Imperfectly Perfect Chp. 3
---
The first thing he sees when he wakes up the next morning are his two hands curled up beside his face and long eyelashes tickling his nose. He’s not sure whose eyelashes they belong to, but he’s got a pretty good idea, and when he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on those lips, he knows for sure.
He watches as Hangeng blinks his eyes open slowly, groaning a bit when a bright ray of sunshine hits his face, and suddenly yawns loudly.
Heechul smiles again but turns around to face the wall and smothers his stupid little grin into his own pillow.
“I don’t have work today,” he mutters softly into the feathery pillow, assuming that Hangeng is partially awake now.
There’s a stretched out pause and Heechul lies there silently, face still pressed into his pillow until he hearts Hangeng yawn loudly again.
“So what are the plans for today then?” Hangeng asks softly, voice still tinged with interrupted sleep.
“Mrrmmm,” Heechul mutters sleepily, “I’m going to the park to write inspired by the birds and the breeze,” he says wistfully.
Hangeng chuckles and rolls over, wrapping an around Heechul’s waist from behind and pulling him close. There’s a tight string of silence when Hangeng shuts his eyes sleepily and breathes a hot exhale against Heechul’s neck, causing the red-head to elicit a small moan, shuddering.
Hangeng rubs his nose against the back of Heechul’s neck, red strands of hair brushing softly against his cheeks.
“Your scent always makes me drowsy, you know,” Hangeng breathes against his bare shoulder, inhaling softly.
Heechul hums quietly against the pillows, “Stop seducing me,” he smiles. He feels a bit dizzy from the swirling sweet scent of warmth.
Hangeng laughs out loud now, “I was doing no such thing, Princess,” pressing his lips gently against the back of Heechul’s neck again.
Heechul shivers again and arches his back against the other, “You know that’s my sensitive spot, Geng…”
Another gentle pressing of lips against his collarbone is all he gets in response
Heechul draws in a sharp breath, hot blood burning through his veins. “Don’t you have to… go to work?”
“Yeah…soon…” Hangeng breathes, capturing one of the ruby red locks between his lips and squeezing Heechul’s waist before sitting up abruptly and resolving to bounce out of bed.
Heechul hides under the covers and peeks his head out to watch Hangeng slip out of his cotton pajama pants and into those corporate looking clothes that Heechul really despises. He’s always loved Hangeng being soft and comfortable and easy to press him against vinyl couches. He didn’t like the thought of Hangeng being cold and corporate-looking.
He thinks it has partly something to do with the fact that he enjoys taking bubble baths and shopping in vintage book shops and eating at quaint cafes; it’s just part of his nature to love things that are soft-edged and comfortable.
“Hey…make me breakfast,” Heechul whines as he crawls out of bed with the blanket wrapped around his entire body.
Hangeng scoffs at him as he tightens his tie around his neck, “What, am I your slave now?”
Heechul giggles and approaches Hangeng, “I thought we made that clear in the beginning already,” he says, reaching to straighten out Hangeng’s crooked collar.
“Oh, I forgot, I’m sorry, princess,” Hangeng laughs, eyes twinkling and Heechul can’t help but smirk at him.
When Heechul steps away to make sure everything is prim and perfect, to make sure that the collar is perfectly straightened, he ends up being so upset by the flawlessness of it all that he musses up Hangeng’s hair and turns his tie so that it’s crooked.
“I’ve always found you much more attractive with the ‘we-just-fucked look’,” Heechul tells a bewildered Hangeng.
---
The initial coldness of the couch had worn off after Heechul has been sitting on it for half an hour - one of the books he sneaked out of the bookstore yesterday held tightly in his hand as he practically presses his nose into it. It is only when he sees Hangeng’s figure shift and rise up from the wooden at the dining table that Heechul pulls his gaze away from the words blurring on the page.
“Are you leaving now?”
Hangeng nods and picks up his coffee mug to down the remnants.
“Thanks for breakfast,” Heechul pipes up, giving Hangeng a thumbs up sign. “You hadn’t made eggs with ramen for a while so today was a nice treat.”
Hangeng just rolls his eyes in response and pulls on his new black coat that Heechul had picked out at the store last weekend. He’s wearing it so much it’s already beginning to smell like him - all soft and bitter at the same time.
“Have a good day~” Heechul says cheerily, mouth half full of ramen noodles.
“Don’t forget to return those library books today. I know you’re gonna get too caught up on your reading marathons again aren’t you?” Hangeng asks, smiling.
Heechul doesn’t reply, just has a knowing look in his eyes that Hangeng can place all too well.
Before twisting the door open, Hangeng leans in and presses a brief kiss against Heechul’s lips.
“Drive safe~~” Heechul calls out just before Hangeng shuts the door behind him.
And that’s when Heechul realize he’d been so caught up with what happened last night and their fooling around this morning that he had not had time to even tell Hangeng what happened at the bookstore yesterday.
I’ll remember to tell him tonight, he resolves.
And then there is only a deep silence, the only sound is Heechul shuffling around on the couch to get in a more comfortable position, and the soft turning of pages.
---
He had named the store Forgotten Words because it gave him a wistful and nostalgic feeling of being lost in another world, another time, another universe entirely where he would only be emerged in magical things and wouldn’t have to deal with the mundane ignorance of humans. Whenever he stepped into that world, a strong rapturous feeling of peace and contentment befell him.
Cryptic, ancient things that were forgotten had always had a strange appeal to him; when Sungmin had visited the place, he laughed and called Heechul an old grandpa.
“At least let me furnish the place for you so it looks somewhat stylish,” Sungmin had nagged, hinting that some shades of pink were going to be involved. Heechul simply ignored him and went off the next day in search of vintage furnishings thrift shops. He ended up lugging back various pieces of furniture -- most of which were antiques and mismatched, but he adored them all anyways.
Of course, at the time, the interior of the bookstore was still under construction so basically, all the couches and love seats and coffee tables were dragged back into their apartment, cluttering up the entryway and the entire hallway to the point where Hangeng had complained because they literally had to climb over chairs and tables to get around in the apartment.
“Really, Heechul? We couldn’t have just rented a storage space for a couple of weeks? Are we really gonna just leave all this here?” Hangeng said one day exasperatedly, staring forlornly across the ocean of furniture that covered their entire living room area.
“Mrrmmm~” Heechul replied, rolling from one couch to another one with a thick leather bound book in his hand. “It’s soooo fun to have more than one couch in the living room though!” he trilled elatedly, grasping Hangeng’s arm and dragging him onto the couch with him.
“Oof,” Hangeng landed softly on top of Heechul, eyes unreadable and arms pressed down beside Heechul so that his body would not crush him; the little leather bound book shoved between them surreptitiously.
“See~ Isn’t it fun?” Heechul grinned, “Stop being such a spoilsport,” he said, eyes training back to the letters on the page he had stopped on, but there was so little space between them that he found it quite a difficult feat to achieve.
Hangeng grabbed the book at one point because it had almost stabbed him in the eye and he placed it on the third conveniently placed coffee table that was right next beside them.
Heechul opened his mouth in protest, but Hangeng stopped him just in time with a slow, open mouthed kiss that was lazy but made Heechul lose all trails of this train of thought. But it didn’t really matter, because he didn’t really need thoughts then.
And then they had done other things all night on the couches and tables that had nothing much at all to do with reading. So from that day on, Hangeng never once complained about the furnishings again and that was that.
---
Dinner that night -- Fried rice, green string beans, and kimchi -- Heechul finally remembers that he’s supposed to tell Hangeng what happened the day before in the bookstore.
“Geng,” he says between mouthfuls.
The Chinese man looks up at him with a raised eyebrow, “Yeah?”
“Something happened yesterday that I forgot to tell you about.”
Hangeng looks more interested now and lifts his head away from the rice bowl in front of him.
“What is it?” he asks, voice a bit timid.
“There was this woman -- dressed really strangely that came into the bookshop yesterday,” Heechul begins, eyes still trained on the grain of rice stuck in the middle of the chopsticks.
There is a strange moment with tension that grows so tangible between them Heechul can almost feel it and all of a sudden, he doesn’t really feel like eating anymore.
Hangeng gives Heechul an intense look in his eyes that instructs him to keep going.
“So...she was asking for someone, but then I guess she took one look at me and decided I wouldn’t have known the person so she simply leaves and walks out,” Heechul continued, then scoffed when he added, “And she told me to call her ‘M’am’ or something. Pft, stupid high class bitches these days.” He blows a loose strand of hair away from his face angrily.
Hangeng doesn’t say anything in return, but when Heechul looks up, he can see Hangeng’s fist clutching tightly around both of his chopsticks.
Heechul’s heart clenches with panic for a moment and he doesn’t know what’s going on, but all he can think of to do is reach across the table and curl a finger around Hangeng’s tense hand.
“Geng? What’s wrong?” Heechul asks worriedly, eyebrows furrowing up in a knot.
There’s no answer, just a slight shaking of his head, eyes diverted down at the table.
Another long silence. Finally, Hangeng opens his mouth and what comes out his so barely audible that Heechul has to lean in to catch it, “What nationality was she?” he asks in a shaky whisper.
“Hankyung?”
“Answer me first. What nationality was she?”
Heechul pauses, “I’m not sure. She had a strange foreign accent though so I don’t think she was Korean...” he trails off when he sees Hangeng’s knuckles turning white from fisting the chopsticks even tighter.
“What’s going on, Geng? Do you know her?” asks Heechul, anxiety building up in his chest.
They are interrupted when a sudden strong gust of bitterly cold wind blows in through the window. With a shiver, Heechul gets up from the dining table and makes his way over to the window to shut it; he feels a rush of relief when he pulls the heavy golden drapery over it. The elegant swirls on the thick material are a rich gold and Heechul’s always thought it always brought a sort of warmth to their place.
When he makes his way back to his seat, he finds Hangeng’s head bent down and he’s biting his lip, a frown on his face.
“Honestly, tell me what’s wrong now or I’m gonna get mad,” Heechul demands, hands on his hips now.
Hangeng continues biting his lip and shaking his head, “Nothing....it’s nothng. I’m sorry I got you all riled up. Just...sit down for a moment, Heechul.”
Grudgingly, Heechul sits back down on the wooden chair, his shoulders are tense now and he really doesn’t feel like eating dinner anymore.
“Do you think you know her?”
Then, suddenly, Hangeng is glancing up at him with worried and tired eyes, and he speaks in a low voice, “I just thought it might have been someone I knew, that’s all. But then I realized that we’re in Korea now and there’s no way I could run into her here...”
Quietly, Heechul replies, eyes not looking at Hangeng’s because the exhaustion he sees behind them makes him feel a bit sick, “Well, whoever it is,” he begins, voice strained now, “I’ll protect you from that person.”
It’s now Hangeng’s turn to look up and smile slowly, the brightness never fully reaching his eyes, but it’s enough progress from that state earlier. Heechul’s heart is skipping in leaps and bounds when he sees that smile and really, it’s enough.
It’s better though, when Hangeng lets out a little laugh. Probably laughing at the thought of Heechul being about to protect someone in a manly way.
Heechul wants to say something snarky and witty to get that expression of Hangeng’s face that he knows for a fact is mocking him.
But he bites his tongue, and shuts his mouth, and curls his fingers around Hangeng’s wrist and looks into his eyes and something strange flickers behind them but Heechul doesn’t have time to analyze it because he’s somehow kissing Hangeng and the Chinese man is deftly whispering,
“I love you” against his lips and it takes all of Heechul’s mental capacity not to crawl on to the table and knock off their dinners.
---
The first thing he sees when he wakes up the next morning are his two hands curled up beside his face and long eyelashes tickling his nose. He’s not sure whose eyelashes they belong to, but he’s got a pretty good idea, and when he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on those lips, he knows for sure.
He watches as Hangeng blinks his eyes open slowly, groaning a bit when a bright ray of sunshine hits his face, and suddenly yawns loudly.
Heechul smiles again but turns around to face the wall and smothers his stupid little grin into his own pillow.
“I don’t have work today,” he mutters softly into the feathery pillow, assuming that Hangeng is partially awake now.
There’s a stretched out pause and Heechul lies there silently, face still pressed into his pillow until he hearts Hangeng yawn loudly again.
“So what are the plans for today then?” Hangeng asks softly, voice still tinged with interrupted sleep.
“Mrrmmm,” Heechul mutters sleepily, “I’m going to the park to write inspired by the birds and the breeze,” he says wistfully.
Hangeng chuckles and rolls over, wrapping an around Heechul’s waist from behind and pulling him close. There’s a tight string of silence when Hangeng shuts his eyes sleepily and breathes a hot exhale against Heechul’s neck, causing the red-head to elicit a small moan, shuddering.
Hangeng rubs his nose against the back of Heechul’s neck, red strands of hair brushing softly against his cheeks.
“Your scent always makes me drowsy, you know,” Hangeng breathes against his bare shoulder, inhaling softly.
Heechul hums quietly against the pillows, “Stop seducing me,” he smiles. He feels a bit dizzy from the swirling sweet scent of warmth.
Hangeng laughs out loud now, “I was doing no such thing, Princess,” pressing his lips gently against the back of Heechul’s neck again.
Heechul shivers again and arches his back against the other, “You know that’s my sensitive spot, Geng…”
Another gentle pressing of lips against his collarbone is all he gets in response
Heechul draws in a sharp breath, hot blood burning through his veins. “Don’t you have to… go to work?”
“Yeah…soon…” Hangeng breathes, capturing one of the ruby red locks between his lips and squeezing Heechul’s waist before sitting up abruptly and resolving to bounce out of bed.
Heechul hides under the covers and peeks his head out to watch Hangeng slip out of his cotton pajama pants and into those corporate looking clothes that Heechul really despises. He’s always loved Hangeng being soft and comfortable and easy to press him against vinyl couches. He didn’t like the thought of Hangeng being cold and corporate-looking.
He thinks it has partly something to do with the fact that he enjoys taking bubble baths and shopping in vintage book shops and eating at quaint cafes; it’s just part of his nature to love things that are soft-edged and comfortable.
“Hey…make me breakfast,” Heechul whines as he crawls out of bed with the blanket wrapped around his entire body.
Hangeng scoffs at him as he tightens his tie around his neck, “What, am I your slave now?”
Heechul giggles and approaches Hangeng, “I thought we made that clear in the beginning already,” he says, reaching to straighten out Hangeng’s crooked collar.
“Oh, I forgot, I’m sorry, princess,” Hangeng laughs, eyes twinkling and Heechul can’t help but smirk at him.
When Heechul steps away to make sure everything is prim and perfect, to make sure that the collar is perfectly straightened, he ends up being so upset by the flawlessness of it all that he musses up Hangeng’s hair and turns his tie so that it’s crooked.
“I’ve always found you much more attractive with the ‘we-just-fucked look’,” Heechul tells a bewildered Hangeng.
---
The initial coldness of the couch had worn off after Heechul has been sitting on it for half an hour - one of the books he sneaked out of the bookstore yesterday held tightly in his hand as he practically presses his nose into it. It is only when he sees Hangeng’s figure shift and rise up from the wooden at the dining table that Heechul pulls his gaze away from the words blurring on the page.
“Are you leaving now?”
Hangeng nods and picks up his coffee mug to down the remnants.
“Thanks for breakfast,” Heechul pipes up, giving Hangeng a thumbs up sign. “You hadn’t made eggs with ramen for a while so today was a nice treat.”
Hangeng just rolls his eyes in response and pulls on his new black coat that Heechul had picked out at the store last weekend. He’s wearing it so much it’s already beginning to smell like him - all soft and bitter at the same time.
“Have a good day~” Heechul says cheerily, mouth half full of ramen noodles.
“Don’t forget to return those library books today. I know you’re gonna get too caught up on your reading marathons again aren’t you?” Hangeng asks, smiling.
Heechul doesn’t reply, just has a knowing look in his eyes that Hangeng can place all too well.
Before twisting the door open, Hangeng leans in and presses a brief kiss against Heechul’s lips.
“Drive safe~~” Heechul calls out just before Hangeng shuts the door behind him.
And that’s when Heechul realize he’d been so caught up with what happened last night and their fooling around this morning that he had not had time to even tell Hangeng what happened at the bookstore yesterday.
I’ll remember to tell him tonight, he resolves.
And then there is only a deep silence, the only sound is Heechul shuffling around on the couch to get in a more comfortable position, and the soft turning of pages.
---
He had named the store Forgotten Words because it gave him a wistful and nostalgic feeling of being lost in another world, another time, another universe entirely where he would only be emerged in magical things and wouldn’t have to deal with the mundane ignorance of humans. Whenever he stepped into that world, a strong rapturous feeling of peace and contentment befell him.
Cryptic, ancient things that were forgotten had always had a strange appeal to him; when Sungmin had visited the place, he laughed and called Heechul an old grandpa.
“At least let me furnish the place for you so it looks somewhat stylish,” Sungmin had nagged, hinting that some shades of pink were going to be involved. Heechul simply ignored him and went off the next day in search of vintage furnishings thrift shops. He ended up lugging back various pieces of furniture -- most of which were antiques and mismatched, but he adored them all anyways.
Of course, at the time, the interior of the bookstore was still under construction so basically, all the couches and love seats and coffee tables were dragged back into their apartment, cluttering up the entryway and the entire hallway to the point where Hangeng had complained because they literally had to climb over chairs and tables to get around in the apartment.
“Really, Heechul? We couldn’t have just rented a storage space for a couple of weeks? Are we really gonna just leave all this here?” Hangeng said one day exasperatedly, staring forlornly across the ocean of furniture that covered their entire living room area.
“Mrrmmm~” Heechul replied, rolling from one couch to another one with a thick leather bound book in his hand. “It’s soooo fun to have more than one couch in the living room though!” he trilled elatedly, grasping Hangeng’s arm and dragging him onto the couch with him.
“Oof,” Hangeng landed softly on top of Heechul, eyes unreadable and arms pressed down beside Heechul so that his body would not crush him; the little leather bound book shoved between them surreptitiously.
“See~ Isn’t it fun?” Heechul grinned, “Stop being such a spoilsport,” he said, eyes training back to the letters on the page he had stopped on, but there was so little space between them that he found it quite a difficult feat to achieve.
Hangeng grabbed the book at one point because it had almost stabbed him in the eye and he placed it on the third conveniently placed coffee table that was right next beside them.
Heechul opened his mouth in protest, but Hangeng stopped him just in time with a slow, open mouthed kiss that was lazy but made Heechul lose all trails of this train of thought. But it didn’t really matter, because he didn’t really need thoughts then.
And then they had done other things all night on the couches and tables that had nothing much at all to do with reading. So from that day on, Hangeng never once complained about the furnishings again and that was that.
---
Dinner that night -- Fried rice, green string beans, and kimchi -- Heechul finally remembers that he’s supposed to tell Hangeng what happened the day before in the bookstore.
“Geng,” he says between mouthfuls.
The Chinese man looks up at him with a raised eyebrow, “Yeah?”
“Something happened yesterday that I forgot to tell you about.”
Hangeng looks more interested now and lifts his head away from the rice bowl in front of him.
“What is it?” he asks, voice a bit timid.
“There was this woman -- dressed really strangely that came into the bookshop yesterday,” Heechul begins, eyes still trained on the grain of rice stuck in the middle of the chopsticks.
There is a strange moment with tension that grows so tangible between them Heechul can almost feel it and all of a sudden, he doesn’t really feel like eating anymore.
Hangeng gives Heechul an intense look in his eyes that instructs him to keep going.
“So...she was asking for someone, but then I guess she took one look at me and decided I wouldn’t have known the person so she simply leaves and walks out,” Heechul continued, then scoffed when he added, “And she told me to call her ‘M’am’ or something. Pft, stupid high class bitches these days.” He blows a loose strand of hair away from his face angrily.
Hangeng doesn’t say anything in return, but when Heechul looks up, he can see Hangeng’s fist clutching tightly around both of his chopsticks.
Heechul’s heart clenches with panic for a moment and he doesn’t know what’s going on, but all he can think of to do is reach across the table and curl a finger around Hangeng’s tense hand.
“Geng? What’s wrong?” Heechul asks worriedly, eyebrows furrowing up in a knot.
There’s no answer, just a slight shaking of his head, eyes diverted down at the table.
Another long silence. Finally, Hangeng opens his mouth and what comes out his so barely audible that Heechul has to lean in to catch it, “What nationality was she?” he asks in a shaky whisper.
“Hankyung?”
“Answer me first. What nationality was she?”
Heechul pauses, “I’m not sure. She had a strange foreign accent though so I don’t think she was Korean...” he trails off when he sees Hangeng’s knuckles turning white from fisting the chopsticks even tighter.
“What’s going on, Geng? Do you know her?” asks Heechul, anxiety building up in his chest.
They are interrupted when a sudden strong gust of bitterly cold wind blows in through the window. With a shiver, Heechul gets up from the dining table and makes his way over to the window to shut it; he feels a rush of relief when he pulls the heavy golden drapery over it. The elegant swirls on the thick material are a rich gold and Heechul’s always thought it always brought a sort of warmth to their place.
When he makes his way back to his seat, he finds Hangeng’s head bent down and he’s biting his lip, a frown on his face.
“Honestly, tell me what’s wrong now or I’m gonna get mad,” Heechul demands, hands on his hips now.
Hangeng continues biting his lip and shaking his head, “Nothing....it’s nothng. I’m sorry I got you all riled up. Just...sit down for a moment, Heechul.”
Grudgingly, Heechul sits back down on the wooden chair, his shoulders are tense now and he really doesn’t feel like eating dinner anymore.
“Do you think you know her?”
Then, suddenly, Hangeng is glancing up at him with worried and tired eyes, and he speaks in a low voice, “I just thought it might have been someone I knew, that’s all. But then I realized that we’re in Korea now and there’s no way I could run into her here...”
Quietly, Heechul replies, eyes not looking at Hangeng’s because the exhaustion he sees behind them makes him feel a bit sick, “Well, whoever it is,” he begins, voice strained now, “I’ll protect you from that person.”
It’s now Hangeng’s turn to look up and smile slowly, the brightness never fully reaching his eyes, but it’s enough progress from that state earlier. Heechul’s heart is skipping in leaps and bounds when he sees that smile and really, it’s enough.
It’s better though, when Hangeng lets out a little laugh. Probably laughing at the thought of Heechul being about to protect someone in a manly way.
Heechul wants to say something snarky and witty to get that expression of Hangeng’s face that he knows for a fact is mocking him.
But he bites his tongue, and shuts his mouth, and curls his fingers around Hangeng’s wrist and looks into his eyes and something strange flickers behind them but Heechul doesn’t have time to analyze it because he’s somehow kissing Hangeng and the Chinese man is deftly whispering,
“I love you” against his lips and it takes all of Heechul’s mental capacity not to crawl on to the table and knock off their dinners.
---