phone booth
title: phone booth
pairing: suho/lay
rating: g
length: 1000~
summary: And that future he saw became the present but at this moment it was now quickly becoming the past.
It was the same phone booth they met in two years ago, its red paint not as fresh as it once was when they squeezed together into it to avoid the unexpected downpour that September night. It was once their haven against the storm. Junmyeon traced the minute cracks on the fiberglass windows with his finger, feeling each one of them go through his heart. With just him there, it was so empty inside, never mind that phone booths were made to be used by only one person at a time. It was cold even though it wasn't raining because there was no one to gather him close and whisper I love you into his ear. The phone booth was just a phone booth when he was without Yixing.
All the bus stops were crowded, all the cabs occupied. It was a struggle to see through the thick sheets of rain drowning the city. Junmyeon shivered as the dampness seeped into his clothes. Nobody had told him there was a coming storm tonight and from the look of things, it wouldn't be letting up anytime soon. He hugged himself, clinging closer on to his jacket, his meager protection against the harsh weather. He had to go home as soon as possible before it worsened, because then, he'd be stuck at the stop with the crowd and freeze to death. So clutching his leather file case against his chest, he ran.
It was inevitable, really, when he felt himself fall back as he collided with a solid object not far into his impromptu marathon. He hadn’t been looking where he was going; his only concern was eating the distance up between the office and his house. He winced as his lower back hit the pavement, winced some more when he saw his file case open and the report he was working on strewn on the street. The printed ink quickly began dissolving under the onslaught of the rain. He scrambled to pick them up even though he knew it was useless. He almost forgot about the solid object he bumped into in his haste to collect the papers, but the solid object moved to reach out a hand. It turned out that the solid object was a person. It was a he. "Let me help you up."
He paused in his attempt to salvage the papers and looked up at the hand offered to him. It was bony and slender. His eyes travelled to the stranger's face. He couldn't make out his appearance clearly but Junmyeon thought he was beautiful. "Come on or we're gonna drown." He was pulled up and dragged none too gently and all Junmyeon could do was throw a last helpless glance at his report, thankful that he was able to get his file case before the stranger snatched him up. Then he found himself running again, one hand held firmly by the other's.
He didn't think it possible but the rain fell harder, making it difficult for him to move his legs. He should have been worrying where they were actually going but Junmyeon couldn't get past the feeling of a hand holding his tightly and thinking that it was nice. He was drenched and cold and freezing but the hand felt nice.
Without warning, the man stopped running and Junmyeon ended up bumping into him again. He heard a short laugh and then he was being pushed into a phone booth, the guy coming in after him making the space cramped with the two of them inside. The noise outside was muffled by the narrow walls enclosing them, the sound of their breathing loud in the relative silence.
Junmyeon wiped the clinging drops of water from his eyes with one hand and blinked as he gazed into the stranger's face. He was right. The man really was beautiful. His dark hair was plastered to his head which emphasized his even features--his smiling dark brown eyes, straight nose and slim, wide lips, as well as the two deep creases on both his cheeks. "Are you all right?" the stranger asked.
"Y-yes." He answered, suddenly feeling self-conscious and imagining what a fright he must look like. "That's great." The other man's smile deepened. "I'm Yixing. Zhang Yixing." Junmyeon just noticed the slight accent when he pronounced his Chinese name. "Uh, Kim Junmyeon." He was about to shake hands with Yixing but he found out that the other was still holding his hand from earlier. He never let go. He could feel his face heat up, making him forget he was supposed to be cold from the rain. Junmyeon awkwardly took his hand back from the other's hold and watched for the guy's reaction but Yixing just smiled. "Nice to meet you, Junmyeon. By the way I'm sorry for crashing into you."
Junmyeon was not. He looked into Yixing's kind eyes and he was not sorry. Because he saw something in the brown depths, a future he would exchange a million of important report papers for. "It's okay," he said, oddly prepared and excited to start that future.
"If we survive this”--Yixing pointed at the deluge that was still happening outside their red-painted shelter--"Let's have coffee sometime."
And that future he saw became the present but at this moment it was now quickly becoming the past. Junmyeon's chest tightened as he remembered the hurtful words that were spoken earlier that night. The hate and the turmoil swirled in his insides as he realized that Yixing might not love him anymore. That he was regretting meeting him and having that coffee. That every moment they had after that fateful September night was but an illusion of happiness brought about by the warmth of held hands and the comfort of a dimpled smile. Junmyeon leaned his forehead against the pane, closing his eyes and wishing that the booth wasn't so empty.
He heard the door open and arms hugged him from behind. I love you, an achingly familiar voice whispered against his ear. I'm sorry. Then suddenly it wasn't just a phone booth anymore. It didn't matter that the paint was peeling and the fiberglass panes were cracked.
Because he was with Yixing and it was heaven.
an: sulay is love okay. and thanks bluu~ for beta-ing my trashble.:DDD
for him who must not be named yet
pairing: suho/lay
rating: g
length: 1000~
summary: And that future he saw became the present but at this moment it was now quickly becoming the past.
It was the same phone booth they met in two years ago, its red paint not as fresh as it once was when they squeezed together into it to avoid the unexpected downpour that September night. It was once their haven against the storm. Junmyeon traced the minute cracks on the fiberglass windows with his finger, feeling each one of them go through his heart. With just him there, it was so empty inside, never mind that phone booths were made to be used by only one person at a time. It was cold even though it wasn't raining because there was no one to gather him close and whisper I love you into his ear. The phone booth was just a phone booth when he was without Yixing.
All the bus stops were crowded, all the cabs occupied. It was a struggle to see through the thick sheets of rain drowning the city. Junmyeon shivered as the dampness seeped into his clothes. Nobody had told him there was a coming storm tonight and from the look of things, it wouldn't be letting up anytime soon. He hugged himself, clinging closer on to his jacket, his meager protection against the harsh weather. He had to go home as soon as possible before it worsened, because then, he'd be stuck at the stop with the crowd and freeze to death. So clutching his leather file case against his chest, he ran.
It was inevitable, really, when he felt himself fall back as he collided with a solid object not far into his impromptu marathon. He hadn’t been looking where he was going; his only concern was eating the distance up between the office and his house. He winced as his lower back hit the pavement, winced some more when he saw his file case open and the report he was working on strewn on the street. The printed ink quickly began dissolving under the onslaught of the rain. He scrambled to pick them up even though he knew it was useless. He almost forgot about the solid object he bumped into in his haste to collect the papers, but the solid object moved to reach out a hand. It turned out that the solid object was a person. It was a he. "Let me help you up."
He paused in his attempt to salvage the papers and looked up at the hand offered to him. It was bony and slender. His eyes travelled to the stranger's face. He couldn't make out his appearance clearly but Junmyeon thought he was beautiful. "Come on or we're gonna drown." He was pulled up and dragged none too gently and all Junmyeon could do was throw a last helpless glance at his report, thankful that he was able to get his file case before the stranger snatched him up. Then he found himself running again, one hand held firmly by the other's.
He didn't think it possible but the rain fell harder, making it difficult for him to move his legs. He should have been worrying where they were actually going but Junmyeon couldn't get past the feeling of a hand holding his tightly and thinking that it was nice. He was drenched and cold and freezing but the hand felt nice.
Without warning, the man stopped running and Junmyeon ended up bumping into him again. He heard a short laugh and then he was being pushed into a phone booth, the guy coming in after him making the space cramped with the two of them inside. The noise outside was muffled by the narrow walls enclosing them, the sound of their breathing loud in the relative silence.
Junmyeon wiped the clinging drops of water from his eyes with one hand and blinked as he gazed into the stranger's face. He was right. The man really was beautiful. His dark hair was plastered to his head which emphasized his even features--his smiling dark brown eyes, straight nose and slim, wide lips, as well as the two deep creases on both his cheeks. "Are you all right?" the stranger asked.
"Y-yes." He answered, suddenly feeling self-conscious and imagining what a fright he must look like. "That's great." The other man's smile deepened. "I'm Yixing. Zhang Yixing." Junmyeon just noticed the slight accent when he pronounced his Chinese name. "Uh, Kim Junmyeon." He was about to shake hands with Yixing but he found out that the other was still holding his hand from earlier. He never let go. He could feel his face heat up, making him forget he was supposed to be cold from the rain. Junmyeon awkwardly took his hand back from the other's hold and watched for the guy's reaction but Yixing just smiled. "Nice to meet you, Junmyeon. By the way I'm sorry for crashing into you."
Junmyeon was not. He looked into Yixing's kind eyes and he was not sorry. Because he saw something in the brown depths, a future he would exchange a million of important report papers for. "It's okay," he said, oddly prepared and excited to start that future.
"If we survive this”--Yixing pointed at the deluge that was still happening outside their red-painted shelter--"Let's have coffee sometime."
And that future he saw became the present but at this moment it was now quickly becoming the past. Junmyeon's chest tightened as he remembered the hurtful words that were spoken earlier that night. The hate and the turmoil swirled in his insides as he realized that Yixing might not love him anymore. That he was regretting meeting him and having that coffee. That every moment they had after that fateful September night was but an illusion of happiness brought about by the warmth of held hands and the comfort of a dimpled smile. Junmyeon leaned his forehead against the pane, closing his eyes and wishing that the booth wasn't so empty.
He heard the door open and arms hugged him from behind. I love you, an achingly familiar voice whispered against his ear. I'm sorry. Then suddenly it wasn't just a phone booth anymore. It didn't matter that the paint was peeling and the fiberglass panes were cracked.
Because he was with Yixing and it was heaven.
an: sulay is love okay. and thanks bluu~ for beta-ing my trashble.:DDD
for him who must not be named yet