Alright.
Changbin paced around the compact space of his living room, meandering quickly to match the speed his thoughts were racing at.
Nothing on the floors but the cheap carpet he continuously stubbed his toes on while he matched, every bit of grime covered trash wrapper he could scrounge up from the pits of Tartarus throw where they would never be seen again, any hints of lingering dust swept up by the taking hands of his broom's nylon and polypropylene scraping bristles. The apartment was more spotless this morning than it ever had been in the year he lived inside it's poorly painted walls. Sure, there were stains on the thrifted couch and a few trail marks from shoes on the upper wall (Don't ask). But everything he could get rid of to make the place hold the crisp mask he wanted to show off to his company, he did.
Alright, you can do this.
His nails dug into his biceps. Folded tightly over his chest, knotted up in a hard bundle, firmly wrapped, looped one over the other, fingers pressing so hard into the ink-covered skin he felt the forming imprints of irritation marks underneath the touch. The tattoos, although they looked badass on his skin, did not shield him against the pain his nails were clawing into him. Nor did they prepare him for how uncomfortably painful the taking would be; Having the tattoos drilled into his skin hurt, but the anxious crawl hooking down was mind numbing.
What's so bad about this anyway?
Changbin's nose scrunched up in thought, another loop of the living room completing what must have been his thousandth pace since that early morning.
Nervous? Him? Seo Changbin? No. Seo Changbin didn't know was nervousness was. He was fine. The reason he was pacing around his living room was not necessarily because he was nervous. The reason he spent from the first miniscule shimmer of the dawninf sunlight on the waking world to about ten minutes ago organizing his apartment, turning it upside down in all the best places possible, arranging the finest details down to the amount of dust specks relaxing on the underside of his kitchen table, was not because he was nervous. The reason he tried to find clothes that decently fit him, only to resort to his most comfortable pair of cargo pants and a lazy hoodie to not cluster his breathing, was not because he was nervous.
No.
Not at all.
Not even a little bi—
A knock rapped gently on the front door of his modest homestead.
Changbin lurched in surprise, nearly knocking over the cup of water he forgot on top of his end table in the process. And if the end table was actually just a dumbbell he had yet to put back in it's proper spot, he prayed the other wouldn't notice.
He arranged the cup on the dumbbell end table, ensuring it wouldn't fall again with a flurry of apologies meant to satisfy it's displeasure with being ruthlessly tipped to the side, before marching to the front door. And the person who waited outside. Both of his hands sweaty. The perspiration spilling from his palms enough to fill three reservoirs stuck in the middle of an avid drought. The soft thundering of his heart in his eardrums doing wonders for an excuse of a cardio exercise. Who needed to go for a jog in the morning, when he could ask his boyfriend to come over and have his heart beat the same amount?
Without allowing himself another second to quickly come up with an excuse to jump out the window and never be seen in the country again, Changbin violently ripped his front door open.
To meet Hyunjin.
Standing casually in his doorway. Beautiful, stupid little puppy eyes wide with a surprise before they melted away into a soft smile.
He pocketed the phone gripped in his hand swiftly into his jeans, yes, jeans. Rather than the prim and proper business slacks he always tried to sport on a daily basis. Mr. Corporate Hotshot was wearing those scarcely seen faded blue jeans with little rips in the knees, the same he wore the day out to the concert they caught together, paired with the usual stark white button up that the older became accustomed to and a forest umber brown fleece-lined bomber jacket that was fitted too well to his torso to not be noticed. Plus the cute little necklace he wore with a cute little spikey sun pendant on the end. Somehow, Hyunjin looked more relaxed and confident in this casual wear than he ever did in his business attire.
At this point, Changbin wasn't even bothered to come up with a reason on why he was focusing too much on Hyunjin's outfit.
Changbin was a simple man.
And Hyunjin looked hot.
End of story. No excuses needed.
"Sorry, hey, come in," The older startled out of his gaping, a light shake of his head rattling the rest of the lingering fuzziness away. Like cotton balls glued themselves to his brain and his thoughts, soaking up every little intricate detail of the younger that floated by in the air instead of anything productive. Like when his taxes were due that year. With the other unaware to him wanting to send a sledgehammer through his own head for not being able to focus, Changbin opened the door a little wider for him to enter, "Do you want anything to drink? A beer? Water? Need some duck tape? Some ice cream?"
"I'm alright for now," Hyunjin laughed his usual airy bubbles at the bombardment of question. He stepped inside and toed his shoes off at the entrance, head already on a swivel as he traversed deeper into the unknown world, "So, this is your place? It's cozy!"
Changbin resisted the urge to make a snarky comment about how 'cozy' the apartment was, particularly about the fact he had to scrub dirt off the floors an hour ago because he forgot Jeongin shoved dirt in his coat pocket when he wasn't looking, about a week ago. He bit his tongue, shutting and locking the door as he sighed a fast, "Yeah. It's not much. Not nearly as nice as yours, but, it's enough for me. Feel free to look around and wander. I have nothing to hide."
The younger hummed an acknowledgement and a cast 'alright' beneath his breath, already busying himself with scanning over every inch of the cramped space. With a slight worry and nervousness causing his heart to drum, Changbin leaned against the wall and observed Hyunjin. Wandering by the thrifted couch, a familiarity glimmering in his eyes no doubt from the video calls they communicated through while the older lounged on the cushions, his fingers gracing over the fabric. Eyes chasing across to the television, the reflection that met his gaze greeting him with a friendliness. Then circling back, feet shuffling across the funky carpet with a smile. That smile widening when he caught sight of the unfortunate situation of the end table.
To be completely honest, Hyunjin looked so far out of place, Changbin would have thought he was a robber who broke in to steal what little of his lives fortunes were still around.
Where should he start?
Hyunjin was refined. He is refined, like sparkling cut edges of designer gems perched on high-class jewelry. He's elegant, proper, carrying a certain air of knowing about him even on the days when his tired legs couldn't carry him another step. That didn't disregard the fact he had a fun side to him; The silly jokes and cheerful smiles he pointed to Changbin, the hint of mischief floating around in the glints of his eyes. But, through that all he was still, elegant. Put-together. Collected. Expensive. Even if he wasn't wearing name brands or his tailored business attire, even if he was wearing worn clothes, he gave the feeling of pure money.
First, Changbin himself was lucky his hair laid flat when he combed it this morning.
Second, his apartment was lucky it didn't look like a tornado hit it. Which it usually did. On most days.
Yet, if the softening of his eyes and the relaxing of his exhausted shoulders was anything to go off of, Hyunjin seemed content with the train wreck of a living space. He seemed completely satisfied with it, maybe even a little... Jealous of it? Despite the small size, and the scuff mark on the wall Changbin knew he spotted as soon as a soft 'huh...' left his lips.
Changbin thumped his forehead onto the wall next to him and watched the other explore with his own grin on his lips. Whispering lightly in his own mind, This isn't half as bad as I thought it would be. The night is young! But at least he doesn't hate it.
Hyunjin meandered over to the eclectic collection of various trinkets he stacked up on what was no doubt supposed to be a book shelf off to the side of the living room. He wasn't much for reading, and he couldn't dismount the casing from the wall, so why waste the space? His smile seemed to widened as he looked over the various gimmicks; A few figurines from TV shows Changbin collected over the years, a sparkly rock he found on the beach the last time he visited that he thought looked cool, an obnoxiously bright yellow sponge with two rattling googly eyes that followed wherever the young businessman traversed, and finally the friend that shared the shelf with it. A small bulb of a pastel green with pricked out pokes of painted white and a ceramic smiley face stuck to it, stuffed into a delicately colored pot.
Hyunjin plucked the remembrance off the shelf, rotating it in his view as a breathy laugh soared from his lips with something like excitement, "You kept the cactus statue!"
"I did, yup. I named it Mildred. Mildred the cactus."
"What's this?" The younger gestured his head to a figure formulated of vibrant primary colors at the end of the shelf.
"That is my pride and joy. It's one of those Gundam mech figurines you build yourself. It had been sitting in my closet since I was like... 15. Had a mental breakdown one day, built it, and decided to get my life together after that. I call it the 'Get your Gun-damn shit together' monument."
"That's a clever name. I never had the chance to do any of the Gundam sets when I was growing up."
"What? No way. Those were my childhood. We can build one together one day."
"I would love that," Hyunjin admitted, the edge of his lips quirking up again at the older. He meticulously, tilting his head at an uncomfortable angle to see when the bottom of the cactus pot leveled out, set the statue in his hand back to the shelf. Back to it's friend of the googly eyed sponge, back to the throne it perched atop of. He carefully backed away, eyes sweeping over the living room again as he wandered back to where Changbin waited, "And your bedroom is over there?"
"The place I sleep most frequently is over there, yes. The door on the right, left is bathroom. Take a look at my room if you're curious, you'll see it at one point or another," Changbin offered up, gesturing with his hands which firmly closed doors he was referring to during his speech.
With a silent curiosity evident in the glittering of his saucer wide eyes, Hyunjin pressed off from their spot to scout the mentioned room.
Something in the back of Changbin's mind blared.
Before the other could go too far, Changbin hissed, "Uh, wait, don't look or reach under my bed."
"What's under your bed?" Hyunjin furrowed his eyebrows. Worry evidently spreading through his features.
He admitted, "It's my sword collection."
"Is that a euphemism?" The younger scrunched his face even more.
"No," Changbin blanked at him. Face going completely neutral to prove his point. When all he was given was more of that concerned look and suspicious quiet firmly rooting the younger in his spot, he pressed off from his happy perch and wandered to the mentioned bedroom. Shoving open the mentioned door too, the evening sunlight coursing in from the bedroom's blinds spilling out into the main apartment space. Both a light pride and a light shame dusting the rips of his ears and the nerves at the edge of his fingertips as the younger wordlessly followed after him. Like a damn, stupid little adorable puppy that held every single one of his heartstrings like they were attached to their own leash and firmly tightened collar. Like he was the puppy, and Hyunjin was the rightful owner.
First checking over his shoulder to see where the younger stood, Changbin crouched by the bedside, then reached underneath the narrow space for the familiar feeling of a cool touch. Upon finding it, taking it into a strong grip, standing firmly, and pulling the heavy length of the polished and sharpened metal blade from the leather sheath it lived inside.
Changbin presented the medieval style long sword to Hyunjin, ensuring the blade stayed tipped downward to not accidentally damage either of them. He told simply, "Sword."
"Oh... That's..." The younger stammered around his tongue. Words seemingly lost inside the gleaming warped reflection of the blade, as if the silver sheen was a jail for any and all sentences he could force out at that moment. His words, and the light shock which hadn't yet dissolved from the wide angle his eyes opened at, unblinking as he was absorbed into the weapon. Only shaking free from it after a good minute or so of his overworked mind catching up to the processes of the world with a few blinks and finger twitched that carried his thoughts back to reality. Slowly, Hyunjin let out a deep exhale, "Literal. You literally own swords. Okay."
Changbin gripped harder on the long sword's hilt, ensuring the other saw he kept a good handle on it. To not worry him. To make sure he knew he wasn't about to die via long sword in the 21st century. Though a vague part of his mind wondered why Hyunjin's gaze chased upward to his forearms and wrists whenever he steadied the blade with a fastened grip. Ignoring the way his eyes were boring into his loosely flexed bicep, he explained, "It was an impulse buy. And then, I got another one because it looked lonely. Then that one needed a friend. Now I have a sword collection so, I said not to look because I didn't want to freak you out and I didn't want you to reach so you don't cut your fingers. Some of them don't have sheaths."
Hyunjin looked up from his staring, gawking down Changbin with those stupid shimmery loving puppy eyes, "You're so much more of a dork then I thought you would be."
"Says the Dungeons and Dragons enthusiast," Changbin scrunched his nose up as he shot back with the tease.
"You caught me there," The younger snorted hard, his lips turning up into a wide grin. Although his eyes flickered down to the metal blade, he scooted closer and set a hand on Changbin's bicep, wondering gently, "May I kiss you?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"For consent?"
"You're dating me?"
"That doesn't mean I shouldn't ask for consent."
"You don't have to? I mean... If you don't want to..."
"I want to. It'll make me feel better. And if I overstep you can cut my head off with the big sword."
Changbin glanced down to the long sword. Then to his boyfriend. He whispered a shy, "Not too nerdy?"
"Actually, I think it's kind of badass," Hyunjin smiled softly at him, cheeks squishing up into that classic charming grin that originally ensnared the older in the first place with his upturn eyes, still a light exhaustion clinging to the redness in them, and the incredibly delicious looking, bite-able cheeks. Was that a way to describe cheeks in the first place? As perfectly plush and marshmallow-like, as if he was convinced his teeth would sink into their puff and he would taste nothing but an overload of candy sweetness on his tongue. As two little pillows of perfection, yes he had seen beautiful cheeks (On the face!) before, but none of them matched up to the magnitude of magnificence Hyunjin's were. Proportionally perfect. Cheerfully clear. Blindingly bright.
Before Changbin could lean forward and see if his hypothesis about the other's cheeks was correct, Hyunjin scooted in first. Maintaining that wide smile, he graced his fingers over Changbin's tattoos until they looped loosely around his bracelet.
"Could you put the sword away for now so I can kiss you? You're right, that blade is super sharp."
"Oh! Yeah, sorry."
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