Dejun

Xiao Dejun

[rkxdejun-blog]

Magic Man

[rkxdejun-blog]

rkhaechan‌:

“of course the baby is here,” he says. “the moms can’t really bring him out on a date, can they?” donghyuck rolls his eyes playfully and presses his lips together. he supposes not everyone knows that xuxi’s mom is dating his, also supposing they’d rather keep it that way, just incase. but dejun is someone he knows he can trust so he doesn’t mind spilling secrets in short distance. 

“do you want to see him?” donghyuck asks getting up and silently walking to the room where the bassinet is situated in the corner. a frowns folds on his lips when he notices his baby brother rolled around onto his belly, smiling when he sees his big brother in front of him. “why do you never tell me when you’re awake?” he says gently to the baby before picking him up and turning him to face dejun. as soon as he does the baby’s eyes open wide and stare at the new face before him. “do you want to hold him?”

 Dejun’s eyes light up when Haechan confirms the baby’s presence, as much as he’d expected it, and he nods, eagerly, following behind Haechan with a bounce in his step, as though he would have preferred to skip down the hallway like a schoolgirl. 

 He begins cooing, a high-pitched coo, almost like the wail of a kettle, the moment he sees the baby awake. 

 Dejun watches as Haech picks him up, and he leans in, and down, to meet the baby eye-to-eye, softly speaking a little hello, giggling when the baby offers him a gummy little grin. 

 “Yes, of course...” he says, jealous that Haechan has this cutie readily available to him. He wishes his brother was less of a lameass, otherwise he might have found some poor girl to marry him by now, and Dejun would be an uncle, and have an excuse to buy little baby shoes, and all of that. As he reaches out to accept the little bundle from the other boy, he practically squeals, “He’s so little...”

[rkxdejun-blog]

Home Sweet Home

[rkxdejun-blog]

rkhendery‌:

“just get all muscley and then no one will notice that you’re teeny.” he smirks, squeezing dejun’s bicep with a playfully scrutinising expression. he misses this; playing around with dejun so comfortably, and he realises things really haven’t changed that much since they were together years ago as teens.

 Dejun strains a bit and flexes in Hendery’s hand, laughing softly to himself; he’d been meaning to make arrangements to hit up the gym, lately. He wanted to bulk up a touch, because he knew that he maybe a little too skinny. 

 “You’re so rude...” he growls, his brows furrowing, although he’s clearly not angry, he pretends to be, giving a dramatic huff and pulling his arm away from Hendery’s hand so he could reach up and flick him on the head, “You’re not a bodybuilder yourself...” 

 He grabs Hendery by the wrist, pulling him close to try and get his arm around the other boy’s neck, prepared to wrestle him straight to the ground if need be. 

 “I may be teeny, but I’m still stronger than you.” 

[rkxdejun-blog]

[rkxdejun-blog]

rkxuxi‌:

🡒 you watched it?! 🡒 oh yeah loads of people are doing it! i saw guanheng there too!

21:31 { sms : junie 🐱 }

🡒 i miss your mum!! say hi for meeeee 🡒 interesting good? or bad? it was… out there i guess 🡒 but i think i have the abs for the crop top 😞

21:34 [sms : Cousin (Tall) ] ☆ of course I watched it! ☆ yeah... ☆ he didn’t make it through ☆ kinda worried about him

21:35 [sms : Cousin (Tall) ] ☆ she says you should come see her! ☆ it was good interesting haha ☆ alright...no need to brag Yukhei ☆ ever given humility a try?  😂😂

[rkxdejun-blog]

Magic Man

[rkxdejun-blog]

rkhaechan‌:

donghyuck finds being by his mother’s side strangely comfortable now and it’s so strange because had someone told him a year ago, he’d know the sound of his mother’s voice and the way it comes together to say that she loves him, he’d laugh a dark self deprecating laugh. but he can’t deny, it’s something he’s wanted for years and now, that he’s able to be here with her in a normal setting with a somewhat normal relationship, is truly a blessing – a miracle of sorts, if he believed in such a thing. 

he looks up, seeing a familiar face walk in and then there’s flowers sitting on the table next to him. “for me? you do know how to make a lady feel special,” he says picking them up to take a sniff. donghyuck’s eyebrow raises when dejun keeps talking and brings up the tarot reading he did months ago. “i’m glad you think so. i hoped it would be helpful.” he sets the flowers down, feeling a petal and enjoying the texture of softness it leaves on the pads of his fingers. donghyuck smiles back. “what’re you doing here? come to help me babysit?”

  Dejun hums, a happy grin bending the corners of his lips upward, and he nods, leaning on the back of one of the dining room chairs. 

 “It’s my specialty, actually, yeah,” and he offers the boy a  bit of a chuckle, giving his temple a bit of a scratch. He’s always liked Haechan, thinking that although there’s a definite mischief in the boy’s eyes, that it’s of the cute impish sort. He’s fun.

 He’s about to pull the seat from beneath the table, that he might sit, but he’s interrupted by the mention of babysitting, and his eyes light up. 

 “Is...is the baby here?” he asks, preemptive giddiness thick in his voice.

[rkxdejun-blog]

sms to @rkxuxi

9:20 [sms : Cousin (Tall) ]

☆ Hey! ☆ just saw you on the MGAs... ☆ is everyone doing them, or what?

9:21 [sms : Cousin (Tall) ] ☆ just wanted to say congratulations, dude ☆ my mom, too, I watched it with her 😂😂 ☆ also ☆ interesting choice of clothes?

[rkxdejun-blog]

Crybaby

 Dejun isn’t the sort to put on machismo, to puff his chest out, any of that, but he does like maintaining at least a little dignity, and is thusly loath to admit that he just needs to see his mother right now.

 His parents’ apartment isn’t that far from his, and yet still it’s been too long since he’s made the trek; he’s just in a strange head space as of late.

 It had taken him weeks to figure out that it was loneliness, in part because he was so unused to feeling it. He’d done such a good job avoiding it, but this year he’d lost a lot. He’d lost Lucky Strike, he’d lost a lot of his friends in the indie music scene, he’d regained Guanheng, and then lost him again, too. 

 For a while, he’d let the loneliness sink its teeth into him, deeply. It was a strange combination of feeling that he deserved the feeling, and relishing the sensation of feeling anything at all, his life having faded into a strange sort of gray. 

 But Dejun was soft, too soft; too weak to really withdraw from the world, to punish himself. 

 He’d only ever felt an aching conviction for two things in his life. Everything else was so much more comfortable when he just left it to the current, went with the flow. It was comfortable, he thought, to just let the river take things. Every time he tried to hold something close to his chest, it hurt him. 

 There was a time where he’d thought that music was the only thing that hadn’t, that the callouses on the tips of his fingers were enough to protect him, but lately even it had begun to sting. 

 His parents’ apartment is cool, and the air in it smells clean, like the plants his mother keeps dotted about the apartment. The smell of acrylic paint lingers in the air as well, because she’s got the door to her bedroom open. She takes him in there for a moment to look at the thing she’s painting, an impressionistic take on a photo of her and her family she’d found in a shoebox the previous week. Her and Dejun look at the photo, expressing for a moment how cute his grandmother was and had always been, and laughing at how terrible his uncle Chenglei’s hair had been as a teen. 

 She washes some grapes and slices a pear for them to share as they sit in the living room, putting on one of the records she’d collected in her youth, back when she was still in Hong Kong. He often tried to picture his mother as a young model, an aspiring actress, and although he’d often felt a sense of guilt at how much she’d given up to have himself and his brother, and to raise them, he thinks now, as he watches her sink into her plush chair, the one that is her chair, that she seems happy, surrounded by pretty flowers, a stripe of powder blue paint dried on the side of her forearm that she hadn’t noticed to watch. They sit in silence for a couple minutes, listening to Jeff Buckley croon about lilac wine, and he wonders what it was about this song in particular that she’d always loved so much, or how she’d first heard it.

 His dog comes huffing over to him, fat and old, but always cute, still a baby. It was a little painful, to see him try to bounce and skip, too innocent for the age he’d reached. Dejun has to take him by his body and lift him onto the sofa beside him, his joints too stiff and painful for him to jump anymore, and as he stretches himself onto the sofa, stomach-down, the dog waddles into the small of his back, plopping his creaky body down into it with a characteristically short-snouted snort. 

 He thinks for a moment about how much more grey the fur around the pup’s eyes is now, and watches his mother stand to take the now-clean plate into the kitchen, and by the time she’s back, his eyes are filled with tears. 

 She notices, of course, and instead of sitting in her chair, she leans on the edge of the sofa, clutching the edge of the cushion so she can lower herself to the floor in front of him, turning so that she can mess his hair a bit, and as she does, he notices the stiffness in her joints too, and the tears wobble in his eyes, swelling so the world is blurred into frosted glass. He feels her lips on the frown of his head for a second, and reaches up to wipe his eyes, thinking that he should be embarrassed to be crying like this in front of his mother, at his age, but somehow feeling nothing more than relief. 

 “Why don’t you stay here with me tonight, huh?” she says, the concern that coloured her voice soft, “You can sleep in dad’s room, and we can get something nice for dinner.” 

 He can’t properly answer her, his throat thick with the urge so sob. He can only manage a pitiful nod, his tears tickling the bridge of his nose as they slide over it and onto the couch cushion. 

[rkxdejun-blog]

🌟

[rkxdejun-blog]

Magic Man

 a starter for @rkhaechan

 Dejun has made a habit of visiting his cousin’s mother every other week or so, which he understands is perhaps strange now that she’s not his aunt in the technical sense, but she seems fond of him, and is much closer to him than his actual parents are; in terms of distance. His parents are a much longer tube ride away, and sometimes Dejun wants to be fawned over without the commute. The woman was smart, too, and had a flair to her that made her genuinely entertaining company. 

 He’s confused though, when one day he steps in to find a familiar little brown face sitting at her table; the face belongs to one Haechan, whom Dejun has met before through his cousin. 

 He’s struggling to figure just what Haechan is doing here, though. 

 How many surrogate children did this lady have?

 He exaggerates his surprise a little bit, handing the flowers he’d brought on a whim to the other boy with a smile. 

 “These are for you,” he decides, the declaration starting as a lie, and ending up true by the time he sets the bouquet before Haech on the table, “You know...that reading you gave me...” he says as he peels off his jacket, “I thought it was wrong, and that you were full of it, but recently it’s started coming true, it’s kinda scary.” 

 He drapes his coat over one of the dining chairs and sits down to give Haech a smile. 

 “You’re like a legit witch, or something, it’s cool...”

[rkxdejun-blog]

[rkxdejun-blog]

Home Sweet Home

[rkxdejun-blog]

rkguanheng‌:

“lazy?!” he exclaims in protest, body shifting upward slightly to glare at dejun, before slumping against him once more as he huffs. “i’m not lazy… i just like certain things.” his lips stick in a pout for a moment after speaking. “though if it was down to stature alone, you’d be a bottom too.” 

 It’s strange, the sense of relief he feels that Taeil is not, in fact, Guanheng’s lover, because he knows that Guanheng isn’t his, regardless. He doesn’t want him to be, either, right? It’s been years. Surely long enough for this feeling, the bitterness packed tight beneath his diaphragm, to not be jealousy. 

 He didn’t know what it was.

 “Ah...” he mutters, a little more focused on the feeling of their hands woven together, Guanheng’s index finger painting lines across Dejun’s palm, watering the warmth that blossoms in his chest. He tries to ignore the dull ache that accompanies it. 

 He manages to muster a laugh, though, pushing aside the peculiar, unwelcomed urge that surges forth in his mind at the sight of Guanheng’s little baby face. He barely hears his taunting through the memories of kissing pouts away that dance around the periphery of his mind; so sweet to him that he can barely stop himself from wincing at their passing. 

 “Always gotta go for the height, you absolute chicken dick,” he says with a groan, bumping Guanheng’s shoulder with his own, “You’ve got like...a few centimetres on me, if that, don’t get a big head...”

[rkxdejun-blog]

all clean 🛁

[rkxdejun-blog]

Visitor’s Hours

[rkxdejun-blog]

rkxuxi‌:

food motivated, as always, he tears into the bag, stomach growling, reminding him he’d not yet eaten lunch, and was running off a large mocha. “so, how ya doin’, cuz?” he calls out, turning his head to to the kitchen doorway, waiting for dejun to appear. 

 Dejun follows Xuxi in, closing the door behind him and although he hears Xuxi’s question, and he even visualises the goodies Xuxi’s mother had packed for him in his head, he’s too distracted cooing at his cousin’s puppy to actually respond, letting him instead untie the bag and take a gander for himself. 

 He glides into the kitchen, scooting along the floor in his socks, the puppy cradled gently in his arms as though she were the precious infant, and him the Virgin Mary, and he watches Xuxi unpack his lunch. 

 “Uh...” he thinks for a second, about how strangely emotionally complex his life is at the moment, and he can’t help but laugh, heartily, “Well...I’m a lot of things, I guess. One of them is alright, I think.” 

 He rocks back and forth on his feet, having mistook the Pomeranian in his arms for a very literal baby, ignoring the little tongue that lashes at his jaw as she gets excited and starts trying to climb his chest.

 “Things are weird, I don’t know...” he says, watching Xuxi scarf down the contents of one of the bowls his mom had sent along, “What about you? And Sicheng? How are you?” 

[rkxdejun-blog]

[rkxdejun-blog]

Visitor’s Hours

a starter for @rkxuxi

 Considering that Dejun and Yukhei lived in the same city now, it was strange to him how little they managed to see of one another, and although he’d meant to rectify that multiple times, his life had only just begun to settle, and it was only know that he could manage to eke out a few hours to stop by. 

 He begins by visiting Yukhei’s mother, as he’s forgotten entirely that his cousin has moved out into his own apartment, but that’s all fine, because she makes him lunch, and tea, and he forgets for a half-hour or so that his plans today did not, in fact, include an afternoon luncheon with his cousin’s mother and her friend. When he does eventually get ready to leave, she prepares a to-go box of snacks for him to take to her son’s apartment, and Dejun loves it, because it really takes him back to being seven years old. 

 Luckily, Yukhei is still an absolute mama’s boy, so his apartment is purposely close, a walk of no more than a couple blocks. Dejun’s sure to text him ahead of time, confirming that he’s home, but he ignores the boy’s follow-up question of “Why?” and simply makes his way towards him, thinking that everyone liked surprises. 

 When he arrives, he presses the buzzer, and he tries the door knob, and rather quickly, his cousin answers the door, an expression of vague concern gracing his boyishly handsome little face.

 “Your mom sent me here to fatten you up, I think,” he says, lifting the bag in his hand to show Yukhei, offering a smile along with it, “I thought I should visit you, anyway...see how you were doing.”

[rkhendery-blog]

‹ see you again ›

[rkxdejun-blog]

rkguanheng‌:

finally, he laughs. it’s short, and relaxes him somewhat, but dejun’s annoyance at guanheng’s vagueness reminds him that they aren’t exactly strangers - he can tell dejun almost anything. “i post covers, or original songs on youtube. there’s also my instagram, which is sort of like… modelling in a way? brands sponsor me to wear their clothes in my posts. it’s not the best income, but i have a lot of savings from band stuff. but… what about you? tell me about your band. is that your job?”

 Dejun nods, trying to picture the Guanheng he knew as some aspiring social media star, and trying to withhold a chuckle at the mental image that his mind paints. 

 “Really? You’ll have to show me...are they all like...emo songs?” and he grins sharply, and then shrugs, “I mean I liked to think of it as an anti-job, you know?” he says, with a self-aware chuckle, “I mean...you know, living la vie bohème, or whatever...” 

 He scoots a little closer to Guanheng, positioning his legs towards him, and leaning in, as though he’s about to let him in on a secret. 

 “Of course what that means is my dad has to cover my rent every few months in between paying for my tuition but...it’s getting better.”

[rkxdejun-blog]

Home Sweet Home

[rkxdejun-blog]

rkguanheng‌:

he hates this. he hates feeling so embarrassed both because dejun thinks he’s hooked up with guys, and also because he hasn’t - surely it’s weird to still be clinging to your first love who you broke up with. “taeil basically downloaded it and set it up for me just… for fun. i haven’t even gone on it since he made it!” he’d have thought dejun would know him better than to think he’d sleep with random guys he didn’t know well. 

finally guanheng’s able to breath a sigh of relief, thinking the subject has been dropped when dejun suddenly gives him back his phone. he clutches it tightly in his hands, then drops it onto the futon behind him, shifting closer to lean his head on dejun’s shoulder for a moment. “you know i tell you pretty much everything, though.” his response is soft, and he grabs dejuns hand to play with his fingers thoughtfully, lifting his head just to see dejun acting innocent, which only receives an eyeroll from him. 

“i’m not just a bottom, if i remember correctly.” sure, he prefers that, but he’s feeling argumentative after the teasing dejun subjected him to, so he chooses to be a smartass, instead of simply accepting that dejun’s right. “i’m just small because i hate sports and getting sweaty and stuff so i’m skinny.”

 Dejun raises his eyebrows, a smug grin dancing across his lips. 

 “So...what exactly is Taeil to you, then?” he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a strange little lump of jealousy in his abdomen whenever Guanheng spoke of his friend, but Dejun is more than willing to lie in this instance. It’s confusing to hear this particular little tidbit about their relationship, though, as Dejun had just assumed there was some sort of romantic interest there. 

  He nods, knowing that Guanheng was telling the truth, and he has to choke back a sigh; Guanheng had always seemed so eager to open himself up for Dejun, and something about it had always struck Dejun as sad. It was as though Guanheng didn’t think enough of himself to keep anything tucked away inside. He’d always wondered if he was reading too far into it, if Guanheng wasn’t simply a very open person in a way that was healthy, if maybe it was him who was too closed off.

  Dejun bristles, ever so slightly, at the memory of what Guanheng is alluding to, and he rolls his eyes, offering his friend a smirk, “What does being small and weak have to do with being a bottom, Guanheng? Excuses, I say. Just admit that you’re lazy.”