post #30
TL;DR RULES
1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else
2. use the subject line to indicate pairing (in alphabetical order using stage names i.e.baekhyun/chanyeol) prompt details go in the comment.
3. use necessary content warnings
4. do not embed on meme. link to images/videos. label nsfw content.
5. do not repost prompts ( Read more... )
1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else
2. use the subject line to indicate pairing (in alphabetical order using stage names i.e.baekhyun/chanyeol) prompt details go in the comment.
3. use necessary content warnings
4. do not embed on meme. link to images/videos. label nsfw content.
5. do not repost prompts ( Read more... )
The year was 1988 and the wettest monsoonal season had finally passed with the noise of the democracy movement and the grief of the explosion of the Korean Air 858. With the official onset of summer heat and the presence of fair-skinned, light-haired, wide-eyed foreigners who looked like Sophie Marceau, the Olympics was all anyone could talk about.
Across the Pacific Ocean, the "land of the free" (as Baekhyun had so cockily put), appeared to do nothing but celebrate youthfulness and liveliness every night "with good music, good drinks, and good company."
But none of it mattered to Kyungsoo as he folded Baekhyun's most recent letter into an aeroplane, scribbled "Korean Air" into the sides, and pushed it out the window of his Royal Suite. And with the same downcast lifeless eyes as always, he turned away from the window and made his way to the persistent knocks at the door.
"Good morning."
Kyungsoo's brows creased. He didn't even try to mask his displeasure at the sight of Junmyun, impeccably put together as always, his hair parted 8:2 as usual and the lines of his suit crisp as if he had never worn it before.
"The President would like you to vacate the room by the end of the school day," he smiled apologetically. "We have important guests coming in this week, as you know…"
"Where should I sleep then?" Kyungsoo asked, grabbing his schoolbag from the bed. "I've already downgraded from the Presidential Suite, as you know."
"I- Why don't you go back home, sir?"
Kyungsoo stared at Junmyun. He stared until the pale skin over the manger's Adam's apple bobbed and his eyelids fluttered in quick succession.
"...I'm sure I can arrange a normal room for you, if you'd like that."
There was no actual motive behind making the man sweat; there were no mishaps that justified his hatred for those clean-cut features and even cleaner actions. But Kyungsoo enjoyed it and the way he saw it, he deserved a little ray of sunshine amidst the dull repetition of his every day schedule from home (Suite since a fortnight ago) to school to home to events to home to school…. and so on and so forth.
And if that justification was good enough for him, then it was fucking good enough for everyone else as well, whether it be his parents, the bullied himself, the chauffeur waiting in the lobby, or the home room teacher who'd take any excuse given to him.
Kyungsoo finally walked past Junmyun and out of the Suite. As he waited for the lift to arrive at his floor, he could hear Junmyun making his new living arrangements. A corner of his lips pulled up in smug satisfaction.
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