365.
365
various pairings (junseob, doowoon, kiseung, dookwang, junseung, 2jun),
pg-13, goosebump-inducing unbeta'd
365 words.
quick note: these are all very weird... because of the word limit i'm weird like that hehe. but i hope you'll enjoy them all the same, as much as i had fun laughing while writing them (xmas isn't meant to be srs anyway right)! merry christmas everyone! :))) ♥♥♥
you make me half of your whole
for all junseob stans, written with callmejokeer in mind. ♥
The rainbow sounds of Yoseob's laughter ring clearly in Junhyung's ears (better, brighter than sleigh bells) and a thousand tiny topazes hang from invisible wires in the dark sky tonight. They draw a path for Santa's reindeers, Yoseob says and takes another sip of his coffee. Junhyung stares at his mouth for a while before nodding and looking away.
The streets are flooded with people who bump into each other when the path twists suddenly like the hook of a candy cane. Yoseob holds the coffee cup in his hands, speaking in puffs of hot air and Junhyung is distracted by the way Yoseob's lips curve and lift to show the wet glint of teeth and the curl of his tongue.
"Have you gotten over her yet?" Yoseob says and his eyes meet Junhyung's in a sharp stare. The older boy jumps a little and shifts uncomfortably.
He stutters, "I-I, what, what are you talking about?"
"You weren't paying attention to what I was talking about." Yoseob grins (somewhere a string of Christmas lights flickers and fades).
"Does it matter?" Junhyung shrugs, traces the cardboard angles of his coffee cup with slow fingers until Yoseob reaches over for it (despite Junhyung's protests) and shakes it- empty.
"I guess not. Suffering from a broken heart isn't uncommon during Christmas."
"And you would know because...?"
"I got dumped last Christmas and now it's your turn. Hell, I have friends who get dumped every Christmas."
Junhyung doesn't know where this conversation is taking him; Yoseob is the captain here, steering the ship of their coversation left and right, making sudden turns and slicing through waves of words. Junhyung is surprised that he isn't all pale and queasy yet.
"It's simple," Yoseob declares. "Wish for someone with a broken heart this Christmas."
Yeah, right, Junhyung readies the words in his mouth but Yoseob interrupts him with an easy smile (somewhere a train of lightbulbs blinks and goes out). There are stars suspended in the deep waters of his eyes and Junhyung's half-heart is a black hole longing for light to swallow.
"That was my wish last Christmas. Now give me your broken heart and I'll glue it to mine."
words under thin ice
for all doowoon stans, written with dongwun in mind. ♥
The snow outside is a trap of freezing white, ready to drag careful feet into its wet and cold layers, and icicles hanging from dead trees are waiting teeth. "Frostbite." Doojoon laughs. Dongwoon manages a shaky smile.
Doojoon dances on thin ice while Dongwoon fears.
❄
Doojoon plucks the cigarette from between his lips, leans into a shaking Dongwoon and exhales past his jaw; smoke curls into a grey noose that tightens around his pale neck, or a cancer ring that chokes. Perhaps a silent snake that sneaks in wisps, maybe a collar of tobacco (the leash connects from the curve of Doojoon's mouth you're mine). The older boy laughs as he watches Dongwoon blink away tears.
Words are never enough with Doojoon, he talks with skin. Fingers paint meaning on a mouth, push past kiss-swollen lips and onto a swirling hot tongue to kill the sentences that try to escape. So they come out as needy moans instead (Dongwoon's cheeks burn when he hears himself) while Doojoon's eyes curl and his smile is like a knife.
He can taste salt and smoke on his tongue where Doojoon's callused fingertips glide along his tastebuds (his tongue is dripping desire wherever the finger goes you're mine, mine); Doojoon's other hand wriggles its way past the waistband of Dongwoon's jeans.
❄
And now I have you speaking in tongues, a hot mess of syllables that translate into want. 'Oh god', you cry, but with one nibble of your reddening earlobe, 'God' becomes 'Doojoon'. With another light stroke on your unbearable heat, 'eden' becomes 'need'.
I am the apple of your eye called 'sin'.
'Lust' becomes 'slut' when you beg for more, harder, faster tearing from your throat in breathy baritone. The moon outside is hot white. When the curve of my smile traces yours, 'moon' floats into 'mono' - you're the only one.
❄
"Mine." Doojoon whispers into Dongwoon's mouth. This is the only word you need to hear, you know where I've hidden the rest - in the cage of my heart.
Dongwoon tries to catch his breath as he lays his head on Doojoon's shoulder.
You have tied a dead knot in the red ribbon of my lungs.
these christmas gifts
for all kiseung stans ♥
He bought him a tomato for Christmas.
A plump fruit with a weak stem sits on his palm, stretched out towards him like the stretch of his lips, a smile.
Strong upper body, he says and points to the tomato itself, then awkwardly gestures about the tiny green stem. Like you.
Cut it open, and you'll see that it has lungs too, he pushes the tomato into his confused hands. Two fleshy, dark red sides that are shaped like carpels of an orange, filled with slippery seeds. They really do look like lungs.
Its smooth skin and red sweetness reminds me of you when we went out on our first date. Not to mention that you were kind of ill at the time, and your nose was red as Rudolph's. They laugh, remembering how they swallowed their hearts during the crazy rollercoaster rides and held in the contents of their stomachs when the giant teacup they shared spun out of control.
I feel its soft weight leaning against my fingers, I might bruise it if my grip tightens just a little. So I have to be careful with it, because what I have in my hand is the world.
Kikwang isn't sure if he gets Hyunseung's message (sometimes it's completely indecipherable, alien) but he takes the tomato and cups it with his own hands, smiles up at Hyunseung and says, "Thank you."
"Can we make pasta with it now?"
❄
The next day, Kikwang gives Hyunseung a pencilled square on a piece of paper. There's a tiny pencil-grey flame burning within the rough lines, and it says, 'hearth' in Kikwang-scrawl.
Heart, Kikwang explains. Plus a 'h' behind for Hyunseung.
The fire burning within the box of your heart spills over like hot chocolate on a cold evening and surrounds me every time, he leans closer. You're the warmth that I come home to.
Hyunseung puts the paper down, blinking in surprise when Kikwang flashes him a smile (it could probably melt all that snow outside) and he tells Kikwang, "Thank you."
He puts it against their fridge and slaps a tiny magnet over it to keep it from sliding off.
"You guys are retards," Doojoon says.
kiss by kiss
for all dookwang stans, written with kigae in mind. ♥
Kiss by kiss he traces trembling lips and the gentle curves of jaw and neck, his fingers crawling beyond the thick scarf, tugging at the fabric to reveal more skin- Kikwang shivers when cold air and Doojoon's heated breath hits the skin of his collar bone all at once.
Making out on a park bench when it's freezing outside may sound unromantic at first, but when Doojoon's burning tongue slides against his, Kikwang sees fireworks behind his heavy eyelids.
God shakes snowflakes from the clouds above just as Doojoon's hand slips under his sweater (a gasp, "W-Wait, wait-") and Kikwang's face is a fireplace.
When Doojoon pulls away with a sigh, Kikwang shakes him by the shoulder and stares up at the withering trees overhead. "Look, snow."
They look up at the spindly branches of the fruitless, almost leaf-less tree directly above, a planetarium of missing planets (apple or orange, lemon or pear?) frozen in time. They watch it become a white-frosted skeleton and Kikwang turns to Doojoon with a smile. He sweeps dots of white from Doojoon's shoulder and head, laughing as he does so.
"You've got some in your hair too," Doojoon grins and drags his fingers across Kikwang's hair, pulling him in for a sudden kiss on the forehead- the younger boy's yelp turns into barely-suppressed chuckles. "We should go home, it's getting colder and colder by the minute."
Doojoon snaps his fingers and stands up abruptly, "We need to get a log cake."
❄
They walk towards a tiny bakery with Kikwang's arm hooked around Doojoon's in an uncomfortably tight grip, and a glass display filled with sugary cakes and cream-stuffed delights meets their sparkling eyes. Dark cherries and curls of whipped cream sit neatly on a throne of chocolate sponge, surrounded by chocolate shavings.
Everything translates into sin and calories, but to hell with that, it's Christmas, Doojoon tells Kikwang.
"My muscles are shrinking and it's your fault," He laughs, nudging Doojoon in the side while smiling brightly at the lady behind the counter (she's been staring at them for too long).
"Whatever you say, Stalker Saeho."
"Hey, that's old!"
"You can be my stalker, I don't mind-"
"Byuntae ahjussi!"
build me a city of flesh
for all junseung stans ♥
The sky is a warm, blue skin that protects and clouds are birthmarks. They live in the heart of the city and watch the stars burn themselves out sometimes.
His tattoo stretches across the land carpe diem quam minimum credula postero and faces the shifting sun and mocking moon. Seize the day, that's what they're always trying to do. The practice room is bright all night as they push their feet to move and struggle to keep up with the deafening music.
Scars are old buildings that fade with each flip of the calendar, and today it is a new day. He rolls over in bed and whispers wake up against twitching edges of his mouth, hyunseung wake up. A lazy pillow fight begins without warning, and they both become wide awake.
On February the 14th, they build a museum and fill it with many things- the first couch they shared, the first beer bottle one of them broke, the blood stains on the carpet that are disappearing.
The half-asleep voice of Junhyung trapped in a glass bottle that says love you when Hyunseung plucks the cork out.
He adds in his own voice I love us beyond the rim and quickly corks the bottle, a wide grin playing out on his lips and somewhere a silent film unreels itself.
❄
The sky sheds its bright blue skin for an orange one in August, then finally fades off into a coat of white.
Snow falls on December 25th and colours the buildings angel white. Junhyung sits in their apartment alone, watching fractured light whiten the walls and Hyunseung calls him from somewhere downstairs with a box in his arms.
"Come downstairs."
"No, it's cold outside. Come home."
"Look out the window, it's snowing."
"I know," Junhyung laughs. "Come home, please?"
"Fine, you lazy ass."
Junhyung shifts under the heavy blankets with his eyes closed, waiting for the sound of keys jingling outside the door, the loud sigh of relief when the door opens and the echo of a box landing on the coffee table.
Hyunseung stands with his arms folded across his chest and Junhyung opens one eye, grins playfully and says, "Santa, is that you?"
snow
for all 2jun stans, written with yunsias and tammie (idk your LJ OTL) in mind. ♥
edit: I'M GOING TO REWRITE THIS AND MAKE IT LONGER I SWEAR ;A; personally not satisfied with this... OTL
A Christmas tree is a green triangle with messy whorls of crayon for baubles and a yellow star pasted over the top, looking like it's about to topple over. The masterpiece of a five-year-old.
Junhyung looks it over once, shoves the yellowed paper back into his drawer and his eyes shift towards the frosted window- it's snowing.
He remembers that when he was younger, he used to wish for snow to fill up the streets and pour onto the roof, like icing on a cake. He wanted to build the biggest snowman ever (unfortunately he ended up getting rolled over by the giant snowball) and win every snowball fight against his friends.
That was in the past, now he just hates snow. He hates it when dirty snow gets into his shoes or onto his pants, and he hates it when it gets too cold.
Junhyung returns from nagging at his brother to clean up his room and lays in bed when it's midnight, staring at the ceiling. He wishes for the snow to stop and just melt away, along with his other worries.
The night sky stretched over Seoul is a blend of deep blue and satellite lights. Doojoon yawns and leans against a pillow of cloud, touching the sky with his fingers and luminous dots appear on the navy blue canvas. He watches the busy roads and narrow streets fill themselves with life, lights winking and flashing everywhere. They are curves of stars on their own, and Doojoon plays join-the-dots with them while he listens to Hyunseung read out a list of winter wishes.
"Why am I doing this for you?" Hyunseung sighs halfway through reading. "I'm supposed to be on a break until next August. Can't you get Kikwang to do the reading?"
"Hyunseung, he's Spring, he's probably freezing his ass off right now, bet you he can't move at all."
"He's as good as dead, I get what you're saying."
"So yeah, go on, you were reading something about more snow, or something?"
"Yeah, and some guy here wishes that it'd stop snowing, nothing new here, except that he wished it with some colourful language. "
Doojoon sits up against his clouds, and frowns at Hyunseung. "What?"
"It's uh, too vulgar for me to read it out, but basically, he's insulting you."
Doojoon snatches the roll of paper from Hyunseung's hands and reads the wish. Hyunseung watches as Doojoon's knuckles grow whiter by the minute and his eyes grow bigger than usual (those eye whites really are scary).
"This kid..."
Hyunseung retreats behind his own clouds when Doojoon starts making larger snowballs for the next morning with angry hands.
Junhyung wakes up to a colder day and he groans. What is wrong with the weather? He curses under his breath and drags his feet to the bathroom. Meanwhile, Doojoon watches the brat rush through breakfast and struggle to pull on his coat, while he brushes his teeth with snowpaste.
"Hello? Dongwoon-ah?" Junhyung shuts the door behind him and fumbles with his phone slightly. "Yeah, I'm on my-"
Doojoon laughs loudly (and tiny clouds spin around) when Junhyung takes a step onto the snow and sinks into it, flailing when the snow reaches his knees and he shrieks into the phone, godfuckindammit! The cold seeps through his pants and crawls into his bones fuck fuck fuck and Junhyung is sure that his legs are frozen. Doojoon claps a hand over his mouth to stop his laughter.
For the rest of his day, Doojoon follows Junhyung around on his snow cloud, throwing tiny snowballs at him.
I hate winter, I hate winter, I hate winter, Junhyung pulls his hoodie over his head tightly and swears through gritted teeth.
Doojoon prepares more snowballs when it's evening and Junhyung is indoors (safe from Doojoon). Hyunseung rolls by on a cloud and shakes his head while clicking his tongue. "You're a big bully."
"It's what he gets for hating me."
"I will laugh my teeth out when God punishes you for being so mean."
"I should piss ice shards on him tomorrow."
"You're disgusting."
Doojoon shrugs and returns to making a pyramid of snowballs. Hyunseung floats away to find Kikwang- he has a plan.
The next morning, Junhyung wakes up to light snow falling outside his window. With narrowed eyes, he climbs out of bed and presses his cheek against the window- the snow doesn't look knee-deep this time. When he goes outside, there isn't heavy snow pelting against his shoulders like yesterday, only fluffs of white drifting along on invisible rivers of air.
When God pulls down the curtains of night and the sky becomes a sparkling coal, Junhyung watches snowflakes dance near his window sill. Something is really up with the weather, first heavy snow and now this, he frowns.
Winter is weird.
Somewhere up in the heavens, Doojoon smoothens out his last snowflake with a cold thumb, spins it in his hand and drops it from his cloud. It makes its way through the layers of frozen air until it finally reaches Junhyung's house.
There's something wrong with him today. He doesn't feel like annoying Junhyung with giant snowballs or thick layers of white that will bite into Junhyung's legs. Instead, he feels this urge to make him like winter, so he comes up with lighter snowfall and shining snowflakes. Hyunseung watches Doojoon plan out more detailed snowflakes and sift out snow to make lighter, powder snow for Junhyung.
He turns to a sleepy-eyed Kikwang and gives a thumbs-up. The boy smiles in response and goes back to watering a rose- a white butterfly circles it until it finally lands upon the crimson petals. He breathes onto the butterfly a name- Doojoon.
The butterfly stays atop its red throne for a long time.
rose = love.
OTL I KNOW IT'S WEIRD
guess who are the seasons hehe
to you guys: thank you for being my friends! ♥ i only have words, so...
but i hope you guys will have a great christmas and an awesome new year ahead!
promise i'll write better things soon!
merry christmas once again ♥
various pairings (junseob, doowoon, kiseung, dookwang, junseung, 2jun),
pg-13, goosebump-inducing unbeta'd
365 words.
quick note: these are all very weird... because of the word limit i'm weird like that hehe. but i hope you'll enjoy them all the same, as much as i had fun laughing while writing them (xmas isn't meant to be srs anyway right)! merry christmas everyone! :))) ♥♥♥
you make me half of your whole
for all junseob stans, written with callmejokeer in mind. ♥
The rainbow sounds of Yoseob's laughter ring clearly in Junhyung's ears (better, brighter than sleigh bells) and a thousand tiny topazes hang from invisible wires in the dark sky tonight. They draw a path for Santa's reindeers, Yoseob says and takes another sip of his coffee. Junhyung stares at his mouth for a while before nodding and looking away.
The streets are flooded with people who bump into each other when the path twists suddenly like the hook of a candy cane. Yoseob holds the coffee cup in his hands, speaking in puffs of hot air and Junhyung is distracted by the way Yoseob's lips curve and lift to show the wet glint of teeth and the curl of his tongue.
"Have you gotten over her yet?" Yoseob says and his eyes meet Junhyung's in a sharp stare. The older boy jumps a little and shifts uncomfortably.
He stutters, "I-I, what, what are you talking about?"
"You weren't paying attention to what I was talking about." Yoseob grins (somewhere a string of Christmas lights flickers and fades).
"Does it matter?" Junhyung shrugs, traces the cardboard angles of his coffee cup with slow fingers until Yoseob reaches over for it (despite Junhyung's protests) and shakes it- empty.
"I guess not. Suffering from a broken heart isn't uncommon during Christmas."
"And you would know because...?"
"I got dumped last Christmas and now it's your turn. Hell, I have friends who get dumped every Christmas."
Junhyung doesn't know where this conversation is taking him; Yoseob is the captain here, steering the ship of their coversation left and right, making sudden turns and slicing through waves of words. Junhyung is surprised that he isn't all pale and queasy yet.
"It's simple," Yoseob declares. "Wish for someone with a broken heart this Christmas."
Yeah, right, Junhyung readies the words in his mouth but Yoseob interrupts him with an easy smile (somewhere a train of lightbulbs blinks and goes out). There are stars suspended in the deep waters of his eyes and Junhyung's half-heart is a black hole longing for light to swallow.
"That was my wish last Christmas. Now give me your broken heart and I'll glue it to mine."
words under thin ice
for all doowoon stans, written with dongwun in mind. ♥
The snow outside is a trap of freezing white, ready to drag careful feet into its wet and cold layers, and icicles hanging from dead trees are waiting teeth. "Frostbite." Doojoon laughs. Dongwoon manages a shaky smile.
Doojoon dances on thin ice while Dongwoon fears.
❄
Doojoon plucks the cigarette from between his lips, leans into a shaking Dongwoon and exhales past his jaw; smoke curls into a grey noose that tightens around his pale neck, or a cancer ring that chokes. Perhaps a silent snake that sneaks in wisps, maybe a collar of tobacco (the leash connects from the curve of Doojoon's mouth you're mine). The older boy laughs as he watches Dongwoon blink away tears.
Words are never enough with Doojoon, he talks with skin. Fingers paint meaning on a mouth, push past kiss-swollen lips and onto a swirling hot tongue to kill the sentences that try to escape. So they come out as needy moans instead (Dongwoon's cheeks burn when he hears himself) while Doojoon's eyes curl and his smile is like a knife.
He can taste salt and smoke on his tongue where Doojoon's callused fingertips glide along his tastebuds (his tongue is dripping desire wherever the finger goes you're mine, mine); Doojoon's other hand wriggles its way past the waistband of Dongwoon's jeans.
❄
And now I have you speaking in tongues, a hot mess of syllables that translate into want. 'Oh god', you cry, but with one nibble of your reddening earlobe, 'God' becomes 'Doojoon'. With another light stroke on your unbearable heat, 'eden' becomes 'need'.
I am the apple of your eye called 'sin'.
'Lust' becomes 'slut' when you beg for more, harder, faster tearing from your throat in breathy baritone. The moon outside is hot white. When the curve of my smile traces yours, 'moon' floats into 'mono' - you're the only one.
❄
"Mine." Doojoon whispers into Dongwoon's mouth. This is the only word you need to hear, you know where I've hidden the rest - in the cage of my heart.
Dongwoon tries to catch his breath as he lays his head on Doojoon's shoulder.
You have tied a dead knot in the red ribbon of my lungs.
these christmas gifts
for all kiseung stans ♥
He bought him a tomato for Christmas.
A plump fruit with a weak stem sits on his palm, stretched out towards him like the stretch of his lips, a smile.
Strong upper body, he says and points to the tomato itself, then awkwardly gestures about the tiny green stem. Like you.
Cut it open, and you'll see that it has lungs too, he pushes the tomato into his confused hands. Two fleshy, dark red sides that are shaped like carpels of an orange, filled with slippery seeds. They really do look like lungs.
Its smooth skin and red sweetness reminds me of you when we went out on our first date. Not to mention that you were kind of ill at the time, and your nose was red as Rudolph's. They laugh, remembering how they swallowed their hearts during the crazy rollercoaster rides and held in the contents of their stomachs when the giant teacup they shared spun out of control.
I feel its soft weight leaning against my fingers, I might bruise it if my grip tightens just a little. So I have to be careful with it, because what I have in my hand is the world.
Kikwang isn't sure if he gets Hyunseung's message (sometimes it's completely indecipherable, alien) but he takes the tomato and cups it with his own hands, smiles up at Hyunseung and says, "Thank you."
"Can we make pasta with it now?"
❄
The next day, Kikwang gives Hyunseung a pencilled square on a piece of paper. There's a tiny pencil-grey flame burning within the rough lines, and it says, 'hearth' in Kikwang-scrawl.
Heart, Kikwang explains. Plus a 'h' behind for Hyunseung.
The fire burning within the box of your heart spills over like hot chocolate on a cold evening and surrounds me every time, he leans closer. You're the warmth that I come home to.
Hyunseung puts the paper down, blinking in surprise when Kikwang flashes him a smile (it could probably melt all that snow outside) and he tells Kikwang, "Thank you."
He puts it against their fridge and slaps a tiny magnet over it to keep it from sliding off.
"You guys are retards," Doojoon says.
kiss by kiss
for all dookwang stans, written with kigae in mind. ♥
Kiss by kiss he traces trembling lips and the gentle curves of jaw and neck, his fingers crawling beyond the thick scarf, tugging at the fabric to reveal more skin- Kikwang shivers when cold air and Doojoon's heated breath hits the skin of his collar bone all at once.
Making out on a park bench when it's freezing outside may sound unromantic at first, but when Doojoon's burning tongue slides against his, Kikwang sees fireworks behind his heavy eyelids.
God shakes snowflakes from the clouds above just as Doojoon's hand slips under his sweater (a gasp, "W-Wait, wait-") and Kikwang's face is a fireplace.
When Doojoon pulls away with a sigh, Kikwang shakes him by the shoulder and stares up at the withering trees overhead. "Look, snow."
They look up at the spindly branches of the fruitless, almost leaf-less tree directly above, a planetarium of missing planets (apple or orange, lemon or pear?) frozen in time. They watch it become a white-frosted skeleton and Kikwang turns to Doojoon with a smile. He sweeps dots of white from Doojoon's shoulder and head, laughing as he does so.
"You've got some in your hair too," Doojoon grins and drags his fingers across Kikwang's hair, pulling him in for a sudden kiss on the forehead- the younger boy's yelp turns into barely-suppressed chuckles. "We should go home, it's getting colder and colder by the minute."
Doojoon snaps his fingers and stands up abruptly, "We need to get a log cake."
❄
They walk towards a tiny bakery with Kikwang's arm hooked around Doojoon's in an uncomfortably tight grip, and a glass display filled with sugary cakes and cream-stuffed delights meets their sparkling eyes. Dark cherries and curls of whipped cream sit neatly on a throne of chocolate sponge, surrounded by chocolate shavings.
Everything translates into sin and calories, but to hell with that, it's Christmas, Doojoon tells Kikwang.
"My muscles are shrinking and it's your fault," He laughs, nudging Doojoon in the side while smiling brightly at the lady behind the counter (she's been staring at them for too long).
"Whatever you say, Stalker Saeho."
"Hey, that's old!"
"You can be my stalker, I don't mind-"
"Byuntae ahjussi!"
build me a city of flesh
for all junseung stans ♥
The sky is a warm, blue skin that protects and clouds are birthmarks. They live in the heart of the city and watch the stars burn themselves out sometimes.
His tattoo stretches across the land carpe diem quam minimum credula postero and faces the shifting sun and mocking moon. Seize the day, that's what they're always trying to do. The practice room is bright all night as they push their feet to move and struggle to keep up with the deafening music.
Scars are old buildings that fade with each flip of the calendar, and today it is a new day. He rolls over in bed and whispers wake up against twitching edges of his mouth, hyunseung wake up. A lazy pillow fight begins without warning, and they both become wide awake.
On February the 14th, they build a museum and fill it with many things- the first couch they shared, the first beer bottle one of them broke, the blood stains on the carpet that are disappearing.
The half-asleep voice of Junhyung trapped in a glass bottle that says love you when Hyunseung plucks the cork out.
He adds in his own voice I love us beyond the rim and quickly corks the bottle, a wide grin playing out on his lips and somewhere a silent film unreels itself.
❄
The sky sheds its bright blue skin for an orange one in August, then finally fades off into a coat of white.
Snow falls on December 25th and colours the buildings angel white. Junhyung sits in their apartment alone, watching fractured light whiten the walls and Hyunseung calls him from somewhere downstairs with a box in his arms.
"Come downstairs."
"No, it's cold outside. Come home."
"Look out the window, it's snowing."
"I know," Junhyung laughs. "Come home, please?"
"Fine, you lazy ass."
Junhyung shifts under the heavy blankets with his eyes closed, waiting for the sound of keys jingling outside the door, the loud sigh of relief when the door opens and the echo of a box landing on the coffee table.
Hyunseung stands with his arms folded across his chest and Junhyung opens one eye, grins playfully and says, "Santa, is that you?"
snow
for all 2jun stans, written with yunsias and tammie (idk your LJ OTL) in mind. ♥
edit: I'M GOING TO REWRITE THIS AND MAKE IT LONGER I SWEAR ;A; personally not satisfied with this... OTL
A Christmas tree is a green triangle with messy whorls of crayon for baubles and a yellow star pasted over the top, looking like it's about to topple over. The masterpiece of a five-year-old.
Junhyung looks it over once, shoves the yellowed paper back into his drawer and his eyes shift towards the frosted window- it's snowing.
He remembers that when he was younger, he used to wish for snow to fill up the streets and pour onto the roof, like icing on a cake. He wanted to build the biggest snowman ever (unfortunately he ended up getting rolled over by the giant snowball) and win every snowball fight against his friends.
That was in the past, now he just hates snow. He hates it when dirty snow gets into his shoes or onto his pants, and he hates it when it gets too cold.
Junhyung returns from nagging at his brother to clean up his room and lays in bed when it's midnight, staring at the ceiling. He wishes for the snow to stop and just melt away, along with his other worries.
The night sky stretched over Seoul is a blend of deep blue and satellite lights. Doojoon yawns and leans against a pillow of cloud, touching the sky with his fingers and luminous dots appear on the navy blue canvas. He watches the busy roads and narrow streets fill themselves with life, lights winking and flashing everywhere. They are curves of stars on their own, and Doojoon plays join-the-dots with them while he listens to Hyunseung read out a list of winter wishes.
"Why am I doing this for you?" Hyunseung sighs halfway through reading. "I'm supposed to be on a break until next August. Can't you get Kikwang to do the reading?"
"Hyunseung, he's Spring, he's probably freezing his ass off right now, bet you he can't move at all."
"He's as good as dead, I get what you're saying."
"So yeah, go on, you were reading something about more snow, or something?"
"Yeah, and some guy here wishes that it'd stop snowing, nothing new here, except that he wished it with some colourful language. "
Doojoon sits up against his clouds, and frowns at Hyunseung. "What?"
"It's uh, too vulgar for me to read it out, but basically, he's insulting you."
Doojoon snatches the roll of paper from Hyunseung's hands and reads the wish. Hyunseung watches as Doojoon's knuckles grow whiter by the minute and his eyes grow bigger than usual (those eye whites really are scary).
"This kid..."
Hyunseung retreats behind his own clouds when Doojoon starts making larger snowballs for the next morning with angry hands.
Junhyung wakes up to a colder day and he groans. What is wrong with the weather? He curses under his breath and drags his feet to the bathroom. Meanwhile, Doojoon watches the brat rush through breakfast and struggle to pull on his coat, while he brushes his teeth with snowpaste.
"Hello? Dongwoon-ah?" Junhyung shuts the door behind him and fumbles with his phone slightly. "Yeah, I'm on my-"
Doojoon laughs loudly (and tiny clouds spin around) when Junhyung takes a step onto the snow and sinks into it, flailing when the snow reaches his knees and he shrieks into the phone, godfuckindammit! The cold seeps through his pants and crawls into his bones fuck fuck fuck and Junhyung is sure that his legs are frozen. Doojoon claps a hand over his mouth to stop his laughter.
For the rest of his day, Doojoon follows Junhyung around on his snow cloud, throwing tiny snowballs at him.
I hate winter, I hate winter, I hate winter, Junhyung pulls his hoodie over his head tightly and swears through gritted teeth.
Doojoon prepares more snowballs when it's evening and Junhyung is indoors (safe from Doojoon). Hyunseung rolls by on a cloud and shakes his head while clicking his tongue. "You're a big bully."
"It's what he gets for hating me."
"I will laugh my teeth out when God punishes you for being so mean."
"I should piss ice shards on him tomorrow."
"You're disgusting."
Doojoon shrugs and returns to making a pyramid of snowballs. Hyunseung floats away to find Kikwang- he has a plan.
The next morning, Junhyung wakes up to light snow falling outside his window. With narrowed eyes, he climbs out of bed and presses his cheek against the window- the snow doesn't look knee-deep this time. When he goes outside, there isn't heavy snow pelting against his shoulders like yesterday, only fluffs of white drifting along on invisible rivers of air.
When God pulls down the curtains of night and the sky becomes a sparkling coal, Junhyung watches snowflakes dance near his window sill. Something is really up with the weather, first heavy snow and now this, he frowns.
Winter is weird.
Somewhere up in the heavens, Doojoon smoothens out his last snowflake with a cold thumb, spins it in his hand and drops it from his cloud. It makes its way through the layers of frozen air until it finally reaches Junhyung's house.
There's something wrong with him today. He doesn't feel like annoying Junhyung with giant snowballs or thick layers of white that will bite into Junhyung's legs. Instead, he feels this urge to make him like winter, so he comes up with lighter snowfall and shining snowflakes. Hyunseung watches Doojoon plan out more detailed snowflakes and sift out snow to make lighter, powder snow for Junhyung.
He turns to a sleepy-eyed Kikwang and gives a thumbs-up. The boy smiles in response and goes back to watering a rose- a white butterfly circles it until it finally lands upon the crimson petals. He breathes onto the butterfly a name- Doojoon.
The butterfly stays atop its red throne for a long time.
rose = love.
OTL I KNOW IT'S WEIRD
guess who are the seasons hehe
to you guys: thank you for being my friends! ♥ i only have words, so...
but i hope you guys will have a great christmas and an awesome new year ahead!
promise i'll write better things soon!
merry christmas once again ♥