@mcknae
THE COOL SURFACE OF THE DORM flooring is soothing as he rests face downward, a low groan reverberating throughout the room. the swivel chair he had been spinning around and around in is kicked away by the legs that stretch out— a sign of his plan to remain exactly where he is, for however long it takes this nausea to pass. “you didn’t beg,” the statement that is meant to hold sarcasm is only feebly spoken, lashes fluttering before he squeezes his eyes tightly shut. even now, his surroundings continue to spin and spin, despite remaining absolutely still.
yet, as the seconds pass, so do the consequences of his childish behavior. within a few moments, he’s opening his eyes again, flickering them towards the sound of the older male’s voice. he can’t see him from here, but if his memory serves correct, he’s still on the couch and watching that weird, japanese variety show that he hears playing upon the nearby television. even with his nausea passing, his head still feels rather fuzzy. “i think you’re confusing laughing with begging, hyung. besides, you don’t have to rub it in.” clearly, his humor in his pain is warranted.
` ㅂ ´ ┊ But would he really be Kim Kibum if he didn’t rub it in? If he didn’t gobble up the chance to bask in another’s stupidity? That was one of his specialties after all. One of his many life goals and perhaps the most annoying part of him being anywhere close to remotely ‘right’ (not a hard feat when Lee Taemin’s every move was impending doom, at this point Kibum was just capitalizing on years of experience). He was a bucket of ‘I told you sos’ and gurgled laughter. And honestly, he’d been expecting this to go south (not literally at first, but seeing as the younger was now sprawled out on the floor like a wounded octopus, he wouldn’t have been wrong to suggest so).
“Yah, yah yah--” Hands are flippant, swiping away the complaints, ”You brought this on yourself!” A smile is cracked from the blonde tucked into one of the many cushions that adorn the couch. One that’s breached with a cackle- not at the onscreen imagery of a man with a mouthful of shoe (and not chocolate like the contestants sought out) and regret, but at the poor attempt at “sarcasm” tossed his way. “This is what happens when you disobey your hyung. Don’t expect any sympathy this time-” And then Kibum’s eating his words, swallowing them whole because, contrary to prior huffs and puffs, he does care about his precious maknae’s self inflicted ailment. So cue a foot- one clad in an intricately designed sock- toeing at the shroom-headed maknae’s shoulder before he’s crouching, a mug half-full of tea hooked around nimble fingers. “Don’t be pitiful. I know our dorm hardly gets any love these days but don’t you think this relationship is unhealthy?”
