complete and w(hole).
complete and w(hole).❚BEAST - several pairings (2jun, dooseob, junseung, kiseung, kiwoon, dongseob)❚pg or shit like that❚unbeta'd and stuff❚the effect of having less than 3 hours of sleep. also, i lied- these are way longer than drabbles.
sans soleil / sunless
(2jun)
Doojoon drags a chair over to the table Junhyung sits at and dumps his bag on the table loudly- Junhyung looks up in surprise. The librarian looks over her shoulder a few aisles down, eagle-sharp eyes sending glares in Doojoon's direction. The brunette merely shrugs off the feeling of being glared at, and says to the blonde sitting across him, "Hey you, we need to talk." To which the reply is a slow, reluctant nod.
At this, Doojoon sighs and tugs at his school tie uncomfortably. "Do you not want to be friends with me? I mean, I'm sorry if I scared you with my sudden confession the day before, but you could have responded. You should have responded even if you don't like me."
Junhyung is quiet, shaky fingers fumbling with the edges of yellowing paper in his book, a sort of stuttering language on its own. Doojoon knows that the boy has always kept to himself, been fairly quiet when it comes to people but he's seen him smiling and laughing with another boy before.
He was standing at the window of his dusty classroom, looking down at the field next door and there they were, two figures tucked away comfortably under the shade of an old tree. That was probably the first and only time he'd seen Junhyung smile or laugh. Other days he'd be sitting in the library alone, slumped against the bookshelves lifelessly, like an abandoned doll. That's when he knew that with Junhyung, silence spoke louder than words.
The public library is their only meeting-place, because they're from different schools. They share a table, they share a good read, they share a notepad and pen which they use to write messy notes to each other. They never spoke a word to each other when they had the language of ink-smudged paper and smiling eyes.
But when Doojoon suddenly wrote his feelings into their notepad one day (he'd been interested in the other before they even met), Junhyung stopped responding and kept quiet completely. Once Doojoon's inbox would be filled with new replies from Junhyung, now there are only stagnant memories trapped beneath the scratched glass of his phone.
Silence stretches over the air that they breathe like a second skin, cold and uncomfortable. Yet Doojoon is used to it, with Junhyung around it's always like this, but this time there is a certain strain to the quiet. Words are struggling to break through the surface of this tension, but Junhyung's lips are still sealed.
"... I'm leaving. You don't want to talk to me anyway." Doojoon finally breathes, snatches his bag off the table and gets up. When he kicks the leg of Junhyung's chair hard, it isn't accidental.
In Junhyung's trembling fist, there is a small note, shriveled and crushed like their hearts.
I never told you this, but I can't talk. I'm sorry, please don't leave me.
suicide
(junseung)
When they found Hyunseung's body, it was already stiff and cold as ice in the bathtub. It wasn't your typical horror-flick scene in which the victim is seen laid in a pool of their own blood, with shattered glass all over the floor and bloody words smudged on mirrors. It was a clean death- the tiled floor in front of the bathtub was dry, there were no traces of blood except for the thick, vertical red line cut on Hyunseung's forearm.
Everything else was in place, almost as if somebody carefully re-arranged the bottles of mouthwash, shampoo, body soap, everything. Who could have done it? It was pretty obvious by the looks of it, there was no one else other than Hyunseung himself who could have so meticulously planned this scene. It was also quite obvious that he committed suicide, any idiot could tell you that.
So when his parents wept and pounded at their chests for the never-ending heartache to go away, Hyunseung sighed and watched by his own framed photograph. There was no use in crying alongside his parents for his own death now, but seeing them like this was making him regret.
"I'm sorry for being such a stupid, unfilial, unworthy son."
Soon after, they started leaving with his coffin, grieving family members and friends following behind, their cries echoing before fading off into the distance. Just as Hyunseung was about to go after them, he felt a tight grip on his shoulder. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"Time to get a move on, Jang Hyunseung." The figure was dressed in a sleek, black suit, his ash-blond hair contrasting sharply with what he wore. Hyunseung tried to shrug his hand off and make a run for it, but he forgot who he was dealing with.
After sprinting for a few meters, he still felt the cold, bony hand on his shoulder. He turned around, eyes widening in fear when he saw the blonde standing in the same position he had left him in, one hand from his left arm missing. Swallowing thickly, Hyunseung tilted his head and saw the missing hand, perched upon his shoulder like a bird with painfully sharp claws that dug into his flesh.
"You should know better than to trick Death," The black figure said, raising an eyebrow. "Also, I want my hand back, please."
Run
(dooseob)
Yoseob remembers the time he ran away from home and met this boy who was taller than him. He only remembers that he was much taller than he was, wore a muddy soccer jersey and was dribbling an equally muddy soccer ball around in the nearby park.
He doesn't remember the boy's name, and strangely, he can't remember why he even ran away in the first place.
It was evening, and the sky was on fire, he recalls. It painted everything in warm hues of red, gold, orange, and how warm and inviting they looked. The leaves of balding trees were dripping with red sunlight, and the park benches that were once grey and dull looked like they were given a new paint job. And then there was the tall, slim figure that appeared in front of him when he had been trying to catch his breath from all that running he did.
"... 45, 46, 47..." He was counting, eyes fixed on the soccer ball he was dribbling. Yoseob wondered what he was doing there alone, but thought better to leave him alone.
"52... ah!"
Perhaps it had been a slip of the foot on the boy's part that sent the soccer ball flying towards Yoseob and subsequently hit him on the head (hard), but Yoseob remembers getting off the floor, dusting dirt and embarrassment off himself before running out of the park. There were shouts coming from behind him, but they were muffled by the sound of wind whistling and rushing past his ears. He could make out a name, though it was faint and unclear. It sounded something like... Yeon Doojoon?
When they meet again, the boy recognises Yoseob first, and calls him 'that blond boy'.
"You're the boy who's way taller than me," Yoseob blurts out, and immediately wishes that he could crawl into a hole and hide there forever. Yoon Doojoon (that is his real name, Yoseob learns) merely laughs it off, before putting on a serious look and apologising for unintentionally injuring Yoseob before. The latter merely laughs it off and gives him a friendly pat on the back.
Time passes and they become close friends, sharing laughter and tears under the pink evening skies.
"Hey, why does the sun seem to follow me everywhere I go?"
"Because like me," Yoseob pauses (perhaps for effect) and grins. "It wants to be wherever you are."
jigsaw puzzle
(dongseob)
This is a jigsaw puzzle of my heart, and I give you everything except for one tiny piece that I keep for myself. I give it to you not as a whole picture, but as tiny fragments of my love; given to you piece by piece, until you can put them together and form the picture of love. In my sweaty, trembling palm I hold the last piece that you need. Will I give it to you? You know I can't deny you.
-
"I want to know what's on your mind, maknae." The visual maknae confronts the real maknae one day in their bedroom, arms folded neatly across his chest while he stares down at Dongwoon. The taller brunette lies on the floor with pieces of a jigsaw puzzle spread across him. "Not now, hyung," He mumbles, waving a piece of puzzle around. "I'm busy."
Yoseob maintains his posture for a minute, eyes stern and narrowed before he gives up and sighs. "Here, I'll help you. Move over a bit." Dongwoon complies gladly and gives the other a silly grin before returning to his work at hand.
"You really are a mystery sometimes, Dongwoon-ah." Yoseob puts a piece of green together with another piece of green, and they fit.
"Mm? How so, hyung?" A piece of blue with another piece of blue- a perfect match. Dongwoon puts them carefully on the floor, along an imaginary frame.
"Well," Yoseob arranges a few more tessellating pieces till they form up part of the whole picture. "Sometimes you open up to us, to me, about your feelings and thoughts, when other times you would keep to yourself completely, and it seems as if you are two different people at the same time."
Dongwoon doesn't reply, he pushes half of the remaining puzzle pieces towards Yoseob. "You can be unpredictable at times, just like the weather. And though I can be quite accurate at guessing your thoughts and emotions of the day like the weather forecast, there is always a huge probability that I'm wrong." The elder of the two continues, frowning when he gets two pieces of the puzzle wrong.
The maknae continues piecing together the puzzle with Yoseob in silence, until they finally form a picture of a house. Yoseob sighs with relief, expecting to hear a reply from Dongwoon, only to see the maknae smiling down at their finished work with wordless joy.
"Are you going to answer me? At least say a few words."
"The fact that you don't understand me completely is what matters, hyung." Dongwoon says. He takes away one central piece of the completed puzzle, and holds it in his palm. "This puzzle piece doesn't need to understand the whole picture to fit right into the heart of the picture, does it?"
Yoseob blinks at Dongwoon's dazzling smile. Slowly, he wraps his arms around the maknae's broad shoulders and just leans in close, their bodies fitting into each other like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Will I give this last piece to you? You know I can't deny you.
cartography
(kiseung)
Moonlight seeps through the windows and colours the sleeping figures pale white. On nights like these, Kikwang would stay awake and watch as the moon licks the skin of Hyunseung's unmoving body, the only signs of life being the occasional sigh or snore coming from him. Under the light, Hyunseung's exposed skin reminds Kikwang of fresh milk in the bright mornings, sun-soaked cream on strawberries in the lazy afternoons.
Tracing meaningless shapes and words on Hyunseung's bare arm with his finger, Kikwang smiles. The other is sleeping like a log, so he barely reacts to Kikwang's gentle touches.
He walks two fingers up Hyunseung's shoulder, imagining that they were a pair of legs, somebody's legs (perhaps his own) travelling up the steep slopes of Mt. Hyunseung. A very strange mountain indeed, Kikwang thinks to himself, chuckling quietly, mountains with such smooth slopes are hard to find, in fact they don't even exist, do they?
Kikwang comes to the curve of Hyunseng's neck, and continues tracing his bones, fingers gliding across the base of his neck- he rests in the tiny valley between Hyunseung's collar bones. The blonde stirs in his sleep, but only slightly, so Kikwang keeps his fingers where they are, and continues with his imaginary journey.
His fingers linger at the slight protrusion of Hyunseung's Adam's apple and caress his jawline. Kikwang shifts closer, leans in and breathes onto the other's neck. He places a light kiss along the soft lines of Hyunseung's jaw. The latter groans in his sleep, then opens his eyes to find a familiar figure tucked into his side snugly.
"What are you... doing...?" His words slur and he yawns.
"Travelling." Kikwang says, looking slightly embarrassed before adding, with a cheeky grin: "With my mouth."
Hyunseung blinks blearily before mirroring Kikwang's grin.
"You're not continuing your little journey, unless you let me do a bit of my own travelling too."
"You're going to take forever," Kikwang laughs into Hyunseung's arm. "My muscles are not to be messed with."
soleil / sun
(kiwoon)
It began with a white lie. He told Dongwoon that he was a creature of the night, only because Dongwoon worked well past midnights at bars after school.
"I'm nocturnal," He said with a bright smile. "I can do without sleep."
Dongwoon was cleaning a wine glass and listening to Kikwang talk at the same time, which was proving to be a difficult task when the wine glass needed to be completely spotless (otherwise he would risk getting a pay cut), so he responded with a somewhat dismissive hum. Kikwang frowned.
"People who can do without sleep shouldn't sleep then." The bartender next to Dongwoon said. Kikwang's frown deepened. He took a quick glance at the other bartender's nametag: 'Junhyung'.
"Well, you look like you really need it, Junhyung."
Dongwoon nearly choked on his laughter when he saw the blonde's expression at Kikwang's words. Mumbling what sounded like a string of curses under his breath, Junhyung moved away to serve another customer who looked drunk off his ass.
"What time do you get off work?" Kikwang asked, hoping that he could have some time with Dongwoon. Maybe they could talk over steaming cups of coffee or something. The younger boy looked up briefly before returning to the glasses.
"After you leave." He replied, eyes twinkling with slight amusement.
Kikwang was rendered speechless for the first time that night.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, downed the rest of his mocktail, paid and said a quick 'goodbye' to Dongwoon. Kikwang strode past a struggling Junhyung (the customer was latching onto his arm and threatening to kill himself if Junhyung didn't stay or something along the lines of that, he didn't stop to listen) and fled the bar.
Sunlight was beginning to cover everything in sight. Kikwang groaned, running a hand through his hair as he curled up in bed. It was already the start of a new day, and he was sure that he had barely enough sleep to get him through it. It was all Dongwoon's fault, he sighed. Convincing him that he was nocturnal didn't work, obviously, and here he was, suffering the consequences of his own work.
Loud rapping on the wood of his front door woke him up instantly. Kikwang fumbled for his oversized spectacles, smoothened his hair out a little before rushing to the door and throwing it open.
Dongwoon stood in front of him, holding a plastic bag. Kikwang made sure he wasn't dreaming.
"H-Hi... ? How can I help you?" He was trying to calm down and contain his joy. Dongwoon just thought he was nervous.
"You left something behind," The younger boy explained and held out the plastic bag. Kikwang took it and wondered how he never noticed the other's intimidating height before.
"T-Thanks," He glared at his toes, willing himself to stop stuttering. "...Wait, how did you find me?"
Dongwoon shrugged. "You gave me your namecard once."
Kikwang nodded, right, how could I have forgotten? He bowed and thanked Dongwoon once again, reluctantly seeing him off at the door. After he closed the door, he immediately went into a fit of mad laughter and uncontrollable giggles. He opened the plastic bag, reached into it and found only a piece of paper. It read:
Let's meet under the sun instead.
Fool.
- Son Dongwoon
There was a line of numbers at the bottom, which Kikwang assumed was Dongwoon's phone number.
He never felt so happy being called a fool before.
I'm running low on sleep, so sorry if this turned out to be a complete mess. ><
Also, 2JUN ANGST FINALLY!
sans soleil / sunless
(2jun)
Doojoon drags a chair over to the table Junhyung sits at and dumps his bag on the table loudly- Junhyung looks up in surprise. The librarian looks over her shoulder a few aisles down, eagle-sharp eyes sending glares in Doojoon's direction. The brunette merely shrugs off the feeling of being glared at, and says to the blonde sitting across him, "Hey you, we need to talk." To which the reply is a slow, reluctant nod.
At this, Doojoon sighs and tugs at his school tie uncomfortably. "Do you not want to be friends with me? I mean, I'm sorry if I scared you with my sudden confession the day before, but you could have responded. You should have responded even if you don't like me."
Junhyung is quiet, shaky fingers fumbling with the edges of yellowing paper in his book, a sort of stuttering language on its own. Doojoon knows that the boy has always kept to himself, been fairly quiet when it comes to people but he's seen him smiling and laughing with another boy before.
He was standing at the window of his dusty classroom, looking down at the field next door and there they were, two figures tucked away comfortably under the shade of an old tree. That was probably the first and only time he'd seen Junhyung smile or laugh. Other days he'd be sitting in the library alone, slumped against the bookshelves lifelessly, like an abandoned doll. That's when he knew that with Junhyung, silence spoke louder than words.
The public library is their only meeting-place, because they're from different schools. They share a table, they share a good read, they share a notepad and pen which they use to write messy notes to each other. They never spoke a word to each other when they had the language of ink-smudged paper and smiling eyes.
But when Doojoon suddenly wrote his feelings into their notepad one day (he'd been interested in the other before they even met), Junhyung stopped responding and kept quiet completely. Once Doojoon's inbox would be filled with new replies from Junhyung, now there are only stagnant memories trapped beneath the scratched glass of his phone.
Silence stretches over the air that they breathe like a second skin, cold and uncomfortable. Yet Doojoon is used to it, with Junhyung around it's always like this, but this time there is a certain strain to the quiet. Words are struggling to break through the surface of this tension, but Junhyung's lips are still sealed.
"... I'm leaving. You don't want to talk to me anyway." Doojoon finally breathes, snatches his bag off the table and gets up. When he kicks the leg of Junhyung's chair hard, it isn't accidental.
In Junhyung's trembling fist, there is a small note, shriveled and crushed like their hearts.
I never told you this, but I can't talk. I'm sorry, please don't leave me.
suicide
(junseung)
When they found Hyunseung's body, it was already stiff and cold as ice in the bathtub. It wasn't your typical horror-flick scene in which the victim is seen laid in a pool of their own blood, with shattered glass all over the floor and bloody words smudged on mirrors. It was a clean death- the tiled floor in front of the bathtub was dry, there were no traces of blood except for the thick, vertical red line cut on Hyunseung's forearm.
Everything else was in place, almost as if somebody carefully re-arranged the bottles of mouthwash, shampoo, body soap, everything. Who could have done it? It was pretty obvious by the looks of it, there was no one else other than Hyunseung himself who could have so meticulously planned this scene. It was also quite obvious that he committed suicide, any idiot could tell you that.
So when his parents wept and pounded at their chests for the never-ending heartache to go away, Hyunseung sighed and watched by his own framed photograph. There was no use in crying alongside his parents for his own death now, but seeing them like this was making him regret.
"I'm sorry for being such a stupid, unfilial, unworthy son."
Soon after, they started leaving with his coffin, grieving family members and friends following behind, their cries echoing before fading off into the distance. Just as Hyunseung was about to go after them, he felt a tight grip on his shoulder. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"Time to get a move on, Jang Hyunseung." The figure was dressed in a sleek, black suit, his ash-blond hair contrasting sharply with what he wore. Hyunseung tried to shrug his hand off and make a run for it, but he forgot who he was dealing with.
After sprinting for a few meters, he still felt the cold, bony hand on his shoulder. He turned around, eyes widening in fear when he saw the blonde standing in the same position he had left him in, one hand from his left arm missing. Swallowing thickly, Hyunseung tilted his head and saw the missing hand, perched upon his shoulder like a bird with painfully sharp claws that dug into his flesh.
"You should know better than to trick Death," The black figure said, raising an eyebrow. "Also, I want my hand back, please."
Run
(dooseob)
Yoseob remembers the time he ran away from home and met this boy who was taller than him. He only remembers that he was much taller than he was, wore a muddy soccer jersey and was dribbling an equally muddy soccer ball around in the nearby park.
He doesn't remember the boy's name, and strangely, he can't remember why he even ran away in the first place.
It was evening, and the sky was on fire, he recalls. It painted everything in warm hues of red, gold, orange, and how warm and inviting they looked. The leaves of balding trees were dripping with red sunlight, and the park benches that were once grey and dull looked like they were given a new paint job. And then there was the tall, slim figure that appeared in front of him when he had been trying to catch his breath from all that running he did.
"... 45, 46, 47..." He was counting, eyes fixed on the soccer ball he was dribbling. Yoseob wondered what he was doing there alone, but thought better to leave him alone.
"52... ah!"
Perhaps it had been a slip of the foot on the boy's part that sent the soccer ball flying towards Yoseob and subsequently hit him on the head (hard), but Yoseob remembers getting off the floor, dusting dirt and embarrassment off himself before running out of the park. There were shouts coming from behind him, but they were muffled by the sound of wind whistling and rushing past his ears. He could make out a name, though it was faint and unclear. It sounded something like... Yeon Doojoon?
When they meet again, the boy recognises Yoseob first, and calls him 'that blond boy'.
"You're the boy who's way taller than me," Yoseob blurts out, and immediately wishes that he could crawl into a hole and hide there forever. Yoon Doojoon (that is his real name, Yoseob learns) merely laughs it off, before putting on a serious look and apologising for unintentionally injuring Yoseob before. The latter merely laughs it off and gives him a friendly pat on the back.
Time passes and they become close friends, sharing laughter and tears under the pink evening skies.
"Hey, why does the sun seem to follow me everywhere I go?"
"Because like me," Yoseob pauses (perhaps for effect) and grins. "It wants to be wherever you are."
jigsaw puzzle
(dongseob)
This is a jigsaw puzzle of my heart, and I give you everything except for one tiny piece that I keep for myself. I give it to you not as a whole picture, but as tiny fragments of my love; given to you piece by piece, until you can put them together and form the picture of love. In my sweaty, trembling palm I hold the last piece that you need. Will I give it to you? You know I can't deny you.
-
"I want to know what's on your mind, maknae." The visual maknae confronts the real maknae one day in their bedroom, arms folded neatly across his chest while he stares down at Dongwoon. The taller brunette lies on the floor with pieces of a jigsaw puzzle spread across him. "Not now, hyung," He mumbles, waving a piece of puzzle around. "I'm busy."
Yoseob maintains his posture for a minute, eyes stern and narrowed before he gives up and sighs. "Here, I'll help you. Move over a bit." Dongwoon complies gladly and gives the other a silly grin before returning to his work at hand.
"You really are a mystery sometimes, Dongwoon-ah." Yoseob puts a piece of green together with another piece of green, and they fit.
"Mm? How so, hyung?" A piece of blue with another piece of blue- a perfect match. Dongwoon puts them carefully on the floor, along an imaginary frame.
"Well," Yoseob arranges a few more tessellating pieces till they form up part of the whole picture. "Sometimes you open up to us, to me, about your feelings and thoughts, when other times you would keep to yourself completely, and it seems as if you are two different people at the same time."
Dongwoon doesn't reply, he pushes half of the remaining puzzle pieces towards Yoseob. "You can be unpredictable at times, just like the weather. And though I can be quite accurate at guessing your thoughts and emotions of the day like the weather forecast, there is always a huge probability that I'm wrong." The elder of the two continues, frowning when he gets two pieces of the puzzle wrong.
The maknae continues piecing together the puzzle with Yoseob in silence, until they finally form a picture of a house. Yoseob sighs with relief, expecting to hear a reply from Dongwoon, only to see the maknae smiling down at their finished work with wordless joy.
"Are you going to answer me? At least say a few words."
"The fact that you don't understand me completely is what matters, hyung." Dongwoon says. He takes away one central piece of the completed puzzle, and holds it in his palm. "This puzzle piece doesn't need to understand the whole picture to fit right into the heart of the picture, does it?"
Yoseob blinks at Dongwoon's dazzling smile. Slowly, he wraps his arms around the maknae's broad shoulders and just leans in close, their bodies fitting into each other like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Will I give this last piece to you? You know I can't deny you.
cartography
(kiseung)
Moonlight seeps through the windows and colours the sleeping figures pale white. On nights like these, Kikwang would stay awake and watch as the moon licks the skin of Hyunseung's unmoving body, the only signs of life being the occasional sigh or snore coming from him. Under the light, Hyunseung's exposed skin reminds Kikwang of fresh milk in the bright mornings, sun-soaked cream on strawberries in the lazy afternoons.
Tracing meaningless shapes and words on Hyunseung's bare arm with his finger, Kikwang smiles. The other is sleeping like a log, so he barely reacts to Kikwang's gentle touches.
He walks two fingers up Hyunseung's shoulder, imagining that they were a pair of legs, somebody's legs (perhaps his own) travelling up the steep slopes of Mt. Hyunseung. A very strange mountain indeed, Kikwang thinks to himself, chuckling quietly, mountains with such smooth slopes are hard to find, in fact they don't even exist, do they?
Kikwang comes to the curve of Hyunseng's neck, and continues tracing his bones, fingers gliding across the base of his neck- he rests in the tiny valley between Hyunseung's collar bones. The blonde stirs in his sleep, but only slightly, so Kikwang keeps his fingers where they are, and continues with his imaginary journey.
His fingers linger at the slight protrusion of Hyunseung's Adam's apple and caress his jawline. Kikwang shifts closer, leans in and breathes onto the other's neck. He places a light kiss along the soft lines of Hyunseung's jaw. The latter groans in his sleep, then opens his eyes to find a familiar figure tucked into his side snugly.
"What are you... doing...?" His words slur and he yawns.
"Travelling." Kikwang says, looking slightly embarrassed before adding, with a cheeky grin: "With my mouth."
Hyunseung blinks blearily before mirroring Kikwang's grin.
"You're not continuing your little journey, unless you let me do a bit of my own travelling too."
"You're going to take forever," Kikwang laughs into Hyunseung's arm. "My muscles are not to be messed with."
soleil / sun
(kiwoon)
It began with a white lie. He told Dongwoon that he was a creature of the night, only because Dongwoon worked well past midnights at bars after school.
"I'm nocturnal," He said with a bright smile. "I can do without sleep."
Dongwoon was cleaning a wine glass and listening to Kikwang talk at the same time, which was proving to be a difficult task when the wine glass needed to be completely spotless (otherwise he would risk getting a pay cut), so he responded with a somewhat dismissive hum. Kikwang frowned.
"People who can do without sleep shouldn't sleep then." The bartender next to Dongwoon said. Kikwang's frown deepened. He took a quick glance at the other bartender's nametag: 'Junhyung'.
"Well, you look like you really need it, Junhyung."
Dongwoon nearly choked on his laughter when he saw the blonde's expression at Kikwang's words. Mumbling what sounded like a string of curses under his breath, Junhyung moved away to serve another customer who looked drunk off his ass.
"What time do you get off work?" Kikwang asked, hoping that he could have some time with Dongwoon. Maybe they could talk over steaming cups of coffee or something. The younger boy looked up briefly before returning to the glasses.
"After you leave." He replied, eyes twinkling with slight amusement.
Kikwang was rendered speechless for the first time that night.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, downed the rest of his mocktail, paid and said a quick 'goodbye' to Dongwoon. Kikwang strode past a struggling Junhyung (the customer was latching onto his arm and threatening to kill himself if Junhyung didn't stay or something along the lines of that, he didn't stop to listen) and fled the bar.
Sunlight was beginning to cover everything in sight. Kikwang groaned, running a hand through his hair as he curled up in bed. It was already the start of a new day, and he was sure that he had barely enough sleep to get him through it. It was all Dongwoon's fault, he sighed. Convincing him that he was nocturnal didn't work, obviously, and here he was, suffering the consequences of his own work.
Loud rapping on the wood of his front door woke him up instantly. Kikwang fumbled for his oversized spectacles, smoothened his hair out a little before rushing to the door and throwing it open.
Dongwoon stood in front of him, holding a plastic bag. Kikwang made sure he wasn't dreaming.
"H-Hi... ? How can I help you?" He was trying to calm down and contain his joy. Dongwoon just thought he was nervous.
"You left something behind," The younger boy explained and held out the plastic bag. Kikwang took it and wondered how he never noticed the other's intimidating height before.
"T-Thanks," He glared at his toes, willing himself to stop stuttering. "...Wait, how did you find me?"
Dongwoon shrugged. "You gave me your namecard once."
Kikwang nodded, right, how could I have forgotten? He bowed and thanked Dongwoon once again, reluctantly seeing him off at the door. After he closed the door, he immediately went into a fit of mad laughter and uncontrollable giggles. He opened the plastic bag, reached into it and found only a piece of paper. It read:
Let's meet under the sun instead.
Fool.
- Son Dongwoon
There was a line of numbers at the bottom, which Kikwang assumed was Dongwoon's phone number.
He never felt so happy being called a fool before.
I'm running low on sleep, so sorry if this turned out to be a complete mess. ><
Also, 2JUN ANGST FINALLY!