my strongest facial feature is my s-line
my strongest facial feature is my s-line
g; 900+ words; kris/baekhyun
au; a krisbaek meetcute
i'm so sorry for my sins; i should die for them orz orz orz i was gonna do coffeeshop!au krisbaek meetcute but i never actually got to that part.......... so here's just regular meetcute AHAHAHAH
(it was gonna be part-time stripper baek with coffeeshop job meeting kris but oh well~~~~~)
Baekhyun’s just getting into his groove on his way to work, swiveling his hips from side to side, as he headbangs to the timeless SNSD classic “Oh!” when he’s rudely bumped into and pushed onto the ground by some neanderthal heathen. He squawks, a loud blustering sound that Chanyeol would probably say could’ve come from a headless chicken (never mind how headless chickens can even produce sounds; Chanyeol just really loves his metaphors), and flails dramatically to regain his balance too late. He lands with a slight bounce on his poor abused ass, though thankfully over the sidewalk grass than the hard concrete, and makes an exaggerated grimace of pain to cover up the real amount of pain and embarrassment he feels burning through his cheeks right now.
“Shit, are you okay? I’m so sorry about that!” says the person who threw him down frantically, crouching down to Baekhyun’s eye-level and sticking out an abnormally large hand almost in his face. “Let me help you up.”
About to snap cattily at his attacker, Baekhyun looks up from his damage control of his outfit today (a sunny black-and-yellow striped sweater and, thankfully, dark blue skinnies that would be dark enough to hide the mud stains of shame) with a scowl that dissolves immediately into an open-mouthed gape when he registers the person’s concerned face.
Squatting before him, still with his hand stuck dumbly out, is a blonde mustard-wearing god (and you’d have to be a deity to even pull off mustard anything; this guy is literally the Jesus Christ of mustard yellow with how delicious he looks in that button-down and white pants) with enormous dark eyebrows framing the shape of his face and a nose stronger than the superglue that bastard Jongdae used to glue together his fingers while he was sleeping freshman year. Mustard God’s lips were pulled down in a frown, and Baekhyun just wants to suck them back up to life with his mouth.
“...Hello?” Mustard God waves the hand he has out in front of Baekhyun’s frozen face, and Baekhyun snaps back to reality, face flushing even more than earlier. His gape is exchanged with the shy flirty smile that got him Kim Jonghyun’s dick last month and employee of the week this week, and he quickly shoots out his own hands to grasp the withdrawing limb of Mustard God.
“Hi! I’m fine, thank you for asking! I’m just such a klutz sometimes,” he warbles, shrugging self-deprecatingly, tilting his head down and looking up from his lashes. (Thank god he went for the mascara today.) Mustard God smiles hesitantly back, closed-mouth and small, but it’s enough to brighten up his stern countenance entirely. Baekhyun has to purse his lips for a moment to hold back the whimper in his throat.
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s my fault for running into you,” Mustard God assures, rising and lifting Baekhyun’s not inconsiderable mass up with ease, pulling him into a standing position several inches closer than they’d been before. Baekhyun could just swoon right about now; he’s already clutching at Mustard God’s hands like it’s the last plate of galbi left at the dinner table with Jongdae, Chanyeol, and Zitao.
“No, no, it’s my fault; I never look at where I’m going when I’m listening to music,” Baekhyun says with another smile, teeth scraping over his bottom lip with calculated shyness. Mustard God’s eyes drop down to his lips for a moment, and Baekhyun can already hear the victory bells ringing.
“Oh! You got mud on your sweater, I’m so sorry,” says Mustard God suddenly, eyes sliding over to Baekhyun’s backside, and Baekhyun twists over his shoulder to assess the damage. It’s not too terrible, but it’s definitely going to stain if he doesn’t wash it today, which makes him pout unthinkingly. Mustard God notices, though, and leans over with his free hand. (Close up, it looks like it can probably cover his entire face, jesus christ.) “Let me get that for you.”
Baekhyun opens his mouth to ask what he means, but freezes in place when Mustard God leans over his shoulder, grazing his ear and neck with a puff of warm air, and starts wiping the mud off his ass. Holy gods above.
“Uhm? I usually get a name and a first date before anybody gets this close and personal with my ass,” he spits out, half-scandalized at Mustard God’s audacity and half-inappropriately aroused because Mustard God’s hand is literally patting his buttcheek without stop.
Mustard God stops completely, and draws back slowly with a look of sheepish horror and embarrassment. It still does nothing to deter his utter gorgeousness; Baekhyun wants to punch him in the mouth a little.
“I’m so sorry,” Mustard god says, hand sheepishly raising to comb through his blonde locks. “I didn’t mean to--I mean, I wasn’t trying to--I’m so sorry.” There’s a slight blush dusting his cheekbones, and a part of Baekhyun whispers tenderly at its endearingness.
All the while, Baekhyun retains his grasp on Mustard God’s hand, and he looks down at their clasped hands before looking back up with a less coy and more genuinely cheeky smirk.
“That’s okay. I’ll forgive you if you give me your name; I’m Baekhyun, by the way.”
Mustard God’s mouth twitches up before blooming open, unveiling a more gummy than expected smile. Baekhyun’s own smirk opens into a smile, charmed by how dear he finds this less-than-perfect smile.
“I’m Kris.”
g; 900+ words; kris/baekhyun
au; a krisbaek meetcute
i'm so sorry for my sins; i should die for them orz orz orz i was gonna do coffeeshop!au krisbaek meetcute but i never actually got to that part.......... so here's just regular meetcute AHAHAHAH
(it was gonna be part-time stripper baek with coffeeshop job meeting kris but oh well~~~~~)
Baekhyun’s just getting into his groove on his way to work, swiveling his hips from side to side, as he headbangs to the timeless SNSD classic “Oh!” when he’s rudely bumped into and pushed onto the ground by some neanderthal heathen. He squawks, a loud blustering sound that Chanyeol would probably say could’ve come from a headless chicken (never mind how headless chickens can even produce sounds; Chanyeol just really loves his metaphors), and flails dramatically to regain his balance too late. He lands with a slight bounce on his poor abused ass, though thankfully over the sidewalk grass than the hard concrete, and makes an exaggerated grimace of pain to cover up the real amount of pain and embarrassment he feels burning through his cheeks right now.
“Shit, are you okay? I’m so sorry about that!” says the person who threw him down frantically, crouching down to Baekhyun’s eye-level and sticking out an abnormally large hand almost in his face. “Let me help you up.”
About to snap cattily at his attacker, Baekhyun looks up from his damage control of his outfit today (a sunny black-and-yellow striped sweater and, thankfully, dark blue skinnies that would be dark enough to hide the mud stains of shame) with a scowl that dissolves immediately into an open-mouthed gape when he registers the person’s concerned face.
Squatting before him, still with his hand stuck dumbly out, is a blonde mustard-wearing god (and you’d have to be a deity to even pull off mustard anything; this guy is literally the Jesus Christ of mustard yellow with how delicious he looks in that button-down and white pants) with enormous dark eyebrows framing the shape of his face and a nose stronger than the superglue that bastard Jongdae used to glue together his fingers while he was sleeping freshman year. Mustard God’s lips were pulled down in a frown, and Baekhyun just wants to suck them back up to life with his mouth.
“...Hello?” Mustard God waves the hand he has out in front of Baekhyun’s frozen face, and Baekhyun snaps back to reality, face flushing even more than earlier. His gape is exchanged with the shy flirty smile that got him Kim Jonghyun’s dick last month and employee of the week this week, and he quickly shoots out his own hands to grasp the withdrawing limb of Mustard God.
“Hi! I’m fine, thank you for asking! I’m just such a klutz sometimes,” he warbles, shrugging self-deprecatingly, tilting his head down and looking up from his lashes. (Thank god he went for the mascara today.) Mustard God smiles hesitantly back, closed-mouth and small, but it’s enough to brighten up his stern countenance entirely. Baekhyun has to purse his lips for a moment to hold back the whimper in his throat.
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s my fault for running into you,” Mustard God assures, rising and lifting Baekhyun’s not inconsiderable mass up with ease, pulling him into a standing position several inches closer than they’d been before. Baekhyun could just swoon right about now; he’s already clutching at Mustard God’s hands like it’s the last plate of galbi left at the dinner table with Jongdae, Chanyeol, and Zitao.
“No, no, it’s my fault; I never look at where I’m going when I’m listening to music,” Baekhyun says with another smile, teeth scraping over his bottom lip with calculated shyness. Mustard God’s eyes drop down to his lips for a moment, and Baekhyun can already hear the victory bells ringing.
“Oh! You got mud on your sweater, I’m so sorry,” says Mustard God suddenly, eyes sliding over to Baekhyun’s backside, and Baekhyun twists over his shoulder to assess the damage. It’s not too terrible, but it’s definitely going to stain if he doesn’t wash it today, which makes him pout unthinkingly. Mustard God notices, though, and leans over with his free hand. (Close up, it looks like it can probably cover his entire face, jesus christ.) “Let me get that for you.”
Baekhyun opens his mouth to ask what he means, but freezes in place when Mustard God leans over his shoulder, grazing his ear and neck with a puff of warm air, and starts wiping the mud off his ass. Holy gods above.
“Uhm? I usually get a name and a first date before anybody gets this close and personal with my ass,” he spits out, half-scandalized at Mustard God’s audacity and half-inappropriately aroused because Mustard God’s hand is literally patting his buttcheek without stop.
Mustard God stops completely, and draws back slowly with a look of sheepish horror and embarrassment. It still does nothing to deter his utter gorgeousness; Baekhyun wants to punch him in the mouth a little.
“I’m so sorry,” Mustard god says, hand sheepishly raising to comb through his blonde locks. “I didn’t mean to--I mean, I wasn’t trying to--I’m so sorry.” There’s a slight blush dusting his cheekbones, and a part of Baekhyun whispers tenderly at its endearingness.
All the while, Baekhyun retains his grasp on Mustard God’s hand, and he looks down at their clasped hands before looking back up with a less coy and more genuinely cheeky smirk.
“That’s okay. I’ll forgive you if you give me your name; I’m Baekhyun, by the way.”
Mustard God’s mouth twitches up before blooming open, unveiling a more gummy than expected smile. Baekhyun’s own smirk opens into a smile, charmed by how dear he finds this less-than-perfect smile.
“I’m Kris.”