shocker, considering the deep recesses of the humanities section of the library is his home away from home. more a second bedroom, really, when he needs to pass the time in-between or during classes. sometimes he helps the librarian out for, like, ten minutes. sometimes he sits and wonders how he’s going to survive the next two academic school years at the rate he’s going. and, thus, he studies. or, more like, stare right through his notes: statistics.
a fucking t-test? why the fuck would a student come up to the reference desk for a fucking t-test? fucking standard deviations. it’s all the scientists’ doing, all to keep everyone distracted from the possibility of aliens being real. they are, though. real.
maybe he really should have just taken creative writing and literature.
jesus christ.
speaking of.
well, not literally.
jeonghan bumps their shoulders together before his chin settles on the other’s shoulder. “i’m fucking bored. what the fuck.” a hand lands on the other’s thigh, fingers casually drumming against it. “but i gotta get references at the back.” he barely made it past the first page of his handouts. “help me.”
suji doesn’t hold grudges, isn’t quick to anger (usually), and is a firm believer in forgiving and forgetting. but whoever is responsible for these wack-ass height genes in her family -- the ones given to her, specifically -- deserves a long and slow eternity in the deepest pits of hell.
it’d be just her luck that the one book, the best book, for her term paper would be on the top shelf, and of course she would have chosen today of all days to wear the flattest shoes she owns. she looks down at her feet and curses the dirty white canvas because they are doing nothing to help her out. screw the extra cushioning and the two-for-one sale she bought them at -- they’re useless.
suji heaves a sigh: a quiet one, and way too restrained to be satisfying. suddenly her bag feels so much heavier on her back, and she can feel the beginnings of a headache as she glares at the spine of the book she needs, all the way up there on the top shelf. it’s taunting her and she knows it; it’s looking down at her with a smug grin, knowing it’s the one thing she needs to score that perfect mark, and the one thing she has no hope of reaching. ever.
there’s movement beside her, and when suji takes a moment to stop lamenting over her pending failed paper, she flinches, eyes wide as she takes a step back because,
“what the hell?”
suji doesn’t believe in god, but if she did, she’d be sending a quiet prayer in thanks up to the almighty for bringing her this giant of a dude to save her and her paper. quiet steps take her to where giant dude is standing, and she’s twirling her pen between her fingers in anticipation.
“hey,” suji whispers. “excuse me. h--”
and then it dawns on her, and realisation smacks her right in the face: giant dude can’t see her. screw her ancestors. screw them right back to hell. suji shuts her eyes and sighs again before poking giant dude’s side with the end of her pen.
At first he thought he was just hearing things, because you know, it could’ve just been a similar sound and not what he actually thought it was. Then he thought “Oh, someone might’ve brought there pet in.” and wondered if he could pet it when he saw it, but when he did, it was in the most unlikely location.
As he takes a final step out of the building, he heard the sound again, louder than ever and he looks up, blinking in surprise at the sight of a cat attempting and failing in getting down from the tree across from where he stood. Worry seeps into his person and forgetting to look left and right, ran across the street (jeonghan’s voice rings in his head that that was a bad idea).
“Here, kitty.” He calls out after stopping in front of the tree, arms outstretched up and beckoning the cat over to him, “It’s okay, you can come down.” and when the cat didn’t budge did he frown. Looking around the area, he peeks behind the tree and spots what he assumes is another student,
“excuse me, could I bother you for a moment? I need a little bit of help.”
Smoke curls around his fingers and the pungent scent of ash fills the air. There’s a sort of irony that he can’t help but to laugh at. This program was meant to help him and yet he finds himself lighting another cigarette. A smokers help program was the last thing he thought he would be a part of and yet here he was with a cigarette resting between his fingers. He throws it on the ground and puts it out with the sole of his shoe. He had caved under the eyes of his younger sister. He wasn’t going to go originally—but under her insistence he had signed up for it.
(“You have to! I learned that smoking is bad and I don’t want you to die Yoonie.”)
Smoking is bad and he’s really only doing this for his sister.
He enters the building—quickly finding the room, smiling politely at the occupants in the room, sits and waits. The program begins the moment the last person sits with the circle. A tray is passed around and everyone disposes of their cigarette packets and lighters into it. Introductions start immediately after, everyone going in a circle stating their name, age, and an activity they like. Siyoon finds himself dozing off after the fifth introduction, losing his focus entirely. He startles awake at the sound of a familiar voice attached to a familiar name.
His brows furrow together and he looks up. Eye contact is made with a familiar face and he almost falls out of his seat. It’s one of his students, one of his favorites, one of the only ones that actually submits a well-rounded paper that he could appreciate. He curses under his breath. What are the chances of this happening? None.
(“Nothing will happen!” His sister had told him when he had visited home and yet the very thing he had dreaded just occurred.)
Now, why Jeon Wonwoo, out of all places would be here is another thought.
Before he realizes it, it’s his turn. The group shifts their attention to him and no matter how much he loves being the center of attention. This is the one time he despises it. “Hello, I’m Yoon Siyoon, twenty-seven, and I like philosophical debates.” He glances around the circle, eyes landing on Wonwoo and he flashes a desperate smile. “Nice to meet you all.”
He’s so fucked and there wasn’t anything he could do.
✕ i want the k—21; then there’s tongue. ( not accepting ).
she can’t remember when a simple conversation with someone who’d simply stumbled on a girl pouring added sorrows into her body through a glass cylinder had morphed into a heated clashed of lip and tongue, but nayeon’s mind was deep in a haze, and right now she could give two shits about how things ended up the way they did.
she feels her skin sting, the sensation of her fingers locked around his chin, keeping him in place hurts— it feels wrong, no, it is wrong. she shouldn’t do this, not to him, not to anyone.
her own bleeding heart had no business taking its frustrations out on the first living thing to show any amount of concern.
she needed to stop, to pull away from a mouth that tasted of bitter ash and a reality she didn’t want to accept ( but how could she when her mind kept altering the image, changing it so instead of the poor soul in her embrace, it was a much taller man— the one she’d loved for so long, who saw as nothing more than his little princess while other girls were actually worth his time. her eyes didn’t lie, she knew what she saw, and it hurt like hell ).
yet, eventually she has to break for air, and when she does her mouth throbs and she’s sure his does too. she’s still sniffling, her eyes slightly damp from previous tears, and she can’t look him in the eyes right away.
“..i’m sorry,” she finally says, slowly loosening her grip on him, and she can see his skin glow with faint red imprints ( she hadn’t realized just how hard she was gripping ). “i didn’t- i wouldn't have done that..”
she finds words hard to find, and she finally glances up at him with red ringed eyes, she gives a heavy sigh. “it’s been a long night…”
Perhaps it’s because of the inviting warmth Wonwoo emitted, or because of the arm wrapped around his waist, hand under his shirt, fingers tickling his sides with just the slightest touch, or perhaps it was the way every kiss they’ve shared always felt like the first, that always left butterflies in his stomach.
Perhaps it’s Wonwoo entirely.
Hands curled around the front of Wonwoo’s shirt, and the younger male had earlier found purchase on his lap, straddling him. The older’s other hand rests at his nape, keeping him from pulling away from their kiss (and him entirely). The kisses they’ve shared, both short and drawn out, were always soft and gentle, and this kiss was no different.
Is what Jihoon thought.
It was easy to get lost in the kiss, or maybe it was just Jihoon. Jihoon, with his lack of experience, Jihoon with his lack of knowledge. It started off the way it mostly does, short pecks that leaves the other asking for more, then to prolonged kisses, lips easily molding against each other’s. It always leaves Jihoon breathless (both figuratively and literally) and needy for more, despite the taste of cigarette mixed in with the sugary sweetness of the tootsie roll Wonwoo frequently eats. And despite cigarettes being bad for his health (or for anyone’s—cigarette smoking is dangerous to your health), he sets it aside because Wonwoo is trying to stop.
He pulls away first, just enough for him to take a few deep breaths before he’s being pulled once again for another. He doesn’t protest, arms snaking around the older male’s neck and Wonwoo’s hands rests on Jihoon’s hips, squeezing slightly, and the younger releases a moan in the kiss. It urges a different reaction, and he feels their position shifting and his back making contact with his bed. Despite the momentary distraction the now wandering hands made, the feeling of the wet appendage prodding against his lips abruptly cut it short.
A gasp gets caught in his throat, but the slight parting of his lips was enough for Wonwoo’s tongue to slip in between.
The feeling was entirely different from before, the kiss more heated, felt more needy, and Jihoon finds himself quickly drowning in the kiss. He’s clumsy in return, unsure of how to respond to the kiss, yet tried his best either way. Eyes half-lidded, face flushed and lips most likely swollen, it was an expression he rarely ever had, and Wonwoo’s the first to see.
When hands made its way downwards, he could only whimper in the kiss.
get your free kiss here —- romantic kiss ( 7 ) // not accepting !
youngjae laid on his bed, reading the briefing that he was given for debate team. upon getting the packet, he pulled wonwoo with him to his apartment ( not really giving wonwoo a choice ) because he wanted to look over the topic with him before the actual debate ( which was a week away ) because there was no one he trusted more than wonwoo when it came to talking about his opinions ( and a lot of other things that youngjae might never admit aloud ).
‘ hey, wonwoo? ’ he pushed himself up so he was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at his friend who was standing in the middle of his room ( youngjae never exactly said ‘ feel free to make yourself at home ! ’ when they got to his apartment ). ‘ okay, first, come sit here with me, ’ before wonwoo said anything, youngjae got up from his place on his bed and pulled wonwoo onto the bed with him.
youngjae was pleased that now they were both lying down comfortably, ‘ okay, so, you read the briefing right? because… i don’t know if i’ll be able to debate about this, you know? i’m just… not getting that many ideas on how to refute the other team. ’ while, yes, confidence was a familiar concept to youngjae, he could feel it wavering when he read what their debate was going to be about ( it was about nuclear energy, a topic he wasn’t very familiar with ) because even if he did a good amount of research on it, he knew he still wouldn’t understand or know what to say.
instead of telling hyeri, their president, he’d preferred to tell wonwoo, someone who he knew would be honest and supportive ( not that hyeri wasn’t supportive, her support was just a little more aggressive ). ‘ so i hope you don’t mind but… can you help me? ’ there were many times when youngjae would ask wonwoo for help, working on some things for hours. which was exactly what they did for their debate this time ( well, it was more for youngjae than the debate, but he’ll never admit that ).
when finally they felt like they were finished with their work ( aka youngjae was more confident to go up to debate ), youngjae curled up next to wonwoo. there was barely any light in the room compare to when they started, except for his desk light ( which barely provided anything for them because they weren’t remotely close to it ). maybe that was why youngjae felt the urge to kiss wonwoo, in an act of gratitude and because of the lack of light ( he was too tired and felt like it was ‘mood lighting’ ). ‘ thank you for helping me tonight, ’ he turned wonwoo’s head to face him gently before leaning in, placing a soft kiss on wonwoo’s lips.
