"Ten!"
Said person raises his head lazily from the soft surface of the couch, taking care not to tense any other muscles. "You called, honey?"
Yuta rolls his eyes and throws another pillow at his face, but Ten (with much regret) raises his hand to defend himself. "Get up, we've got a guest coming over."
Ten notices that the gaming system is finally off. The screen is dark, though he remembers falling asleep to the view of a virtual warzone.
The backs of his eyelids still feel like they've been doused in jalapeno sauce.
He awkwardly places his palms flat against the top and pushes himself up with a groan, brushing the bread crumbs off of his sweatshirt. "Nice to see you refer to this place as ours."
"Only because you own half the trash around this place." He pauses, and gestures exaggeratedly towards the discarded lays packets and empty cola cans on the floor. "And you're the one who's gonna clean this mess up."
"I claim guest privileges."
"I let your dusty ass stay over at my place a whole two days," Yuta places his hands on his hips. "You're not getting jackshit."
"Ouch," Ten mumbles feebly, not really meaning it. He knows Yuta's gonna clean it up by himself, anyway.
He picks up a stray strawberry gum wrapper at his feet, and stuffs it down his pocket. "Anyway, who's the guest?"
"My partner. For the project you probably still don't know about." The boy sighs, pushing back his strawberry-flavoured hair. "Taeyong."
Ten freezes, hand still half-down his pocket in an awkward position. His heart seems to have gone cold and all squeezed-up, but he prays Yuta didn't notice and takes a deep breath, mustering a lame, "Oh."
"Oh?" The boy smiles, the slow, sideways tilt of his lips showing amusement. "I'd bet my whole flat ass you didn't know about the project."
The look on his face must have been crystal clear, but the context, he guesses, not a lot of people would have known.
Ten gives him a look, internally relieved by the fact that his friend didn't pick up on his hesitation, or at least the true reason behind it. "How long do I have to clean up?"
"Judging by the sound of the engine outside, approximately three minutes."
He curses and picks himself up, though grudgingly, and swipes all the junk food remains under the bed. Yuta gives him an unimpressed look, though looking less than surprised.
"And you better rearrange my Disney DVDs if you want another marathon anytime soon."
Ten looks up from his kneel, and grabs another few chewing gum wrappers in his fists. "I'll be in the kitchen."
He rushes downstairs, feet moving in a flurry as he hurdles down the steps and slides across the newly-cleaned floor into the kitchen. The place is spotless, not unlike the rest of pinky's house, but the jelly is out, so Yuta's parents must have left home only recently.
He throws the wrappers into the bin and empties his pockets out onto the counter. There's some change, his wallet, an empty bubble gum wrapper and a crumpled post-it note.
He blows his breath out through rounded lips and stuffs the post-it back inside his pocket.
And just in time, because there's another presence behind him. It's barely noticeable, so he must not be close, but Ten knows it's not Yuta this time.
"Strawberry?" Taeyong asks, a note of awkwardness in his voice. "I thought you preferred peppermint."
The space inside Ten's ribs feels hollow, and his breath rattles in his chest. "The girls like strawberry."
The boy behind him laughs lightly, and comes up to the counter next to him, clasping his hands together. There's tension in the tensed muscles of his wrists, too. He can see it. "You're not straight enough for that."
Ten stares emptily at the cold gray surface of the counter. What's the point of pretending? He knows he can't, so he doesn't try to.
"How can I think straight," he whispers, "when you're so close?"
Taeyong takes a step back, and his eyes are pained. His expression smacks, hurt, and he wants to look away, but can't.
"Not now." He shakes his head. "I can't talk about this, Ten. Not now, not...ever."
Ten laughs, but it's a hollow laugh. "What's the point? We can't be civil with each other, why are you even trying to talk to me when you know I can't bear it, and you don't want it?"
The redhead pinches the bridge of his nose, and grits his teeth. "I'm trying," He hisses. "I'm trying, but you can't even do that!"
"Why do I have to?" Ten yells back, whipping around, and he feels murderous, but more inwards. "Why am I supposed to act like everything's okay?"
"The reason why nothing is okay is because you don't try to change!" Taeyong shouts. At this rate, Yuta's going to be downstairs in a moment. "I tried to have a decent conversation with you, for once, but you always have to go on and fuck it all up."
"Oh, I'm the one fucking it up?" He scoffs in disbelief. "Why do you even try? I can't do this shit any more, Taeyong, and if you ever want to get your happily ever after, don't ever drag me into it—because it's not happening. I'm never going to even try to be okay with all of this—" he gestures between them. "And that's final."
Ten grabs the Nutella from the compartment and his change from the counter, and stalks out of the kitchen.
Taeyong closes his eyes, and presses his hands tiredly against his face.
"Fine." He sighs, barely audible, picking up the gum wrapper from the counter, and throws it into the trashcan. "Fucking fine."
|
i just HAD to start this chapter with a ten cause i miss him so damn much and, well, the opportunity was too good to miss
this dialogue was kinda sorta shit and i need to fix it soon, but i'm too lazy rn and i have to go sleep so I'll just do it later sigh
but on a side note, what do you think the taeten queso is?
love,
Manx.
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