#fcxwinterfest

[xfcxchanyeol]

date with the dead

[hotjiyongnim]

sibal

on most occasions, jiyong has the appropriate sense to put out the lit cigarette held tautly between his lips in the accompaniment of people who probably didn't smoke; today there's a prominent unsympathetic look that splays over his features and embeds itself in his gaze when he glances over to the woman on his side, coughing in an exaggerated fashion and throwing not so furtive looks in his direction.

an audible, graceless curse escapes his lips and jiyong spits the stick out in front of him, foot gingerly digging it further into the ground; incensed enough to showcase conspicuous displeasure. there's still a bit of a walk left before he reaches the ever-growing crowd of the festival just ahead, so he re-positions the hood of his jacket over his head and shoves his hands inside his pockets, ears already numb from the wind chill.

it's no surprise however, that kwon jiyong enjoys walks within bustling areas (the busier streets of hongdae had always been the ideal place for such outings in the past), it's just the aspect of socializing he'd really rather not partake in -- reasons why he wanders aimlessly by himself within the crowd, halting sporadically whenever something catches his eye; food stands for the most part.

there's a wafting smell that grounds him temporarily then, and his hands reflexively pat against the back of jeans in search for his wallet, to no avail however -- "fuck, where is it?" he mutters in exasperation, thrusting his hands into pockets he's never used before and finding nothing even after turning them inside out; not a single bill. a loud laugh then, dry and flustered, he ignores the passing looks he receives and stares in wistful longing at a student who steps up to make their purchase.

[notminx]

kyungsoo's kissing booth!

$1 for on-the-cheek, $2 for lips, $5 to meet his tongue piercing!

at that very moment in time, kyungsoo hates kat more than anyone else on this entire planet. he slides even farther down into his chair, wishing that he could somehow just melt away into the plastic. a boy smiles at him as he’s walking by, gaze heavy and searingly intense as it flickers over his face—then dips lower, as if trying to make out what lies hidden beneath the folds of kyungsoo’s oversized sweater.

the petite mutant slides down so far that only his wide, owlish eyes are visible, peeking out over the at the growing crowd. oh yes indeed, he definitely hates kat more than anyone else right now. it’s all that stupid boy’s fault for convincing him to help him out by running this kissing booth—but, well, how could he have refused? not when his friend had played with his empathy by showing him all those pictures of half-dead creatures with their haunted, miserable eyes. he knew how they felt, more than anyone should. and once upon a time, he’d had those eyes himself.

of course, kat had come to him only for selfish reasons; kyungsoo was apparently ‘perfect’ for the job. the apples of his cheeks flush rosy pink just at the memory of kat’s words—something muttered about “nice lips and narrow shoulders”.

and so here he is, at the winter festival, stuck behind a booth with a gigantic glittery sign above his head that reads: “kiss kyungsoo to save an abused animal! $1 for a kiss on the cheek, $2 for lips, and $5 for the chance to meet his tongue piercing!”.

kyungsoo sighs loudly, breath forming little clouds in the chilly night air. he’s rubbing his face with the heels of his hands, willing that stupid blush to go away, when approaching movement registers in his peripherals—which makes him scramble to sit properly in his chair, knees slamming against the underside of his booth in the process.

clenching his fingers into fists to prevent them from trembling, kyungsoo does his absolute best to look cute and kissable, plush lips pursed into what he can only hope is an alluring pout—since he has to at least try, right? for the puppies and kitties, he reminds himself, smiling warmly with newfound resolve.

"welcome to kyungsoo’s kissing booth! how may i, um, be of service?"