b.a.p drabbles
reciprocation
b.a.p; himchan/youngjae; g
a/n: me trying too hard in 2nd person pov ;;
A confession comes in the form of a half-hearted joke, a whisper of "I love you" barely overtaking the jingle from a commercial running on the television.
It's midnight and all the other members are asleep, but somehow you end up sitting beside him on the couch, the promise of good company and leftover chips enough to make you stay up even when you're dead tired from practice. You're already halfway through an episode of a romance-comedy rerun, both of you laughing and clinging to each other in a way that you never do-- never had-- and it's at that precise moment when you meet his eyes that you find yourself saying it-- "I love you" in between a whisper and a laugh.
Your eyes are still crinkled from laughing too hard, but once your brain catches up with your words, you feel yourself tense up just a bit. There's a thick lump that somehow lodges itself in your throat, but you swallow it down and you try for a smile instead, fully intent on convincing both him and yourself that it was just a joke, that it wasn't necessarily true--
He shifts a little in his seat, just so that now he's fully facing you. His face is a mixture of both surprise and unease, and just from that you feel your heart both plummet to your feet and jump up your throat at the same time. The effect is unbearable; you feel dizzy and flustered and sick all at once, and the way he's just staring at you makes it all the more unnerving.
Then, just as you're ready to excuse yourself in hopes of fleeing the dorm for the remainder of the night, he places his hand right beside yours on the worn-out cushion, not exactly touching, but just close enough for your fingers to brush against each other.
"I," he starts, right at the same moment the show comes back on. His eyes flicker to the screen for a second, then he gives an awkward cough that makes the corner of your mouth quirk up just the smallest bit in spite of it all. "I," he tries again before pausing, as if waiting for another distraction, then--
"Me too," his voice is clear despite the standard laugh track that comes on right after the main character onscreen falls flat on his face, the sound filling the room almost anticlimactically.
This time, your heart swells and you can't help but smile, your cheeks just barely taking on an odd shade of pink, because even when the moment is terribly imperfect, with his hand lying almost limply beside yours and an overly-clichéd laugh track booming in your ears, you take solace in the fact that it doesn't really sound like a joke at all, and that in the end, it's sort of true, actually.
skinny love
b.a.p; himchan/youngjae; pg
a/n: just a scenario i've always wanted to type out ;; turned out a lot lamer sobs
"Hyung," Youngjae says as he plops beside Himchan, who's busy playing with Daehyun's iPad to give a proper reply and settles for a distracted Hm? instead. Youngjae frowns and refuses to continue, but gives up when he realizes Himchan really doesn't care either way, not when he's so close to beating Jongup's high score in Temple Run. "I want to ask you something."
Himchan blinks and nods at the iPad, silently offering Youngjae to go on.
The boy sighs in return, but continues anyway. "I, well-- I think you're aware of, uh. How do I put this." Youngjae purses his lips in a tight line, frowning as he momentarily gets lost in his thoughts. He's still choosing the right words to say in his head when Himchan elbows him, eyes still not leaving the game.
"If you're just going to space out on me, then move your ass."
Youngjae snorts and pretends to take offense, but honestly, he's used to Himchan being a rude loser, so he lets it slide like all the other times.
"I was just getting there when you interrupted me," he says, rolling his eyes (but making sure to hide it from Himchan; he's still living up to that goddamn respectful dongsaeng image that the staff from that one television show had shoved on him). "I just wanted to ask how, um, how I can lose some... er," Youngjae chews on his bottom lip and finishes in a barely audible voice, "weight."
Even when Himchan makes no hurry of pausing the game upon hearing the boy's concern, Youngjae notices that he doesn't look as uninterested as he had been earlier.
"So you finally decided to ask the real health professional." Himchan says, face smug. Youngjae restrains himself from accidentally aiming his fist at the vicinity of his nose. "Honestly, it took you long enough to realize Jonguppie's methods aren't really your style."
"Right." is all Youngjae dares himself to say, mind too busy conjuring up images of him strangling Himchan as he simultaneously regrets even considering the idiot as a viable source of advice.
"Okay, whatever, I'll get right to the point since I have a game to finish--" Himchan waves a hand around airily. Youngjae eyes it pointedly. "If you want to lose weight and actually be successful like me, then do what I did: don't eat."
It takes five seconds for Himchan's words to sink in, and another five for Youngjae's face to shift from mild anticipation to major disappointment.
"What's that face for." Himchan says, even having the audacity to actually look offended. "It's legitimate advice! Tried and tested by me--"
"Why do I even bother." Youngjae mumbles, completely disconcerted as he stands to walk away, and really, if it had been any other day and Himchan didn't have a high score to beat, along with the off chance that he could actually bring himself to care, then he would probably run after Youngjae and bother him about it until he finally agrees on starving himself for a week or two. Really.
b.a.p; himchan/youngjae; g
a/n: me trying too hard in 2nd person pov ;;
A confession comes in the form of a half-hearted joke, a whisper of "I love you" barely overtaking the jingle from a commercial running on the television.
It's midnight and all the other members are asleep, but somehow you end up sitting beside him on the couch, the promise of good company and leftover chips enough to make you stay up even when you're dead tired from practice. You're already halfway through an episode of a romance-comedy rerun, both of you laughing and clinging to each other in a way that you never do-- never had-- and it's at that precise moment when you meet his eyes that you find yourself saying it-- "I love you" in between a whisper and a laugh.
Your eyes are still crinkled from laughing too hard, but once your brain catches up with your words, you feel yourself tense up just a bit. There's a thick lump that somehow lodges itself in your throat, but you swallow it down and you try for a smile instead, fully intent on convincing both him and yourself that it was just a joke, that it wasn't necessarily true--
He shifts a little in his seat, just so that now he's fully facing you. His face is a mixture of both surprise and unease, and just from that you feel your heart both plummet to your feet and jump up your throat at the same time. The effect is unbearable; you feel dizzy and flustered and sick all at once, and the way he's just staring at you makes it all the more unnerving.
Then, just as you're ready to excuse yourself in hopes of fleeing the dorm for the remainder of the night, he places his hand right beside yours on the worn-out cushion, not exactly touching, but just close enough for your fingers to brush against each other.
"I," he starts, right at the same moment the show comes back on. His eyes flicker to the screen for a second, then he gives an awkward cough that makes the corner of your mouth quirk up just the smallest bit in spite of it all. "I," he tries again before pausing, as if waiting for another distraction, then--
"Me too," his voice is clear despite the standard laugh track that comes on right after the main character onscreen falls flat on his face, the sound filling the room almost anticlimactically.
This time, your heart swells and you can't help but smile, your cheeks just barely taking on an odd shade of pink, because even when the moment is terribly imperfect, with his hand lying almost limply beside yours and an overly-clichéd laugh track booming in your ears, you take solace in the fact that it doesn't really sound like a joke at all, and that in the end, it's sort of true, actually.
skinny love
b.a.p; himchan/youngjae; pg
a/n: just a scenario i've always wanted to type out ;; turned out a lot lamer sobs
"Hyung," Youngjae says as he plops beside Himchan, who's busy playing with Daehyun's iPad to give a proper reply and settles for a distracted Hm? instead. Youngjae frowns and refuses to continue, but gives up when he realizes Himchan really doesn't care either way, not when he's so close to beating Jongup's high score in Temple Run. "I want to ask you something."
Himchan blinks and nods at the iPad, silently offering Youngjae to go on.
The boy sighs in return, but continues anyway. "I, well-- I think you're aware of, uh. How do I put this." Youngjae purses his lips in a tight line, frowning as he momentarily gets lost in his thoughts. He's still choosing the right words to say in his head when Himchan elbows him, eyes still not leaving the game.
"If you're just going to space out on me, then move your ass."
Youngjae snorts and pretends to take offense, but honestly, he's used to Himchan being a rude loser, so he lets it slide like all the other times.
"I was just getting there when you interrupted me," he says, rolling his eyes (but making sure to hide it from Himchan; he's still living up to that goddamn respectful dongsaeng image that the staff from that one television show had shoved on him). "I just wanted to ask how, um, how I can lose some... er," Youngjae chews on his bottom lip and finishes in a barely audible voice, "weight."
Even when Himchan makes no hurry of pausing the game upon hearing the boy's concern, Youngjae notices that he doesn't look as uninterested as he had been earlier.
"So you finally decided to ask the real health professional." Himchan says, face smug. Youngjae restrains himself from accidentally aiming his fist at the vicinity of his nose. "Honestly, it took you long enough to realize Jonguppie's methods aren't really your style."
"Right." is all Youngjae dares himself to say, mind too busy conjuring up images of him strangling Himchan as he simultaneously regrets even considering the idiot as a viable source of advice.
"Okay, whatever, I'll get right to the point since I have a game to finish--" Himchan waves a hand around airily. Youngjae eyes it pointedly. "If you want to lose weight and actually be successful like me, then do what I did: don't eat."
It takes five seconds for Himchan's words to sink in, and another five for Youngjae's face to shift from mild anticipation to major disappointment.
"What's that face for." Himchan says, even having the audacity to actually look offended. "It's legitimate advice! Tried and tested by me--"
"Why do I even bother." Youngjae mumbles, completely disconcerted as he stands to walk away, and really, if it had been any other day and Himchan didn't have a high score to beat, along with the off chance that he could actually bring himself to care, then he would probably run after Youngjae and bother him about it until he finally agrees on starving himself for a week or two. Really.