food related drabbles (because apparently i'm hungry)
Kimchi
Pairing: gd/top
Word Count: 632
Boys were never your type and you make this perfectly clear one night when his hand lingers a little longer than it should, and his stupid obnoxious too close grin (has he ever heard of personal space?) makes your stomach want to do back-flips.
And you think you’re disgusted by him and that he’s making you sick and it scares you more than you can handle.
So you don’t really think when you mutter a “Sorry” at him, eyes downcast, fingers trembling. You pull away, dashing out of his room and into yours so fast that you never notice how his smile falters, or how your ears turn red.
It takes you hours to fall asleep, head burrowed under a mountain of cushions, body spooning the giant stuffed bunny he got you a few birthdays ago (you try to forget that little fact). He’s just a wall away, just a couple feet, and your mind is running through all the ‘what if’s.
What if he can hear you? What if he’s heartbroken? Annoyed? Pissed? What if he thinks you’re pathetic? Stupid? An idiot? You are. What if you had let him kiss you? What’s the worse that could have happened?
You hug your bunny tighter, because in the end, you know the answers to nothing. Nothing.
And you try to shoo away that little voice in your head that’s telling you to try and imagine hugging him.
* * * * * * * * * *
“I just…don’t like you…or just guys…like that, you know?” The words fumble out of your mouth and you kind of want to kick yourself with how dumb you sound.
Daesung’s out filming for Family Outing, and Youngbae’s already at the studio, and Seungri’s still sleeping (of course) after coming home from only god knows where at 4 in the morning. And of course, of course, you have to wake up when he does, and be in the kitchen when he is, and drink the coffee he hands you wordlessly because you’re both fucking dead without your caffeine fixes.
And the silence is so palpable, you could slice right through it. Maybe cut it into nice little pieces, put them on a pretty plate and feed them to Gaho-no, to Boss. (fuck Gaho). And when you stir your coffee, the metal spoon clanking against the ceramic inside, it becomes the loudest noise in the entire kitchen. It’s practically echoing with how goddamn quiet it is-
“…’s no problem, don’t worry about it.”
Jiyong mumbles over a spoonful of rice. He flashes you a dashing smile, tries to convey it’s okay with wrinkled eyes and white teeth, and pushes the bowl of kimchi towards your plate for extra measure.
You don’t buy it one bit, but that doesn’t stop you from returning the smile and well…food is food, so you stuff a bit of kimchi into your mouth.
Jiyong seems satisfied with that, and so you are too.
“…’s goophd.”
You try to say through a mouthful. And his façade suddenly breaks and he lets out a hearty laugh, a real one. You can tell by the way his shoulders shake and his eyes become almost as small as Youngbae’s. Just little things you’ve noticed over the years.
You don’t get the joke but you’re laughing too, and now there’s rice on his chin and curry’s dribbling over your bottom lip. And if your managers walked in, they’d think you were both crazy.
And this, you realize, is what you like most about him. Him, happy.
After things calm down and apparently after all your staring, you catch his attention. He cocks his head curiously and quirks an eyebrow. That all, all it takes.
And yes, and this time you do notice, how your ears are burning, how your fingers trembling as they reach for him.
______________________________________________________________________
Crème
Pairing: gd/top
Word Count: 279
A/N: I swear I was aiming for angst… and then this came out. =__=
He’s bony tattooed arms and faux fur and leather pants that chafe when you hold him. He’s gummy smiles and furrowed eyebrows and broad shoulders and lips that need more chap stick than he’d like to admit.
He’s Jiyong. And he’s yours. And you show him just that.
You corner him for kisses and make his coffee just how he likes it, because you’ve done it like a hundred times by now. (hazelnut crème and three sugars. fucking sweet tooth.) And you ruffle his hair, just ‘cause you know he hates it, just ‘cause you know you can.
You lean over to whisper things that don’t even matter, tell dirty jokes just ‘cause you love the way he laughs.
You hold his hand until it’s clammy, you kiss bite suck him until he’s all red and bated breaths. You fuck him, and you take your sweet time, because he enjoys the foreplay as much as the act, because you like the way he arches his back and moans your name and slickens with sweat and stares back at you with half lidded eyes and swollen parted lips and so much want you can barely even breathe.
He’s Jiyong. And he says he loves you. He loves you. He loves you.
He. Loves. You.
And any resolve you have shatters, any self-control you claim is fucking gone. You return the words back tenfold, with every touch, every look, every inch that you can muster within yourself until he fully understands just how much he means to you. It may take a while.
But you have time, more than enough. And you’ll show him one of these days.
Because he’s Jiyong. And because-who’re you kidding?-you’re completely and utterly his.
Pairing: gd/top
Word Count: 632
Boys were never your type and you make this perfectly clear one night when his hand lingers a little longer than it should, and his stupid obnoxious too close grin (has he ever heard of personal space?) makes your stomach want to do back-flips.
And you think you’re disgusted by him and that he’s making you sick and it scares you more than you can handle.
So you don’t really think when you mutter a “Sorry” at him, eyes downcast, fingers trembling. You pull away, dashing out of his room and into yours so fast that you never notice how his smile falters, or how your ears turn red.
It takes you hours to fall asleep, head burrowed under a mountain of cushions, body spooning the giant stuffed bunny he got you a few birthdays ago (you try to forget that little fact). He’s just a wall away, just a couple feet, and your mind is running through all the ‘what if’s.
What if he can hear you? What if he’s heartbroken? Annoyed? Pissed? What if he thinks you’re pathetic? Stupid? An idiot? You are. What if you had let him kiss you? What’s the worse that could have happened?
You hug your bunny tighter, because in the end, you know the answers to nothing. Nothing.
And you try to shoo away that little voice in your head that’s telling you to try and imagine hugging him.
* * * * * * * * * *
“I just…don’t like you…or just guys…like that, you know?” The words fumble out of your mouth and you kind of want to kick yourself with how dumb you sound.
Daesung’s out filming for Family Outing, and Youngbae’s already at the studio, and Seungri’s still sleeping (of course) after coming home from only god knows where at 4 in the morning. And of course, of course, you have to wake up when he does, and be in the kitchen when he is, and drink the coffee he hands you wordlessly because you’re both fucking dead without your caffeine fixes.
And the silence is so palpable, you could slice right through it. Maybe cut it into nice little pieces, put them on a pretty plate and feed them to Gaho-no, to Boss. (fuck Gaho). And when you stir your coffee, the metal spoon clanking against the ceramic inside, it becomes the loudest noise in the entire kitchen. It’s practically echoing with how goddamn quiet it is-
“…’s no problem, don’t worry about it.”
Jiyong mumbles over a spoonful of rice. He flashes you a dashing smile, tries to convey it’s okay with wrinkled eyes and white teeth, and pushes the bowl of kimchi towards your plate for extra measure.
You don’t buy it one bit, but that doesn’t stop you from returning the smile and well…food is food, so you stuff a bit of kimchi into your mouth.
Jiyong seems satisfied with that, and so you are too.
“…’s goophd.”
You try to say through a mouthful. And his façade suddenly breaks and he lets out a hearty laugh, a real one. You can tell by the way his shoulders shake and his eyes become almost as small as Youngbae’s. Just little things you’ve noticed over the years.
You don’t get the joke but you’re laughing too, and now there’s rice on his chin and curry’s dribbling over your bottom lip. And if your managers walked in, they’d think you were both crazy.
And this, you realize, is what you like most about him. Him, happy.
After things calm down and apparently after all your staring, you catch his attention. He cocks his head curiously and quirks an eyebrow. That all, all it takes.
And yes, and this time you do notice, how your ears are burning, how your fingers trembling as they reach for him.
______________________________________________________________________
Crème
Pairing: gd/top
Word Count: 279
A/N: I swear I was aiming for angst… and then this came out. =__=
He’s bony tattooed arms and faux fur and leather pants that chafe when you hold him. He’s gummy smiles and furrowed eyebrows and broad shoulders and lips that need more chap stick than he’d like to admit.
He’s Jiyong. And he’s yours. And you show him just that.
You corner him for kisses and make his coffee just how he likes it, because you’ve done it like a hundred times by now. (hazelnut crème and three sugars. fucking sweet tooth.) And you ruffle his hair, just ‘cause you know he hates it, just ‘cause you know you can.
You lean over to whisper things that don’t even matter, tell dirty jokes just ‘cause you love the way he laughs.
You hold his hand until it’s clammy, you kiss bite suck him until he’s all red and bated breaths. You fuck him, and you take your sweet time, because he enjoys the foreplay as much as the act, because you like the way he arches his back and moans your name and slickens with sweat and stares back at you with half lidded eyes and swollen parted lips and so much want you can barely even breathe.
He’s Jiyong. And he says he loves you. He loves you. He loves you.
He. Loves. You.
And any resolve you have shatters, any self-control you claim is fucking gone. You return the words back tenfold, with every touch, every look, every inch that you can muster within yourself until he fully understands just how much he means to you. It may take a while.
But you have time, more than enough. And you’ll show him one of these days.
Because he’s Jiyong. And because-who’re you kidding?-you’re completely and utterly his.