[exo] a beautiful stranger
Title: a beautiful stranger
Pairing: Jongin / SeHun
Rating: R
Word Count: 5,800
Summary: it only takes seven days to fall in and out of love.
a/n: my runandgun entry for xxbbq. original post here.
Sunday
SeHun kisses the glass, tilting the cup against his lips as he drowns the bittersweet content. Placing the cup down and scanning the bar from his seat, SeHun takes in the familiar colors of burgundy red against dark oak, eyes adjusting to the dim lights of the pub. Sunday nights, he concludes, are always slow due to the simple fact that Monday came the next morning: the end of one working week and the beginning of another. SeHun imagines those people as ants, dressed uniformly in their monochromatic fashion as they work under a single rule where no mistakes are allowed. It’s a rinse and repeat cycle that SeHun never truly had a heart, nor mind, to understand. He just doesn’t see the light of mid-afternoon smoke breaks and slaving over a desk for hours on a meager salary, only to be devoured in places such as this. But life itself, be it in or outside the colony of black and white, is all a fabrication of truth and lies where ones imagination and failure forged their path to success.
SeHun blinks, staring dully at the empty cup in his hands as he wades in the depths of his own lonely existence. As his lips tilt down in lost thought, he jumps in his seat with a wordless gasp when a shadow suddenly looms over him from across the bar, words reaching his mind past the whisper of radio music in the background.
“Would you like another drink, sir?”
Composing himself, SeHun doesn’t think on it for long as he nods his head and hands over his glass, not even caring to spare a glance at the bartender. “Gin and tonic,” he murmurs, combing a lazy hand through his hair. His eyes drift towards the bartender in boredom, watching as the man steps off to the side and gathers his ingredients. The nameless stranger, with his finely proportionate body adorned with black, mixes the cocktail in silence. SeHun follows the curve of the fingers as they reach around the bottles, tracing the tension of the forearm as it wrestles the shaker. He sits up straighter in his seat, feeling suddenly aware of his surroundings, and couldn’t help but observe the bartender in admiration, eyes shifting between the skillful hands and the shrouded face. He blinks, a wave of nauseating infatuation striking him as he continues to shamelessly stare.
Tall, dark, and broodingly handsome; the bartender was new, and had an air of hidden contentment and mystery weaving around him like a Christmas present.
SeHun shifts his gaze away when the man turns, cocktail in hand. Mindlessly tapping his fingers on the counter, SeHun clears his throat and traces the outline of the ceiling as if it’s the most interesting thing he has ever seen.
“Here you are,” the man says, placing the cocktail with its delicate glass and colorful hue right in front of SeHun.
As he reaches for the cup, the words “thank you” gets caught in SeHun’s throat. He stares at his drink, frowning in confusion as the sunset tint throws him off.
“Either I’m unable to differentiate my colors, or this is not a Gin and Tonic,” SeHun states, quirking an eyebrow as he daringly looks up to the man, brow twitching as he catches a pleased grin.
“No,” the bartender muses, voice rich and deep like the ocean tides, “I thought you needed a little color in you, is all.” The man leans over the counter, elbows resting on the polished surface as his eyes curve up into a delighted smile.
Caught between disbelief and amusement, SeHun traces the dip and shadows of the man’s face, finding himself oddly attracted to the nameless stranger. He looks back to the drink, eyeing the bright shade of the orange-red tone, the bittersweet hue catching the light in an open invitation. Finding the situation unusual yet completely enjoyable, he pinches the straw between his fingers, stirring the drink in an attempt to hide his mild hilarity.
“Alright then,” he clears his throat, “what is this called?”
SeHun catches the Cheshire grin that blooms across a pair of lush lips, a grin that wordlessly gives away hidden meanings, intentional or not. That’s when SeHun should’ve known to turn away, to leave the bar, the eye-catching bartender, and the sunset colored drink behind him. But he stubbornly ignores the gut feeling, taking a tentative sip as that rich voice reassures him of that insecurity.
“It’s called,” the man drawls, throwing a flirtatious wink at SeHun before straightening up, “Sex on the Beach.”
SeHun almost chokes.
Monday
Was it fascination or infatuation that sparked his curiosity aflame? Mere words spoken with the tongue, forged and uttered by lips tainted with possible uncertainties and insincerities left a feeling of abandonment in its wake. It pierces his heart, digging into the crevices of his forgotten memories with that whisper of, what if? So as he stands at the crossroad of whether he should grasp that ambiguity, he finds himself back at the bar, sitting at the same place with the same drink in his hands, realizing he doesn’t even know the bartender’s name from the night before.
SeHun sighs, staring at the bright orange of the cocktail in his hands. It tasted different today, reminding him of bitter smiles and coy laughter instead of the fruity passion and sweet hints of invitation. It was probably due to the fact that it was a different bartender who made it. He scans the crowded pub, much different from the vacant emptiness of yesterday night, and drowns his glass.
“Looks like you enjoy Sex on the Beach?”
SeHun coughs, wiping the trail that slips past his lips. His cheeks flush as he swivels in his chair, the adulterated comment leaving him temporarily speechless as he comes face to face with a pair of familiar eyes. “Pardon?” he stutters, heat rising as he watches the lips curl into an amused smile.
“The drink,” the bartender from last night motions, “do you like it?” Black eyes twinkle with mirth, taking in SeHun’s rising embarrassment with a grin.
SeHun nods, biting his bottom lip as he sinks away the escalating mortification. His eyes roam the sharp contours of the man, blinking in wonder as he thinks that the man seemed to have gotten even more handsome; if that was even possible. As a pregnant silence fills between them, the band music of the pub droning the awkwardness, SeHun internally fidgets; eyes constantly flickering to the man by his side and to the front doors. That same feeling of the need to escape the striking presence of this stranger was still there.
“By the way, I didn’t catch your name the other day,” SeHun hears, the voice velvet smooth against his ears.
“Then wouldn’t it be customary to introduce yourself first before asking for my name?” SeHun counters, drawing a calm breath before turning in his seat. The onyx crystals of the man’s eyes catch the dim lights of the bar, reflecting a vague spark of mischievous curiosity.
“Jongin,” the man says, “part-time bartender, part-time student, with a hint of a dancer,” he winks, stretching out his hand; delicate fingers splayed, “at your service.”
“SeHun,” he replies, hesitating slightly as his mind races for words. The syllables of what, who, he really was, coils around his tongue, refusing to be vocalized. So he opts for the simple description of himself, “currently unemployed.” He takes the hand, hiding a startled jolt as fingers brush over his skin in a way that made his stomach churn and breath catch.
“You’re really pale,” Jongin comments, suddenly lifting SeHun’s hand closer to the lights. SeHun watches warily as Jongin’s eyes trace the contrasting difference between their skin tones; rich gold against pale white. SeHun clears his throat, pulling his hand back just as he feels Jongin brush a thumb over his knuckles.
“I don’t get out much,” SeHun says, licking his lips. Whether it was the effects of the alcohol or the presence of Jongin, SeHun didn’t know. But no matter how many times he tries to forgo the constant knock at the door of his memories, a jarring sensation of disgruntled agony and loneliness, with one look into Jongin’s meticulous gaze had him reeling back to the confinements of uncertainty; just what if.
With a bite of his lips, SeHun abruptly gets to his feet, not sparing Jongin a glance as he stares straight ahead. “I better get going, it’s getting late.”
“It’s only ten,” Jongin chuckles, amused.
SeHun gently shrugs, nodding his head at the man before turning on his heels; purposely avoiding to look at the face. “I work tomorrow night,” he hears Jongin call, “come by if you want Sex on the Beach again, Jongin style!”
SeHun doesn’t need to look or pause in his hurriedly strides to know that stunning smile stretched the corners of Jongin’s lips; pulling back to reveal a row of white pearls. He lets the quiet chuckles, low and rough, echo behind him, ignoring the few odd stares as he rushes outside.
He let’s out a heavy breath, inhaling the smell of the late night air as it burns his raw throat and clears his intoxicated mind. Wading in deep waters, SeHun’s mind reels in thought, the foremost being, just who is Jongin?
Tuesday
As the following the night rolls around, SeHun finds himself idling near the pub doors, hands carelessly rubbing against the jean of his pants in anxious repetition. He wonders if Jongin is there, waiting for SeHun to sit at the spot of the bar to order the cocktail, Sex on the Beach. Or has he forgotten about him already. The moment being a mere fleeting thought, a spark of his existence where he carelessly threw words and befriended another stranger with a face. Decidedly, with much argue of his conscious, SeHun steps foot into the pub for the third night in a row, keeping himself hidden at the back, near the doors so he can make a quick escape when needed; for what reason however, he didn’t know.
Just a gut feeling, he thinks, licking his lips as he scans the bar from the shadows. He immediately catches Jongin’s tall stature; lean body dressed in black like the first night they met. He is smiling, a warm curvature that lit the patrons with an equally fuzzy feeling. SeHun eyes the empty seat near where Jongin stood on the other side of the bar, his seat, and hesitates to approach. He continues watch as Jongin’s smile slowly fades, eyes searching the crowd of the pub as his hands aimlessly wipe the counter.
He can’t be looking for me, can he? SeHun thinks, unnerved. The sudden bloom of a breath strangling heat engulfs all rational thought, rendering him lost and staring at Jongin’s slightly crestfallen expression. A roaring laughter from a table near where he stood breaks his trance, unbinding his limbs as he turns his back on the bar, on Jongin and his sunset cocktail, and breaks out into a jog while exiting the building; heart and mind wavering and lost in misperception.
Humans were odd creatures, able to love and hate something within a blink of an eye. The attraction, the adoration, the sense of responsibility and need, the want of comfort and warmth; it all led to infatuated kisses and protective embraces. But through what network, what synapses of desire and absolute demands, does one draw the line of being “in too deep”?
SeHun's thoughts weave themselves around his head, fabricating a web of mindless truth and lies. The night, young and cold, carries shadows of the dark that leaves his imagination to wander. He continues to walk down a path forged by his memories; invisible fingers ghosting over pages of forgotten words. The wrench of isolation pegs him with an air of indifference and separation. He didn’t feel the need of such trivial human emotions, but the more he thinks of Jongin, with his rich voice and smooth features, it hinders SeHun’s resolve; the words what if consistently knocking.
Wednesday
It’s in the canned foods aisle that SeHun runs into Jongin that morning. Under the florescent lights of the store SeHun could clearly see Jongin in his radiating allure, lush tanned skin warm and golden under a white shirt and jeans, a completely different charm than to the constant black SeHun was accustomed to.
They both pause, each holding a grocery basket, and silently stare at each other, processing the unexpected encounter by the canned beans and tomatoes. Jongin is the first to break open into a friendly smile, walking over with a new light in his eyes.
“A little early for grocery shopping don’t you think?” Jongin comments, motioning to SeHun’s half-full basket. A variety of vegetables, fruits and bread filled the plastic holder.
“Speak for yourself,” SeHun replies, recovering from the initial surprise. He also hated himself for liking how Jongin looked so clean and refined in just a simple outfit.
“My dorm mates were complaining about how there weren’t enough food around,” Jongin says. He reaches over for a can of spicy beans in the passing. “Do you live by yourself?” he asks nonchalantly, curious eyes turning to SeHun in question.
SeHun nods, similarly reaching over for a can of assorted fruits. They walk towards the cashier together in a, what SeHun thought, comfortable silence. It’s when they’re both outside the store, hands full with grocery bags, that Jongin turns to him once more.
“Are you free today?”
SeHun, caught off guard, licks his lips in feverish thought, the question being so open ended yet underlying a single meaning. He notices Jongin’s hopeful glint and wavers even more on his answer, unsure of what would come next if he were to answer truthfully. But as he hesitates to answer, he realizes a shadow of disappointment has fallen over those black eyes.
“If you’re not, you can say so.” Jongin offers a grin, to which, in SeHun’s eyes, looks a tad blue, “I was merely curious.”
SeHun wasn’t sure what made him reach out, fingers barely pinching the hem of Jongin’s shirt, but when he thinks back on it, it was that crestfallen look; the dejected downcast of the eyes and lips. The image was identical to the night where SeHun deserted Jongin’s cocktail.
“Let me-” SeHun starts, quickly pulling his fingers back as he realizes his actions. “Let me go put these away,” he says, shifting the bags in his hands, “I’m not doing anything today, unemployed remember?” He smiles sheepishly, watching carefully at how Jongin’s gaze lightens up at his words. He was beginning to like the simplicity of the man’s eyes. Although being hazy with black, the emotions that reflected through the orbs were genuine and real.
___
“You do realize it’s autumn, right?” SeHun murmurs, raising an eyebrow as he takes the ice cream cone.
Jongin shrugs, quirking his lips as he licks his own, tongue darting out to scoop along the sweet chocolate. “What better time to enjoy one?” he says, taking the seat next to SeHun on the bench. “I got you vanilla because I wasn’t sure what you would like. Vanilla’s a pretty general favorite, right?”
SeHun slowly nods, licking away at his cone in silence. The day was still early, but neither minded the crisp morning air. Occasionally sneaking glances to his side, SeHun mindlessly probes at his ice cream in lost thought. Maybe he was just reading too much into the moment; from the distance they sat apart, to the subtle shift of Jongin’s legs, even the way Jongin licked at his ice cream, it all made SeHun’s mind reel in thought and possibilities.
“It’s dripping,” Jongin says, nudging SeHun’s arm.
“What?” SeHun mutters, jolting when he realizes the trail of vanilla from the cone down his hand. Just as he reaches for a handkerchief in his pocket, Jongin promptly leans forward, slim fingers wrapping themselves around SeHun’s forearm with a stable grip as he licks at the vanilla. SeHun’s jaw goes slack, lips parted in surprise as he feels the tender touch of a warm tongue against his hand; eyes trained on the back of Jongin’s head. His cheeks flush crimson as Jongin brushes a thumb over his arm, withdrawing back while licking at his bottom lip with a knowing grin.
“It’s going to melt if you don’t finish that quick,” Jongin comments, returning to his own ice cream.
SeHun inhales a shuddering breath, bottom lip trembling slightly as his eyes dart away from Jongin’s glowing expression. The place where Jongin touched, licked, burned his skin; a flash of a warning yellow throwing caution to his mind. However, SeHun shakes away the feeling and resumes eating away, the cool touch of the sweet vanilla calming his shaken heart. His cheeks were alarmingly warm as he cautiously chances a glance towards the man beside him. He almost drops his cone when he meets Jongin’s eyes.
“What?” SeHun murmurs, fumbling with his ice cream before bringing the back of his hand to wipe at his lips. He tenses when the faint scent of chocolate fills his nose; his stomach twisting with a mix of excitement and panic.
“Do you want to walk and talk?” Jongin offers, eyes curving up into a smile as he motions to rise.
In SeHun’s eyes, the boy was nothing but smiles and a lingering scent of cheap cologne. Someone who studied with a pen in hand during the day, but mixed Sex on the Beach while throwing flirtatious jokes by night. A self-proclaimed dancer who has a way with his words and people; the type of person SeHun shouldn’t be associating himself with.
And even with all that, SeHun couldn’t find it in himself to pull away: to resist the temptation in the form of Jongin. Call him weak, but as he gets to his feet, patting the back of his pants while continually licking at his ice cream in mindless thought, the wall he had vigilantly built around himself from people like him begins to crumble.
“Watch your-“
SeHun catches the toe of his shoe in a crack of the sidewalk before Jongin could finish his sentence. The vanilla ice cream drops to the ground, painting the gray of the cement with a cool shade of beige.
“Do you want me to get you another one?” Jongin proposes, “or do you want some of mine?”
SeHun grins, shaking his head. “No, it’s alright.”
Jongin shrugs, commenting something about living quality in the apartments near here.
SeHun nods along, mind elsewhere as he looks back to the fallen ice cream cone; starkly contrasting the bore of the sidewalk floor. It felt as if he threw something else along with it, a part of his broken barrier that he kept up around his human emotions. He opts to smile at the damage though, looking into Jongin’s face and how his eyes scrunch up in the corners when he laughs.
SeHun hated vanilla anyways.
Thursday
“You don’t usually drink with strangers, do you?” Jongin muses, casually holding onto the beer bottle between two digits while leaning back on the edge of the sofa.
“What makes you think that?” SeHun leers, eyebrow quirking as he pulls out his lips in a daring pout. He wasn’t quite drunk, tipsy maybe, but not drunk.
Jongin smirks, an unreadable twinkle marring the black of his eyes. “You’re totally sprawled open.”
SeHun immediately pulls in his legs, narrowing his eyes as he swings his bottle to his lips. After meaningless hours of conversing and walking around the park under the midday sun, Jongin had somehow persuaded SeHun to visit him the following night; inviting him for a night of free drinks and aimless talk.
“My dorm mates are gone camping,” the man had said, lips tilted in that angled smile, “you’re to free come by if you want.”
SeHun had thrown all caution to the wind, ignoring that every constant gut instinct and toying with the idea of being alone in a confine space with Jongin; a stranger who was not so much a stranger anymore. I’ve been to hell and back, SeHun muses, the literal meaning weaved behind the fictional thought. His intoxicated mind twirls with possibilities of what the night air could stir in a human man, what could Jongin offer to me that would damage my already lifeless heart? He drains the rest of his alcohol, tongue searching for the very last drop.
“Hey,” Jongin whispers, eyes flickering up from where his fingers trailed along the rough carpet, “are you with anyone?”
SeHun doesn’t hide his obvious snort, smoldering a laugh when Jongin frowns at him. “Sorry,” he wheezes, head thrown back to rest against the wall behind him, “the question was funny.”
“Hilarious,” Jongin mutters, lips drawn into a thin line.
SeHun grins, eyes closed as he fiddles with the rumbling tone of Jongin’s voice. The man always hit a specific note when he was obviously disheartened and crestfallen, and SeHun found it odd that he was attracted to such a sound, but he was beginning to understand that he was an odd man in general.
“No,” he murmurs, blinking his eyes open and shifting in his seat, “I’m single.” SeHun catches the spark that illuminates the shadows of Jongin’s handsome face. I’ve always been single, he recollects, putting the empty bottle with the cluster of other bottles beside him.
“Want to have sex?”
SeHun almost falls flat on his face, eyebrow raised in question to the honest expression of Jongin’s eyes and the erogenous comment. “With who?” SeHun says, voice caught between being playful and wary.
“With me, of course,” Jongin smirks, head tilting to the side and resting against the curve of his shoulder. “It’s an open invitation, you’re free to decline.”
SeHun clears his drying throat, rubbing his suddenly warming hands on his pants. By the time his mind processes what the feelings that washed over him were, his body was already moving, crawling over the short space of the living room carpet that separated himself and the lithe, awaiting body.
Jongin was at a cross of being aroused and amused as SeHun pushes at his chest, claiming a seat on top of his lap. He stares up at the hooded eyes, trailing his gaze down the past the parted lips to the loose shirt that exposed a little more of SeHun’s porcelain skin to keep his imagination running wild.
“By no means is this Sex on the Beach,” Jongin chuckles, fingers finding their way to SeHun’s hips, “but I’m sure you’ll find a liking to it anyhow.” He grins, enjoying the way SeHun’s eyes curve into crescents when the man smiles, which wasn’t often from what Jongin has observed.
Lips capture lips in a slow kiss, Jongin threading his fingers through SeHun’s hair as SeHun, in turn, cups Jongin’s jaw; thumb brushing the soft cheek. The warmth enticed the two, grabbing hold of their cores and blanketing it with a feral lust, a climax of escalating frustration and need.
SeHun never thought this would’ve been possible, for these feelings of demoralizing yearning to awaken in him. The dormant box of cold swept emotions flourished with heat and desire, the overwhelming gaze of greed swallowing his morals and sense of reality as hot fingers caressed and tugged at his body. He felt the shackles of human hunger bind themselves around his awakening mind, clustering his thoughts with nothing but the urgent calls of more, more, more.
“Shirt, off,” Jongin grunts, dark eyes swallowed with desire as he peels SeHun’s and his shirt away. He tugs, rougher than before, at SeHun’s hair, pulling the dazed man for another kiss.
SeHun moans as a tongue runs along his lips, etching a flavor of alcohol and something entirely Jongin into the crevices of his mouth. He runs his hands down Jongin’s arms, gripping the skin with bruising fingers as he surges forward, pale skin flush against the golden tan. SeHun gasps with parted lips when Jongin pulls away, only to attach his lips to the collarbones; fluttering kisses upon the pale skin and marring the complexion red.
The belief SeHun had continued to hold near his heart even when he was demoted, fell to pieces; everything he had stood for, his integrity, his faith, it all disappeared into the shadows of his mind, shoved into a crevice of his memories and forgotten thoughts. He was all an unmarred canvas that was slowly engulfed by flames of perpetual lust; lips touching and satisfying the spreading desire that replaced his values.
So as Jongin rolls SeHun up onto the sofa, hand toying with the buckle of the belt while hovering over the flushed male, Jongin lets out a breathy laugh; planting kisses all along SeHun’s chest as he takes off the pants, eyes tracing the parted lips and disheveled hair. From the light hue of SeHun’s skin to the bashful glances and pretty blush, Jongin couldn’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the being under him. Every fiber of his body convulsed, urging him to devour the ethereal creature just within his reach.
“My, aren’t you a beauty for sore eyes,” Jongin whispers, fingers flitting over SeHun’s navel in a teasing manner. “You look like an angel,” he chuckles. The boy under him jerks as a keen whine echoes the heated air.
The suffocation of the ache, where commitment of the heart and mind grew, overruled all rational judgment, left SeHun in a state of urgency. He reaches up and grasps the back of Jongin’s neck, clashing their lips and teeth into a painful kiss of nips and bites.
Jongin draws back to realize, with a haggard breath, that his lip was bleeding. He growls deep in his throat, chest rumbling as his dark skin ripples with anticipation. He reaches down, hands ghosting over a sensitive patch of skin, smirking as he watches SeHun gasp and whimper.
And as the night grows longer, the moon casting shadows into the room reverberating with hot want, the pace of their progression quickens, reaching that anticipated climax. It was a rhythm of desire and faded loneliness, fingers brushing over old wounds, as that beat flowed from one body to the other in a harmonious tune.
So it isn’t until later, when they end up in Jongin’s bed, chests rising against sweaty skin with satisfaction, that Jongin turns over to stare at SeHun questioningly, face shrouded by the dark.
“Why do you have those scars on your back?”
SeHun tenses, breath catching in his throat for the slightest moment before he rustles under the sheets, bare body sensitive against the rough fabric. The blemish that ran along both his shoulder blades throbs at the mention.
“Battle scars from when I was a child,” SeHun murmurs, “fell off the playground.”
The bed trembles as Jongin’s soft chuckles echo throughout the room. “I see,” he yawns, throwing an arm across SeHun’s torso and pulling them closer together. “Stay with me,” he whispers against SeHun’s ear, placing a gentle kiss against the jaw. He falls asleep like that, nose buried against SeHun’s hair as his arm drapes over SeHun’s body, as if caging him from escape.
Lying awake, the soft snores of Jongin’s restless body brushing against him, SeHun stares at the outline of the ceiling in thought. Who is to blame for their encountered fate? Or is it all a simple turn of coincidences that lead them astray? Away from their usual routes of forged longing, and weaving their threads together into a complex pattern filled with whispered nothings? Whichever it was, like a soft stroke of black ink against an empty canvas, names were exchanged along with gentle touches of warm fingers, filling an empty night with elated smiles and euphoric sighs.
But SeHun’s reality came crashing around him, whispers of spoken words forged and uttered by lips tainted with red sin and greedy hunger. This isn’t the existence he was allowed to live, not by the laws he was to abide for the rest of his human life. So as he carefully rises, pale body reflecting the moon’s glowing cast, he gets to his feet and watches Jongin’s sleeping form. He notes the long lashes that brush over the tanned hue of the cheeks, the bare chest with its strong muscles relaxed in his state of slumber, and how his face was just a picture of human innocence.
Stay with me…
SeHun felt the tug of want, of snuggling back into the captive embrace of those arms, and to sleep away the lingering feelings of restraint. But he didn’t want to wrong Jongin, for this was not his place to stay. With quiet steps, SeHun tears his gaze away, biting his bottom lip and gathering his clothes, forcing himself to not look back. It isn’t until he’s out into the open night air, hands digging into his pockets, that his eyes involuntarily water, fresh tears pooling at the edge of his lashes.
If Jongin didn’t mention the scars on SeHun’s back, a memoir of who he used to be and why he is who he is today, SeHun thinks that he would’ve carelessly stayed in the protective encirclement of Jongin’s warmth. He smiles bitterly as he takes long strides, carrying himself and his heavy heart further away from the fleeting heat of ecstasy, leaving behind nothing but forgotten beer bottles.
Friday
SeHun doesn’t visit Jongin the following evening. Instead, he heads over the other side of town; away from the park, the apartments, and man himself. It was the busiest time of the week, the end of the working days and beginning of drunken parties and careless laughter. He sits himself in the furthest corner, away from the lights and people, the broken speaker being his only companion.
His mind wanders from past reflections to present thoughts, comparing and contrasting the difference and similarities of his trembling emotions in a monochromatic picture of before and after. He remembers the day of his relegation, how the sky looked so hateful and scorning as he spat profanities into the faces of whom he thought were his comrades. Later, as red burned into the corners of his vision and pain contorted his body, he reflects how his downgrade into a human, a being with intricate webs of lies, mockery and brute honesty, has made him more solid, more aware of his feelings, and yet able to keep a safe distance from others.
Once a fallen; always a fallen.
SeHun’s shoulder aches in memory, his brow twitching as he runs a tired hand through his hair. He touches a kiss mark on the inside of his elbow, gaze softening as he remembers the night before, the heat still vividly clear and real. But with a bat of his lashes, he scratches at the blemish, desperately wanting for this feeling of selfish want to disappear.
Human emotions were something he still had no clear grasp of. With a definite sigh, he rises to head over to the bar, sitting himself down and staring at the unfamiliar face of the balding bartender. He orders a Gin and Tonic that night, drowning away the lingering desire of Jongin’s skin and his sunset Sex on the Beach with an intoxicated mind.
Saturday
Angels need warmth SeHun, without it, we don’t just perish, we turn to dust.
How many times has he heard the higher archangels scold him of that foreboding rule? Plenty to keep him aware, but not enough to keep him reminded.
He lies awake on his bed the entire day, watching as the sun rises and sets as he counts the hours by the seconds. He also waits for the drilling headache to disappear; he’s been drinking too much for his own good. However, no matter how bad the drunkenness of his mind was, it kept wading into the depths of the deep waters, diving below into the bottomless dark in search for that warmth.
Jongin.
Bringing the back of his hand to shield his eyes, hoping the cover of darkness behind the white webs of his eyelids would drown the emotions that crashed against him, SeHun lets out a shuddering breath. He curls in on himself, fingers digging into his arms as he shuts away from the world, wanting to bear with the pain of having his wings torn from him again than to go through this agony of trying to forget.
As the first tear slides past his eyes, dropping onto the fabric of his bed sheets and marking the white with remnants of what he tried to hold dear to his heart, SeHun finally lets it all go, letting the rest of the what if’s and bittersweet Sex on the Beach to wither away.
For the first time in his existence, he cries himself to sleep; all over a single human being that tugged at his heartstrings and roused the nostalgic sentiments of his human endeavor.
Sunday
He quietly stirs that morning with the sun, opening the curtains with a rub of his eyes as the golden reds and orange hues of the sun paints the sky. He leans his hip against the window frame, eyes scanning the cloudless sky with a dazed softness.
Sex on the Beach… I thought you could use a little color in you… Jongin, part-time bartender, part-time student, with a hint of a dancer… Vanilla’s a pretty general favorite, right?... Hey, are you with anyone?...
Want to have sex?
You look like an angel…
Why do you have those scars on your back?
Stay with me…
Closing his eyes, SeHun tries to surface past the waves of memories, Jongin’s voice drowning away in his ears as he winces at the throb; both of his head, chest, and shoulders. He had dreamt of white feathers and unbound wings before he roused, and wanting to preserve that special vision, he wills the last fragments of Jongin away, letting it shatter like a fragile work of glass.
Maybe it was the unearthly being that was still a part of his identity, but as he disregards the human emotions that begs him to turn back, to embrace those arms once more and seek forgiveness for another sin, SeHun shuns it all and raises his head a little higher.
Just like the sun, where it waits for its rise and fall of every new day, watching over the colonized humans with a patient eye, SeHun still remembers the bittersweet taste of the cocktail, a poignant flavor that pierces his taste buds, and decides that it was enough to hold onto.
It would merely be another memory faded into his already painful past.
Once a fallen; always a fallen.
-end
Pairing: Jongin / SeHun
Rating: R
Word Count: 5,800
Summary: it only takes seven days to fall in and out of love.
a/n: my runandgun entry for xxbbq. original post here.
Sunday
SeHun kisses the glass, tilting the cup against his lips as he drowns the bittersweet content. Placing the cup down and scanning the bar from his seat, SeHun takes in the familiar colors of burgundy red against dark oak, eyes adjusting to the dim lights of the pub. Sunday nights, he concludes, are always slow due to the simple fact that Monday came the next morning: the end of one working week and the beginning of another. SeHun imagines those people as ants, dressed uniformly in their monochromatic fashion as they work under a single rule where no mistakes are allowed. It’s a rinse and repeat cycle that SeHun never truly had a heart, nor mind, to understand. He just doesn’t see the light of mid-afternoon smoke breaks and slaving over a desk for hours on a meager salary, only to be devoured in places such as this. But life itself, be it in or outside the colony of black and white, is all a fabrication of truth and lies where ones imagination and failure forged their path to success.
SeHun blinks, staring dully at the empty cup in his hands as he wades in the depths of his own lonely existence. As his lips tilt down in lost thought, he jumps in his seat with a wordless gasp when a shadow suddenly looms over him from across the bar, words reaching his mind past the whisper of radio music in the background.
“Would you like another drink, sir?”
Composing himself, SeHun doesn’t think on it for long as he nods his head and hands over his glass, not even caring to spare a glance at the bartender. “Gin and tonic,” he murmurs, combing a lazy hand through his hair. His eyes drift towards the bartender in boredom, watching as the man steps off to the side and gathers his ingredients. The nameless stranger, with his finely proportionate body adorned with black, mixes the cocktail in silence. SeHun follows the curve of the fingers as they reach around the bottles, tracing the tension of the forearm as it wrestles the shaker. He sits up straighter in his seat, feeling suddenly aware of his surroundings, and couldn’t help but observe the bartender in admiration, eyes shifting between the skillful hands and the shrouded face. He blinks, a wave of nauseating infatuation striking him as he continues to shamelessly stare.
Tall, dark, and broodingly handsome; the bartender was new, and had an air of hidden contentment and mystery weaving around him like a Christmas present.
SeHun shifts his gaze away when the man turns, cocktail in hand. Mindlessly tapping his fingers on the counter, SeHun clears his throat and traces the outline of the ceiling as if it’s the most interesting thing he has ever seen.
“Here you are,” the man says, placing the cocktail with its delicate glass and colorful hue right in front of SeHun.
As he reaches for the cup, the words “thank you” gets caught in SeHun’s throat. He stares at his drink, frowning in confusion as the sunset tint throws him off.
“Either I’m unable to differentiate my colors, or this is not a Gin and Tonic,” SeHun states, quirking an eyebrow as he daringly looks up to the man, brow twitching as he catches a pleased grin.
“No,” the bartender muses, voice rich and deep like the ocean tides, “I thought you needed a little color in you, is all.” The man leans over the counter, elbows resting on the polished surface as his eyes curve up into a delighted smile.
Caught between disbelief and amusement, SeHun traces the dip and shadows of the man’s face, finding himself oddly attracted to the nameless stranger. He looks back to the drink, eyeing the bright shade of the orange-red tone, the bittersweet hue catching the light in an open invitation. Finding the situation unusual yet completely enjoyable, he pinches the straw between his fingers, stirring the drink in an attempt to hide his mild hilarity.
“Alright then,” he clears his throat, “what is this called?”
SeHun catches the Cheshire grin that blooms across a pair of lush lips, a grin that wordlessly gives away hidden meanings, intentional or not. That’s when SeHun should’ve known to turn away, to leave the bar, the eye-catching bartender, and the sunset colored drink behind him. But he stubbornly ignores the gut feeling, taking a tentative sip as that rich voice reassures him of that insecurity.
“It’s called,” the man drawls, throwing a flirtatious wink at SeHun before straightening up, “Sex on the Beach.”
SeHun almost chokes.
Monday
Was it fascination or infatuation that sparked his curiosity aflame? Mere words spoken with the tongue, forged and uttered by lips tainted with possible uncertainties and insincerities left a feeling of abandonment in its wake. It pierces his heart, digging into the crevices of his forgotten memories with that whisper of, what if? So as he stands at the crossroad of whether he should grasp that ambiguity, he finds himself back at the bar, sitting at the same place with the same drink in his hands, realizing he doesn’t even know the bartender’s name from the night before.
SeHun sighs, staring at the bright orange of the cocktail in his hands. It tasted different today, reminding him of bitter smiles and coy laughter instead of the fruity passion and sweet hints of invitation. It was probably due to the fact that it was a different bartender who made it. He scans the crowded pub, much different from the vacant emptiness of yesterday night, and drowns his glass.
“Looks like you enjoy Sex on the Beach?”
SeHun coughs, wiping the trail that slips past his lips. His cheeks flush as he swivels in his chair, the adulterated comment leaving him temporarily speechless as he comes face to face with a pair of familiar eyes. “Pardon?” he stutters, heat rising as he watches the lips curl into an amused smile.
“The drink,” the bartender from last night motions, “do you like it?” Black eyes twinkle with mirth, taking in SeHun’s rising embarrassment with a grin.
SeHun nods, biting his bottom lip as he sinks away the escalating mortification. His eyes roam the sharp contours of the man, blinking in wonder as he thinks that the man seemed to have gotten even more handsome; if that was even possible. As a pregnant silence fills between them, the band music of the pub droning the awkwardness, SeHun internally fidgets; eyes constantly flickering to the man by his side and to the front doors. That same feeling of the need to escape the striking presence of this stranger was still there.
“By the way, I didn’t catch your name the other day,” SeHun hears, the voice velvet smooth against his ears.
“Then wouldn’t it be customary to introduce yourself first before asking for my name?” SeHun counters, drawing a calm breath before turning in his seat. The onyx crystals of the man’s eyes catch the dim lights of the bar, reflecting a vague spark of mischievous curiosity.
“Jongin,” the man says, “part-time bartender, part-time student, with a hint of a dancer,” he winks, stretching out his hand; delicate fingers splayed, “at your service.”
“SeHun,” he replies, hesitating slightly as his mind races for words. The syllables of what, who, he really was, coils around his tongue, refusing to be vocalized. So he opts for the simple description of himself, “currently unemployed.” He takes the hand, hiding a startled jolt as fingers brush over his skin in a way that made his stomach churn and breath catch.
“You’re really pale,” Jongin comments, suddenly lifting SeHun’s hand closer to the lights. SeHun watches warily as Jongin’s eyes trace the contrasting difference between their skin tones; rich gold against pale white. SeHun clears his throat, pulling his hand back just as he feels Jongin brush a thumb over his knuckles.
“I don’t get out much,” SeHun says, licking his lips. Whether it was the effects of the alcohol or the presence of Jongin, SeHun didn’t know. But no matter how many times he tries to forgo the constant knock at the door of his memories, a jarring sensation of disgruntled agony and loneliness, with one look into Jongin’s meticulous gaze had him reeling back to the confinements of uncertainty; just what if.
With a bite of his lips, SeHun abruptly gets to his feet, not sparing Jongin a glance as he stares straight ahead. “I better get going, it’s getting late.”
“It’s only ten,” Jongin chuckles, amused.
SeHun gently shrugs, nodding his head at the man before turning on his heels; purposely avoiding to look at the face. “I work tomorrow night,” he hears Jongin call, “come by if you want Sex on the Beach again, Jongin style!”
SeHun doesn’t need to look or pause in his hurriedly strides to know that stunning smile stretched the corners of Jongin’s lips; pulling back to reveal a row of white pearls. He lets the quiet chuckles, low and rough, echo behind him, ignoring the few odd stares as he rushes outside.
He let’s out a heavy breath, inhaling the smell of the late night air as it burns his raw throat and clears his intoxicated mind. Wading in deep waters, SeHun’s mind reels in thought, the foremost being, just who is Jongin?
Tuesday
As the following the night rolls around, SeHun finds himself idling near the pub doors, hands carelessly rubbing against the jean of his pants in anxious repetition. He wonders if Jongin is there, waiting for SeHun to sit at the spot of the bar to order the cocktail, Sex on the Beach. Or has he forgotten about him already. The moment being a mere fleeting thought, a spark of his existence where he carelessly threw words and befriended another stranger with a face. Decidedly, with much argue of his conscious, SeHun steps foot into the pub for the third night in a row, keeping himself hidden at the back, near the doors so he can make a quick escape when needed; for what reason however, he didn’t know.
Just a gut feeling, he thinks, licking his lips as he scans the bar from the shadows. He immediately catches Jongin’s tall stature; lean body dressed in black like the first night they met. He is smiling, a warm curvature that lit the patrons with an equally fuzzy feeling. SeHun eyes the empty seat near where Jongin stood on the other side of the bar, his seat, and hesitates to approach. He continues watch as Jongin’s smile slowly fades, eyes searching the crowd of the pub as his hands aimlessly wipe the counter.
He can’t be looking for me, can he? SeHun thinks, unnerved. The sudden bloom of a breath strangling heat engulfs all rational thought, rendering him lost and staring at Jongin’s slightly crestfallen expression. A roaring laughter from a table near where he stood breaks his trance, unbinding his limbs as he turns his back on the bar, on Jongin and his sunset cocktail, and breaks out into a jog while exiting the building; heart and mind wavering and lost in misperception.
Humans were odd creatures, able to love and hate something within a blink of an eye. The attraction, the adoration, the sense of responsibility and need, the want of comfort and warmth; it all led to infatuated kisses and protective embraces. But through what network, what synapses of desire and absolute demands, does one draw the line of being “in too deep”?
SeHun's thoughts weave themselves around his head, fabricating a web of mindless truth and lies. The night, young and cold, carries shadows of the dark that leaves his imagination to wander. He continues to walk down a path forged by his memories; invisible fingers ghosting over pages of forgotten words. The wrench of isolation pegs him with an air of indifference and separation. He didn’t feel the need of such trivial human emotions, but the more he thinks of Jongin, with his rich voice and smooth features, it hinders SeHun’s resolve; the words what if consistently knocking.
Wednesday
It’s in the canned foods aisle that SeHun runs into Jongin that morning. Under the florescent lights of the store SeHun could clearly see Jongin in his radiating allure, lush tanned skin warm and golden under a white shirt and jeans, a completely different charm than to the constant black SeHun was accustomed to.
They both pause, each holding a grocery basket, and silently stare at each other, processing the unexpected encounter by the canned beans and tomatoes. Jongin is the first to break open into a friendly smile, walking over with a new light in his eyes.
“A little early for grocery shopping don’t you think?” Jongin comments, motioning to SeHun’s half-full basket. A variety of vegetables, fruits and bread filled the plastic holder.
“Speak for yourself,” SeHun replies, recovering from the initial surprise. He also hated himself for liking how Jongin looked so clean and refined in just a simple outfit.
“My dorm mates were complaining about how there weren’t enough food around,” Jongin says. He reaches over for a can of spicy beans in the passing. “Do you live by yourself?” he asks nonchalantly, curious eyes turning to SeHun in question.
SeHun nods, similarly reaching over for a can of assorted fruits. They walk towards the cashier together in a, what SeHun thought, comfortable silence. It’s when they’re both outside the store, hands full with grocery bags, that Jongin turns to him once more.
“Are you free today?”
SeHun, caught off guard, licks his lips in feverish thought, the question being so open ended yet underlying a single meaning. He notices Jongin’s hopeful glint and wavers even more on his answer, unsure of what would come next if he were to answer truthfully. But as he hesitates to answer, he realizes a shadow of disappointment has fallen over those black eyes.
“If you’re not, you can say so.” Jongin offers a grin, to which, in SeHun’s eyes, looks a tad blue, “I was merely curious.”
SeHun wasn’t sure what made him reach out, fingers barely pinching the hem of Jongin’s shirt, but when he thinks back on it, it was that crestfallen look; the dejected downcast of the eyes and lips. The image was identical to the night where SeHun deserted Jongin’s cocktail.
“Let me-” SeHun starts, quickly pulling his fingers back as he realizes his actions. “Let me go put these away,” he says, shifting the bags in his hands, “I’m not doing anything today, unemployed remember?” He smiles sheepishly, watching carefully at how Jongin’s gaze lightens up at his words. He was beginning to like the simplicity of the man’s eyes. Although being hazy with black, the emotions that reflected through the orbs were genuine and real.
___
“You do realize it’s autumn, right?” SeHun murmurs, raising an eyebrow as he takes the ice cream cone.
Jongin shrugs, quirking his lips as he licks his own, tongue darting out to scoop along the sweet chocolate. “What better time to enjoy one?” he says, taking the seat next to SeHun on the bench. “I got you vanilla because I wasn’t sure what you would like. Vanilla’s a pretty general favorite, right?”
SeHun slowly nods, licking away at his cone in silence. The day was still early, but neither minded the crisp morning air. Occasionally sneaking glances to his side, SeHun mindlessly probes at his ice cream in lost thought. Maybe he was just reading too much into the moment; from the distance they sat apart, to the subtle shift of Jongin’s legs, even the way Jongin licked at his ice cream, it all made SeHun’s mind reel in thought and possibilities.
“It’s dripping,” Jongin says, nudging SeHun’s arm.
“What?” SeHun mutters, jolting when he realizes the trail of vanilla from the cone down his hand. Just as he reaches for a handkerchief in his pocket, Jongin promptly leans forward, slim fingers wrapping themselves around SeHun’s forearm with a stable grip as he licks at the vanilla. SeHun’s jaw goes slack, lips parted in surprise as he feels the tender touch of a warm tongue against his hand; eyes trained on the back of Jongin’s head. His cheeks flush crimson as Jongin brushes a thumb over his arm, withdrawing back while licking at his bottom lip with a knowing grin.
“It’s going to melt if you don’t finish that quick,” Jongin comments, returning to his own ice cream.
SeHun inhales a shuddering breath, bottom lip trembling slightly as his eyes dart away from Jongin’s glowing expression. The place where Jongin touched, licked, burned his skin; a flash of a warning yellow throwing caution to his mind. However, SeHun shakes away the feeling and resumes eating away, the cool touch of the sweet vanilla calming his shaken heart. His cheeks were alarmingly warm as he cautiously chances a glance towards the man beside him. He almost drops his cone when he meets Jongin’s eyes.
“What?” SeHun murmurs, fumbling with his ice cream before bringing the back of his hand to wipe at his lips. He tenses when the faint scent of chocolate fills his nose; his stomach twisting with a mix of excitement and panic.
“Do you want to walk and talk?” Jongin offers, eyes curving up into a smile as he motions to rise.
In SeHun’s eyes, the boy was nothing but smiles and a lingering scent of cheap cologne. Someone who studied with a pen in hand during the day, but mixed Sex on the Beach while throwing flirtatious jokes by night. A self-proclaimed dancer who has a way with his words and people; the type of person SeHun shouldn’t be associating himself with.
And even with all that, SeHun couldn’t find it in himself to pull away: to resist the temptation in the form of Jongin. Call him weak, but as he gets to his feet, patting the back of his pants while continually licking at his ice cream in mindless thought, the wall he had vigilantly built around himself from people like him begins to crumble.
“Watch your-“
SeHun catches the toe of his shoe in a crack of the sidewalk before Jongin could finish his sentence. The vanilla ice cream drops to the ground, painting the gray of the cement with a cool shade of beige.
“Do you want me to get you another one?” Jongin proposes, “or do you want some of mine?”
SeHun grins, shaking his head. “No, it’s alright.”
Jongin shrugs, commenting something about living quality in the apartments near here.
SeHun nods along, mind elsewhere as he looks back to the fallen ice cream cone; starkly contrasting the bore of the sidewalk floor. It felt as if he threw something else along with it, a part of his broken barrier that he kept up around his human emotions. He opts to smile at the damage though, looking into Jongin’s face and how his eyes scrunch up in the corners when he laughs.
SeHun hated vanilla anyways.
Thursday
“You don’t usually drink with strangers, do you?” Jongin muses, casually holding onto the beer bottle between two digits while leaning back on the edge of the sofa.
“What makes you think that?” SeHun leers, eyebrow quirking as he pulls out his lips in a daring pout. He wasn’t quite drunk, tipsy maybe, but not drunk.
Jongin smirks, an unreadable twinkle marring the black of his eyes. “You’re totally sprawled open.”
SeHun immediately pulls in his legs, narrowing his eyes as he swings his bottle to his lips. After meaningless hours of conversing and walking around the park under the midday sun, Jongin had somehow persuaded SeHun to visit him the following night; inviting him for a night of free drinks and aimless talk.
“My dorm mates are gone camping,” the man had said, lips tilted in that angled smile, “you’re to free come by if you want.”
SeHun had thrown all caution to the wind, ignoring that every constant gut instinct and toying with the idea of being alone in a confine space with Jongin; a stranger who was not so much a stranger anymore. I’ve been to hell and back, SeHun muses, the literal meaning weaved behind the fictional thought. His intoxicated mind twirls with possibilities of what the night air could stir in a human man, what could Jongin offer to me that would damage my already lifeless heart? He drains the rest of his alcohol, tongue searching for the very last drop.
“Hey,” Jongin whispers, eyes flickering up from where his fingers trailed along the rough carpet, “are you with anyone?”
SeHun doesn’t hide his obvious snort, smoldering a laugh when Jongin frowns at him. “Sorry,” he wheezes, head thrown back to rest against the wall behind him, “the question was funny.”
“Hilarious,” Jongin mutters, lips drawn into a thin line.
SeHun grins, eyes closed as he fiddles with the rumbling tone of Jongin’s voice. The man always hit a specific note when he was obviously disheartened and crestfallen, and SeHun found it odd that he was attracted to such a sound, but he was beginning to understand that he was an odd man in general.
“No,” he murmurs, blinking his eyes open and shifting in his seat, “I’m single.” SeHun catches the spark that illuminates the shadows of Jongin’s handsome face. I’ve always been single, he recollects, putting the empty bottle with the cluster of other bottles beside him.
“Want to have sex?”
SeHun almost falls flat on his face, eyebrow raised in question to the honest expression of Jongin’s eyes and the erogenous comment. “With who?” SeHun says, voice caught between being playful and wary.
“With me, of course,” Jongin smirks, head tilting to the side and resting against the curve of his shoulder. “It’s an open invitation, you’re free to decline.”
SeHun clears his drying throat, rubbing his suddenly warming hands on his pants. By the time his mind processes what the feelings that washed over him were, his body was already moving, crawling over the short space of the living room carpet that separated himself and the lithe, awaiting body.
Jongin was at a cross of being aroused and amused as SeHun pushes at his chest, claiming a seat on top of his lap. He stares up at the hooded eyes, trailing his gaze down the past the parted lips to the loose shirt that exposed a little more of SeHun’s porcelain skin to keep his imagination running wild.
“By no means is this Sex on the Beach,” Jongin chuckles, fingers finding their way to SeHun’s hips, “but I’m sure you’ll find a liking to it anyhow.” He grins, enjoying the way SeHun’s eyes curve into crescents when the man smiles, which wasn’t often from what Jongin has observed.
Lips capture lips in a slow kiss, Jongin threading his fingers through SeHun’s hair as SeHun, in turn, cups Jongin’s jaw; thumb brushing the soft cheek. The warmth enticed the two, grabbing hold of their cores and blanketing it with a feral lust, a climax of escalating frustration and need.
SeHun never thought this would’ve been possible, for these feelings of demoralizing yearning to awaken in him. The dormant box of cold swept emotions flourished with heat and desire, the overwhelming gaze of greed swallowing his morals and sense of reality as hot fingers caressed and tugged at his body. He felt the shackles of human hunger bind themselves around his awakening mind, clustering his thoughts with nothing but the urgent calls of more, more, more.
“Shirt, off,” Jongin grunts, dark eyes swallowed with desire as he peels SeHun’s and his shirt away. He tugs, rougher than before, at SeHun’s hair, pulling the dazed man for another kiss.
SeHun moans as a tongue runs along his lips, etching a flavor of alcohol and something entirely Jongin into the crevices of his mouth. He runs his hands down Jongin’s arms, gripping the skin with bruising fingers as he surges forward, pale skin flush against the golden tan. SeHun gasps with parted lips when Jongin pulls away, only to attach his lips to the collarbones; fluttering kisses upon the pale skin and marring the complexion red.
The belief SeHun had continued to hold near his heart even when he was demoted, fell to pieces; everything he had stood for, his integrity, his faith, it all disappeared into the shadows of his mind, shoved into a crevice of his memories and forgotten thoughts. He was all an unmarred canvas that was slowly engulfed by flames of perpetual lust; lips touching and satisfying the spreading desire that replaced his values.
So as Jongin rolls SeHun up onto the sofa, hand toying with the buckle of the belt while hovering over the flushed male, Jongin lets out a breathy laugh; planting kisses all along SeHun’s chest as he takes off the pants, eyes tracing the parted lips and disheveled hair. From the light hue of SeHun’s skin to the bashful glances and pretty blush, Jongin couldn’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the being under him. Every fiber of his body convulsed, urging him to devour the ethereal creature just within his reach.
“My, aren’t you a beauty for sore eyes,” Jongin whispers, fingers flitting over SeHun’s navel in a teasing manner. “You look like an angel,” he chuckles. The boy under him jerks as a keen whine echoes the heated air.
The suffocation of the ache, where commitment of the heart and mind grew, overruled all rational judgment, left SeHun in a state of urgency. He reaches up and grasps the back of Jongin’s neck, clashing their lips and teeth into a painful kiss of nips and bites.
Jongin draws back to realize, with a haggard breath, that his lip was bleeding. He growls deep in his throat, chest rumbling as his dark skin ripples with anticipation. He reaches down, hands ghosting over a sensitive patch of skin, smirking as he watches SeHun gasp and whimper.
And as the night grows longer, the moon casting shadows into the room reverberating with hot want, the pace of their progression quickens, reaching that anticipated climax. It was a rhythm of desire and faded loneliness, fingers brushing over old wounds, as that beat flowed from one body to the other in a harmonious tune.
So it isn’t until later, when they end up in Jongin’s bed, chests rising against sweaty skin with satisfaction, that Jongin turns over to stare at SeHun questioningly, face shrouded by the dark.
“Why do you have those scars on your back?”
SeHun tenses, breath catching in his throat for the slightest moment before he rustles under the sheets, bare body sensitive against the rough fabric. The blemish that ran along both his shoulder blades throbs at the mention.
“Battle scars from when I was a child,” SeHun murmurs, “fell off the playground.”
The bed trembles as Jongin’s soft chuckles echo throughout the room. “I see,” he yawns, throwing an arm across SeHun’s torso and pulling them closer together. “Stay with me,” he whispers against SeHun’s ear, placing a gentle kiss against the jaw. He falls asleep like that, nose buried against SeHun’s hair as his arm drapes over SeHun’s body, as if caging him from escape.
Lying awake, the soft snores of Jongin’s restless body brushing against him, SeHun stares at the outline of the ceiling in thought. Who is to blame for their encountered fate? Or is it all a simple turn of coincidences that lead them astray? Away from their usual routes of forged longing, and weaving their threads together into a complex pattern filled with whispered nothings? Whichever it was, like a soft stroke of black ink against an empty canvas, names were exchanged along with gentle touches of warm fingers, filling an empty night with elated smiles and euphoric sighs.
But SeHun’s reality came crashing around him, whispers of spoken words forged and uttered by lips tainted with red sin and greedy hunger. This isn’t the existence he was allowed to live, not by the laws he was to abide for the rest of his human life. So as he carefully rises, pale body reflecting the moon’s glowing cast, he gets to his feet and watches Jongin’s sleeping form. He notes the long lashes that brush over the tanned hue of the cheeks, the bare chest with its strong muscles relaxed in his state of slumber, and how his face was just a picture of human innocence.
Stay with me…
SeHun felt the tug of want, of snuggling back into the captive embrace of those arms, and to sleep away the lingering feelings of restraint. But he didn’t want to wrong Jongin, for this was not his place to stay. With quiet steps, SeHun tears his gaze away, biting his bottom lip and gathering his clothes, forcing himself to not look back. It isn’t until he’s out into the open night air, hands digging into his pockets, that his eyes involuntarily water, fresh tears pooling at the edge of his lashes.
If Jongin didn’t mention the scars on SeHun’s back, a memoir of who he used to be and why he is who he is today, SeHun thinks that he would’ve carelessly stayed in the protective encirclement of Jongin’s warmth. He smiles bitterly as he takes long strides, carrying himself and his heavy heart further away from the fleeting heat of ecstasy, leaving behind nothing but forgotten beer bottles.
Friday
SeHun doesn’t visit Jongin the following evening. Instead, he heads over the other side of town; away from the park, the apartments, and man himself. It was the busiest time of the week, the end of the working days and beginning of drunken parties and careless laughter. He sits himself in the furthest corner, away from the lights and people, the broken speaker being his only companion.
His mind wanders from past reflections to present thoughts, comparing and contrasting the difference and similarities of his trembling emotions in a monochromatic picture of before and after. He remembers the day of his relegation, how the sky looked so hateful and scorning as he spat profanities into the faces of whom he thought were his comrades. Later, as red burned into the corners of his vision and pain contorted his body, he reflects how his downgrade into a human, a being with intricate webs of lies, mockery and brute honesty, has made him more solid, more aware of his feelings, and yet able to keep a safe distance from others.
Once a fallen; always a fallen.
SeHun’s shoulder aches in memory, his brow twitching as he runs a tired hand through his hair. He touches a kiss mark on the inside of his elbow, gaze softening as he remembers the night before, the heat still vividly clear and real. But with a bat of his lashes, he scratches at the blemish, desperately wanting for this feeling of selfish want to disappear.
Human emotions were something he still had no clear grasp of. With a definite sigh, he rises to head over to the bar, sitting himself down and staring at the unfamiliar face of the balding bartender. He orders a Gin and Tonic that night, drowning away the lingering desire of Jongin’s skin and his sunset Sex on the Beach with an intoxicated mind.
Saturday
Angels need warmth SeHun, without it, we don’t just perish, we turn to dust.
How many times has he heard the higher archangels scold him of that foreboding rule? Plenty to keep him aware, but not enough to keep him reminded.
He lies awake on his bed the entire day, watching as the sun rises and sets as he counts the hours by the seconds. He also waits for the drilling headache to disappear; he’s been drinking too much for his own good. However, no matter how bad the drunkenness of his mind was, it kept wading into the depths of the deep waters, diving below into the bottomless dark in search for that warmth.
Jongin.
Bringing the back of his hand to shield his eyes, hoping the cover of darkness behind the white webs of his eyelids would drown the emotions that crashed against him, SeHun lets out a shuddering breath. He curls in on himself, fingers digging into his arms as he shuts away from the world, wanting to bear with the pain of having his wings torn from him again than to go through this agony of trying to forget.
As the first tear slides past his eyes, dropping onto the fabric of his bed sheets and marking the white with remnants of what he tried to hold dear to his heart, SeHun finally lets it all go, letting the rest of the what if’s and bittersweet Sex on the Beach to wither away.
For the first time in his existence, he cries himself to sleep; all over a single human being that tugged at his heartstrings and roused the nostalgic sentiments of his human endeavor.
Sunday
He quietly stirs that morning with the sun, opening the curtains with a rub of his eyes as the golden reds and orange hues of the sun paints the sky. He leans his hip against the window frame, eyes scanning the cloudless sky with a dazed softness.
Sex on the Beach… I thought you could use a little color in you… Jongin, part-time bartender, part-time student, with a hint of a dancer… Vanilla’s a pretty general favorite, right?... Hey, are you with anyone?...
Want to have sex?
You look like an angel…
Why do you have those scars on your back?
Stay with me…
Closing his eyes, SeHun tries to surface past the waves of memories, Jongin’s voice drowning away in his ears as he winces at the throb; both of his head, chest, and shoulders. He had dreamt of white feathers and unbound wings before he roused, and wanting to preserve that special vision, he wills the last fragments of Jongin away, letting it shatter like a fragile work of glass.
Maybe it was the unearthly being that was still a part of his identity, but as he disregards the human emotions that begs him to turn back, to embrace those arms once more and seek forgiveness for another sin, SeHun shuns it all and raises his head a little higher.
Just like the sun, where it waits for its rise and fall of every new day, watching over the colonized humans with a patient eye, SeHun still remembers the bittersweet taste of the cocktail, a poignant flavor that pierces his taste buds, and decides that it was enough to hold onto.
It would merely be another memory faded into his already painful past.
Once a fallen; always a fallen.
-end