eclipsed; time will kill us, after all; guarded, fraigile
eclipsed (our lights meet)
jongdae/zitao
pg; 383
Zitao's eyes are hidden behind eyelashes and long bangs, and Jongdae wants to brush them aside, drinking in the startling image that awaits. He wants to watch the area around Zitao's eyes crease in concentration as he tries to understand the Korean being spoken to the twelve of them, but his head is bowed and his eyes are concealed from Jongdae. He wants to know if Zitao's eyes will shy away from him after that first kiss this morning, their mouth reeking of morning breath and limbs half awake while they wait outside the occupied bathroom. If Zitao's eyes will greet him in the same cheerful attitude as always or will his cheeks flush a pretty pink and the eyes Jongdae searches for dart away in panic.
Their manager dismisses them, only asking Yifan and Joonmyun to remain behind to talk about schedules, and they shuffle out of the meeting room, making their way to the exit and the waiting vans. Zitao walks with Baekhyun and Chanyeol, moving to sit in K's van, an arm hanging casually off Baekhyun's shoulder.
"Zitao," Jongdae calls to him, "sit next to me." Zitao cast a sideways glance at Baekhyun, talking in his usual energetic tone, avoiding Jongdae. Jogging up next to him, Jongdae's fingers circle around Zitao's wrist, grabbing his attention and pulling him to M's van.
"Please," he begs.
The moment Zitao turns and he catches a glimpse of mysterious dark eyes, Jongdae remembers opening his mouth slightly under Zitao, letting them kiss with the unhurried, gentle ease of morning. He remembers a hand resting on his hip, thumbing at the edge of his shirt, and another tangled in his uncombed bedhair. He remembers his hand resting on Zitao's chest vibrating with a moan of approval when Jongdae flicks his tongue in, catching his natural taste under the sharp, sour tang from sleeping with his mouth open. He remembers the way Zitao jumped guiltily way when the bathroom door opened and Minseok walked out, suspiciously eyeing the gap between them. He remembers the eyes that avoided him during the quick rush of breakfast and the ride to the company for practice. The eyes that he wants nothing more than to see bright with laughter aimed towards him once again.
"Zitao, please," he almost whimpers, "Talk to me."
time will kill us, after all
joonmyun/sehun
g; 212
The park bench under him is freezing and the bike leaning against it is covered with a dusting of snow from the tree branches above. His fingers grip around the handle bar, his knuckles turning white with the pressure. "Joonmyun, where are you? You're late," he says, a gust of wind swallowing the sound and carrying it away. "I'm cold."
He waits for an hour. His lips dry out and chap, and his nose becomes cold and runny.
"Where are you? You promised."
Another hour passes. A hand comes to rest on his shoulder. "You're here." He spins around, jumping to hug Joonmyun.
The man he sees is not Joonmyun.
"Sehun, he's not coming. Let's get you home before you catch a cold." He shakes his head at Kyungsoo's warm, motherly words.
"He promised. I'm staying until he comes back and we go on our date."
He sits back down. Kyungsoo sits beside him, offering him gloves to protect his fingers. He refuses to take them.
The park bench is still freezing and gets colder the longer he waits, but he's not moving until he gets his promised bike date. He'll wait until dark, go home, and then come back the next day.
It was a promise and Joonmyun keeps his promises.
guarded, fraigile
yifan/yixing
pg; 151
Yifan kisses the hollow where Yixing's shoulder meets his neck, his tongue darting out to lick at ridges and crevasses. The smallest of moans escaping from bitten lips become music to Yifan's ear, a rhythm and guiding beat for him to follow. Tonight it will lead Yifan away from who he pretends to be in the daylight and to, in the stars and city's light, he is for the few seconds he is free. Tomorrow, when dawn greets them, Yixing will blink wonderingly at Yifan, questioning 'who are you?', before hopping out of bed, searching for clothes scattered around the hotel room. During the light of the sun, Yixing holds no memories of Yifan, forgetting him when the man is out of his sight, but at night, when the wicked sun leaves them, Yixing searches for him, sometimes finding him, sometimes choosing loneliness to the temporary heartbreak he remembers etched in Yifan's face.
jongdae/zitao
pg; 383
Zitao's eyes are hidden behind eyelashes and long bangs, and Jongdae wants to brush them aside, drinking in the startling image that awaits. He wants to watch the area around Zitao's eyes crease in concentration as he tries to understand the Korean being spoken to the twelve of them, but his head is bowed and his eyes are concealed from Jongdae. He wants to know if Zitao's eyes will shy away from him after that first kiss this morning, their mouth reeking of morning breath and limbs half awake while they wait outside the occupied bathroom. If Zitao's eyes will greet him in the same cheerful attitude as always or will his cheeks flush a pretty pink and the eyes Jongdae searches for dart away in panic.
Their manager dismisses them, only asking Yifan and Joonmyun to remain behind to talk about schedules, and they shuffle out of the meeting room, making their way to the exit and the waiting vans. Zitao walks with Baekhyun and Chanyeol, moving to sit in K's van, an arm hanging casually off Baekhyun's shoulder.
"Zitao," Jongdae calls to him, "sit next to me." Zitao cast a sideways glance at Baekhyun, talking in his usual energetic tone, avoiding Jongdae. Jogging up next to him, Jongdae's fingers circle around Zitao's wrist, grabbing his attention and pulling him to M's van.
"Please," he begs.
The moment Zitao turns and he catches a glimpse of mysterious dark eyes, Jongdae remembers opening his mouth slightly under Zitao, letting them kiss with the unhurried, gentle ease of morning. He remembers a hand resting on his hip, thumbing at the edge of his shirt, and another tangled in his uncombed bedhair. He remembers his hand resting on Zitao's chest vibrating with a moan of approval when Jongdae flicks his tongue in, catching his natural taste under the sharp, sour tang from sleeping with his mouth open. He remembers the way Zitao jumped guiltily way when the bathroom door opened and Minseok walked out, suspiciously eyeing the gap between them. He remembers the eyes that avoided him during the quick rush of breakfast and the ride to the company for practice. The eyes that he wants nothing more than to see bright with laughter aimed towards him once again.
"Zitao, please," he almost whimpers, "Talk to me."
time will kill us, after all
joonmyun/sehun
g; 212
The park bench under him is freezing and the bike leaning against it is covered with a dusting of snow from the tree branches above. His fingers grip around the handle bar, his knuckles turning white with the pressure. "Joonmyun, where are you? You're late," he says, a gust of wind swallowing the sound and carrying it away. "I'm cold."
He waits for an hour. His lips dry out and chap, and his nose becomes cold and runny.
"Where are you? You promised."
Another hour passes. A hand comes to rest on his shoulder. "You're here." He spins around, jumping to hug Joonmyun.
The man he sees is not Joonmyun.
"Sehun, he's not coming. Let's get you home before you catch a cold." He shakes his head at Kyungsoo's warm, motherly words.
"He promised. I'm staying until he comes back and we go on our date."
He sits back down. Kyungsoo sits beside him, offering him gloves to protect his fingers. He refuses to take them.
The park bench is still freezing and gets colder the longer he waits, but he's not moving until he gets his promised bike date. He'll wait until dark, go home, and then come back the next day.
It was a promise and Joonmyun keeps his promises.
guarded, fraigile
yifan/yixing
pg; 151
Yifan kisses the hollow where Yixing's shoulder meets his neck, his tongue darting out to lick at ridges and crevasses. The smallest of moans escaping from bitten lips become music to Yifan's ear, a rhythm and guiding beat for him to follow. Tonight it will lead Yifan away from who he pretends to be in the daylight and to, in the stars and city's light, he is for the few seconds he is free. Tomorrow, when dawn greets them, Yixing will blink wonderingly at Yifan, questioning 'who are you?', before hopping out of bed, searching for clothes scattered around the hotel room. During the light of the sun, Yixing holds no memories of Yifan, forgetting him when the man is out of his sight, but at night, when the wicked sun leaves them, Yixing searches for him, sometimes finding him, sometimes choosing loneliness to the temporary heartbreak he remembers etched in Yifan's face.