inbox #17
inbox #17
1. k-actor/shinee, lee minho/taemin, someone points out to the two of them that kai is their love child, pg-r
2. solo artist (or suju-m)/f(x), henry/amber, everyone sees her as a butch lesbian. henry sees her as a person, g-pg-133. f(x), sulli/amber, amber tells off sulli's bully, g-pg-13 ( Read more... )
1. k-actor/shinee, lee minho/taemin, someone points out to the two of them that kai is their love child, pg-r
2. solo artist (or suju-m)/f(x), henry/amber, everyone sees her as a butch lesbian. henry sees her as a person, g-pg-133. f(x), sulli/amber, amber tells off sulli's bully, g-pg-13 ( Read more... )
Kris' life is one of routine. He sleeps at twelve and wakes up at seven. It's hard to deviate much with a schedule as packed as his, especially when he's stuck in a position where his entire fortune might vanish overnight as a result of a careless oversight. When he exits his room, all dressed up and ready for work again, he sees Luhan asleep on the living room couch, the way he always does when he's chasing after a deadline, hair messed up and laptop hastily placed on the floor.
Kris doesn't wake him up until he's done with breakfast-scrambled eggs, canned baked beans, microwaved sausages, even he can't mess those up. He brews tea for himself but takes out a coffee he has stored amongst a dozen others in the fridge for Luhan, makes it a point to eat first, to finish his meal and do all the dishes before he proceeds to press the can of cold coffee against the elder's cheek, a plate of food held firmly in the other hand. Luhan wakes with a start.
“Shit,” he mutters as soon as he's coherent enough to speak, “What time is it?”
“Half past seven.”
Luhan lets out a string of colorful curses as he sits up, picks up his laptop and starts typing furiously, fingers moving from one key to another in rapid succession, barely sparing Kris a glance. He doesn't mind as much as he used to, way too accustomed to Luhan's habits by now to really give a damn about how single-track minded the latter can be at times. Kris takes a seat beside him and begins to slip food into Luhan's mouth.
“Deadline is in...?”
“Five hours,” Luhan tells him, then adds, morose, “I don't think I can ask Minseok to extend it for me anymore.”
“It's not a good idea to be too dependent on personal relations in the first place, when you're at work,” Kris replies.
Luhan lets out an indignant snort. “Shut up, you rich twat.”
Kris leaves the coffee on the table beside the couch, unopened. He's kind of late already, so he leaves the dishes in the sink for him to clean up later (or for Luhan to wash himself, if he's feeling thankful and charitable). Before he leaves the apartment, he takes a chance.
“Hey,” he says, voice firm and confident. He's always more comfortable in asking for favours when Luhan is busy and less likely to pay attention. “Why don't you pick out my clothes for me?”
Luhan doesn't stop working, but his brows are burrowed into a frown. Not exactly the best reaction but he supposes there are a million other ways in which it could have been worse.
“... For the date?” Luhan asks.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“We'll see.”
It's not exactly a promise, but it's probably the best he can hope for out of Luhan when it comes to things like this.
-
There's nothing manly about helping a guy out to choose an acceptable outfit for a date and Luhan has been pretty averse to all things stereotypically feminine for as long as Kris remembers, so when Sunday arrives without any mention of Kris' request, he assumes that silence is a show of Luhan's refusal.
Kris runs through his closet and finds nothing. Thinking that a shower might help in clearing his mind and sparking new fashion ideas, he heads towards the bathroom and lets himself be drenched under the gushing droplets of water, phone left on the bathroom counter to play hip hop songs on repeat on maximum volume.
When he comes out fifteen minutes later-wiped down, dried out and butt naked-he sees Luhan laying out clothes on his bed. He'd be grateful, except now he's a little overwhelmed with feeling a bit too exposed, so rather than words of gratitude the only thing that comes out of his mouth is fuck as he storms back into the bathroom and grabs the towel hanging by the door.
Luhan doesn't even flinch. He seems more amused over the fact that Kris is trying so hard.
“Nice,” he says, though whether it's a comment on his body or his agility Kris isn't quite sure. “And hey, I have what you have. No need to get all embarrassed about nothing.”
“Some people have this thing called modesty,” Kris hisses, arms still busy trying to wrap the towel securely around his waist.
Luhan raises a questioning brow.
“You never seemed to care about that whenever you flaunt your-”
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