“Yeonjun.”
“Soobin.”
“I can’t see the screen.”
“I know.”
“Please move.”
Yeonjun doesn’t move until Soobin peers around him to see, only to step in front of him again.
“Oh my god.” Soobin fakes a disappointed sigh and opens his arms to Yeonjun. “Let’s get this over with.”
Yeonjun falls onto Soobin’s lap facing him and doesn’t wait for Soobin this time, kissing him first.
“You’re an addict,” Soobin says when Yeonjun pulls away, his hands on Soobin’s shoulders. He’s too pixie to realize the implications of their position. “You need rehabilitation.”
“What’s an addict?”
“An addict is someone who can’t go two seconds without stimulation.”
“Then I’m not an addict. We haven’t done a kiss in five hours.”
This morning Yeonjun followed Soobin into the bathroom and didn’t leave until Soobin kissed him up against the counter. Yeonjun can’t even use the bathroom. He had no business being in there.
Soobin can’t get enough either, so maybe they’re both addicts. He tries to avoid thinking about how they are both going to have to cut it cold when Siyeon finishes the bridge. He’s afraid Yeonjun might not want to, before he realizes how arrogant that is to think and shakes the thought from his head.
It’s fun while it’s happening, even if they both know it’s not going to last past next week. The first week with Yeonjun felt like a year. The last two felt like only a day.
Soobin rolls Yeonjun off his lap so he can see the screen again. The TV flashes when Yeonjun lands on the remote and it switches to a national news channel that Soobin hasn’t voluntarily watched since high school.
“No one cares,” Soobin says to the people on the screen as he reaches under Yeonjun for the remote.
Yeonjun gasps so loud it sounds more like a scream. Black replaces pink in a cloud so thick it blocks out the TV entirely. When the dust thins, Soobin’s heart stops.
A silent five second video loops on screen. It’s a crusty, fake looking clip of an orange haired with pixie slanted features and wings larger than himself flying between two fake flowers in an otherwise colorless room.
Soobin scrambles to find the remote through the dust, pressing the power button as soon as he does and wrapping Yeonjun into his body to prepare for another panic attack.
“T-Turn it back on,” Yeonjun says into the crook of Soobin’s arm.
“It’s okay, they’re not going to—”
“Turn it on,” Yeonjun demands. When Soobin doesn’t comply, Yeonjun snatches the remote and turns the TV back on himself.
Soobin keeps one hand on Yeonjun’s leg, thinking that if he lets go Yeonjun is going to fall or fly away.
The video fades out to reveal a middle-aged man sitting across from the national news host. He wears thick black glasses that cover the entire upper half of his face. They look more like goggles, and they magnify his eyes to an inhuman size. He wears a lab coat over a blue suit and his brown and grey hair is slicked back with so much grease it looks like he emerged from a tub of movie theater popcorn.
On the curved screen behind him and the news anchor the clip of Yeonjun loops hauntingly.
“We have all heard about your plan to renovate Avalon’s Hall into a new form of exhibit. Would you elaborate on what those plans are?”
YOU ARE READING
hold me 𐦍 yeonbin
Fanfic❝ So humans are happy when they do a kiss? ❞ Oh, no. That was adorable. Soobin doesn't need to be a fortune telling warlock to know where Yeonjun is going to take this. "That's the general idea, yeah." "I want to do a kiss." Say no, and Soobin will...
