♕ countdown: jongin/luhan
countdown
jongin & luhan
pg | 468 w.
countdown
; deep inside of you, there’s a ruby glow,
& it gets brighter then you & i will ever know
jongin loves that glint of excitement in luhan’s eyes when he knows he's found the perfect shirt, the perfect accessory, the perfect shoes to match, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to be enamored by someone while they rummage through their closet in sheer frustration.
hey, jongin would take luhan’s wrist then, thumb running through the pulse for a hint of a racing heartbeat. you’d still look lovely, regardless of what you wear, he would say, and luhan would huff and pout, but jongin won’t miss the way luhan’s lips would curve into a smile against his own.
jongin likes how luhan stifles a yawn in the crack of dawn, sleep and exhaustion seeping through his bones as rehearsals come to a finish. how his hyung would crawl into bed, legs halfway under the covers just as jongin curls himself against his body to hold luhan closer. luhan would mumble in his sleep, phrases of sehun, you arse, you ate the last slice of pizza, or yifan-ge’s fashion sense has become quite alarming, but jongin won’t miss it when he drones, you mean the world to me, jongin.
sometimes he thinks he can live off luhan’s voice, too, the sweet timbre of song dancing in his ears, or the crinkle in his eyes when he shares his humor, his laughter a stark contrast on gloomy days. or perhaps it is when luhan could barely crack an eye from laughing just a little too much that jongin would find himself falling in love all over again, would keep his own eyes wide open in attentiveness and awe, capturing still what photographs could not as light radiates from luhan.
(jongin desires for luhan’s lips to collide with his own-a fight for dominance, a clash of teeth-wanting how his mouth would fall easily open to prodding bites and his own name moaned against his tongue. jongin, luhan would plead, pressed against the wall, and jongin would respond with a tug of clothes, a thrust of his hips, with bruised kisses and promises painted in the dark, and there would be nothing but luhan.)
jongin finds beauty in luhan’s words, his knack for bilingual eloquence, that despite the stress, the resentment, and the tears that threaten to spill as he bites back retorts of i hate you’s in jongin’s direction, face twisted into unabashed anger, jongin keeps himself at bay. he keeps his arms wide open warm and welcoming ‘til luhan sobs through his muffled apologies, pleading for jongin to stay-but i never left.
jongin thinks luhan is weird. eccentric. wild. beautiful. disastrous. but he doesn't care. luhan could be something, or anything-he could everything, and jongin would still love him with all his bones, with all his flaws-his imperfectly perfect luhan.
i am a poor excuse of a human being-lukai made its way to my top exotp's, skdjfhkasj, BUT I REGRET NOTHING. written in haste and out of frustration, because tumblr gives me all kinds of feels. also, do come talk to me, it gets lonely sometimes.
jongin & luhan
pg | 468 w.
countdown
; deep inside of you, there’s a ruby glow,
& it gets brighter then you & i will ever know
jongin loves that glint of excitement in luhan’s eyes when he knows he's found the perfect shirt, the perfect accessory, the perfect shoes to match, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to be enamored by someone while they rummage through their closet in sheer frustration.
hey, jongin would take luhan’s wrist then, thumb running through the pulse for a hint of a racing heartbeat. you’d still look lovely, regardless of what you wear, he would say, and luhan would huff and pout, but jongin won’t miss the way luhan’s lips would curve into a smile against his own.
jongin likes how luhan stifles a yawn in the crack of dawn, sleep and exhaustion seeping through his bones as rehearsals come to a finish. how his hyung would crawl into bed, legs halfway under the covers just as jongin curls himself against his body to hold luhan closer. luhan would mumble in his sleep, phrases of sehun, you arse, you ate the last slice of pizza, or yifan-ge’s fashion sense has become quite alarming, but jongin won’t miss it when he drones, you mean the world to me, jongin.
sometimes he thinks he can live off luhan’s voice, too, the sweet timbre of song dancing in his ears, or the crinkle in his eyes when he shares his humor, his laughter a stark contrast on gloomy days. or perhaps it is when luhan could barely crack an eye from laughing just a little too much that jongin would find himself falling in love all over again, would keep his own eyes wide open in attentiveness and awe, capturing still what photographs could not as light radiates from luhan.
(jongin desires for luhan’s lips to collide with his own-a fight for dominance, a clash of teeth-wanting how his mouth would fall easily open to prodding bites and his own name moaned against his tongue. jongin, luhan would plead, pressed against the wall, and jongin would respond with a tug of clothes, a thrust of his hips, with bruised kisses and promises painted in the dark, and there would be nothing but luhan.)
jongin finds beauty in luhan’s words, his knack for bilingual eloquence, that despite the stress, the resentment, and the tears that threaten to spill as he bites back retorts of i hate you’s in jongin’s direction, face twisted into unabashed anger, jongin keeps himself at bay. he keeps his arms wide open warm and welcoming ‘til luhan sobs through his muffled apologies, pleading for jongin to stay-but i never left.
jongin thinks luhan is weird. eccentric. wild. beautiful. disastrous. but he doesn't care. luhan could be something, or anything-he could everything, and jongin would still love him with all his bones, with all his flaws-his imperfectly perfect luhan.
i am a poor excuse of a human being-lukai made its way to my top exotp's, skdjfhkasj, BUT I REGRET NOTHING. written in haste and out of frustration, because tumblr gives me all kinds of feels. also, do come talk to me, it gets lonely sometimes.