* first dates

 [ ... ]

“and now that you got me, what do you plan to do with me?” jinwoo asks, curious. he can imagine uisoo has in mind a nice date at the concert after dinner, a couple of kisses and that’s it. he imagines uisoo as the romantic type if those texts they exchanged can prove anything. he gives uisoo a smirk, eyes in a tease as he stares at the older boy.

there’s the immediate taste of wanting to caution jinwoo, wanting to express that he’s not nervous and how if he was, he had good reasons to be. but there were few good reasons for why he was so on edge whenever he thought someone was looking their way. the time it took for him to begin to strain for one he was take off guard by the confession from jinwoo. lashes fluttered, brown orbs looking to jinwoo in shock and unable to stop the bashful, boyish curve on his lips. “i’m not handsome. i’m attractive enough that it’s okay to look at,” he corrects out of habit.

it was the thrum of his heart, the pace of the beat so fast that it’s too light and he can barely feel it tremble against the inside of his chest. jinwoo complimenting him was different, was exciting and embarrassing. uisoo liked it. even if his fingers nervous scratched at the edge of the napkin on the table.

a soft chuckle exhaled when jinwoo’s question sounds more like a dare to him, prompting uisoo to realise how childish his answer would sound to jinwoo. how he wanted to hold his hand, sling his arm over his shoulder, wrap one around his waist, pull him in, whisper against his ear and nuzzle into his neck. such innocent affections that he had and he was embarrassed by them as he glanced over at jinwoo. 

he wanted to kiss him too. sweetly, softly. touching his cheek, his hand, his waist. 

uisoo averts his gaze at the thoughts, pressing his toes into the floor and shrugging his shoulders instead. “i don’t know,” he answers, “i didn’t plan that far ahead”. his eyes flicker back across to jinwoo, remembering how concerned he had been about whether the younger would change his mind and not turn up. his teeth nip at the inside of his own lip. the chance that he might not be having this conversation prompts him to answer honestly.

“maybe. kiss?” the nineteen year old suggestions, slightly blushed and avoiding meeting jinwoos gaze. “getting to hold you... or hold your hand... maybe.. spend some more kissing.” it’s difficult to hide how shy he was over the matter, voice softer and not quite able to vocalise himself confidently.

( text - uisoo ) right, attentive ( text - uisoo ) yes you are :))))) ( text - uisoo ) is this your way of telling me you want to meet em tonight? ( text - uisoo ) come to my dorm then

( outgoing. j ♥ ) very attentive.  ( outgoing. j ♥ ) no, you’re the cute one. no one has thought i was cute since i was five. ( outgoing. j ♥ ) it might be. would it be okay to want to meet you tonight? ( outgoing. j ♥ ) i’ll come once everyone else has gone to sleep. or gone out. ( outgoing. j ♥ ) we wasted out chances on vacation to sleep together easily. ( outgoing. j ♥ ) sneaking around is difficult.

( text - uisoo ) you’re so obsessed with me ( text - uisoo ) it’s cute ( text - uisoo ) you should try it someday, i think it would look good

( outgoing. j ♥ ) i’m not obsessed. i’m attentive. ( outgoing. j ♥ ) and i’m not cute. ( outgoing. j ♥ ) you should do it for me, i wouldn’t know how to. ( outgoing. j ♥ ) maybe tonight, you can try it on me.

* psycho-babble

[ ... ]

“i don’t know” he says nonchalantly with a sigh, lifting his other foot onto the toilet seat cover. “anything. fuck. as long as you don’t bore me to death like my last client did” he rolls his eyes comically, even though the cheong ryong was on the other side of the bathroom stall. “entertain me. make it up. tell me you killed a man or something deep and dark, i’m in need of new material for my shrink.” he laughs, looking over at the blank wall. the thought of painfully studios and filial son hwang uisoo doing anything out of the norm is a funny thought, he reckons.

it’s pertinent not to encourage jiyong’s behaviour and that’s why uisoo stifles the chuckle at the smart comments that the younger boy returns with. no matter how mad uisoo got, how much he told jiyong not to do something, that they would get in trouble, the kid--and uisoo liked to label him a kid because there was nothing else that fit jiyong--had a way of making him laugh; in anger, in pure disbelief, in the crazy end of his wits, surrender. but he knows there’s a truth in there. ‘i care’. it was the same for uisoo who badgered and nagged and crossed his arms to show he cared back. that’s how their friendship was. a heavy sigh filled the air, collapsed down in the small space as he listens to jiyong through the wall. “don’t curse,” he cuts in when he hears the younger lay one out in the middle of a sentence.

the option to make something up leaves hwang uisoo at a blank. he was never a creative type. when he was asked to write a story in class, he wrote an essay about aristotle instead. facts and the truth were easier for him; they always had been. “i don’t know,” he returns, wasting time as he tries to think up something. he knows the longer he’s in there, the more likely someone is to linger around and find out that pristine hwang uisoo was not as pristine as he played himself to be. that’s why he went with a truth, a half truth. “how about something cliche .. like.. you have a crush on someone and they hate you. with a passion,” uisoo thinks momentarily on jinwoo, on how much their fellow student could hate him. his hands shoved into his pockets as he turns his head, glancing at the wall between them. “make them a boy. globally, it’s the big topic now. sexuality.” he coughs up a weak laugh and shakes his head; pulse in his fingertips at how nervous he was. “what’s right and what’s wrong. it’s believable. personal. and they can’t prove you’re lying about it.”

( text - uisoo ) how so? ( text - uisoo ) i don’t know ( text - uisoo ) i think you would look hot with your hair styled up

( outgoing. j ♥ ) i don’t know. your hair falls different, and your expressions are warmer. ( outgoing. j ♥ ) maybe im getting sick. ( outgoing. j ♥ ) i don’t know. i’ve never done anything with my hair. 

* first dates

[ ... ] 

“you are really anxious to be alone with me, aren’t you?” jinwoo is interrupted by the waiter, and once their orders are taken he looks at uisoo, expecting an answer. “just like at the beach, five minutes into this dating thing and already dragging me to make out.” jinwoo sighs, a hand brushing over his hair. “you’re secretly really nasty, uisoo-ah.”

the impulse to disagree rises up in uisoo. he had tried hard to appear more fashionable in front of jinwoo for their first date and it had failed by the response. he mentally noted to simply wear what he usually wears next time. something that he consciously plans to not note in the notebook jinwoo had just gifted him; he doubts that that was what it was for. instead, he glanced over it, thinking that he would find something more appropriate to fill it with. his gaze darted across at jinwoo, hearing him so effortless proclaim to hold the spot of most importance in uisoos life as if this was natural for him to do so. a breath of a chuckle scoffed up as he shakes his head in disbelief. “do you think i’m one to forget, jinwoo-ah?”

once the waiter is called, uisoo finds tension in his shoulders as he straightens up and averts his gaze, straightening up the pieces on the table. “it’s...” he trails off when jinwoo mentions his taste in music and he tries not to smile too wide realizing that the younger remembered the text messages; listened to the songs he sent him. “it’s a small one. a couple of indie bands. chamsom and some like that,” he answers with a shrug of his shoulders, confident in his tastes and that the evening would be a nice one.

there’s a twitch at the tips of uisoo’s fingers when jinwoo mentions being anxious to get him alone, and his cheeks heat just in time for him to look up at the waiter in a tense, blushed state. nothing could have been worse than the race of his heart as he tried to order as calmly and smoothly as possible. unable to believe how jinwoo could be so naturally casual about such things when others could see and overhear.

“it wasn’t like-- ah, really, jinwoo,” his voice is rattled, minutely defensive, as he glances around to see if anyone might have heard them. eyes crinkled with the smile he denies and pink smudged across the peaks of his cheeks. one hand stretched out blindly, impulsively curling his fingers around jinwoo’s wrist and letting his touch slip along the edge as he leans in. “i...” uisoo sighs quietly, averting his gaze. “i’ve wanted to kiss you since the start of the year.” it’s a confession that slips out, lowering his hand and resting it on the table.

he bites the inside of his lip, glancing across at jinwoo. “and this is the first time i’ve got you to myself since jeju.”

* first dates

[ ... ]

“i am, but first,” jinwoo takes the small package he was hiding and puts it over the table, pushing it towards uisoo. “i have something for you too.” he points towards the gift, gesturing for uisoo to open it. “you said dates are a way of organizing time together, so i bought you something to organize your time.” he had seen uisoo with notebooks like that before and guessed it would be a good idea. “i even wrote down your priority on the first page.”

heera had laughed when she caught him writing it down, but jinwoo thinks it’s something uisoo would like, to show he cares - not that he cares a lot, just enough. on the first page he wrote down first priority: kim jinwoo. “so, do you like it?”

it wouldn’t have been jinwoo if he’d been bashful about the compliment--not that uisoo would take it back--but it made him more comfortable that the younger was not going to suddenly change on him. someone might have expected kim jinwoo to become a boyfriend overnight, sweeter and kinder, and uisoo didn’t. enough was changing. enough was shifting. jinwoo remaining as the jinwoo he knew allowed him some stability and offered him comfort in a moment of his life that was too foreign and new.

“i changed out of the suit and tie i wore all day,” uisoo defends, looking down at his plaid long sleeve shirt and the t-shirt. boyfriend wear. this was boyfriend wear, wasn’t it? the fact that he had had to look it up was not something he was going to tell jinwoo. his finger scratched at the knees of his jeans, may be he should have wore the ripped jeans. “this is my casual clothes.”

the shift of subject made uisoo’s gaze lift, looking across as jinwoo and down at the small package. he had honestly not seen that when jinwoo walked in. too absorbed in his thoughts, in how jinwoo looked, in how his boyfriend made his heart race. now he was left reaching over in uncertainty to lift the gift up and beginning to open it. his teeth buried in the inside of his lip as he opened to fid the notebook. identical to the ones he’d used before and preferred. his fingers ran along the edges as he glanced over at jinwoo.

“there is?” he questions, rhetorically, as he flips the first page and found himself reading the handwriting of the boy across from him. a scoffed chuckle elicited at the note; his first priority. his eyes curved, tapping his fingers over the ink and then glancing to the chocolates. suddenly they were so lacking and yet, he knew if he admitted that, jinwoo would tease him for it. “i’m assuming i have no ability to negotiate on this?”

not that he would, but he had to pull on some of the string; he could already feel himself folding to do everything that jinwoo would want from him.

“i like it. you did well,” uisoo reiterates, in case jinwoo couldn’t read between the meaning of his smile or the way his fingers trace the lines of the book once more. as if in admiration or sentiment for the new belonging. his brown orbs drift down, looking over it once more and reaching for the paper if had to been wrapped in, beginning to fold it neatly. “let’s order and eat, and we can drop this at my car before we go to the concert.”

* when it rains, it pours

[ ... ]

As he talks, he absentmindedly reaches down and start playing with some of Uisoo’s fingers, slowly running his over them, then gently tugging on them. “I’d rather be here and get a job…so then at least I can see you,” he says softly, and he’s glad that Uisoo cannot see his face because his cheeks are suddenly burning again.

if it had to be anyone, hongbin was the better choice to be honest to, wasn’t he?

such impulsive and thoughtless ideas swarm through uisoo’s mind as his arms are settled around the waist of the naked boy in front him. when they had kissed that night, hongbin had been unequivocally responsive to his action; he’d returned it and more. made noises, pressed closer, let him pull off his shirt, and his hips-- uisoo squeeze his eyes shut, trying to rid his mind of the memory in fear that his body would do something it shouldn’t. that if anything, he should have been repulsed by the events of that night. but he wanted more. he tried to relax, swallowing down as he gathers courage. his wet lashes lowered, brown eyes gazing over the younger boys shoulder, with droplets of water slipping down his arms and his chest.

hongbin’s complaints about being made to go to military camp were valid. they did have military service for two years in the future and no teenager would want to lose their vacation time. but uisoo didn’t know what else to offer besides a soft hum and a nod. to offer up ways to rebel went against how uisoo was raised and he didn’t even know how to even rebel besides not to go which wasn’t a plan so much as what a successful plan would end in. “i know,” he offers in sympathy and not much else; the guilt sticky in his chest.  as a friend, he should have had more than a two syllable acknowledgement of hongbin’s frustration and annoyance at what his father was doing. silent indecision parts and closes his lips on what to say next, when hongbin’s words wash over him.

‘so at least i can see you’.

his lashes flutter as he lifts his gaze, staring across at the tiled wall and numbly feeling the way hongbin plays with his fingers. the strangulation of his heart reminds him that he shouldn’t be letting it race, he shouldn’t be thinking what he’s thinking, he shouldn’t have hope that hongbin could be someone he could tell and he shouldn’t let himself give in. yet the press of hongbins back to his chest and the fingers grazing over his own, are comforting, tempting, soothing for the loneliness that is embedded in his chest. “i’ll be busy too. i don’t know if i would be able to even see you,” speaks the opposite to what he feels; clutching onto the reality weakly and hoping hongbin will argue against it for him instead. “internships, studying, family events. i barely have time to sleep usually.” 

the exhaustive thoughts draw his head forward, pressing his face into the crook of hongbin’s neck as he sighs from deep in his lungs. it was nice -- to hold someone, to talk about plans, to feel connected and anchored to a person outside of himself. he wanted to pretend for a moment that it was okay to be weak and to be what he prayed not to be.

towel boy.

he grumbles from where he kneels on the floor. sungil is wearing skinny jeans and he’s certainly not pleased that uisoo’s trying to break him in while sungil is looking nothing short of delectable. the elder is hot, even if he’s uptight. still, the pornographic idea that uisoo would suddenly have a change of heart and screw him senseless is nothing short of ridiculous. but oh, a boy can dream.

that, and he’s lazy, whining like the physical effort of moving into position was going to kill him. sungil struggles to do this math sitting up, with a pen and paper in hand.

he starts slowly, making sure to keep his voice steady as he does his pushups for fear of appearing like he’s taking too long. uisoo’s methods have little imagination to them, but they’re certainly frustrating in their own way. a weaker boy man would have already given up on initation, but sungil powers through.

that is, of course, till he gets to seven times twelve, faltering for just a second, before he looks up and pouts. “do i really have to do this?”

there’s a unique type of satisfaction when sungil gets down on the floor, one that has uisoo looking past his bowl of soup and studying the way the other whines in complaint, before he begins to do what hes been instructed to do. hwang uisoo liked to see his job as molding sungil into a decent human being and less about making him suffer for his own enjoyment.

he slowly eats, listening to sungil work through the times tables backwards and every so often glancing to see how well sungil was going with the push ups. the wiggle of heat in his abdomen definitely had to do more with the soup, being sick, satisfied, than the sight of sungil’s body or the noises he made when he did push ups.

uisoo focuses on the soup, getting half of the bowl down before his hunger depletes and he hears sungil falter at seven times twelve. his brown orbs unwilling to raise from the depths of the bowl as he can picture the younger male pouting at him and looking for some sort of sympathy. it seemed like the younger relished any attention he got; good or bad.

“seven times twelve is 84. start again. twelve times twelve,” he orders, not looking up or at the boy; refusing to give sungil the attention that he seemed to desire so much. “cheong ryong doesn’t accept idiots into it’s ranks.”

Oh fuck, not this, not now. Haneul has lived this hell hole long enough to learn how to differentiate his heat waves from something else. Something pretty much impossible to shrug away.

Keep reading

something is wrong. 

hwang uisoo has some ability to read the air, the awkward manner in which haneul shifts in his seat and seems to look as if he’s about to empty the contents of his stomach on the table. that’s how uisoo interpreted it at least. the lack of ability to concentrate, the sweat on his skin, how he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. the impulse to push himself further back in his chair to avoid what will happen is half-resisted, brow furrowed as he leaned back and looked at haneul.

he considers asking if haneul is okay when the younger answers his question, and within two seconds asks if he could go to the bathroom. that only pushes the idea that haneul is unwell and about to throw up or worse. a breath sighed deeply from uisoo’s chest as he nods his head. though he already reaching to collect his books. “how about we just stop for the day?” he suggests.

one book pulled towards his body, knocking a pen from the spot and letting it roll off to land on the floor. an annoyed noise elicited from the back of uisoos throat as he glances at the pen and then shakes his head.

“if you’re sick, you won’t be able to concentrate and it’ll be a waste of our time,” uisoo continues to speak as he pushes his chair out, grabbing his bag to begin tucking the books away and glancing back at haneul. “just go rest or see a doctor.” he holds back the request to be told if what the other has is contagious or not.

he leans back further in his chair, searching for when his pen went under the table. “we’ll find another time to stud-- can you see my pen?” uisoo cuts himself off, struggling to find the writing tool by himself and glancing over at haneul for help.