water me
xiumin/girl!kris, pg-13, 3500w
at their age, kris and minseok should be having quarter life crises. instead, they feel like they’re back in high school, bathed in insecurity and a little bit of hope. a remix of hurricane by glassfromscars for kpop_ficmix, originally posted here.
Kris is an uncomfortable person - she’s been like that ever since. The two things that make her feel most at home are her chocolate-stained sweatpants and her ratty blanket back at home, which she would prefer to be wrapped in right now. Instead, she is in a bar with Yixing and Yixing’s officemates, who call her a friend but don’t ask her why she frowns at the baby back ribs that they ordered for her.
It’s not her idea of a great Friday night, but she feels like she needs the company. It’s been a tough week and she’s been mulling over too many things - her mother’s shrill reprimands over the phone, her boss’s disappointed frown at the sight of her reports, her officemates’ voices lowering whenever she’d pass by - and she thought she’s probably feel better with people around her.
She doesn’t regret her decision of being here, despite her forcing the grin on her face whenever one of Yixing’s officemates would glance at her, who nodded at all the silences probably at the wrong times. They were nice people, and if she tried hard enough, their conversations wouldn’t be so terrible. Her only conclusion was that something was wrong with her, that in her mid-twenties, she still didn’t know how to be that impressive new girl at a colleague’s dinner.
It’s only nine thirty in the evening when she excuses herself, not being able to take any more of her own mind games. She feels like baggage to the conversation, not being able to relate to their banking talk anyway. “I’ll just be outside. I’ll be quick,” she says to Yixing with a smile. Yixing tsks at her but shoos her away anyway, knowing she couldn’t do anything about it.
Once outside the pub, Kris draws out cigarettes from her clutch and puts one between her lips. She keeps it there as she rummages for a lighter, but without luck. Her roommate Zitao probably snuck it out of her purse this morning in an attempt to get her to stop smoking. Shivering from the continuous gusts of cold wind against her bare shoulders, she looks around and finds only the doorman and a man in a his after-work get-up, tie undone around his collar and blazer hanging from his arm. He doesn’t have a cigarette between his fingers or anything, but she’s desperate enough to ask.
She taps his shoulder and smiles as politely as she could. “Sorry, excuse me, but do you have a light?” she asks as she motions to her cigarette. The man looks taken aback, and Kris can’t help but think he had a pleasant face - charming, really. His hair softly fluttering in the air made her flush slightly. Unfortunately, she has harbored enough crushes on shorter men that she could figure that he probably wouldn’t be interested.
He stares at her for a second too long, which sends nervous jitters down her stomach, but then shares with her a small, almost embarrassed smile as he procures a sheet of matches from his pocket. “I have these, if you need them.” His offer sounds more like a question, his voice soft.
She laughs and accepts, lodging her clutch under her arm and fumbling with the matches. He watches her and she kind of hates herself because she couldn’t get any of the matches to light long enough in the wind. It’s his turn to laugh, a quiet, musical chuckle, and she grunts desperately at the back of her throat, her fingers starting to shake.
“Let me,” he suggests, taking the matches from her and cupping a lit one towards the stick between her lips. He bites his own lip as he does it, and Kris assumes that the warmth against her cheeks isn’t from the fire. “Thanks,” she mutters, turning away to hide her small grin.
Later on, back inside the pub, the corners of her mouth turn up every time they’d catch each other’s eyes. He waves at her when she turns to leave.
Minseok thinks it’s ridiculous how small the world is. He steps into Luhan’s apartment late on a Wednesday evening and a familiar woman is there on Luhan’s couch, recognizable with her tense shoulders, terrible posture, and terrifyingly stunning face.
His first reaction is to widen his eyes and bow. She laughs nervously and he does the same as he straightens his spine.
“Oh, hey Minseok,” Luhan greets. After observing his two visitors for a second, he quirks an eyebrow as he collects three teacups and saucers from his coffee table. “Wait, do you guys know each other?” he says as he heads off to his kitchen.
Minseok nods hesitantly and looks at the girl. Her face is all sharp angles and looks like she can smirk her way into any man’s heart, but her eyes are soft and her lips curve up awkwardly. “Kind of? Do you remember me?” he asks, still at the door.
“Of course,” she states with a nod. He smiles at her - he knows he’s not the most memorable face out there. He’s had to deal with many colleagues seeing him at a party and reintroducing themselves like they’ve never seen him before. “Thanks again for the light.”
“Any time.” He finally gains the courage to walk towards her, arm extended for a handshake. Professional more than friendly, he supposes. “Kim Minseok, by the way.”
“Kris Wu.” Her grip is stronger than he expected, and he smiles again. He has a good feeling about her.
“Oh, didn’t I introduce you guys?” Luhan shouts from the kitchen, only a few steps away from the couch area. “Minseok, Kris. Kris, Minseok.”
“We literally just said that,” Minseok says as he takes a seat beside Kris. She shifts her leg away when their knees bump, and he apologizes quietly before asking, “How do you know Luhan?” This idiot, he almost says, but he takes pride in not being obnoxious at any time of the day.
“We’re workmates,” Kris answers.
“She lives across the street so I thought I’d have her over for coffee,” Luhan adds as he comes back to the living room and sits himself down on a loveseat. “And Jongdae brought over tea that’s good for like, constipation from Beijing. Thought Kris would need it.”
Kris snorts. “Wow, thanks,” she says, looking like she wants to punch him. Minseok wishes she would, sometimes Luhan looks too smug for his own good.
“Luhan’s a little shit isn’t he?” Minseok mock-whispers to Kris, who smiles at him and nods lazily. “I can’t believe I’m friends with him. We should just ditch him and his constipation meds.” Luhan tosses a throw pillow at him and Minseok can’t believe that he’s actually having this conversation with fully grown adults. Then again, the reason why he’s friends with Luhan in the first place is because he needs this sense of immaturity in his life sometimes. Luhan provides him all the childishness he requires.
She laughs - actually laughs, to Minseok’s surprise - and nods again. “Actually, I should get going,” she says, sounding almost apologetic. She knocks knees with him again and lets it stay there, making Minseok’s cheeks go warm.
“Already?” Luhan whines. “You can stay over for dinner, it’s no big deal.”
Kris just stands up and smooths down her skirt, offering no excuses.
Minseok, at this angle, can’t help but notice how smooth and long her legs look. Her ass is a bit on the flat side, but the curve of her waist makes up for it. He guiltily jumps out of his seat, shaking the thoughts from his head. He straightens up after her and holds out a hand. “It was really nice meeting you,” he says with a smile he hopes to be dashing. He tilts his head up a bit to see her eye to eye.
“Great meeting you too,” she echoes, her grin becoming brighter. So this is what a twelve year old girl feels like, Minseok thinks to himself as his feels his heartbeat accelerate in his chest.
“Thanks for coming, drop by more often!” Luhan says like a proper coffee shop clerk. Kris pats him on the shoulder from where she’s walking on the way out, and while the gesture seems like an awkward way to say goodbye to Minseok, Luhan doesn’t seem to mind.
Kris gives Minseok one last smile before she leaves, pushing the door open gently. The two men wave at her then slump back down in their seats a few moments later, when the door shuts closed.
“Kris is kind of an odd one. But she’s hot, isn’t she?” Luhan asks as he lies down on the seat cushion and throws his legs over the arm of the chair.
Minseok nods solemnly, wanting to say more but not finding the right words. He let his heartbeat go back to a normal pace before breathing out, “Stunning.”
Kris doesn’t believe in coincidences, so it must mean something when she’s seen Minseok five times in the past two weeks. The last three were just in passing. They just waved and smiled at each other on the way to work or back, usually on the streets, but the encounters never failed make her feel weirdly hopeful.
And this is another one of those days, Kris realizes, as she steps into the Mexican restaurant six doors down from her office building. It must be fate that her chalupa craving came at such a convenient time.
Minseok’s sitting near the counter, chewing absentmindedly. Even if she wants to avoid him, which is possible as she overthinks and has realized he might think that she was stalking him, she can’t. As she comes nearer, she realizes that his plate is empty. Kris is unsurprised - it is also fate that there is never have a reason to be around each other for too long.
“Hey, Minseok,” she greets as she heads towards him. He swivels his head towards her with wide, surprised eyes.
“Oh, hey,” he replies, voice muffled by food. He swallows quickly and smiles up at her, unaware of a leaf stuck between his teeth. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles. He gestures to the seat across from him, and she’s thankful - standing made her feel so huge and disproportionate next to his tiny seated figure. “By the way, you’ve got something here -“ she says then opens her mouth, tapping her lower row of teeth. She laughs as he covers his mouth in embarrassment with one hand and uses his tongue to try and take it out.
“Still there?” he asks as he bares his teeth at her. It’s an endearing sight, and she laughs and shakes her head. “I’m surprised to see you here, by the way. I’m a regular.”
“Me too. I guess we just happen to run around the same places and never notice,” she says, addressing the previous week’s run-ins. “I’m surprised that I’ve never noticed you before, though.”
“I’m not, I’ve been told I had an unmemorable face,” Minseok says with a shrug.
“Not really? Your face is really interesting.” Kris can’t bring herself to say what she really means, but she hopes he gets what she’s driving at.
He seems taken aback. “Thanks,” he stutters out. His smile is embarrassed and it’s on its own level of adorable that she hasn’t seen in a while. She gets flashbacks of her high school crushes, passing by them in hallways and seeing them on the bleachers during PE. “That’s a real compliment, coming from you.”
“Me?” she repeats, furrowing her eyebrows.
“Your face is…striking,” he says, and suddenly, his smile seems to have become a bit shy. She must have looked confused, because he follows up with, “In a good way! A pretty kind of striking. I’m sure you’ve heard that a lot before.”
There it is again - a fifteen year old Kris not catching a basketball because that one senior glanced her way and tripping over her own two feet into three of her teammates. She has so many questions - Why her? What does he see? - but Minseok looks down at his watch and jumps a bit in his seat.
“Sorry, I have to go,” he apologizes, worrying his lip, “I’m late. I’ll see you around?”
Kris nods absently, waves goodbye, and watches Minseok retreat in haste. A let’s do this again sometime dies on her lips.
Minseok has seen Kris an uncountable number of times in the next week, and therefore his heart has been beating faster than usual as of late. He thinks that he’s too old for this - he had left this kind of behavior behind in his freshman year of college.
More often than not, they end up conversing in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking the paths of annoyed yuppies and angry mothers. They wave then ask each other questions: simples ones like, “How was your morning?”, “Have you seen Luhan lately?”, and “Did you get a haircut?” They’re the kind of questions Minseok regrets five seconds after parting with Kris, feeling like he had missed every opportunity for extended conversation.
Shame he wasn’t a smooth talker. Days like these, he wishes he was like his officemate, Baekhyun, who picked up girls like he could litter. Except Baekhyun wouldn’t actually pick up litter, that lazy fucker, and Minseok couldn’t see how girls could stand him for too long. He admired Baekhyun in a way, though. The boy was determined with the right incentive.
The one thing that he couldn’t seem to ask Kris for was her number, and he felt kind of ridiculous for it. Nearer thirty than twenty years old and he still couldn’t ask for a girl’s number. He places it on the intimidating glint of Kris’s eye and the fact that she looked like she didn’t really give a shit about anyone. It was a much better excuse than his lack of courage, and besides, it was half-true.
That doesn’t stop Minseok’s subconscious to decide to dream about Kris, though. One dream in particular featured Kris in a short, tight dress at a bar, reminiscent of their first meeting, except their conversation was smooth and flirty. He bought her a drink and at the end of dream-Minseok’s night, they were making out at the fire exit, languid and slow.
When Minseok wakes up, he sits up in his bed with the ghost of a mouth on his lips. He’s incredibly guilty, but more than guilt is the heavy feeling of disappointment. If only things were that easy, he thinks. He doesn’t sleep that night, mouth dry at the thought of Kris’ tongue battling his own.
Kris dreams of Minseok, too, and it also involves a lot of kissing. This time, though, there is more bare skin, and Kris is pretty sure that at one point, Kris got down on her knees and listened to Minseok’s lewd moans behind closed eyes. She wakes up in a pool of her own sweat and with her hands pressed against herself desperately.
She’s grateful when she doesn’t pass by Minseok on the way to work, for once. She doesn’t know if she can meet his eyes without blushing, thinking about his lips parted, panting, asking for her to do that again -
She snaps out of her twisted daydream when Luhan shows up, his face hovering above the cubicle partition of her desk. She’s startled but she still bows her head in greeting. “Hey Luhan.” Her voice is soft and shaky, and she’s pretty sure she stuttered.
Luhan raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask her any questions except, “Are you free Saturday night?”
“Uh,” she mumbles as she raises one hand and looks over her desk planner, trying to think of a way out. It’s an impulse reaction. She usually likes sitting around her and Zitao’s flat on Saturday nights, since it’s when she can keep up with her reality tv shows. “It depends?” she answers weakly.
“It’s my birthday on Saturday and I’m planning a small party in my apartment,” Luhan says. She’s obviously still hesitant so he adds, “C’mon, people you know will be there! Jongdae, Joonmyun from HR, Minseok…”
She gulps at the sound of his name and Luhan stops and smiles, like he can see right through her. She hopes not.
“So you’re in?” he asks, his tone hopeful.
“…Yeah, sure, sounds great,” she says as coolly as she can manage. He doesn’t smirk at her, which she takes as a good sign. She’s good at sounding like she didn’t care.
“Great,” he echoes, throwing her a thumbs up. “Party starts at nine. See you then!”
Kris nods and immediately imagines a catalog of her clothing, trying to piece together an outfit that will salvage her future awkward attempts at conversation and the inevitable tripping over her own two feet.
Minseok is late to Luhan’s party without meaning to be. Luhan called him at seven in the evening to put him on cake duty, and though he doubts any of Luhan’s guests would be eating cake tonight, he drove four cities away just to buy Luhan’s favorite.
When he enters, the lights are low and everyone already looks pleasantly buzzed. It’s a pretty large gathering for such a small apartment, probably more or less thirty people. As he looks around, hoping to catch sight of a certain someone who Luhan said would be there, Luhan sidles up to him and throws an arm around his shoulders.
“Finally, you came!” he says, speaking louder than usual despite the chillwave electronic being set pretty low. Minseok can already smell the alcohol on his breath. “Why are you so late?”
“I got your favorite cake, asshole,” Minseok says, but without any hint of annoyance in his voice, “Happy birthday.”
“You’re the best, Minseokkie!” Luhan sings then pats Minseok’s butt, “Now put it in the fridge. I love you!”
Minseok rolls his eyes but does it anyway. The kitchen is small but closed off from the living room, so the sounds of chatter and soft music are muffled from the inside. It’s a good place to relax, so he sits there for a few seconds before heading out again. Right as he’s about to step out, Kris walks in, legs wobbling in her heels.
He catches her hand before she plants her face on the ground, and she gives him a grateful smile.
“Hey,” she breathes out, and Minseok can tell Luhan’s probably offered her his terrible mixed shots along with the beer she was holding in one hand. He leads her to sit down where he was a few seconds ago.
“Hey, drunk already?” Minseok laughs goodnaturedly and watches as her chest move up and down quickly with her breathing, covered by her low cut dress. She was definitely a bit tipsy. His smile dims as he sees her lick her lips before taking a quick swig of her beer.
“I don’t know what the hell Luhan put in that drink,” Kris says, still clutching onto one of his hands. Minseok smiles as her grip tightens. Her fingers are nice and long, he notes, and her palms smooth. Her voice is kind of rough and husky at this point and the sound of it makes the hair at the back of his neck stand up.
“Neither does he,” he mutters, and then it’s Kris’ turn to laugh. After that, they stay in silence, Minseok still standing and her, sitting, their hands clasped together casually.
They sneak out ten minutes later onto the outdoor fire escape so Kris could smoke. Minseok comes with her to get some fresh air himself, or so he says.
That’s how Minseok ends up staring at Kris as he sits on a rusty step, features harsh against the emergency lights. But her eyes were soft and unfocused, her lips blowing out smoke every few seconds. The wind made her hair fly over her bare shoulders, sharp and hunched over.
He’s reminded of his dream and how soft Kris’ lips felt against his in it. His knees suddenly feel weak and he leans his head against the wall. At that moment, Kris’s head turns towards him and he smiles at her.
“What’s up?” she asks him, looking a bit more sober than she did a while ago. If he had Luhan’s dumb drink in his system, he would have kissed her by now, but he hadn’t, so he just kind of stares helplessly at her glossy lips.
He licks his own lips and switches his gaze to her eyes. He’s pretty sure it’s now or never.
“Will you go out with me?” he hears himself ask. His hesitation makes him feel like he’s twelve years old again: kind of dumb, but very hopeful.
She gulps, the shadows moving over her throat. He distinctly remembers littering her neck with kisses in his dream, and he inhales sharply. “Yes. Yes, yeah,” she stutters, exhaling some smoke in his face in haste, which she apologizes for, but he honestly doesn’t mind.
With her wide odd smile and flushed cheeks, Kris looks a lot less intimidating than when he first met her. She’s a bit more awkward than he expected, but that makes her shy grins more attractive to him, especially up close.
Above all things, her lips really did feel soft against his.
Her lips willingly parting at the swipe of his tongue is the first moment in their entire relationship so far that he actually feels his age.
at their age, kris and minseok should be having quarter life crises. instead, they feel like they’re back in high school, bathed in insecurity and a little bit of hope. a remix of hurricane by glassfromscars for kpop_ficmix, originally posted here.
Kris is an uncomfortable person - she’s been like that ever since. The two things that make her feel most at home are her chocolate-stained sweatpants and her ratty blanket back at home, which she would prefer to be wrapped in right now. Instead, she is in a bar with Yixing and Yixing’s officemates, who call her a friend but don’t ask her why she frowns at the baby back ribs that they ordered for her.
It’s not her idea of a great Friday night, but she feels like she needs the company. It’s been a tough week and she’s been mulling over too many things - her mother’s shrill reprimands over the phone, her boss’s disappointed frown at the sight of her reports, her officemates’ voices lowering whenever she’d pass by - and she thought she’s probably feel better with people around her.
She doesn’t regret her decision of being here, despite her forcing the grin on her face whenever one of Yixing’s officemates would glance at her, who nodded at all the silences probably at the wrong times. They were nice people, and if she tried hard enough, their conversations wouldn’t be so terrible. Her only conclusion was that something was wrong with her, that in her mid-twenties, she still didn’t know how to be that impressive new girl at a colleague’s dinner.
It’s only nine thirty in the evening when she excuses herself, not being able to take any more of her own mind games. She feels like baggage to the conversation, not being able to relate to their banking talk anyway. “I’ll just be outside. I’ll be quick,” she says to Yixing with a smile. Yixing tsks at her but shoos her away anyway, knowing she couldn’t do anything about it.
Once outside the pub, Kris draws out cigarettes from her clutch and puts one between her lips. She keeps it there as she rummages for a lighter, but without luck. Her roommate Zitao probably snuck it out of her purse this morning in an attempt to get her to stop smoking. Shivering from the continuous gusts of cold wind against her bare shoulders, she looks around and finds only the doorman and a man in a his after-work get-up, tie undone around his collar and blazer hanging from his arm. He doesn’t have a cigarette between his fingers or anything, but she’s desperate enough to ask.
She taps his shoulder and smiles as politely as she could. “Sorry, excuse me, but do you have a light?” she asks as she motions to her cigarette. The man looks taken aback, and Kris can’t help but think he had a pleasant face - charming, really. His hair softly fluttering in the air made her flush slightly. Unfortunately, she has harbored enough crushes on shorter men that she could figure that he probably wouldn’t be interested.
He stares at her for a second too long, which sends nervous jitters down her stomach, but then shares with her a small, almost embarrassed smile as he procures a sheet of matches from his pocket. “I have these, if you need them.” His offer sounds more like a question, his voice soft.
She laughs and accepts, lodging her clutch under her arm and fumbling with the matches. He watches her and she kind of hates herself because she couldn’t get any of the matches to light long enough in the wind. It’s his turn to laugh, a quiet, musical chuckle, and she grunts desperately at the back of her throat, her fingers starting to shake.
“Let me,” he suggests, taking the matches from her and cupping a lit one towards the stick between her lips. He bites his own lip as he does it, and Kris assumes that the warmth against her cheeks isn’t from the fire. “Thanks,” she mutters, turning away to hide her small grin.
Later on, back inside the pub, the corners of her mouth turn up every time they’d catch each other’s eyes. He waves at her when she turns to leave.
Minseok thinks it’s ridiculous how small the world is. He steps into Luhan’s apartment late on a Wednesday evening and a familiar woman is there on Luhan’s couch, recognizable with her tense shoulders, terrible posture, and terrifyingly stunning face.
His first reaction is to widen his eyes and bow. She laughs nervously and he does the same as he straightens his spine.
“Oh, hey Minseok,” Luhan greets. After observing his two visitors for a second, he quirks an eyebrow as he collects three teacups and saucers from his coffee table. “Wait, do you guys know each other?” he says as he heads off to his kitchen.
Minseok nods hesitantly and looks at the girl. Her face is all sharp angles and looks like she can smirk her way into any man’s heart, but her eyes are soft and her lips curve up awkwardly. “Kind of? Do you remember me?” he asks, still at the door.
“Of course,” she states with a nod. He smiles at her - he knows he’s not the most memorable face out there. He’s had to deal with many colleagues seeing him at a party and reintroducing themselves like they’ve never seen him before. “Thanks again for the light.”
“Any time.” He finally gains the courage to walk towards her, arm extended for a handshake. Professional more than friendly, he supposes. “Kim Minseok, by the way.”
“Kris Wu.” Her grip is stronger than he expected, and he smiles again. He has a good feeling about her.
“Oh, didn’t I introduce you guys?” Luhan shouts from the kitchen, only a few steps away from the couch area. “Minseok, Kris. Kris, Minseok.”
“We literally just said that,” Minseok says as he takes a seat beside Kris. She shifts her leg away when their knees bump, and he apologizes quietly before asking, “How do you know Luhan?” This idiot, he almost says, but he takes pride in not being obnoxious at any time of the day.
“We’re workmates,” Kris answers.
“She lives across the street so I thought I’d have her over for coffee,” Luhan adds as he comes back to the living room and sits himself down on a loveseat. “And Jongdae brought over tea that’s good for like, constipation from Beijing. Thought Kris would need it.”
Kris snorts. “Wow, thanks,” she says, looking like she wants to punch him. Minseok wishes she would, sometimes Luhan looks too smug for his own good.
“Luhan’s a little shit isn’t he?” Minseok mock-whispers to Kris, who smiles at him and nods lazily. “I can’t believe I’m friends with him. We should just ditch him and his constipation meds.” Luhan tosses a throw pillow at him and Minseok can’t believe that he’s actually having this conversation with fully grown adults. Then again, the reason why he’s friends with Luhan in the first place is because he needs this sense of immaturity in his life sometimes. Luhan provides him all the childishness he requires.
She laughs - actually laughs, to Minseok’s surprise - and nods again. “Actually, I should get going,” she says, sounding almost apologetic. She knocks knees with him again and lets it stay there, making Minseok’s cheeks go warm.
“Already?” Luhan whines. “You can stay over for dinner, it’s no big deal.”
Kris just stands up and smooths down her skirt, offering no excuses.
Minseok, at this angle, can’t help but notice how smooth and long her legs look. Her ass is a bit on the flat side, but the curve of her waist makes up for it. He guiltily jumps out of his seat, shaking the thoughts from his head. He straightens up after her and holds out a hand. “It was really nice meeting you,” he says with a smile he hopes to be dashing. He tilts his head up a bit to see her eye to eye.
“Great meeting you too,” she echoes, her grin becoming brighter. So this is what a twelve year old girl feels like, Minseok thinks to himself as his feels his heartbeat accelerate in his chest.
“Thanks for coming, drop by more often!” Luhan says like a proper coffee shop clerk. Kris pats him on the shoulder from where she’s walking on the way out, and while the gesture seems like an awkward way to say goodbye to Minseok, Luhan doesn’t seem to mind.
Kris gives Minseok one last smile before she leaves, pushing the door open gently. The two men wave at her then slump back down in their seats a few moments later, when the door shuts closed.
“Kris is kind of an odd one. But she’s hot, isn’t she?” Luhan asks as he lies down on the seat cushion and throws his legs over the arm of the chair.
Minseok nods solemnly, wanting to say more but not finding the right words. He let his heartbeat go back to a normal pace before breathing out, “Stunning.”
Kris doesn’t believe in coincidences, so it must mean something when she’s seen Minseok five times in the past two weeks. The last three were just in passing. They just waved and smiled at each other on the way to work or back, usually on the streets, but the encounters never failed make her feel weirdly hopeful.
And this is another one of those days, Kris realizes, as she steps into the Mexican restaurant six doors down from her office building. It must be fate that her chalupa craving came at such a convenient time.
Minseok’s sitting near the counter, chewing absentmindedly. Even if she wants to avoid him, which is possible as she overthinks and has realized he might think that she was stalking him, she can’t. As she comes nearer, she realizes that his plate is empty. Kris is unsurprised - it is also fate that there is never have a reason to be around each other for too long.
“Hey, Minseok,” she greets as she heads towards him. He swivels his head towards her with wide, surprised eyes.
“Oh, hey,” he replies, voice muffled by food. He swallows quickly and smiles up at her, unaware of a leaf stuck between his teeth. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles. He gestures to the seat across from him, and she’s thankful - standing made her feel so huge and disproportionate next to his tiny seated figure. “By the way, you’ve got something here -“ she says then opens her mouth, tapping her lower row of teeth. She laughs as he covers his mouth in embarrassment with one hand and uses his tongue to try and take it out.
“Still there?” he asks as he bares his teeth at her. It’s an endearing sight, and she laughs and shakes her head. “I’m surprised to see you here, by the way. I’m a regular.”
“Me too. I guess we just happen to run around the same places and never notice,” she says, addressing the previous week’s run-ins. “I’m surprised that I’ve never noticed you before, though.”
“I’m not, I’ve been told I had an unmemorable face,” Minseok says with a shrug.
“Not really? Your face is really interesting.” Kris can’t bring herself to say what she really means, but she hopes he gets what she’s driving at.
He seems taken aback. “Thanks,” he stutters out. His smile is embarrassed and it’s on its own level of adorable that she hasn’t seen in a while. She gets flashbacks of her high school crushes, passing by them in hallways and seeing them on the bleachers during PE. “That’s a real compliment, coming from you.”
“Me?” she repeats, furrowing her eyebrows.
“Your face is…striking,” he says, and suddenly, his smile seems to have become a bit shy. She must have looked confused, because he follows up with, “In a good way! A pretty kind of striking. I’m sure you’ve heard that a lot before.”
There it is again - a fifteen year old Kris not catching a basketball because that one senior glanced her way and tripping over her own two feet into three of her teammates. She has so many questions - Why her? What does he see? - but Minseok looks down at his watch and jumps a bit in his seat.
“Sorry, I have to go,” he apologizes, worrying his lip, “I’m late. I’ll see you around?”
Kris nods absently, waves goodbye, and watches Minseok retreat in haste. A let’s do this again sometime dies on her lips.
Minseok has seen Kris an uncountable number of times in the next week, and therefore his heart has been beating faster than usual as of late. He thinks that he’s too old for this - he had left this kind of behavior behind in his freshman year of college.
More often than not, they end up conversing in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking the paths of annoyed yuppies and angry mothers. They wave then ask each other questions: simples ones like, “How was your morning?”, “Have you seen Luhan lately?”, and “Did you get a haircut?” They’re the kind of questions Minseok regrets five seconds after parting with Kris, feeling like he had missed every opportunity for extended conversation.
Shame he wasn’t a smooth talker. Days like these, he wishes he was like his officemate, Baekhyun, who picked up girls like he could litter. Except Baekhyun wouldn’t actually pick up litter, that lazy fucker, and Minseok couldn’t see how girls could stand him for too long. He admired Baekhyun in a way, though. The boy was determined with the right incentive.
The one thing that he couldn’t seem to ask Kris for was her number, and he felt kind of ridiculous for it. Nearer thirty than twenty years old and he still couldn’t ask for a girl’s number. He places it on the intimidating glint of Kris’s eye and the fact that she looked like she didn’t really give a shit about anyone. It was a much better excuse than his lack of courage, and besides, it was half-true.
That doesn’t stop Minseok’s subconscious to decide to dream about Kris, though. One dream in particular featured Kris in a short, tight dress at a bar, reminiscent of their first meeting, except their conversation was smooth and flirty. He bought her a drink and at the end of dream-Minseok’s night, they were making out at the fire exit, languid and slow.
When Minseok wakes up, he sits up in his bed with the ghost of a mouth on his lips. He’s incredibly guilty, but more than guilt is the heavy feeling of disappointment. If only things were that easy, he thinks. He doesn’t sleep that night, mouth dry at the thought of Kris’ tongue battling his own.
Kris dreams of Minseok, too, and it also involves a lot of kissing. This time, though, there is more bare skin, and Kris is pretty sure that at one point, Kris got down on her knees and listened to Minseok’s lewd moans behind closed eyes. She wakes up in a pool of her own sweat and with her hands pressed against herself desperately.
She’s grateful when she doesn’t pass by Minseok on the way to work, for once. She doesn’t know if she can meet his eyes without blushing, thinking about his lips parted, panting, asking for her to do that again -
She snaps out of her twisted daydream when Luhan shows up, his face hovering above the cubicle partition of her desk. She’s startled but she still bows her head in greeting. “Hey Luhan.” Her voice is soft and shaky, and she’s pretty sure she stuttered.
Luhan raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask her any questions except, “Are you free Saturday night?”
“Uh,” she mumbles as she raises one hand and looks over her desk planner, trying to think of a way out. It’s an impulse reaction. She usually likes sitting around her and Zitao’s flat on Saturday nights, since it’s when she can keep up with her reality tv shows. “It depends?” she answers weakly.
“It’s my birthday on Saturday and I’m planning a small party in my apartment,” Luhan says. She’s obviously still hesitant so he adds, “C’mon, people you know will be there! Jongdae, Joonmyun from HR, Minseok…”
She gulps at the sound of his name and Luhan stops and smiles, like he can see right through her. She hopes not.
“So you’re in?” he asks, his tone hopeful.
“…Yeah, sure, sounds great,” she says as coolly as she can manage. He doesn’t smirk at her, which she takes as a good sign. She’s good at sounding like she didn’t care.
“Great,” he echoes, throwing her a thumbs up. “Party starts at nine. See you then!”
Kris nods and immediately imagines a catalog of her clothing, trying to piece together an outfit that will salvage her future awkward attempts at conversation and the inevitable tripping over her own two feet.
Minseok is late to Luhan’s party without meaning to be. Luhan called him at seven in the evening to put him on cake duty, and though he doubts any of Luhan’s guests would be eating cake tonight, he drove four cities away just to buy Luhan’s favorite.
When he enters, the lights are low and everyone already looks pleasantly buzzed. It’s a pretty large gathering for such a small apartment, probably more or less thirty people. As he looks around, hoping to catch sight of a certain someone who Luhan said would be there, Luhan sidles up to him and throws an arm around his shoulders.
“Finally, you came!” he says, speaking louder than usual despite the chillwave electronic being set pretty low. Minseok can already smell the alcohol on his breath. “Why are you so late?”
“I got your favorite cake, asshole,” Minseok says, but without any hint of annoyance in his voice, “Happy birthday.”
“You’re the best, Minseokkie!” Luhan sings then pats Minseok’s butt, “Now put it in the fridge. I love you!”
Minseok rolls his eyes but does it anyway. The kitchen is small but closed off from the living room, so the sounds of chatter and soft music are muffled from the inside. It’s a good place to relax, so he sits there for a few seconds before heading out again. Right as he’s about to step out, Kris walks in, legs wobbling in her heels.
He catches her hand before she plants her face on the ground, and she gives him a grateful smile.
“Hey,” she breathes out, and Minseok can tell Luhan’s probably offered her his terrible mixed shots along with the beer she was holding in one hand. He leads her to sit down where he was a few seconds ago.
“Hey, drunk already?” Minseok laughs goodnaturedly and watches as her chest move up and down quickly with her breathing, covered by her low cut dress. She was definitely a bit tipsy. His smile dims as he sees her lick her lips before taking a quick swig of her beer.
“I don’t know what the hell Luhan put in that drink,” Kris says, still clutching onto one of his hands. Minseok smiles as her grip tightens. Her fingers are nice and long, he notes, and her palms smooth. Her voice is kind of rough and husky at this point and the sound of it makes the hair at the back of his neck stand up.
“Neither does he,” he mutters, and then it’s Kris’ turn to laugh. After that, they stay in silence, Minseok still standing and her, sitting, their hands clasped together casually.
They sneak out ten minutes later onto the outdoor fire escape so Kris could smoke. Minseok comes with her to get some fresh air himself, or so he says.
That’s how Minseok ends up staring at Kris as he sits on a rusty step, features harsh against the emergency lights. But her eyes were soft and unfocused, her lips blowing out smoke every few seconds. The wind made her hair fly over her bare shoulders, sharp and hunched over.
He’s reminded of his dream and how soft Kris’ lips felt against his in it. His knees suddenly feel weak and he leans his head against the wall. At that moment, Kris’s head turns towards him and he smiles at her.
“What’s up?” she asks him, looking a bit more sober than she did a while ago. If he had Luhan’s dumb drink in his system, he would have kissed her by now, but he hadn’t, so he just kind of stares helplessly at her glossy lips.
He licks his own lips and switches his gaze to her eyes. He’s pretty sure it’s now or never.
“Will you go out with me?” he hears himself ask. His hesitation makes him feel like he’s twelve years old again: kind of dumb, but very hopeful.
She gulps, the shadows moving over her throat. He distinctly remembers littering her neck with kisses in his dream, and he inhales sharply. “Yes. Yes, yeah,” she stutters, exhaling some smoke in his face in haste, which she apologizes for, but he honestly doesn’t mind.
With her wide odd smile and flushed cheeks, Kris looks a lot less intimidating than when he first met her. She’s a bit more awkward than he expected, but that makes her shy grins more attractive to him, especially up close.
Above all things, her lips really did feel soft against his.
Her lips willingly parting at the swipe of his tongue is the first moment in their entire relationship so far that he actually feels his age.