Singing Rain [2/2]
Title: Singing Rain
Rating: PG
Focus/Pairing: Daehyun/Youngjae
Words: 7000+
Summary: Youngjae's iPhone app shows no forecast of rain.
Singing Rain [2/2]
The night continues on with them being kicked out of seven restaurants consecutively and Daehyun still has it within him to release an eye-blinding smile. From the looks of it, Youngjae doubts this is the other’s first time facing such accumulative rejection, or perhaps it's the alcohol that teases through his veins. Somehow the boy still finds it within him to smile and dance among the water droplets.
The waves of water that erupts from each of Daehyun’s splashes are always bigger than the last. They come in bursts and tides. And the water, as if painfully self-conscious, never ceases to miss Youngjae’s person. However, the blond has long but lost track of what percent of the water on his clothes is attributed to Daehyun, because, in mid-air, there is no real difference between that water and the falling rain. It still seeps into his clothes mercilessly, all the same, drenching his clothes in what Youngjae can only describe as bone chilling.
Youngjae’s envious of the other's enthusiastic nature in such cold weather, but only slightly. It’s impossible to see green with so much blue.
“Youngjae! Youngjae! Hurry up!” He calls when he notices the blond has fallen a few steps behind. Daehyun does a mess of hand movements to gesture the other one closer, and Youngjae abides, pushing past the never ending blockade of water. Daehyun laughs when Youngjae’s by his side once more.
He takes Youngjae’s hand within his cold grasp and continues down the empty road litten up by a row of streetlights and the reflections that bounce off of rain drops. The wind blows harshly, trying with all its might to move their soaked body and locks. Rain smacks against their bodies in all directions and still Daehyun walks and talks, not caring for the earthy taste that enters his mouth and kisses his lips. “Onwards to place number eight, shall we?” Daehyun jokes with a promise of adventure in his voice.
Youngjae notes that since their first encounter Daehyun has yet to clam up. His lips, blue, still move with much too much animation. He talks in excited breaths that sound like whispers under the loud pounding of the rain. Though Daehyun tries to raise his voice to match the ferocity of the weather, he never gets loud enough. He’s having a losing shouting match against the rain and it makes him look comical as he strains his throat. Youngjae doubts the importance of his words, though. He half listens and half ignores what he assumes are ramblings, to amuse the male.
Daehyun keeps up the conversation (despite the fact it’s all really one sided on his part). Youngjae wonders if Daehyun just naturally enjoys the sound of his own voice or if it’s the alcohol that causes loose lips. Either way, they arrive at the eighth restaurant and are simultaneously kicked out without Daehyun ever resting his tongue.
“Wow,” Daehyun exclaims arms wide open, as if to catch the water. “Don’t you think that old lady back there was way too harsh on us? I mean, yeah. We were dripping all over the carpet of the restaurant but isn’t the customer always right?” There’s a slight slur to his words and the beginning of a smile, or maybe its the remnants of one.
Youngjae shrugs his shoulders, which is a hard task to accomplish if you take into account the heavy weight of his clothes.
“You’re not much of a talker, are ya?” Daehyun laughs, letting his voice mix with the atmosphere.
“Pardon my shyness, I’m not used to running around at night searching for restaurants with a stranger.” Youngjae replies sarcastically with a bit of a bark. In retrospect, maybe Youngjae shouldn’t have simply followed the demands of a tipsy boy. Youngjae does not doubt the hell of a cold he’ll definitely have in the morning.
Youngjae watches as the male before him sputters, trying (and failing) to conceal a laugh, “Stranger?” he gasps, “My names Daehyun and you’re Youngjae. What more is there to know? Do I have to kiss you or something?” His words leave off with a hearty laugh as the guy doubles over in laughter.
The blond rolls his eyes, trying to keep his own smile off his face. He takes the other by the wrist this time, "Come on, all this running around has gotten me hungry, too."
"Woo! To restaurant number nine we go!" Daehyun shouts. This time Daehyun's voice is more than hushed words as he yells them directly into Youngjae's ear.
By some sheer force of luck, they find themselves actually being welcomed in some eating establishment instead of being cursed out by the manager. The place has hardwood floors and seems eager for customers. The waiter seats the two dripping males by the table closest to the door and places a wet floor sign right next to them. It's obnoxiously bright and yellow. Daehyun loves it.
Youngjae orders a bowl of kimchi stew while Daehyun orders two large bowls of ramyun for himself. Not one minute after they order their food does the brunette unleash a flurry of words upon him.
Daehyun tells Youngjae his whole life story in the span of five minutes (maybe even less). His words come out in a stream of misplaced memories. One moment Daehyun is a five year old at Christmas and the next he's some sixteen year old trying his first cigarette. Youngjae doesn't believe he's ever known more about a person than this point in time (and Youngjae's not sure he ever wants to again).
"When I was fifteen we got a cat with golden fur--it was kind of like your hair actually! Weird. Okay, so like it would sleep all day and never play with me. I think the thing had a personal vendetta against me cause I stepped on her tail one time, but really! It was totally an accident!" Daehyun dramatically brings his hands up to his chest in mock defense, "I was trying to walk up to my room with a bowl of snacks and my computer. You'd understand why I would never be able to notice him since my hands were so full, right? I mean, what kind of cat just sleeps on a staircase? And then when I was--"
"Your orders are ready." The waiter informs them, thankfully interrupting Daehyun's monologue with warm food. He places the steaming bowls in front of them both before quickly rushing to another table of waiting patrons.
Only is it when Daehyun's eating does he stop speaking. In fact, he is completely dead silent aside from his moans of appreciation and the slurping of noodles. He finishes both of his meals before Youngjae is through half of his and then continues to steal spoonfuls of that, too. Youngjae has to bat the other's hand away multiple times. Daehyun is not the least bit discouraged.
"Stop it." Youngjae scolds, "Isn't your stomach full yet?"
"You can never have enough food, my dear Watson. Food is the bringer of life and energy. We should treasure each day, meal, and..." Daehyun trails off into some kind of lecture about breakfast and how it's the most important meal of the day. Youngjae's mind wanders off in an effort to ignore his voice. Youngjae stares around the restaurant. He thinks Himchan would like a place like this. The older boy was always up for new places and the homey decor was to Himchan's taste, too. From the yellow lighting to the framed watercolor paintings.
By the time Youngjae comes back from his reverie to take another bite of his stew, his spoon meets the empty clang of porcelain. Youngjae looks up to meet the satisfied face of one Jung Daehyun, who looks like a man who just had a fulfilling meal.
He glares at him. Daehyun grins without shame. "You're smarter than you look." Youngjae observes.
Daehyun's does a small bow from his seat, as if he's being honored by a princess, hand on his stomach and all. "Why thank you. I have considered being a con man once." Daehyun reveals with a smile he guesses is supposed to be charming but is more like a child hyped up on sugar.
"Really...?" Youngjae inquires more, a smile tugging on his lips.
Daehyun nods his head like a bobble toy, "I am really super good at noticing things, like you wouldn't believe it! I had a detective agency once and I found lost pets and stuff." Daehyun reminisces with a fond look on his face.
"I bet you made a lot of money, huh?" Youngjae decides to further the conversation.
"Haha. Nah. My mom wouldn’t let me accept money. I got paid in food. There was this one case with a Pomeranian that was trapped under someone's porch and I got sooo much cheesecake." Daehyun goes on and on and Youngjae listens with a content smile. He admires how many stories Daehyun has to tell; Youngjae can't say he has many himself.
"Long story short: that's why I'm majoring in criminology now!" Youngjae wonders why criminology and not nutrition or cooking, "Aside from all the nasty dead bodies, there are donuts, cool cars, sexy uniforms, all the perks." Oh. Youngjae really really wonders if Daehyun makes more sense when he's sober.
"So you attend the university? I haven't seen you before." Youngjae asks, genuinely curious.
Daehyun shakes his head and chuckles, "I go to the community college down the road."
"Ahhhh..." Youngjae nods his head at the new information.
They chatter some more, this time with more participation from Youngjae. Daehyun still does most of the talking, though. The blond can't say he's as interesting as him. But a college student struggling just to get to class on time doesn’t scream Blockbuster like a pet detective agency does.
Daehyun orders dessert only after the check arrives, luckily the waitrer doesn’t seem frustrated by his behavior. He’s probably dealt with Daehyun’s kind before. The brunette announces that the two of them are going to share the sweet, however, Youngjae isn't as ecstatic about eating such a large bowl of icecream, at the moment. It's green tea flavor, though, so maybe he could make a slight exception (plus, daehyun says it’s his treat, too).
"You have to eat cold things when it's cold. That way your body can naturally heat up." Daehyun lectures with a giant scoop of ice cream on his spoon. He proceeds to have one massive brain freeze as Youngjae tries to catch his breath after laughing, trying not to spit out his spoonful.
Youngjae foots the bill because all of Daehyun's money has somehow melted due to the rain. While he pays, Daehyun keeps nagging at him to call him hyung and he promises to pay for their next meal (assuming there’s a next time). When they leave the place and enter the crushing wind and weather, Youngjae thinks it's the end of his impromptu eating excursion and that it's time to head home, but the grip on his hand says otherwise. Youngjae is once more dragged off to somewhere Daehyun wants. The only excuse Daehyun can trudge up is "it's lonely at home! Let's have some more fun for a while." Youngjae’s way too nice sometimes.
Daehyun takes Youngjae to a part of town he's never seen before, with all sorts of new sights and sounds. Youngjae can't says he's awed by the new discovery, however, seeing as he's never actually taken the time to ever explore the places by his college earlier than this. Daehyun drags him from shop to shop (which they all get kicked out of, eventually).
They look at random trinkets together, some of which are enthusiastically shoved in Youngjae’s face. They kind of have to stop going to the stores once he almost gets suffocated by a stuff rabbit doll. He might be coughing up fur balls later.
When Youngjae looks at his phone, it is close to midnight and Youngjae is bewildered how he could spend so much time with the older boy without noticing the time that was slipping by. Youngjae’s close to screwed. If he doesn't go home soon, an onslaught of worried texts from Himchan will spam his phone.
Youngjae reluctantly tries to tell Daehyun he has to go but the other simply begs, “One more place! One more place, please." Youngjae folds and agrees.
That one more place is the ocean. Daehyun drags the blond on a twenty minute walk to the beach. A place Youngjae has failed to see in the past few months since he's been a college student.
The place is freezing. He imagines this is what Antarctica feels like.
Daehyun is screaming and jumping all over the place in dizzying exhilaration. Like the road they walked on, the ocean is a wide expanse of black that only glitters with certain colors. It doesn’t look deadly or dangerous, just a mass. It isn’t anything special, but he supposes it is kind of pretty.
The waves move with some kind of intentions, moving to and from the sand. The sea foam bubbles up in it’s pearl white, soaking into the drenched earth. It shyly stops at their feet before receding, as if weary of their presence. And Youngjae doesn’t blame the ocean. From the way the rain ripples the water, he doubts any sane person would venture out so late at night. But, of course, there are two kinds of people in the world:
"Youngjae! Let's swim!" Daehyun's already in full sprint towards the rushing tides, in clothes and all.
Youngjae’s sits back, dubious and not quite as welcoming to the idea of hyperthermia. He’s more content with waiting for and letting Daehyun have his fun, instead.
Youngjae plants himself on the sand which sinks under his weight. He drags his finger and doodles on the sediments. His drawings stay for a minute or two before being washed away a while later. He writes his name and the date. He knows he might not remember this night years down the line, perhaps even weeks, but he wants to memorialize it, even if it is just momentary. He writes Daehyun’s name as an afterthought.
He admires the rough chickenscratch of sand before staring back out. My butts are still dark and overbearing. Youngjae wonders why Daehyun hasn’t returned to the beach yet. His fingers twitch anxiously but he reassures himself that everything is fine. He draws a couple of more circles in the sand. They're stick figures and kind of resemble--
“Youngjae!” he hears his name in the distance. “Help!”
He whips his head in time to see Daehyun out in the water still, not too far away, flailing his arms. One second Youngjae can see his head and the next it is enveloped by a gulp of water.
In a frenzied panic Youngjae runs to the perilous water which is no longer as calm as it was in the morning. Now it looks treacherous and murderous and other horrible adjectives that end in -ous.
His clothes stagger his running speed but he’s in there in no time, ready to swallow lungfuls of water. The salt burns Youngjae's skin with frost. And that's when Youngjae remembers something: he's not much of a swimmer himself.
The freezing water drowns him and blinds him. It’s like the sand in his shoes are weighing him down as he’s engulfed almost completely. His body involuntarily coughs to expel the water, only to intake more. He frantically searches for Daehyun while ignoring the pain in his eyes. Youngjae wastes all his energy looking before he thinks the water in his body is forcing him to sink. As if after consuming a certain percent of the ocean, it feels the right to own him.
Youngjae thinks this must be the end and he’s an even bigger idiot than he thought Daehyun was. Bubbles arise upon the surface from where he’s fallen below, popped by the pierce of the raindrops.
He only resurfaces when he feels an arm around his waist and a hand on his back. Mermaids must exist, Youngjae thinks as he’s pulled back to the dirty sand.
There are blue and chapped lips pressed against his own. He feels the air his body so desperately needs being delivered in with ease. He kind of feels bad when he spits water onto his savior’s face, he kind of liked the feel of them, too. He thinks he would blush if he had enough body temperature to, especially at how loud the laughter hitting his ears is.
“Oh, God! That was so much fun. Did you see any of the fishes that were down there?” Daehyun doesn’t even care that Youngjae was close to death, or seems aware, as he drops a handful of seashells from his pockets. “Too bad you couldn’t gather some shells with me too, but I guess I could give you half and--”
Youngjae lunges up and tackles Daehyun onto his back in newfound strength that’s only accompanied by anger. They find themselves wrestling on the beach, getting sand everywhere. The suspected growls are smoothened into laughter. They tussle and pull each other’s hair playfully before they find themselves laying side by side, chests heaving with shit eating grins on their faces. They’re too tired out to form coherent sentences. But they’re breathlessness is a conversation of its own. It sounds like joy and being able to let your guard down and just two idiots on the beach, in general.
Water trails down their cheeks and hits their tongues. It’s salty with a hint of something familiar. They’re insane. They must be. They don’t care.
Daehyun screams into the night after cooling down. His voice breaking the rain up. Youngjae joins him. It’s funny how swiftly silence becomes exhilarating shouts.
It’s certainly not the serene night Youngjae had planned after a long day of studying. It’s not the warm bath or the bubbles he wanted to prepare for it and neither is it a warm bed and a pile of pillows. It’s something all together better. Something that makes his adrenaline rush and his heart beat. He feels warm and fuzzy, like he’s having actual fun (like if soda was 80% sugar, then youngjae’s having 100% of it). He thinks it’s a shame that the sun is going to rise soon and ruin their night, yet at the same time if the night were to drag on, it’ll be getting closer for one of them to go home.
Youngjae turns to look at Daehyun. His eyes trace his side-profile, admiring the curvature of his nose and lips, not missing how they shine. Daehyun turns to stare back at him and he sees the reflection of his own feelings in Daehyun’s eyes. Neither of them want this time to end. Daehyun takes a hold of Youngjae’s hand, interlocking their fingers together. He holds it up high enough for Youngjae to stare at their connection. Both their hands are wrinkled and that makes Youngjae bellow with laughter again. He swings their hands back and forth like he’s seen the couples who walk around his college so often do. But, really, he’s just smacking their hands against the ground and it makes them both burst with giggles.
The water has fried their brain cells.
“We should come back here sometime in the day.” Youngjae thinks aloud.
Daehyun eagerly nods his head, the alcohol once streaming through his system most likely having filtered away. Youngjae assumes so thanks to the boy’s now less than active mouth. But maybe the two are just comfortable with each other and words aren’t even that necessary.
He had asked him earlier if he was having fun and Youngjae’s sure that he is.
Daehyun unravels their hands eventually and Youngjae’s only slightly upset. “C’mon. Let me walk you home. I’ve kept you out for long enough, don’t you think?”
And though Youngjae wants to convince him to stay out longer, he instead says “I can walk home myself.”
“Ohhhh. Sassy. But for a detective to be, I can’t let you walk home by yourself. There are weirdos around. What do you say to letting a gentleman escort you home?”
Youngjae breaths out a sigh, followed by a smile, “If you provide the gentleman. But I don’t think I see one.” He then pokes Daehyun in his side, watching the other spazm, with quick amusement.
Daehyun pouts and holds onto his side for self-defense, “You know what I mean!”
He nods his head, “Okay, but let’s stay here for a little bit more. Please?”
Daehyun doesn’t need to say anything for Youngjae to understand that he shares the same sentiment.
Some more of my butts have cleared up, just enough for them to see a couple of stars against the backdrop of black. Unlike the grey of my butts, they’re white and somewhat gleaming. Youngjae thinks he sees some constellations, but their names escape him.
Daehyun is talking beside him about a topic Youngjae doesn’t care about but feels compelled to because Daehyun does. Whatever it is Daehyun’s rambling about, it sure is interesting. Their hands have found their ways back together and they remain between the two of them.
Youngjae’s brain has long since stopped hearing the storm and has opted to fill itself with the own beating of his heart. His bloodflow is all fucked up and he thinks maybe it is time to get up and return to reality.
“Daehyun,” he breaths, “I think I’m ready to go home now.”
The older boy jumps to his feet, never releasing his hold of Youngjae’s hand, dragging the ladder up with him. Youngjae resists the frown on his wet face because he’s afraid he’ll never have this much fun or spontaneous nights ever again.
Daehyun smiles, “Why the long face? Are you that upset I kept you from your bedtime for so long?”
Youngjae lamely lands a punch onto Daehyun’s arm. He reciprocates by holding onto it in pain. “Overreacting much?” he replies with a toothy grin.
“No. This is me overreacting.” Daehyun grabs a hold of Youngjae’s arms and drags him close enough to have their noses bump against each other. Their lips are centimeters apart and Youngjae flinches and closes his eyes instinctively, anticipating the oncoming kiss.
He hears Daehyun laugh before feeling his wet bangs being moved aside and a kiss placed on his forehead.
“Hey, man. Only one kiss a day and I already gave you CPR.” he jokes.
“Wha--”
“How about this? I’ll race you home and winner gets to kiss the other as much as they want?”
“But--”
“3! 2! 1!” Daehyun runs off into the night. “GO!”
“Daehyun! You don’t even know where I live!” Youngjae shouts as he chases after the rambunctious maniac, trying to close the gap which separates them. It doesn't take long before they're next to each other again. It's not much of a race when one has to drag the other by the hand.
Their laughter fills the air.
this is actually an unfinished fic i had abandoned for almost a year? and decided to revamp and redo because it fit bap's dancing in the rain so much. it was a joy to look back on too lol
Rating: PG
Focus/Pairing: Daehyun/Youngjae
Words: 7000+
Summary: Youngjae's iPhone app shows no forecast of rain.
Singing Rain [2/2]
The night continues on with them being kicked out of seven restaurants consecutively and Daehyun still has it within him to release an eye-blinding smile. From the looks of it, Youngjae doubts this is the other’s first time facing such accumulative rejection, or perhaps it's the alcohol that teases through his veins. Somehow the boy still finds it within him to smile and dance among the water droplets.
The waves of water that erupts from each of Daehyun’s splashes are always bigger than the last. They come in bursts and tides. And the water, as if painfully self-conscious, never ceases to miss Youngjae’s person. However, the blond has long but lost track of what percent of the water on his clothes is attributed to Daehyun, because, in mid-air, there is no real difference between that water and the falling rain. It still seeps into his clothes mercilessly, all the same, drenching his clothes in what Youngjae can only describe as bone chilling.
Youngjae’s envious of the other's enthusiastic nature in such cold weather, but only slightly. It’s impossible to see green with so much blue.
“Youngjae! Youngjae! Hurry up!” He calls when he notices the blond has fallen a few steps behind. Daehyun does a mess of hand movements to gesture the other one closer, and Youngjae abides, pushing past the never ending blockade of water. Daehyun laughs when Youngjae’s by his side once more.
He takes Youngjae’s hand within his cold grasp and continues down the empty road litten up by a row of streetlights and the reflections that bounce off of rain drops. The wind blows harshly, trying with all its might to move their soaked body and locks. Rain smacks against their bodies in all directions and still Daehyun walks and talks, not caring for the earthy taste that enters his mouth and kisses his lips. “Onwards to place number eight, shall we?” Daehyun jokes with a promise of adventure in his voice.
Youngjae notes that since their first encounter Daehyun has yet to clam up. His lips, blue, still move with much too much animation. He talks in excited breaths that sound like whispers under the loud pounding of the rain. Though Daehyun tries to raise his voice to match the ferocity of the weather, he never gets loud enough. He’s having a losing shouting match against the rain and it makes him look comical as he strains his throat. Youngjae doubts the importance of his words, though. He half listens and half ignores what he assumes are ramblings, to amuse the male.
Daehyun keeps up the conversation (despite the fact it’s all really one sided on his part). Youngjae wonders if Daehyun just naturally enjoys the sound of his own voice or if it’s the alcohol that causes loose lips. Either way, they arrive at the eighth restaurant and are simultaneously kicked out without Daehyun ever resting his tongue.
“Wow,” Daehyun exclaims arms wide open, as if to catch the water. “Don’t you think that old lady back there was way too harsh on us? I mean, yeah. We were dripping all over the carpet of the restaurant but isn’t the customer always right?” There’s a slight slur to his words and the beginning of a smile, or maybe its the remnants of one.
Youngjae shrugs his shoulders, which is a hard task to accomplish if you take into account the heavy weight of his clothes.
“You’re not much of a talker, are ya?” Daehyun laughs, letting his voice mix with the atmosphere.
“Pardon my shyness, I’m not used to running around at night searching for restaurants with a stranger.” Youngjae replies sarcastically with a bit of a bark. In retrospect, maybe Youngjae shouldn’t have simply followed the demands of a tipsy boy. Youngjae does not doubt the hell of a cold he’ll definitely have in the morning.
Youngjae watches as the male before him sputters, trying (and failing) to conceal a laugh, “Stranger?” he gasps, “My names Daehyun and you’re Youngjae. What more is there to know? Do I have to kiss you or something?” His words leave off with a hearty laugh as the guy doubles over in laughter.
The blond rolls his eyes, trying to keep his own smile off his face. He takes the other by the wrist this time, "Come on, all this running around has gotten me hungry, too."
"Woo! To restaurant number nine we go!" Daehyun shouts. This time Daehyun's voice is more than hushed words as he yells them directly into Youngjae's ear.
By some sheer force of luck, they find themselves actually being welcomed in some eating establishment instead of being cursed out by the manager. The place has hardwood floors and seems eager for customers. The waiter seats the two dripping males by the table closest to the door and places a wet floor sign right next to them. It's obnoxiously bright and yellow. Daehyun loves it.
Youngjae orders a bowl of kimchi stew while Daehyun orders two large bowls of ramyun for himself. Not one minute after they order their food does the brunette unleash a flurry of words upon him.
Daehyun tells Youngjae his whole life story in the span of five minutes (maybe even less). His words come out in a stream of misplaced memories. One moment Daehyun is a five year old at Christmas and the next he's some sixteen year old trying his first cigarette. Youngjae doesn't believe he's ever known more about a person than this point in time (and Youngjae's not sure he ever wants to again).
"When I was fifteen we got a cat with golden fur--it was kind of like your hair actually! Weird. Okay, so like it would sleep all day and never play with me. I think the thing had a personal vendetta against me cause I stepped on her tail one time, but really! It was totally an accident!" Daehyun dramatically brings his hands up to his chest in mock defense, "I was trying to walk up to my room with a bowl of snacks and my computer. You'd understand why I would never be able to notice him since my hands were so full, right? I mean, what kind of cat just sleeps on a staircase? And then when I was--"
"Your orders are ready." The waiter informs them, thankfully interrupting Daehyun's monologue with warm food. He places the steaming bowls in front of them both before quickly rushing to another table of waiting patrons.
Only is it when Daehyun's eating does he stop speaking. In fact, he is completely dead silent aside from his moans of appreciation and the slurping of noodles. He finishes both of his meals before Youngjae is through half of his and then continues to steal spoonfuls of that, too. Youngjae has to bat the other's hand away multiple times. Daehyun is not the least bit discouraged.
"Stop it." Youngjae scolds, "Isn't your stomach full yet?"
"You can never have enough food, my dear Watson. Food is the bringer of life and energy. We should treasure each day, meal, and..." Daehyun trails off into some kind of lecture about breakfast and how it's the most important meal of the day. Youngjae's mind wanders off in an effort to ignore his voice. Youngjae stares around the restaurant. He thinks Himchan would like a place like this. The older boy was always up for new places and the homey decor was to Himchan's taste, too. From the yellow lighting to the framed watercolor paintings.
By the time Youngjae comes back from his reverie to take another bite of his stew, his spoon meets the empty clang of porcelain. Youngjae looks up to meet the satisfied face of one Jung Daehyun, who looks like a man who just had a fulfilling meal.
He glares at him. Daehyun grins without shame. "You're smarter than you look." Youngjae observes.
Daehyun's does a small bow from his seat, as if he's being honored by a princess, hand on his stomach and all. "Why thank you. I have considered being a con man once." Daehyun reveals with a smile he guesses is supposed to be charming but is more like a child hyped up on sugar.
"Really...?" Youngjae inquires more, a smile tugging on his lips.
Daehyun nods his head like a bobble toy, "I am really super good at noticing things, like you wouldn't believe it! I had a detective agency once and I found lost pets and stuff." Daehyun reminisces with a fond look on his face.
"I bet you made a lot of money, huh?" Youngjae decides to further the conversation.
"Haha. Nah. My mom wouldn’t let me accept money. I got paid in food. There was this one case with a Pomeranian that was trapped under someone's porch and I got sooo much cheesecake." Daehyun goes on and on and Youngjae listens with a content smile. He admires how many stories Daehyun has to tell; Youngjae can't say he has many himself.
"Long story short: that's why I'm majoring in criminology now!" Youngjae wonders why criminology and not nutrition or cooking, "Aside from all the nasty dead bodies, there are donuts, cool cars, sexy uniforms, all the perks." Oh. Youngjae really really wonders if Daehyun makes more sense when he's sober.
"So you attend the university? I haven't seen you before." Youngjae asks, genuinely curious.
Daehyun shakes his head and chuckles, "I go to the community college down the road."
"Ahhhh..." Youngjae nods his head at the new information.
They chatter some more, this time with more participation from Youngjae. Daehyun still does most of the talking, though. The blond can't say he's as interesting as him. But a college student struggling just to get to class on time doesn’t scream Blockbuster like a pet detective agency does.
Daehyun orders dessert only after the check arrives, luckily the waitrer doesn’t seem frustrated by his behavior. He’s probably dealt with Daehyun’s kind before. The brunette announces that the two of them are going to share the sweet, however, Youngjae isn't as ecstatic about eating such a large bowl of icecream, at the moment. It's green tea flavor, though, so maybe he could make a slight exception (plus, daehyun says it’s his treat, too).
"You have to eat cold things when it's cold. That way your body can naturally heat up." Daehyun lectures with a giant scoop of ice cream on his spoon. He proceeds to have one massive brain freeze as Youngjae tries to catch his breath after laughing, trying not to spit out his spoonful.
Youngjae foots the bill because all of Daehyun's money has somehow melted due to the rain. While he pays, Daehyun keeps nagging at him to call him hyung and he promises to pay for their next meal (assuming there’s a next time). When they leave the place and enter the crushing wind and weather, Youngjae thinks it's the end of his impromptu eating excursion and that it's time to head home, but the grip on his hand says otherwise. Youngjae is once more dragged off to somewhere Daehyun wants. The only excuse Daehyun can trudge up is "it's lonely at home! Let's have some more fun for a while." Youngjae’s way too nice sometimes.
Daehyun takes Youngjae to a part of town he's never seen before, with all sorts of new sights and sounds. Youngjae can't says he's awed by the new discovery, however, seeing as he's never actually taken the time to ever explore the places by his college earlier than this. Daehyun drags him from shop to shop (which they all get kicked out of, eventually).
They look at random trinkets together, some of which are enthusiastically shoved in Youngjae’s face. They kind of have to stop going to the stores once he almost gets suffocated by a stuff rabbit doll. He might be coughing up fur balls later.
When Youngjae looks at his phone, it is close to midnight and Youngjae is bewildered how he could spend so much time with the older boy without noticing the time that was slipping by. Youngjae’s close to screwed. If he doesn't go home soon, an onslaught of worried texts from Himchan will spam his phone.
Youngjae reluctantly tries to tell Daehyun he has to go but the other simply begs, “One more place! One more place, please." Youngjae folds and agrees.
That one more place is the ocean. Daehyun drags the blond on a twenty minute walk to the beach. A place Youngjae has failed to see in the past few months since he's been a college student.
The place is freezing. He imagines this is what Antarctica feels like.
Daehyun is screaming and jumping all over the place in dizzying exhilaration. Like the road they walked on, the ocean is a wide expanse of black that only glitters with certain colors. It doesn’t look deadly or dangerous, just a mass. It isn’t anything special, but he supposes it is kind of pretty.
The waves move with some kind of intentions, moving to and from the sand. The sea foam bubbles up in it’s pearl white, soaking into the drenched earth. It shyly stops at their feet before receding, as if weary of their presence. And Youngjae doesn’t blame the ocean. From the way the rain ripples the water, he doubts any sane person would venture out so late at night. But, of course, there are two kinds of people in the world:
"Youngjae! Let's swim!" Daehyun's already in full sprint towards the rushing tides, in clothes and all.
Youngjae’s sits back, dubious and not quite as welcoming to the idea of hyperthermia. He’s more content with waiting for and letting Daehyun have his fun, instead.
Youngjae plants himself on the sand which sinks under his weight. He drags his finger and doodles on the sediments. His drawings stay for a minute or two before being washed away a while later. He writes his name and the date. He knows he might not remember this night years down the line, perhaps even weeks, but he wants to memorialize it, even if it is just momentary. He writes Daehyun’s name as an afterthought.
He admires the rough chickenscratch of sand before staring back out. My butts are still dark and overbearing. Youngjae wonders why Daehyun hasn’t returned to the beach yet. His fingers twitch anxiously but he reassures himself that everything is fine. He draws a couple of more circles in the sand. They're stick figures and kind of resemble--
“Youngjae!” he hears his name in the distance. “Help!”
He whips his head in time to see Daehyun out in the water still, not too far away, flailing his arms. One second Youngjae can see his head and the next it is enveloped by a gulp of water.
In a frenzied panic Youngjae runs to the perilous water which is no longer as calm as it was in the morning. Now it looks treacherous and murderous and other horrible adjectives that end in -ous.
His clothes stagger his running speed but he’s in there in no time, ready to swallow lungfuls of water. The salt burns Youngjae's skin with frost. And that's when Youngjae remembers something: he's not much of a swimmer himself.
The freezing water drowns him and blinds him. It’s like the sand in his shoes are weighing him down as he’s engulfed almost completely. His body involuntarily coughs to expel the water, only to intake more. He frantically searches for Daehyun while ignoring the pain in his eyes. Youngjae wastes all his energy looking before he thinks the water in his body is forcing him to sink. As if after consuming a certain percent of the ocean, it feels the right to own him.
Youngjae thinks this must be the end and he’s an even bigger idiot than he thought Daehyun was. Bubbles arise upon the surface from where he’s fallen below, popped by the pierce of the raindrops.
He only resurfaces when he feels an arm around his waist and a hand on his back. Mermaids must exist, Youngjae thinks as he’s pulled back to the dirty sand.
There are blue and chapped lips pressed against his own. He feels the air his body so desperately needs being delivered in with ease. He kind of feels bad when he spits water onto his savior’s face, he kind of liked the feel of them, too. He thinks he would blush if he had enough body temperature to, especially at how loud the laughter hitting his ears is.
“Oh, God! That was so much fun. Did you see any of the fishes that were down there?” Daehyun doesn’t even care that Youngjae was close to death, or seems aware, as he drops a handful of seashells from his pockets. “Too bad you couldn’t gather some shells with me too, but I guess I could give you half and--”
Youngjae lunges up and tackles Daehyun onto his back in newfound strength that’s only accompanied by anger. They find themselves wrestling on the beach, getting sand everywhere. The suspected growls are smoothened into laughter. They tussle and pull each other’s hair playfully before they find themselves laying side by side, chests heaving with shit eating grins on their faces. They’re too tired out to form coherent sentences. But they’re breathlessness is a conversation of its own. It sounds like joy and being able to let your guard down and just two idiots on the beach, in general.
Water trails down their cheeks and hits their tongues. It’s salty with a hint of something familiar. They’re insane. They must be. They don’t care.
Daehyun screams into the night after cooling down. His voice breaking the rain up. Youngjae joins him. It’s funny how swiftly silence becomes exhilarating shouts.
It’s certainly not the serene night Youngjae had planned after a long day of studying. It’s not the warm bath or the bubbles he wanted to prepare for it and neither is it a warm bed and a pile of pillows. It’s something all together better. Something that makes his adrenaline rush and his heart beat. He feels warm and fuzzy, like he’s having actual fun (like if soda was 80% sugar, then youngjae’s having 100% of it). He thinks it’s a shame that the sun is going to rise soon and ruin their night, yet at the same time if the night were to drag on, it’ll be getting closer for one of them to go home.
Youngjae turns to look at Daehyun. His eyes trace his side-profile, admiring the curvature of his nose and lips, not missing how they shine. Daehyun turns to stare back at him and he sees the reflection of his own feelings in Daehyun’s eyes. Neither of them want this time to end. Daehyun takes a hold of Youngjae’s hand, interlocking their fingers together. He holds it up high enough for Youngjae to stare at their connection. Both their hands are wrinkled and that makes Youngjae bellow with laughter again. He swings their hands back and forth like he’s seen the couples who walk around his college so often do. But, really, he’s just smacking their hands against the ground and it makes them both burst with giggles.
The water has fried their brain cells.
“We should come back here sometime in the day.” Youngjae thinks aloud.
Daehyun eagerly nods his head, the alcohol once streaming through his system most likely having filtered away. Youngjae assumes so thanks to the boy’s now less than active mouth. But maybe the two are just comfortable with each other and words aren’t even that necessary.
He had asked him earlier if he was having fun and Youngjae’s sure that he is.
Daehyun unravels their hands eventually and Youngjae’s only slightly upset. “C’mon. Let me walk you home. I’ve kept you out for long enough, don’t you think?”
And though Youngjae wants to convince him to stay out longer, he instead says “I can walk home myself.”
“Ohhhh. Sassy. But for a detective to be, I can’t let you walk home by yourself. There are weirdos around. What do you say to letting a gentleman escort you home?”
Youngjae breaths out a sigh, followed by a smile, “If you provide the gentleman. But I don’t think I see one.” He then pokes Daehyun in his side, watching the other spazm, with quick amusement.
Daehyun pouts and holds onto his side for self-defense, “You know what I mean!”
He nods his head, “Okay, but let’s stay here for a little bit more. Please?”
Daehyun doesn’t need to say anything for Youngjae to understand that he shares the same sentiment.
Some more of my butts have cleared up, just enough for them to see a couple of stars against the backdrop of black. Unlike the grey of my butts, they’re white and somewhat gleaming. Youngjae thinks he sees some constellations, but their names escape him.
Daehyun is talking beside him about a topic Youngjae doesn’t care about but feels compelled to because Daehyun does. Whatever it is Daehyun’s rambling about, it sure is interesting. Their hands have found their ways back together and they remain between the two of them.
Youngjae’s brain has long since stopped hearing the storm and has opted to fill itself with the own beating of his heart. His bloodflow is all fucked up and he thinks maybe it is time to get up and return to reality.
“Daehyun,” he breaths, “I think I’m ready to go home now.”
The older boy jumps to his feet, never releasing his hold of Youngjae’s hand, dragging the ladder up with him. Youngjae resists the frown on his wet face because he’s afraid he’ll never have this much fun or spontaneous nights ever again.
Daehyun smiles, “Why the long face? Are you that upset I kept you from your bedtime for so long?”
Youngjae lamely lands a punch onto Daehyun’s arm. He reciprocates by holding onto it in pain. “Overreacting much?” he replies with a toothy grin.
“No. This is me overreacting.” Daehyun grabs a hold of Youngjae’s arms and drags him close enough to have their noses bump against each other. Their lips are centimeters apart and Youngjae flinches and closes his eyes instinctively, anticipating the oncoming kiss.
He hears Daehyun laugh before feeling his wet bangs being moved aside and a kiss placed on his forehead.
“Hey, man. Only one kiss a day and I already gave you CPR.” he jokes.
“Wha--”
“How about this? I’ll race you home and winner gets to kiss the other as much as they want?”
“But--”
“3! 2! 1!” Daehyun runs off into the night. “GO!”
“Daehyun! You don’t even know where I live!” Youngjae shouts as he chases after the rambunctious maniac, trying to close the gap which separates them. It doesn't take long before they're next to each other again. It's not much of a race when one has to drag the other by the hand.
Their laughter fills the air.
this is actually an unfinished fic i had abandoned for almost a year? and decided to revamp and redo because it fit bap's dancing in the rain so much. it was a joy to look back on too lol