◦ a/n: hello ! this is ruby, and you're probably wondering what "special chapters"are --- so as you all know, I am changbeanie on tumblr & sometimes I write stuff pretty spontaneously; with that being said, everything labeled "special chapter" from now on will be these shorter blurbs (1-4k ish) & they're usually dedicated to close mutuals of mine, so please look forward to a few short blurbs here and there !
seo changbin | roommates au » 1.3k words » fluff
Changbin's the type of person who offers to go shopping and then brings back three crates of herbal tea because there's a "buy two get one free" promotion. Okay, but are you really surviving a week off herbal tea?
Thought so too.
That's why Changbin's back in the grocery store he was in just twenty minutes ago, pushing a cart as he sheepishly trails behind you.
"Bread. Bananas. Milk. Eggs. What else am I missing?" You say, reading off the grocery list on your phone.
"Chips on Aisle 3," he says with a meek smile. "C'mon Y/N, you know you can spare some change for those shitty potato chips. It's like every college students' staple food." While he's at it, he throws in a pack of Rice Crispies and a box of energy bars.
He's paying for all his sugary junk, you think. "You're such a bad friend. If I gain weight from stress eating because I have no self-control whatsoever, it's on you," you accuse, already parading down to Aisle 3 where all the snacks are.
"Mhm, I'm not so sure the weight gain's on me. Maybe you should not lay down after dinner," he chides. Every time he comes home from class, he sees a figure on the couch. That figure is you, sprawled out like a squid, wrapped in layers of blankets that touch the carpet because you're far too lazy to pick them up.
You throw in a bag of barbeque flavored chips and ignore him. It's comfortable, and if you spent over five hundred dollars on a couch, you were going to make use of it.
"Anything else? Do you need more chicken?" you decide to ask. The boy lives off chicken breast and doesn't get sick of it at all. He has fifteen recipes saved on his phone, and you're thinking of asking him for one because you can't live off microwaveable meals and bread for the rest of your life.
"I'm good for now. I'll probably do a late-night convenience store run sometime in the middle of the week," he says, pulling the cart by its front as he leads you to the cluster of cashiers.
You and Changbin pass the rest of the time waiting in the checkout line by going through his messages. Propping your head on his shoulder, you see that he's been talking to Chan, and now that break's over, they're finally getting back to business and writing more songs. It's refreshing to be a music major; you're not cooped up in a lab or a lecture hall for hours a day. And to do something you actually like and you're actually good at, regardless of income? It's fan-fucking-tastic. Seo Changbin's one lucky man.
Eventually, you walk out of the grocery store with paper bags in your hands, and you hear Changbin curse under his breath.
"Shit, Y/N. Did you bring an umbrella? We should have taken the car," he regrets in front of the automatic doors. The two of you move aside to let people pass through, and you nearly slip on a puddle. It's funny how neither of you checked the weather forecast beforehand.
"I didn't think it was going to actually rain. Usually, the clouds just soak up as much water as they can, and then they release it as water vapor or something," you mumble to yourself, and Changbin gives you a "what the fuck" look. It's really time for you to take a class on climate change. For a letter grade.
"The apartment's only a ten-minute walk away. Five, if we're gonna run it," he says, already throwing his hood over his head.
You drop your groceries momentarily and do the same. "Race you?"
"No. You'll probably trip."
"Ugh. I hate it when you're right."
Seconds later, the two of you are speedwalking pathetically down the street in the direction of your apartment, grocery bags in hands. Passerbys' are probably wondering "college kids these days", and you could care less.
There's something about being in the rain, that rush where your heart races faster than your mind, the cool feeling of precipitation on your skin. It's almost as if you're inside a snow globe and the world around you is just a prop; you're the main character in this storybook, and Changbin's with you.
Five precise minutes later, you're panting, out of breath, and outside your apartment. "Where are the keys?" you suddenly remember.
"Wait." Changbin catches his breath and takes a moment to himself before he answers. "My left pocket. You're going to have to get it because I can't put my bags down on the floor. They'll soak right through."
"Fine. Your left or my left?" You're standing in front of him and oddly nervous. He's your roommate and close friend, but this is... strangely intimate.
"My left," he says. "Hurry up, Y/N. My hood's entirely soaked."
You huff and reach into his pocket. Why are the pockets of skinny jeans so annoyingly tight? It's like Changbin's asking to suffocate himself. "It's not my fault you decided to wear jeans on a day like this," you grumble, fingertips barely grazing the metal keys. Gosh, it's really hard to fetch the keys while trying to respect his personal space.
Changbin's speechless at your comment. "How was I supposed to know that it was going to rain? How was it my fault that I felt like wearing jeans today? You're ridiculous if that's what you're implying," he counters, smiling in disbelief.
"Shut up," you mutter, and the keys fall into your palm. "Got it-"
There are droplets of water on his eyelashes, and he's batting them away quickly. That's when you realize that he's soaked, and so are you.
You reach up to his face and lightly brush the raindrops off with your fingers, his soft lashes coming in contact with your skin.
Changbin's startled by your bold move and his brown eyes meet yours. You've never really taken time to take a good look at Changbin. He's actually sort of cute, and now that he has that shocked expression on his face - more so now than ever.
"I-I just thought you -that they might be irritating your eye and-"
" -is it okay if I kiss you?"
"Huh?"
In less than a split second, you feel his lips pressing against yours, warm against the cool wind blowing on your skin. He pulls you closer, arm wrapped around your back as you feel the paper bag collide with the back of your legs, and he holds you tight against him. It's a good first kiss, one that makes you smile stupidly for days and one that makes you flustered whenever you think back to it. Changbin deepens the kiss and smiles into it.
The rain makes everything more cinematic, like you're the main star of a movie who's engaged in the most cheesy, romantic kiss with a lover who's been away for years, and you're starting to see why people loved kissing in the rain.
He pulls away softly, and his cheeks are a shade pinker than before. His smile has never been brighter, even if he's out in the cold and completely drenched from head to toe.
You frown and give him a playful glare, missing the contact. "I never said yes, you know," you informed a matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, but you would have said yes," Changbin answers simply, shrugging his shoulders as he's still standing in the rain, waiting for you to open the door, arm securely around your back.
And like always, you hate it when he's right.
