Author’s Note: I was gonna make this an angsty “Knee Socks” revamp, but I figured I’ve been posting enough stories like that lately, so here is some ultra fluff, requested by a precious anon. Credit goes to kaifuckinsoo for the edit above. Anyways, enjoy ~
The Boy Who Could Fly
Kim Jongin was decidedly spontaneous. He was never a fan of routine. His entire happiness, for his entire life, had relied on the unconventional. He never liked to do anything twice in one week. He made a point of conversing with strangers on a daily basis. He even calculated how many different combinations of outfits he could wear with the same shirt, just to ensure nothing was ever too redundant. There was, however, one thing he never liked to change.
He woke up to her face every morning. Everyday, the light would hit his lids from exactly the same angle, waking him up at exactly the same time, and he would see her, always facing him, her mouth hanging open just enough for her to breathe, her brow knit in concern, her long lashes fluttering with the movements of her closed eyes. He would press a kiss to her forehead and be gone before she woke up, and that was it, and that was enough, for a while.
But as he sat now, on the floor in the center of an obscure dance studio, he found himself unsatisfied. His chest heaved up and down, a sheen of sweat covering his skin as he stretched out to lie on the floor. He leaned over to grab his phone from his gym bag, staring at the screen void of any messages or missed calls. Without thinking, his thumb slid across the glass, pressing the first number of the speed dial. It wasn’t until he’d heard the muffled “Hello?” that he’d realized what he’d done.
"H-Hello?" he brought the phone to his ear.
"Jongin?" she sounded slightly out of breath, "What’s up? I’m working."
"Oh- I- Uh-" his tongue tripped over itself as he tried to think of something to say, "I was wondering if you wanna go out later. Like, tonight, maybe. If you want."
The other side of the line grew quiet. He bit his lip, cursing himself internally.
"Jongin-" he could hear the frown in her voice.
"I didn’t mean it like that." he replied quickly, "I’m just saying…"
He rolled onto his stomach, resting his head on his arm as he stared at himself in the mirror lining the wall, “We’re friends, right? I mean, with… benefits, or whatever you wanna call it.”
"Well, we’ve kinda been more about the benefits part than the friends part lately," he felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment he really didn’t need to feel right now, "I’m just saying, we should hang out. When was the last time we even did that?"
He shifted to lie on his side, listening to the cluttering of silverware on the other line. His lips pressed together in a straight line as he waited for her reply.
"Yeah," she sighed. This time he heard the smile in her tone. "That does sound nice."
"Great." he tried not to sound as excited as he really was, "Should I get you from the apartment at 7?"
"I gotta go now. I’ll see you, okay?"
"Yeah, bye, _________." he hung up, shooting up onto his feet, a sudden surge of energy coursing through his body. He flipped through his playlist, picking a random fast paced beat to practice to, glancing at the clock on the wall every few seconds to watch as the short hand made its excruciatingly slow journey towards the thick black "7".
Read More →