A Fool's Holiday (5/?)
Title: A Fool's Holiday (5/?)
Author: cocobaby347
Pairing: Nichkhun/Wooyoung
Rating: PG13?
Summary: College AU. Two haters of Valentine's Day meet in a bar. (I suck at summaries. I know.)
A/N: To all my readers, and especially to all of my commenters, I love you<3
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 8 [Unlocked] | 8.5 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 (part 1) | 12 (part 2) | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 |
Nichkhun shuffled into his mandatory Korean History class listless, unenthused, and completely pessimistic in his assessment of the course. While he managed to avoid taking it the year before with some heavy winking and major eyelash batting, this year he hadn’t been so lucky. His dreary mood of course, had all to do with the fact that he didn’t want to take the class (and not because of other highly unrelated things).
It had been a month since the whole…fiasco as Nichkhun so fondly labeled it. He explained to his roommates that in his drunken state, he had fallen asleep on a bus stop bench thinking that was better instead of walking all the way home.
His friends had been satisfied with the whole story and hadn’t pressed him with questions. The image of a knocked out Nichkhun sprawled out at a bus stop had been so funny to them, they were laughing too hard to bother with anything else.
Especially when Jaebeom had very inappropriately joked and asked if he wanted to be taken to a hospital to make sure he hadn’t been accosted by a hobo (“A pretty boy like you blacked out at a bus stop, plus a dark, empty street, equals best Valentine’s Day gift for a bum. Ever.”). The ashen pallor and look of shocked horror that had settled on Nichkhun’s face had gone unnoticed by the rest of them in their mirth.
But the taunts and jokes solely at his expense were worth it considering it had been at the end of second term when whatever deities existed decided that it would be fun to screw with an already upset Nichkhun. Trying to find ways to avoid his friends and talk to them in as ambiguous terms as possible was already difficult, and he didn’t need to add the stress of finals along with it. Plus, because of exams, his friends were preoccupied in their own personal ways. They were much too busy to bother with interrogating Nichkhun.
He walked up to the third row, dumped his supplies in the third seat, and sat in the one next to it in effort to keep anybody from sitting next to him. No one would hooch up next to him in the first seat since he was sitting in the second seat, it was at the end of the row, and his stuff was in the next one over, too. The perfect plan. Sometimes he had to congratulate himself on his own genius.
He even dressed for the part of the unfriendly upperclassman wearing the frumpiest gray sweatshirt he had with the name of his school printed in large, boldfaced print across the front in burgundy. He wasn’t a freshman anymore; he wasn’t looking to make friends.
Nichkhun watched as the class filled up, peering at the haughty faces of the sophomores as they sauntered in. It was natural he assumed, considering after being afraid pretty much all of freshman year, sophomores felt like they owned the campus after “paying their dues”. Hell, he had been the same way. Nichkhun had the mind frame that led him to believe he could do anything, all thanks to the girlfriend he had gotten his first year of college.
Nichkhun froze at that thought and willed himself to think of anything else. Well, almost everything else, a certain chubby-cheeked male was also out of the question.
He tried harder to focus on things in the amphitheater, and was all too relieved when his professor began to read off the syllabus, waiting patiently for him to lecture the underclassmen about academic integrity.
As soon as his professor finished he started class, but not even two minutes into his lesson, a person burst through the door at the bottom in a rush. Nichkhun watched as he gesticulated wildly to the professor, most likely verbalizing an excuse.
He tried to keep himself from laughing at the scene, but failed when he saw his professor raise a very not amused eyebrow and crossed his arms across his chest. The boy must have heard him laugh and turned around to find the source, causing Nichkhun’s heart to skip a beat.
It was the same boy he had woken up next to the day after Valentine’s Day.
Holy. God. Damn. Shit.
He offered Nichkhun a small, timid smile and turned back around before Nichkhun could react.
“Of all the classes…” Nichkhun buried his head in his hands and groaned to himself, trying his best at mentally calculating the odds of this happening. He was pretty sure they were close to zero.
When he looked up, he saw the boy was making his way towards the seating area. He immediately grabbed his bag and starting digging through it, pretending he was looking for something.
Nichkhun hoped that if he didn’t make eye contact a second time, he wouldn’t sit next to him. It took all of his willpower not to cuss out loud when he heard footsteps stop at his row and a body slide in the seat next to him.
“Hey, since you’re looking around in there, can I borrow a pencil. I kind of forgot to bring one.” Nichkhun was startled when he suddenly whispered into his ear.
“S-Sure.”
As Nichkhun handed a pencil to him, he smiled and said, “Thank you. I’m Jang Wooyoung, by the way.”
“Nichkhun.” It took every ounce of self-control Nichkhun had to keep his voice steady when their fingers brushed.
Wooyoung frowned a bit when Nichkhun introduced himself but then shook his head and started taking notes. Nichkhun tried to follow his example, but couldn’t help but constantly peer up out of the corner of his eye at him. He was relieved that Wooyoung didn’t remember him, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous.
What was even worse was that his brain decided it would be a good idea to cycle through his memories of Valentine’s Day night. He kept thinking about how Wooyoung’s tongue felt twisting around his own, and how he remembered Wooyoung’s voice being at least two octaves higher-
Nichkhun felt his face heat up as he realized exactly why his voice had sounded so much higher than it did now. Inhaling sharply, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and tried to zone in on his professor’s voice. He didn’t even know why he put in the effort, though, because Nichkhun couldn’t concentrate worth a damn.
All of his thoughts pertained to Wooyoung, and definitely not in a good way. All he could hear was Wooyoung’s (two octaves higher) voice moaning things like yes, oh God, Nichkhun, I’m almost-I’m gonna-!
Nichkhun pushed his pencil down so hard the tip broke. He be damned he was getting turned on in the middle of class, and by a guy who was sitting right next to him, no less. What the fuck was happening? This was inappropriate on so many levels he didn’t even want to think about it.
But Nichkhun didn’t seem to be getting what he wanted lately.
He continued to take little peeks at Wooyoung until he thought he had developed some sort of paralysis in his neck and decided it would be easier just to straight up stare at the other boy. Maybe if he looked at him enough he could get Wooyoung out of his system. He thought he was too busy to notice, especially since Wooyoung was absorbed in a notebook scribbling down notes and he hadn’t looked over once.
“You know,” Wooyoung muttered as he continued to bullet point the lecture, “It’s kind of creepy that you keep staring at me.”
Nichkhun’s ears turned red and he directed his eyes toward his blank paper in replacement of Wooyoung’s face. He sputtered out an apology in embarrassment and stumbled over his words as he said, “I-I just thought you looked familiar…or s-something.”
Wooyoung stopped writing long enough to look at Nichkhun’s bright red ears, bite his lip to keep from laughing, and shrug even though he knew Nichkhun wasn’t looking.
“Maybe, I’m a Fine Arts major so you may have seen me dance at a function.” Wooyoung responded casually.
A light bulb went off in Nichkhun’s head and he looked up at Wooyoung in surprise. If he was a dancer, then that meant…
“Do you know, Park Jaebeom?” Nichkhun asked curiously.
Wooyoung’s head snapped up and his eyes widened in shock. As Wooyoung gaped at him, Nichkhun stared back in confusion, completely lost as to why Wooyoung was looking at him as if he had said something sacrilegious. In his confusion, he forgot to be embarrassed.
“Of course I know Jaebeom,” Wooyoung said as he ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “He’s like-the god of the Dance Department!”
“Oh.” Nichkhun was taken aback by Wooyoung’s sudden outburst and didn’t know how else to respond. He was starting to get self-conscious again, but for a different reason this time.
Wooyoung continued to gaze at Nichkhun in astonishment, and Nichkhun couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something as he stared back. It was if he was totally missing the gravity of the situation, but it wasn’t that big of a deal in the first place. At least not to Nichkhun, anyway.
He felt like a loser when Wooyoung turned back to his notes shaking his head. He lived with Jaebeom and he didn’t know that he was the best thing since sliced bread, apparently. Nichkhun slid down in his seat and ducked his head.
This class couldn’t end any faster.
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Author: cocobaby347
Pairing: Nichkhun/Wooyoung
Rating: PG13?
Summary: College AU. Two haters of Valentine's Day meet in a bar. (I suck at summaries. I know.)
A/N: To all my readers, and especially to all of my commenters, I love you<3
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 8 [Unlocked] | 8.5 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 (part 1) | 12 (part 2) | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 |
Nichkhun shuffled into his mandatory Korean History class listless, unenthused, and completely pessimistic in his assessment of the course. While he managed to avoid taking it the year before with some heavy winking and major eyelash batting, this year he hadn’t been so lucky. His dreary mood of course, had all to do with the fact that he didn’t want to take the class (and not because of other highly unrelated things).
It had been a month since the whole…fiasco as Nichkhun so fondly labeled it. He explained to his roommates that in his drunken state, he had fallen asleep on a bus stop bench thinking that was better instead of walking all the way home.
His friends had been satisfied with the whole story and hadn’t pressed him with questions. The image of a knocked out Nichkhun sprawled out at a bus stop had been so funny to them, they were laughing too hard to bother with anything else.
Especially when Jaebeom had very inappropriately joked and asked if he wanted to be taken to a hospital to make sure he hadn’t been accosted by a hobo (“A pretty boy like you blacked out at a bus stop, plus a dark, empty street, equals best Valentine’s Day gift for a bum. Ever.”). The ashen pallor and look of shocked horror that had settled on Nichkhun’s face had gone unnoticed by the rest of them in their mirth.
But the taunts and jokes solely at his expense were worth it considering it had been at the end of second term when whatever deities existed decided that it would be fun to screw with an already upset Nichkhun. Trying to find ways to avoid his friends and talk to them in as ambiguous terms as possible was already difficult, and he didn’t need to add the stress of finals along with it. Plus, because of exams, his friends were preoccupied in their own personal ways. They were much too busy to bother with interrogating Nichkhun.
He walked up to the third row, dumped his supplies in the third seat, and sat in the one next to it in effort to keep anybody from sitting next to him. No one would hooch up next to him in the first seat since he was sitting in the second seat, it was at the end of the row, and his stuff was in the next one over, too. The perfect plan. Sometimes he had to congratulate himself on his own genius.
He even dressed for the part of the unfriendly upperclassman wearing the frumpiest gray sweatshirt he had with the name of his school printed in large, boldfaced print across the front in burgundy. He wasn’t a freshman anymore; he wasn’t looking to make friends.
Nichkhun watched as the class filled up, peering at the haughty faces of the sophomores as they sauntered in. It was natural he assumed, considering after being afraid pretty much all of freshman year, sophomores felt like they owned the campus after “paying their dues”. Hell, he had been the same way. Nichkhun had the mind frame that led him to believe he could do anything, all thanks to the girlfriend he had gotten his first year of college.
Nichkhun froze at that thought and willed himself to think of anything else. Well, almost everything else, a certain chubby-cheeked male was also out of the question.
He tried harder to focus on things in the amphitheater, and was all too relieved when his professor began to read off the syllabus, waiting patiently for him to lecture the underclassmen about academic integrity.
As soon as his professor finished he started class, but not even two minutes into his lesson, a person burst through the door at the bottom in a rush. Nichkhun watched as he gesticulated wildly to the professor, most likely verbalizing an excuse.
He tried to keep himself from laughing at the scene, but failed when he saw his professor raise a very not amused eyebrow and crossed his arms across his chest. The boy must have heard him laugh and turned around to find the source, causing Nichkhun’s heart to skip a beat.
It was the same boy he had woken up next to the day after Valentine’s Day.
Holy. God. Damn. Shit.
He offered Nichkhun a small, timid smile and turned back around before Nichkhun could react.
“Of all the classes…” Nichkhun buried his head in his hands and groaned to himself, trying his best at mentally calculating the odds of this happening. He was pretty sure they were close to zero.
When he looked up, he saw the boy was making his way towards the seating area. He immediately grabbed his bag and starting digging through it, pretending he was looking for something.
Nichkhun hoped that if he didn’t make eye contact a second time, he wouldn’t sit next to him. It took all of his willpower not to cuss out loud when he heard footsteps stop at his row and a body slide in the seat next to him.
“Hey, since you’re looking around in there, can I borrow a pencil. I kind of forgot to bring one.” Nichkhun was startled when he suddenly whispered into his ear.
“S-Sure.”
As Nichkhun handed a pencil to him, he smiled and said, “Thank you. I’m Jang Wooyoung, by the way.”
“Nichkhun.” It took every ounce of self-control Nichkhun had to keep his voice steady when their fingers brushed.
Wooyoung frowned a bit when Nichkhun introduced himself but then shook his head and started taking notes. Nichkhun tried to follow his example, but couldn’t help but constantly peer up out of the corner of his eye at him. He was relieved that Wooyoung didn’t remember him, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous.
What was even worse was that his brain decided it would be a good idea to cycle through his memories of Valentine’s Day night. He kept thinking about how Wooyoung’s tongue felt twisting around his own, and how he remembered Wooyoung’s voice being at least two octaves higher-
Nichkhun felt his face heat up as he realized exactly why his voice had sounded so much higher than it did now. Inhaling sharply, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and tried to zone in on his professor’s voice. He didn’t even know why he put in the effort, though, because Nichkhun couldn’t concentrate worth a damn.
All of his thoughts pertained to Wooyoung, and definitely not in a good way. All he could hear was Wooyoung’s (two octaves higher) voice moaning things like yes, oh God, Nichkhun, I’m almost-I’m gonna-!
Nichkhun pushed his pencil down so hard the tip broke. He be damned he was getting turned on in the middle of class, and by a guy who was sitting right next to him, no less. What the fuck was happening? This was inappropriate on so many levels he didn’t even want to think about it.
But Nichkhun didn’t seem to be getting what he wanted lately.
He continued to take little peeks at Wooyoung until he thought he had developed some sort of paralysis in his neck and decided it would be easier just to straight up stare at the other boy. Maybe if he looked at him enough he could get Wooyoung out of his system. He thought he was too busy to notice, especially since Wooyoung was absorbed in a notebook scribbling down notes and he hadn’t looked over once.
“You know,” Wooyoung muttered as he continued to bullet point the lecture, “It’s kind of creepy that you keep staring at me.”
Nichkhun’s ears turned red and he directed his eyes toward his blank paper in replacement of Wooyoung’s face. He sputtered out an apology in embarrassment and stumbled over his words as he said, “I-I just thought you looked familiar…or s-something.”
Wooyoung stopped writing long enough to look at Nichkhun’s bright red ears, bite his lip to keep from laughing, and shrug even though he knew Nichkhun wasn’t looking.
“Maybe, I’m a Fine Arts major so you may have seen me dance at a function.” Wooyoung responded casually.
A light bulb went off in Nichkhun’s head and he looked up at Wooyoung in surprise. If he was a dancer, then that meant…
“Do you know, Park Jaebeom?” Nichkhun asked curiously.
Wooyoung’s head snapped up and his eyes widened in shock. As Wooyoung gaped at him, Nichkhun stared back in confusion, completely lost as to why Wooyoung was looking at him as if he had said something sacrilegious. In his confusion, he forgot to be embarrassed.
“Of course I know Jaebeom,” Wooyoung said as he ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “He’s like-the god of the Dance Department!”
“Oh.” Nichkhun was taken aback by Wooyoung’s sudden outburst and didn’t know how else to respond. He was starting to get self-conscious again, but for a different reason this time.
Wooyoung continued to gaze at Nichkhun in astonishment, and Nichkhun couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something as he stared back. It was if he was totally missing the gravity of the situation, but it wasn’t that big of a deal in the first place. At least not to Nichkhun, anyway.
He felt like a loser when Wooyoung turned back to his notes shaking his head. He lived with Jaebeom and he didn’t know that he was the best thing since sliced bread, apparently. Nichkhun slid down in his seat and ducked his head.
This class couldn’t end any faster.
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