{exo} 恋の予感
title: 恋の予感 (koi no yokan)
pairing: Chanyeol/Xiumin, mentions of past! Xiumin/Suho
word count: 1829 words
rating: PG-13
summary: Kim Minseok is looking for the perfect kind of guy. He wasn’t expecting a hazardous human being that is even a danger to himself.
a/n: fill for this prompt. This is completely nonsense because for me, the magic happens at 11 pm and this was all I could write before my time expired, (even I know that is still not an excuse for the crap I write) OTL. I have come to a realization that I am horrible at writing anything that is supposed to be funny because I am a corn who only knows how to write corny stuff, but…???
Minseok crumples the paper he has been writing on in frustration. Luhan has been bugging him for ages (it was actually just a week, but whatever) about getting back in the dating scene since it’s been over a year since he has decided to call it quits with he-who-must-not-be-named anyway. He recalls the argument they had over such a trivial thing and smothers a snicker with his sleeve.
(“His name,” Luhan rolls his eyes in complete exasperation at Minseok’s ridiculousness of deciding to keep the nickname, “is Kim fucking Junmyeon. Or would you like me to spell that out for you?” To which Minseok hisses in reply, grabbing his earphones from Luhan’s hold as the latter took them hostage to make the older one listen to him. Minseok inserts the ear buds in his ear hole and plugs the end of the ear phones into his mp3 player, insisting that he doesn’t need anything but his rockin’ tunes to live, to which Luhan sarcastically replies with, “You don’t need air? Food? Water? Could you survive your whole life with only your “rockin’ tunes”?”Luhan air quotes the words for emphasis, and Minseok snorts in derision.
Luhan doesn’t seem to notice, but if he did, he ignores the action, and proceeds to rattle off how immature and preposterous it is to keep calling Junmyeon with a nickname bound for hell when the reason behind their break-up was simply because the relationship was going as stale as the leftover bread in Minseok’s refrigerator and was probably starting to get molds as they speak.Minseok tries to tune out the annoying buzz of Luhan’s voice, yet he hears everything and doesn’t tell Luhan the fact that he and Junmyeon broke up upon mutual agreement and were on good terms with each other just because he doesn’t want Luhan to relish in the power of having known that fact.
He also doesn’t say that he insists on calling Junmyeon that nickname just for the heck of it and not because of some deep-rooted grudge that would be enough to curse his clan for eons. “I mean, why would you call him that? He’s not Lord Voldemort, or anything remotely like that person. He’s not even a death-eater! He wouldn’t even qualify for one even if he applied, because he’s a fucking oatmeal oppa type of guy that everybody loves and fawns over during lunch breaks and recess periods. And we’re not even in a Harry Potter au, you prick,” Luhan looks at him sourly, not oblivious to the fact that Minseok has successfully shut him off and didn’t need to conjure up Mr. Mime from a pokeball(that would’ve come in handy in dire situations like this, to be honest) to build up a soundproof wall between the two of them, yet still managing to continue his tattling.“He doesn’t have slits for nostrils either, nor a fondness for touching his head too much that he looks like a model for Loreal,” Minseok adjusts the volume in his earphones as he tries to drown out Luhan’s voice in the background, catching “He’s not even bald, he has perfect hair! Which he has recently dyed blonde, by the way,” before the conversation completely comes to a halt in his part.)
He stops laughing, remembering the task at hand and realizing that he might’ve looked like a crazed idiot. He adjusts his shirt and clears his throat, a meek attempt at trying to regain his composure. He sees Luhan laughing by the counter from the corner of his eye, and he immediately regrets going to the coffee shop where his best friend works. He gingerly opens the paper from being rolled into a ball and smoothens the crumpled paper, but not before shooting daggers in Luhan’s direction, hoping that the other one would wither in pain and die on the spot.
“The perfect guy,” he sniggers internally at the cringe-worthy heading. He blames Luhan for watching too many Disney films in his laptop and casually leaving a copy of the movies in his hard disk. “For future reference,” Luhan would always defend. Or maybe he should blame Jongin for being hooked too much on dramas, because he still can’t get that single line from one of the soundtracks for “The Heirs” out of his head, chaebols and moguls reminding him constantly of someone that's supposed to be ideal.
- smart (but not arrogant)
- speaks many languages
- good at sports
- has a pretty smile
- is easygoing and witty
- rich (preferably a chaebol that can act as a personal atm)
- can cook and clean well
- does not hog remote control
- body type akin to that of an abercrombie model (washboard abs basically)
- trusts and respects you
- listens to your needs
- acts as personal slave
He goes back to the list and crosses every single one out, knowing all too well that it wouldn’t do to expect anyone to come along his life that possesses at least one of the qualities he has just listed (because it’s never going to happen), except for a single line that seems to remind him of someone. He remembers Kim Tan’s arrogant ways and Cha Eunsa’s hardships, and he remembers Junmyeon’s black credit card being shoved in his face, a melodic voice telling him to go buy new shoes just because. He crosses that one out too. More than three times, to be exact.
He chews on the eraser on top of the yellow pencil he was holding, not knowing what excuse he’s going to give Luhan for not being able to come at peace with all the ideal types he has listed down, when a painful sensation washes over him, a wave of shock and stinging, searing pain barely registering when a wide-eyed figure in black snapbacks repeatedly bow in front of him, repeatedly apologizing for his clumsiness. Minseok is only half-aware that hot coffee has just been poured on his most expensive pair of pants because he is drowning in the worried looks coming from a stranger with enough number of teeth to get a lifetime’s supply of cash from the tooth fairy. He hears Luhan grumble something from a distance, making a move to intervene with the situation and act as either a mediator or back-up, but decides against it. Luhan throws him a worried look, but stays in place.
“I’m so sorry! I’m really so, so, sorry!” the stranger makes a grab for the pile of table napkinsfrom a tin holder on Minseok’s table and ends up knocking down Minseok’s drink instead, its brown hue spreading a wider range, making Minseok look as if he just shitted in his pants, with the exit point being the other way around.
“Oh. My. God,” The stranger panics even more. Minseok could hear alarms turning off in the person’s head, red and blue lights blaring in his eyes along with the sound of poorly-imitated police sirens. “I’ll help you clean that up,” he grabs several pieces of the table napkin before Minseok could make a move and wipes it on the stain, rubbing furiously as if he could make Minseok’s pants look brand new again with the motion. He could hear Luhan’s cackles of glee from a few feet away. Minseok blushes furiously, his face heating up in both embarrassment and apprehension.
“Uhm, dude,” Minseok tries to call the guy’s attention, but ends in vain. “Dude,” he tries again, yet he still fails miserably. He sighs and grips the man’s wrist. “You’re kinda invading my personal space, y’know?” The man looks at him and at then at his own wrist, and recoils immediately, hands coming up to cover his face in embarrassment as he realizes that what he’d been doing might have looked so wrong to the other people in the coffee shop.
Flurries of apologies and promises of a new drink and a set of fresh, new clothes fill Minseok’s ears as the walking hazard of a human being kept profusely bowing down. “It’s okay, it’s not like you’ve killed me or anything,” Minseok says as nicely as he can, “though with the intensity that you were rubbing that wad of tissue over my crotch area, I must say, you could’ve ripped my dick off in a matter of seconds,” he adds mentally.
The person makes his way to the counter, presumably to order a drink, and comes back a second later, dropping a black jacket over Minseok’s lap. “It’s the least I could do, for now,” the guy takes a seat at the chair opposite his, and he does his best not to get distracted by the guy’s deep set dimples. He also tries too hard not to notice the adorable shine in the guy’s eyes when he says that it’s no problem, and that he wanted to get rid of those ridiculous pants anyways.
“Lies, lies, lies,” he hears Luhan chant over and over again in his head, and he is disturbed by an upsetting imagery of Luhan donning green clothes that looked similar to what hobbits wear from Lord of the Rings, an impish grin on his face as he dances to some unheard tune around a bonfire, its flames whipping madly at the air above it. Minseok is uncannily reminded of Rumplestiltskin, and he reminds himself to never ever everever borrow a book from Luhan because he’ll probably end up with Snow White and the Seven Dwarves next, and he wouldn’t want to offer up his first born for that.
“I’m Chanyeol, by the way. Park Chanyeol,” the guy offers his hand for a shake and gives Minseok a tentative smile. Minseok returns it, weirded out by the fact that the man’s hands were incredibly large and that he was incredibly tall, yet his face makes him look like a misplaced puppy. Chanyeol’s voice, however, screams out sex, sex, and more sex, and Minseok doesn’t question anything related to his observations.
Chanyeol hits his own eye when he pulls his hand back from the handshake, and Minseok bites his bottom lip to control his laughter and contain it in inconspicuous chuckles. Chanyeol smiles sheepishly as he scratches his head in embarrassment.
The barista-Luhan (that fucking son of devil) calls out, and Chanyeol excuses himself for a while as he stands to get his orders. Minseok pulls out the abandoned list tucked safely at the bottom of an emptied-out Styrofoam cup, and adds a name under the list of crossed out qualities for the perfect guy.
Minseok could hear evil cackling in the background and conspiratorial hand rubs as a hunched figure walks away and molds into the darkness. Luhan could be the only one to blame for this. And by the shit-eating grin that was vastly spreading in Luhan’s face by the time Chanyeol was making his way back to Minseok’s table with two steaming cups of coffee in hand, Minseok decides against showing the list to Luhan.
---
恋の予感
Koi No Yokan (Japanese): The sense upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall into love.
pairing: Chanyeol/Xiumin, mentions of past! Xiumin/Suho
word count: 1829 words
rating: PG-13
summary: Kim Minseok is looking for the perfect kind of guy. He wasn’t expecting a hazardous human being that is even a danger to himself.
a/n: fill for this prompt. This is completely nonsense because for me, the magic happens at 11 pm and this was all I could write before my time expired, (even I know that is still not an excuse for the crap I write) OTL. I have come to a realization that I am horrible at writing anything that is supposed to be funny because I am a corn who only knows how to write corny stuff, but…???
Minseok crumples the paper he has been writing on in frustration. Luhan has been bugging him for ages (it was actually just a week, but whatever) about getting back in the dating scene since it’s been over a year since he has decided to call it quits with he-who-must-not-be-named anyway. He recalls the argument they had over such a trivial thing and smothers a snicker with his sleeve.
(“His name,” Luhan rolls his eyes in complete exasperation at Minseok’s ridiculousness of deciding to keep the nickname, “is Kim fucking Junmyeon. Or would you like me to spell that out for you?” To which Minseok hisses in reply, grabbing his earphones from Luhan’s hold as the latter took them hostage to make the older one listen to him. Minseok inserts the ear buds in his ear hole and plugs the end of the ear phones into his mp3 player, insisting that he doesn’t need anything but his rockin’ tunes to live, to which Luhan sarcastically replies with, “You don’t need air? Food? Water? Could you survive your whole life with only your “rockin’ tunes”?”Luhan air quotes the words for emphasis, and Minseok snorts in derision.
Luhan doesn’t seem to notice, but if he did, he ignores the action, and proceeds to rattle off how immature and preposterous it is to keep calling Junmyeon with a nickname bound for hell when the reason behind their break-up was simply because the relationship was going as stale as the leftover bread in Minseok’s refrigerator and was probably starting to get molds as they speak.Minseok tries to tune out the annoying buzz of Luhan’s voice, yet he hears everything and doesn’t tell Luhan the fact that he and Junmyeon broke up upon mutual agreement and were on good terms with each other just because he doesn’t want Luhan to relish in the power of having known that fact.
He also doesn’t say that he insists on calling Junmyeon that nickname just for the heck of it and not because of some deep-rooted grudge that would be enough to curse his clan for eons. “I mean, why would you call him that? He’s not Lord Voldemort, or anything remotely like that person. He’s not even a death-eater! He wouldn’t even qualify for one even if he applied, because he’s a fucking oatmeal oppa type of guy that everybody loves and fawns over during lunch breaks and recess periods. And we’re not even in a Harry Potter au, you prick,” Luhan looks at him sourly, not oblivious to the fact that Minseok has successfully shut him off and didn’t need to conjure up Mr. Mime from a pokeball(that would’ve come in handy in dire situations like this, to be honest) to build up a soundproof wall between the two of them, yet still managing to continue his tattling.“He doesn’t have slits for nostrils either, nor a fondness for touching his head too much that he looks like a model for Loreal,” Minseok adjusts the volume in his earphones as he tries to drown out Luhan’s voice in the background, catching “He’s not even bald, he has perfect hair! Which he has recently dyed blonde, by the way,” before the conversation completely comes to a halt in his part.)
He stops laughing, remembering the task at hand and realizing that he might’ve looked like a crazed idiot. He adjusts his shirt and clears his throat, a meek attempt at trying to regain his composure. He sees Luhan laughing by the counter from the corner of his eye, and he immediately regrets going to the coffee shop where his best friend works. He gingerly opens the paper from being rolled into a ball and smoothens the crumpled paper, but not before shooting daggers in Luhan’s direction, hoping that the other one would wither in pain and die on the spot.
“The perfect guy,” he sniggers internally at the cringe-worthy heading. He blames Luhan for watching too many Disney films in his laptop and casually leaving a copy of the movies in his hard disk. “For future reference,” Luhan would always defend. Or maybe he should blame Jongin for being hooked too much on dramas, because he still can’t get that single line from one of the soundtracks for “The Heirs” out of his head, chaebols and moguls reminding him constantly of someone that's supposed to be ideal.
- smart (but not arrogant)
- speaks many languages
- good at sports
- has a pretty smile
- is easygoing and witty
- rich (preferably a chaebol that can act as a personal atm)
- can cook and clean well
- does not hog remote control
- body type akin to that of an abercrombie model (washboard abs basically)
- trusts and respects you
- listens to your needs
- acts as personal slave
He goes back to the list and crosses every single one out, knowing all too well that it wouldn’t do to expect anyone to come along his life that possesses at least one of the qualities he has just listed (because it’s never going to happen), except for a single line that seems to remind him of someone. He remembers Kim Tan’s arrogant ways and Cha Eunsa’s hardships, and he remembers Junmyeon’s black credit card being shoved in his face, a melodic voice telling him to go buy new shoes just because. He crosses that one out too. More than three times, to be exact.
He chews on the eraser on top of the yellow pencil he was holding, not knowing what excuse he’s going to give Luhan for not being able to come at peace with all the ideal types he has listed down, when a painful sensation washes over him, a wave of shock and stinging, searing pain barely registering when a wide-eyed figure in black snapbacks repeatedly bow in front of him, repeatedly apologizing for his clumsiness. Minseok is only half-aware that hot coffee has just been poured on his most expensive pair of pants because he is drowning in the worried looks coming from a stranger with enough number of teeth to get a lifetime’s supply of cash from the tooth fairy. He hears Luhan grumble something from a distance, making a move to intervene with the situation and act as either a mediator or back-up, but decides against it. Luhan throws him a worried look, but stays in place.
“I’m so sorry! I’m really so, so, sorry!” the stranger makes a grab for the pile of table napkinsfrom a tin holder on Minseok’s table and ends up knocking down Minseok’s drink instead, its brown hue spreading a wider range, making Minseok look as if he just shitted in his pants, with the exit point being the other way around.
“Oh. My. God,” The stranger panics even more. Minseok could hear alarms turning off in the person’s head, red and blue lights blaring in his eyes along with the sound of poorly-imitated police sirens. “I’ll help you clean that up,” he grabs several pieces of the table napkin before Minseok could make a move and wipes it on the stain, rubbing furiously as if he could make Minseok’s pants look brand new again with the motion. He could hear Luhan’s cackles of glee from a few feet away. Minseok blushes furiously, his face heating up in both embarrassment and apprehension.
“Uhm, dude,” Minseok tries to call the guy’s attention, but ends in vain. “Dude,” he tries again, yet he still fails miserably. He sighs and grips the man’s wrist. “You’re kinda invading my personal space, y’know?” The man looks at him and at then at his own wrist, and recoils immediately, hands coming up to cover his face in embarrassment as he realizes that what he’d been doing might have looked so wrong to the other people in the coffee shop.
Flurries of apologies and promises of a new drink and a set of fresh, new clothes fill Minseok’s ears as the walking hazard of a human being kept profusely bowing down. “It’s okay, it’s not like you’ve killed me or anything,” Minseok says as nicely as he can, “though with the intensity that you were rubbing that wad of tissue over my crotch area, I must say, you could’ve ripped my dick off in a matter of seconds,” he adds mentally.
The person makes his way to the counter, presumably to order a drink, and comes back a second later, dropping a black jacket over Minseok’s lap. “It’s the least I could do, for now,” the guy takes a seat at the chair opposite his, and he does his best not to get distracted by the guy’s deep set dimples. He also tries too hard not to notice the adorable shine in the guy’s eyes when he says that it’s no problem, and that he wanted to get rid of those ridiculous pants anyways.
“Lies, lies, lies,” he hears Luhan chant over and over again in his head, and he is disturbed by an upsetting imagery of Luhan donning green clothes that looked similar to what hobbits wear from Lord of the Rings, an impish grin on his face as he dances to some unheard tune around a bonfire, its flames whipping madly at the air above it. Minseok is uncannily reminded of Rumplestiltskin, and he reminds himself to never ever everever borrow a book from Luhan because he’ll probably end up with Snow White and the Seven Dwarves next, and he wouldn’t want to offer up his first born for that.
“I’m Chanyeol, by the way. Park Chanyeol,” the guy offers his hand for a shake and gives Minseok a tentative smile. Minseok returns it, weirded out by the fact that the man’s hands were incredibly large and that he was incredibly tall, yet his face makes him look like a misplaced puppy. Chanyeol’s voice, however, screams out sex, sex, and more sex, and Minseok doesn’t question anything related to his observations.
Chanyeol hits his own eye when he pulls his hand back from the handshake, and Minseok bites his bottom lip to control his laughter and contain it in inconspicuous chuckles. Chanyeol smiles sheepishly as he scratches his head in embarrassment.
The barista-Luhan (that fucking son of devil) calls out, and Chanyeol excuses himself for a while as he stands to get his orders. Minseok pulls out the abandoned list tucked safely at the bottom of an emptied-out Styrofoam cup, and adds a name under the list of crossed out qualities for the perfect guy.
Minseok could hear evil cackling in the background and conspiratorial hand rubs as a hunched figure walks away and molds into the darkness. Luhan could be the only one to blame for this. And by the shit-eating grin that was vastly spreading in Luhan’s face by the time Chanyeol was making his way back to Minseok’s table with two steaming cups of coffee in hand, Minseok decides against showing the list to Luhan.
---
恋の予感
Koi No Yokan (Japanese): The sense upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall into love.