everything is beautiful in its time

by jangjoos

Summary:

A collection of bits and pieces and (beautiful) moments in time.
-
I'm kidding. It's just my drabble collection. Come in if you're craving some bite-sized Oneus snippets from various AUs

Notes:

hello! i suppose that this place will basically amount to my Scream Zone. if i find anything old or if i finish anything short, it'll prolly end up in here. i have no intention to finish any of these as individual fics and i very probably won't, so just keep that in mind, yeah?

Chapter 1: xido modern royalty

Summary:

modern royalty! au. geonhak's the son of a rich ceo and dongju is the prince of korea. please don't ask me about the economic ramifications and historical conditions required for this to happen i simply wanted to write smth with fancy vibes. thank you

“It’s been nice seeing you again, hyung,” Geonhak said genuinely, clinking his glass against Youngjo’s. “It’d be wonderful if we could catch up sometime.”

“That’d be perfect.” Youngjo agreed. He took a small, catlike sip before giving him a wave. “You have my number, right? Just give me the word! Love you!”

Geonhak found himself rolling his eyes at the endearment as Youngjo disappeared into the sea of people on the ballroom floor. 

“Love you too, hyung,” he said quietly. However annoying his sudden and frequent confessions could be, it was certainly nice to be able to find a friend like him in a circle like this. 

Parties held by the Imperial family were great. Free champagne, free food, dances, and beautiful people. Venue sizes meant that they could be prohibitively massive, but they were usually limited to the very highest berths of society, and just receiving an invitation was the greatest existing sign of social validation. Not that Geonhak ever needed any social validation, having been born and raised into obscene wealth himself, but he supposed that the reminder was always nice.

Not to mention, the palace was absolutely gorgeous . 

Geonhak placed his empty flute on one of the attendants’ trays as a group of them walked by, starting over to the tower to grab another. 

As the primary residence of the Imperial family, Gyeongbokgung’s interior has seen a high volume of refurbishments and remodeling in the past few years. This party essentially marked the palace’s first official opening after almost a decade of construction. The place had retained its traditional architecture and charm, with intricate patterns of green, blue, and gold woven amongst verdant red pillars and frames like the shades of the sea at sunset. However, there was a certain touch of simplicity to the design that hadn’t previously existed. The tapestries and patterns on the walls flowed through the entire hall, chandeliers with fiery designs hung from the ceiling, tall windows made the room appear so much bigger than it actually was. Banquet tables covered by tablecloths embellished with red, blue, and gold had been lined up along the sides of three walls, and the halls were decorated with elaborate sculptures and displays.

Geonhak finished his next flute of champagne in no time at all. He came with Seoho, but at some point, he’d lost him in the crowd. With little else to do, he began to make his way over to where Keonhee was making conversation with a couple of men in navy suits. But when he saw a flash of red and gold in the corner of his eye, slinking away into the corner of the ballroom, he followed without thinking.

He found the youngest prince of Korea on one of the bridges over the moat, leaning pensively on the railing with one hand and holding a flute of champagne in another. It was a clear night, and from the sky, the moon was staring intently at its identical twin reflected on the surface water.

“What, Your Royal Highness? Flaking at your own party?” 

Dongju turned around. His eyes were just as clear, bright, and curious as Geonhak remembered them, and he always thought that the Prince somewhat resembled a baby deer, or a bunny in the springtime. Something wild, something delicate. 

Dongju laughed, and it was a sound that made Geonhak’s heart ache in the strangest ways. It echoed into the night, bouncing off the garden pond and permeating the deepest troughs of his memories. “It’s not my party, technically. And I’m just getting some air.”

These days, it was hard for them to avoid each other. They were both heirs, and often shared the same duties and frequented the same events despite their families having very different claims to wealth and fame. Furthermore, after the media shitstorm that their last encounter had caused, it has become even more difficult for them to interact in any sense without fearing the paparazzi, rumors, and prying eyes.

“Why are you here, hyung?”

The Prince of Korea called him hyung . That, already, should have been a ridiculous thought, but he’d learned to get used to it in time.

Geonhak shrugged. “I was wondering where you were going.”

They stood in silence for a very long time. Geonhak leaned over the railing as well, gazed at the moon, at the flowers on the other end of the royal gardens. 

“How have you been, Your Highness?”

Dongju closed his eyes.

“You can just call me by my name, hyung,” he told him quietly. “We’ve been over this.”

Cautiously, hesitantly, Geonhak put an arm around the small of Dongju’s back. 

“Dongju,” he said, trying his best to sound clipped yet savoring the syllables on his tongue. He gestured to the garden that surrounded them. The banquet hall sat just a few yards away, humming with activity and casting light from its windows. “We’re not exactly in private right now.”

Dongju rolled his eyes, reclining into his touch. “Does it matter? We might as well be.” 

He was right. There was nobody out here, and there wasn’t much of a chance that anyone would leave the banquet hall so early. 

Dongju turned around. His eyes were like the garden pond at night, wide and clear and reflecting the full moon and the few stars visible in the Seoul sky. And then, as if to completely undermine Geonhak’s concerns, he leaned forward to give him a kiss. 

That caught Geonhak off guard. He moved to the side a little, which made Dongju’s lips land on the corner of his mouth instead of the middle. He felt his pout against his skin.

“Here.” Geonhak cupped both of Dongju’s cheeks and pressed a deep kiss onto his mouth proper. Dongju giggled into it, pulling the two of them closer together. By the time they parted, Dongju was practically doubling over in laughter.

“I missed you,” Dongju said earnestly. “I’ve missed you a lot.” 

It was just the two of them, Geonhak thought. For once, it was just the two of them. And that, he found, was that much more dangerous than being in the eye of any paparazzi. 

“I’d better be going.” Geonhak awkwardly pulled his arm away from Dongju’s back. “There were some. Investors. I wanted to talk to.” A pause. “About investments.”

“Right.” Dongju pursed his lips. “I’d best check up on Myeong. He might’ve crashed the champagne tower again.”

“Next time?” Geonhak asked quietly. Dongju smiled thinly, giving him a mute nod. He had already started to walk away from the bridge, but somehow, he thought he heard him repeat it.

Chapter 2: seodo established relationship fluff

Summary:

seoho, geonhak, cuddling, and anime. what's not to love?

Notes:

this was supposed to be part of a 5+1 where seodo are oblivious best friends and they hold hands a bunch of times but like. i just decided that i simply Did Not Vibe with whatever i was trying to write so u get this snippet of weeb!seoho and whipped!geonhak instead. ur welcome

Geonhak gets back to the apartment late on a crisp winter afternoon, taking his shoes off and kicking them to the side of the mat. It’s beginning to get dark outside; with the cold night breeze and the bite of winter air, he’s relieved to finally be indoors again. Seoho’s watching something loud and obnoxious on the TV. As soon as Geonhak enters the room, Seoho begins to complain, which is really the exact thing he’s come to expect from his roommate at this point. However, he’s found that the topic of complaint is always a brand new surprise each time.

“He’s cutting the fish so thick! Why is he cutting it so thick! This is a complete disaster. He’s short on time, it’s not going to cook all the way through, and he’s going to lose!”

He tosses his laptop bag on the armchair and sits down next to Seoho on the couch, shuffling close to absorb some warmth. The cold air from outside is still singing on his skin, nipping at his fingers and cheeks. From the way Seoho was talking, he expects to see some kind of Master Chef-esque cooking show. Instead, the screen is filled with cartoon people with ridiculously colorful hair serving really beautifully animated food. Personally, Geonhak sees nothing wrong with the fish. It’s picture-perfect in a way only cartoons can be.

Squinting at the screen, he asks: “have you ever even cooked in your life?”

Seoho huffs, hugging the cushion in his arms tighter and scooching just a little bit closer to Geonhak’s side. And he’ll never admit it, but that makes his heart jump just a little bit. Especially as of late, all of Seoho makes his heart jump. Just a little bit.

“It doesn’t matter. I know everything I need to know from anime.”

Geonhak takes advantage of the proximity and shoves him. “Nerd.” Against his better judgement, he keeps watching. The fish guy does end up losing and Seoho gloats, but Geonhak thinks that it’s less proof that Seoho has any actual cooking knowledge and more so a product of the fact that Seoho’s seen this particular episode at least a million times at this point.

“You should cook more often,” Geonhak says nonchalantly, “since you allegedly know so much about it. From anime.”

Seoho scrunches his nose. They both know he’s tried it, and Geonhak doesn’t even want to think about the mango cheesecake he’d attempted last time. It was such a waste of perfectly delicious mangoes. “There’s a big difference between theoretical expertise and practical expertise, Doya.”

“Okay.” 

They sit for a while and watch the rest of the episode. To Seoho’s weeb credit, the end song kinda slaps, but Geonhak’s eyelids are drooping by the time the next episode starts up.

Suddenly, Seoho frowns. “You’re cold.” He looks at the coat rack, then at the couch, then at Geonhak. “It was cold outside, isn’t it? Didn’t you wear a coat today?”

“Sn’t that cold,” Geonhak mumbles. “M’fine.”

Suddenly, Seoho take’s Geonhak’s hand, lacing their fingers together and winces at the contact. Geonhak’s breath hitches. 

“Liar. Your hands are freezing .” Seoho clicks his tongue. He squeezes Geonhak’s hand, then strokes his fingers along the back of his palm. “And they’re so dry. I keep telling you to moisturize. You never do.”

God, Seoho’s hands are so, so warm and soft. And it’s hardly surprising, because sometimes, Geonhak’s convinced that Seoho isn’t just the human embodiment of sunshine-- he’s literally the sun in human form. Rays of light come off of his face every time he laughs. He gives light, radiates warmth in both a metaphorical sense and a literal one. 

Geonhak’s mind simply turns off. 

“Really should,” he says idly. “M’sorry.”

Seoho rolls his eyes, settling even closer to him. “Don’t apologize to me, you buffoon. Take care of yourself.”

“Okay,” Geonhak hears himself say. For you.

Chapter 3: xido

Summary:

just a little snippet of xiondo walking around town in winter

"Cold yet?" Geonhak asks while he adjusts Dongju's scarf. It would be better if Dongju didn't scratch at it so often, but alas, Dongjus will be Dongjus.

"Not at all!" Dongju exclaims, puffing out his chest as if to prove his point. Needless to say, the display is not very convincing. He is shivering and his face is red. Geonhak rolls his eyes and plucks Dongju's iced americano out of his hands.

"Let me hold this," he mutters, almost as an afterthought. "Your hand is shaking."

"It is not!"

It is.

"I can't believe you got a cold drink in the middle of winter," Geonhak sighs. When Dongju leans forward, he reluctantly lets him take a sip.

"I can't believe you got a hot chocolate," Dongju retorts, "like, how old are you?"

"It's the drink of the season! And coffee's bitter." 

Dongju shakes his head. "You're so weird, hyung." He stutters his words a little as he shivers.

Still holding the americano, Geonhak lifts Dongju's sleeve with his free hand and takes his hand. It's also very, very cold, and Geonhak makes a mental note to buy him a nice pair of gloves as soon as he has the chance. He'll probably protest at first, as a show, but in Geonhak's experience, Dongju has never exactly been the type to reject nice things. 

"You're clearly freezing, Ju. Let's get you home."

Dongju hides a smile underneath his scarf. It's easy to tell that he's smiling when you look at his eyes. He leans closer to Geonhak, as if trying to soak up as much of his warmth as possible.

"Fine."

They decide to spend the rest of the day on the couch watching Christmas movies and laughing at cheesy holiday commercials, with Dongju curled up on Geonhak's chest and Geonhak's fingers running through his hair. They don't make it far into their marathon; within less than twenty minutes, Dongju is sound asleep in Geonhak's arms.

Notes:

xiondo is my emotional support snippet ship if u can't already tell. i think i wrote this a year ago while waiting at an airport and only edited a bit it's definitely not up to standard, but yeah

you'll have to forgive me for romanticizing winter so much. it's like, half the year over here, so might as well make the best of it :^)

Chapter 4: seodo mermaid au

Summary:

Geonhak is a shark. I promise this makes a modicum of sense in the actual drabble. I think.

Seoho deftly wove his way around the reef, tail swiveling to avoid corals and schools of tiny fish. The ocean was bright today, sunlight streaming into the depths and accentuating the colors of the deep blue waters, the reefs, and the rocks. There was a chasm up ahead, splitting the shallows and opening up to a deep, dark abyss. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” He called out into the darkness. Just a few seconds ago, he thought he saw a familiar grey fin disappear behind one of the cliffs, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. It wasn’t strange; Geonhak moved fast, and he was almost always moving.

There was no reply. Seoho sighed to himself, and bubbles rose to the surface. So this was the game that Geonhak wanted to play. He took a moment to steel himself, to gather up the courage, then dove straight into the depths. 

It wasn’t quite the twilight zone, not here, but little sunlight from the reef reached the shelves on the ravine. Maybe Geonhak could see better down here, but Seoho’s eyes, accustomed to the light of the shallows, had to squint in order to make out shapes and avoid bumping into rocks and the occasional lobster. He stuck to the cliffs, making sure that he’d be able to find his way back no matter how far he swam. 

“Geonhak?” Seoho called, but his voice dissipated into watery echoes. “Geonhak!” 

He paused for a moment to scan his surroundings. Then, a flash of yellow appeared just ahead of him, and he immediately started swimming over as fast as he could. 

“I know you’re there, Geonhak! Give it up already!” 

At this point, Seoho was getting tired. His tail was strong, sure, but as an angelfish, he wasn’t exactly used to swimming long distances in deep water. Once again, Geonhak was a dirty, dirty cheater, but it’s whatever. He stopped again to catch his breath, having lost sight of whatever it was he just saw, holding on to the cliff to keep himself balanced. 

Suddenly, the current shifted, and that was the only warning Seoho had before something came tumbling out of one of the caves. He had a second to react before Geonhak charged right into him, and both of them went tumbling backward in one big lump. 

“Does that mean I win?” Geonhak said cockily, pinning Seoho to the seafloor. 

Seoho rolled his eyes and tried to push him off, but he was too strong, so he opted to just go limp. “You’re a cheater. You aren’t supposed to move around while you’re hiding.”

“Sorry. I literally have to keep swimming. Shark things, you know.” Geonhak grinned, revealing a row of sharp teeth as if proving a point. And not for the first time, Seoho wondered if he should be afraid of him. Someone like Geonhak could literally end him in a single bite, his arms strong enough to snap his neck like a toothpick, but whenever they were together, well. He felt safe. Braver and bolder than he would be otherwise, like Geonhak could protect him from all the scary life-forms beneath the mesopelagic zone, all the rumored horrors of the deep.

Seoho struggled again, and this time, Geonhak let him up. “That’s a lie and you know it,” he told him, dusting sand off of his tail. 

Geonhak bumped him affectionately, then began to swim in circles around him. “Come on, Seoho. You got to hide in the reefs. You had the advantage of home turf. It’s only fair.”

At that, Seoho hummed. He stopped Geonhak by grabbing him by the forearm, looked into his eyes, and bumped their foreheads together. Geonhak smiled thinly, and Seoho couldn’t help but let out a giggle in response. 

“You’re so cute,” Geonhak said fondly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

Seoho prayed that it was dark enough such that the blush on his face wouldn’t be visible. “Say that about yourself,” he mumbled.

“I’m not cute! I’m big and scary.”

“And cute,” Seoho insisted, sitting down to inspect Geonhak’s tail. 

The scales on Geonhak’s tail were rough like coarse sand. Or tiny teeth. Now that was a funny thought-- Geonhak was covered in millions of tiny, tiny teeth, and here Seoho was, running his hands through them as if he were patting down his hair. 

Geonhak wrinkled his nose in the way that scrunched up his entire face. “That tickles.”

“Should’ve thought of that before having ticklish skin.”

The scales ran halfway up his waist and all the way up his back, complete with a long dorsal fin to help him swim. Seoho didn’t really like that fin; it made back hugs unnecessarily difficult. 

Eventually, Geonhak sat down next to Seoho and rested his head on his shoulder like it belonged there. Even his hair was rough, itchy on Seoho’s skin, but Seoho simply closed his eyes and lost himself in the moment. Hours passed, schools of anchovies swam by, the sun moved over the abyss, and neither of them moved a muscle. 

It was just the two of them down here, and they had just about all the time in the world. 

Notes:

this was also crossposted on twitter but yeah. result of my tl going wild over seodo at 12am nd i Had to write smth, you know? also happy mermay <3

Chapter 5: xido dragon au

Notes:

howdy folks im sorry ive been. kinda eh lately. this is a bit of an old drabble but i feel like ill go crazy if i dont post anything so here u go :D

One step after another, upon one rock after another, Dongju climbed. Gripping onto a ledge after stepping up on another, scampering up a cliff after hauling himself up another, he climbed and climbed and climbed. Pebbles tumbled down the mountain face, every stone threatened to give under his feet, but still Dongju climbed. The afternoon sun bore down upon his dark hair, and beads of sweat dripped down his forehead. With every rock he scaled, the sword on his belt dug into his thigh, harmless in its scabbard but uncomfortable nevertheless. Yet still, Dongju climbed.

Scaling the mountain’s face was a perilous task, but thankfully, it was a short one. Dongju adeptly hauled himself up the last cliff, collapsing upon its ledge with a deep exhale. The hardest part was behind him. All that lay before him now was a rocky path, winding but relatively flat. With practice, it was relatively easy to navigate. Dongju made it to the end before the sun travelled to the other side of the spire. 

The mouth of a cave opened up before him. Dongju drew his sword with one hand, holding a stick he found on the way up the mountain with the other. Whenever he struck the dagger’s blade on the cliff face, a shower of sparks fell, but it took a couple of tries for him to get the stick to light.

And Dongju walked in with his makeshift torch in hand. He heard deep snores like thunder ring across the darkness. There was a deep booming noise that sounded more like a continuous stream of cannon shots than a heartbeat. And yet, that was what it was. 

His scales were silver. Illuminated only by Dongju’s torch, they appeared to glow a warm red, pulsing like molten rock. The spines on his back glittered. His wings were huge, but torn.

“I’m here,” Dongju whispered, reaching out a hand and putting it carefully on his snout. “You up?”

He opened his eyes, eyes that glowed a striking gold, eyes that were so big Dongju that could see his entire face in them. He regarded Dongju for a split second before practically snorting a shower of sparks into his face. 

“Rude,” Dongju said, shielding his face. 

Within seconds, the dragon was gone. A very unimpressed and cranky Geonhak was sitting against the wall instead, fixing his hair and dusting himself off.

“Announce yourself before you come in, Son Dongju,” Geonhak huffed. “I almost burnt you to a crisp.” 

Dongju sat down next to him, glancing at him with false hurt. “You didn’t recognize me?” 

“Look, all I saw was the silhouette of a boy with a sword hanging off his belt. For all I know, you could’ve been a scrawny knight here to challenge me for my damsel.”

A pile of firewood remained from Dongju’s last visit. There, Dongju tossed the torch, which immediately caught the rest of the wood and flared up into a roaring bonfire.

Then, he drew his sword and hummed. The metallic noise echoed across the cave. 

“I wasn’t aware that you had a damsel.” Illuminated by the flames, his reflection flickered on the blade. Geonhak leaned close, and his own image joined Dongju’s on the steel. 

“Of course. All dragons do.” As the flames danced over to the mouth of the cave, ever so slightly dimming their light, Geonhak grinned a grin that Dongju’s eyes barely caught. “What, are you jealous?” 

“Mm.” Dongju’s lips puckered into a pout. “I thought I was your damsel.”

Geonhak laughed. The sound was like sparks cracking off firewood, like a bard’s song on a summer night. There was, of course, something deep and sonorous about the way he spoke, but it was nothing compared to his laugh. That sound, accompanied by the way his eyes turned into crescent moons, the way his smile lit up his face, was something truly magical. 

“What if I told you that you were right?”

Dongju could only hope that Geonhak couldn’t see the color of his cheeks in the firelight.

“I’d be flattered.” 

To that, Geonhak smiled a gentle smile. The flame flickered, and Dongju’s heart skipped a beat. 

“I’m glad I could flatter you, Your Highness.” Geonhak’s palm cupped Dongju’s cheeks, his hands extremely cold to the touch. Reptilian. He ran his fingers down Dongju’s jaw and under his chin, tipped his face upwards. A chill ran down Dongju’s spine. He had been painfully aware of how warm his cheeks were, and now, so was Geonhak. 

Geonhak leaned close. The kiss started off like a spark, a touch, something small yet dangerous. Geonhak’s lips felt like they could burn, a sharp contrast to his ice-cold fingers. The spark caught, and it then grew into a flame, then a bonfire, then a raging inferno. 

By the time they parted, Dongju felt like he could barely breathe. Geonhak’s fingers were still holding his chin, but they no longer felt nearly as cold.

“It’s been so long,” murmured Geonhak. “I missed this. I missed you.”

Dongju looked to the ground with a sigh. He found Geonhak’s fingers and laced them with his own. “I’m sorry I don’t visit as often.”

“What? No, it’s fine.” Geonhak scooted closer, buried his face in the crook of his neck.  “You’re the prince. I’m happy you visit at all.”

Dongju hummed, leaning into him. 

“My parents want to marry me off.”

Geonhak laughed again, right into Dongju’s skin.

“I’m not surprised. You probably have suitors all over you.”

“It’s exhausting. I don’t want them.” Dongju idly ran his fingers through Geonhak’s hair.

“Maybe I should make it a challenge. I’ll marry whoever saves me from the fierce and dangerous dragon holding me captive.”

Geonhak snorted. “Great. Another chance to crush a bunch of scrawny knights.” 

“And then,” Dongju said, nudging him, “You can have me all to yourself.”

“But aren’t you already mine?” Geonhak looked up at him. The firelight stained his brown eyes a faint red.

Dongju leaned close and pressed another kiss on his lips. It was a small, innocent thing, but sparks still flew in his chest.

“Always,” he whispered.

He put his arms around Geonhak’s wide shoulders and pulled him closer, traced circles on his back. He felt Geonhak shudder, which briefly made him wonder whether or not his scars still hurt. They used to fly above the mountains and beyond the skies, challenging the wind and braving rain and thunder. They couldn’t do that anymore. Not after Geonhak had lost his wings. 

He talked big about crushing scrawny knights, but it was one of those scrawny knights that had rendered the king of dragons flightless.

Notes:

squints i keep writing geonhak as big scary toothy but gentle creatures huh

Chapter 6: xiho fairy au

Summary:

In which Seoho is a fairy and Dongju is a human who magically gets turned fairy-sized. Also, there is a hummingbird named Kermit.

So Dongju watches, as Seoho leaps onto one of the leaves, wings fluttering a bit to boost his jump. He lands gracefully, and the leaf shivers just a bit at his weight. His wings looked tiny to Dongju while he was human-sized, but now he can see that they’re relatively large, spanning about twice the height of Seoho’s body. They’re pretty, too. Orange, not unlike the color of his hair, with black markings that remind Dongju of a monarch butterfly.

“Hey, aren’t you coming?” Seoho peers down at him. “Scared, or something?”

“You know I don’t have wings, right?” 

Seoho blinks. “Then climb up the thorns.”

When Dongju fails to reply, going pale, Seoho lets out a laugh. He sits down, dangling his legs off of the leaf’s edge. The leaf shivers once again, and that does nothing to calm Dongju’s anxieties. 

“A big, scary human terrified of climbing a little flower. Now I’ve seen it all.”

“It’s not that!” Dongju hates how defensive he’s getting. “I’m just...I don’t want to hurt my mom’s roses. She worked hard growing them.”

Even he knows how weak this excuse is. There’s not a chance that he’ll damage them at this size, small enough to tuck himself between the petals and remain completely hidden. To his surprise, Seoho doesn’t laugh at him this time. Instead, he gives him a reassuring smile and holds out a hand.

“I promise the thorns won’t hurt you if you’re careful. Come on, I’ll even help you!” Seoho moves to his side and leans on the stalk. “Unless you’re scared of heights?”

“I’m not scared of heights,” Dongju mutters, and by the way Seoho widens his grin, he probably heard it and doesn’t believe him one bit. 

With a deep breath, fueled by the desire to prove Seoho wrong, Dongju grabs on to the tapered end of one of the first thorns, centimetres (nanometres?) away from the sharpened tip. The climb isn’t nearly as difficult as it looks, to Dongju’s relief. It’s just like climbing a rock wall-- that is, if the rocks jutted out of the wall and looked like they could stab his palms if he grabbed onto them the wrong way. Seoho might be mean, but he keeps his word, staying close to Dongju and helping him every step of the way. Dongju notices that his hands run oddly warm.

Once they're on a leaf just under the highest flower, Seoho pauses for a second, leaning against the stem.

“I’m not entirely sure how to help you. I’ve never seen this happen to a human before.” He’s looking directly at Dongju, and for the first time, Dongju realizes that his eyes are a brilliant shade of green. “Well. Whatever happened to you, I wish it’d happened to me, too. I’d love to trap you under a glass and see how you like it.”

Dongju huffs. “I said I was sorry.”

“You’re so cute,” Seoho says, reaching up to ruffle his hair. That’s when Dongju realizes that he’s been pouting, so he quickly switches his face to a more neutral expression that probably doesn’t look all that natural. “I’ll take you to our High Prince. He knows a lot more than me, so.” 

“Cool! Where does he live?”

Seoho points over to the west. “In the woods just over that hill.” 

That makes Dongju go pale all over again. He’s been there before, in his regular size, but it’s a long walk even then. Seoho probably flies there, but....

As if he can tell what he’s thinking about, Seoho laughs. “Look far? Don’t worry, I’ll call my friend.”

The thought of meeting another fairy makes Dongju hesitate, but before he could ask, Seoho scrambles to the top of the flower and whistles loudly. A green hummingbird flutters in, wings blowing a breeze that makes Dongju hold on to the nearest thorn for stability. It perches next to Seoho on the rose, and it’s so large compared to them that Seoho has to reach up to scratch the feathers under its beak affectionately. 

“How are you, Kermit?” 

Dongju blinks. “That’s their name?”

“Yeah. It’s cute, no? Just like him.” 

To that, Dongju decides not to say anything. But he does realize, with a jolt, that this is the same hummingbird that he sees in the garden sometimes. Does he roam around when Seoho doesn’t need him? Does Seoho bring him to his garden, specifically, to feed his hummingbird? The thought is just a tiny bit gratifying. 

“Do you all ride hummingbirds?” Dongju asks, tentatively reaching out to touch Kermit’s feathers. To his surprise, Kermit immediately leans into him, making a small rumbly noise that sounds a bit like. Purring?

“Nope,” Seoho says, popping the ‘p’. “My friend, Keonhee? He rides moths because he’s a baby and he’s afraid of birds.” 

“And moths are less scary?”

“I don’t really get it either. His moth is like, twice the size of Kermit over here.” Seoho lets out a chuckle, scratching the back of Kermit’s head. “I’m a bit scared of it myself.”

Dongju shudders at the thought of a giant moth, but the more immediate thought of riding a hummingbird scares him more.

“So will you fly, or will I fly, or.” His eyes go wide. “Will I have to steer him?”

“No way. I don’t trust you. Here.” Seoho closes his eyes for a second. His wings grow a bit more transparent, and a few moments later, they’re gone completely. “You can hold on to me.”

Seoho climbs onto Kermit first, holding out a hand to invite Dongju up. Like Seoho, Kermit runs quite warm, though it’s not at all unpleasant. When Dongju nervously places both of his hands on Seoho’s (now wingless) shoulders, Seoho makes a small tsking noise. 

“What are you doing? You’ll fall off like that.” Seoho grabs Dongju’s hands and places them on his waist, and Dongju only has a second to once again be alarmed by both the contact and the difference between their body temperatures. And Seoho, the absolute shit, smiles like he knows that this gesture has Dongju flustered. “Hold on tight, now.”

So Dongju locks his fingers together around Seoho’s waist and braces himself for the worst.

Notes:

im sorry i cant help loving xiseodo

Chapter 7: seodo college catboys

Summary:

catboy cuddles. bottom text

Seoho isn’t completely sure about how much time passes before he’s blinking himself awake. He’s not too surprised to find himself on Geonhak’s ragged little couch, as that is presumably the place in which he had fallen asleep, but he’s a little more surprised when he feels Geonhak’s substantial body heat around him like a thick duvet in the wintertime. There’s more of him laying on Geonhak than on his couch.

Geonhak’s been napping, too. His chest is pressed flush against Seoho’s back, and one of his hands are tangled in his hair, fingers relaxed and frozen in time. So he’d fallen asleep stroking his hair, his ears. At that, Seoho feels equal parts annoyed and endeared-- no wonder he’d drifted like this. 

“Why did you let me sleep?” Seoho mutters. 

Geonhak’s body shifts, tail moves from where it’d been wrapped around Seoho’s waist. Awake.

“You needed the rest,” he replies. His voice is even deeper when he’s tired, characteristic sandiness amplified by how softly he’s speaking. 

Seoho’s much too dreary to be embarrassed about the annoyed little whine-mew he lets out, the way his ears twitch once, twice against Geonhak’s arm. When that makes Geonhak jerk away, Seoho laughs at him. Ticklish. Cute. 

“My paper--”

“Not due till eight tomorrow, right?” Geonhak’s arms are around Seoho’s waist, now, snaking around him until he clasps his hands together at his sternum. Holding him back.

“Not a lot of time.”

“It’s plenty.”

Seoho snorts. “You’re lucky you don’t have to write papers.” 

“We have reports.” Geonhak’s sentence is interrupted by a loud yawn. “I have to figure out how an analog delay circuit works by eight tomorrow, too.” 

“You should go do that.” 

“Rather stay with you.”

Geonhak’s stroking him again, and every part of him wants to bat him away, wants to get up and trudge back over to his own place, but then his fingers reach a spot at the base of his ears and-- oh. 

For completely unrelated reasons, Seoho supposes that if Geonhak wants him to stay so bad, he can indulge him just a bit.

Notes:

if you notice me writing more catboys from here on out please know that it's dahlia's fault she afflicted me w catboy curse

Chapter 8: seodo on a spaceship

Summary:

i love how u can tell this was written in a span of like 10 minutes,,, anyway this one comes with bonus pretentious space angsting :D

“What are you thinking about?”

Geonhak’s voice is unmistakable, bouncing across the aluminum-coated walls of the ship and reverberating within the ground. 

“Not much.” Seoho’s lip quirks. He doesn’t take his eyes off of the cockpit window, the expanse of space beyond the glass. “Just looking for something, I guess.” 

But there’s nothing out there but endless stars, endless darkness, endless vacuum. Stretching on forever, always. Their destination has always been unclear to them, so much so that the very concept of an end to this journey barely even registers to Seoho’s head anymore. 

Geonhak chuckles once. “For what? Home?” He asks.

Seoho hums. “A bit cliché, but sure.”

It’s the worst time to turn and look at Geonhak, but Seoho does. He’s wearing this stupid expression on his face, the thin half-smile that doesn’t quite stretch across his face but still reaches his eyes, turning them into the shape of the moon they’d long left behind. 

“Home is where your heart is, right? I’m right here.”

Seoho glares at him with no real venom. “I’ll eject you.” 

“You won’t.”

It’s true. 

Geonhak’s hands are around his waist, now, and Seoho has no idea how they got there. 

“Where are the others?” Seoho asks quietly, trying his best to keep his breath steady.

“Youngjo and Keonhee are asleep. Woong’s having lunch. Dongju’s on watch, he might come by to check up on us.”

“Too bad.”

Geonhak runs his tongue around his lips. “Mm.” 

It’s not like it stops Geonhak from kissing Seoho against the window, against the dark and star-speckled outer space for the entire universe to witness. Seoho feels like he’s floating while he kisses back. Maybe he is. Maybe the gravity on their ship is broken. He isn’t quite sure. 

Notes:

tfw bels asks u for seodo playing among us and u write. whatever this is instead . love u bb

Chapter 9: seojo historical/royalty au

Summary:

youngjo is a prince and seoho is an assassin. local assassin falls in love w target like an absolute fool

It’s a mystery to Seoho, really. He’d come to the palace with a particular task, told by his brotherhood that it was for the sake of the kingdom’s future. But for all he can tell, the Crown Prince has shown no indication that he’d be devastating for the crown and the country should he inherit the throne. He’s not incompetent, spending his otherwise idle days patrolling nearby villages and compiling lists of proposals which which to improve conditions within the kingdom. He doesn’t show much as a sign of falling into common vices for those in nobility. He smiles at Seoho with that pretty, pretty smile of his whenever he passes by. He’s kind, benevolent.

But maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly the problem. While great for a prince, benevolence isn’t too much of a desirable trait in kings. For the crown, benevolence can be deadly, and a delicate flower like Youngjo could easily be squashed underneath a nearby kingdom’s boot. 

It doesn’t matter, shouldn’t matter to him-- Seoho’s job doesn’t require him to understand the politics behind his tasks, simply that he receive and perform them.

“Seoho?” Youngjo turns around slowly. His surprised expression fades into a smile. “I wasn’t expecting you today. Come in, come in.”

The knife in his sleeve feels all too heavy. 

Youngjo’s a delicate flower, and by all counts, this small task should’ve been all easy because of it. But it’s only natural to want to preserve the delicate. Whenever Youngjo smiles at him or laughs at his jokes, or as much as looks at him with those brilliant feline eyes of his, Seoho’s overwhelmed with the desire to gently cup him in his hands and take him home like the prettiest flower in a spring meadow. The thought of crushing Youngjo’s petals, of doing something he’d been trained to do for his entire life, makes him feel physically sick.

“How have you been today?” Youngjo asks him, voice flowing over him like a concoction of sugar and honey. 

“Good,” Seoho replies. He tries his best to twist his face into a smile that matches the prince’s, but it’s a futile effort. 

“Come. I’ve been sitting all day.” Youngjo grips his sleeve, the one opposite to the one carrying the blade, and tugs gently. “We’ll take a walk in the garden. Would you like that?”

And oh, Seoho is so, so doomed.

Notes:

a non-xiseodo ship,,, gasp

Chapter 10: hyungline model/designer/photographer au

Summary:

pre-poly. seoho's a photographer, youngjo's a fashion designer, and geonhak's a model.

The lighting is a strange blend of reds, blues, and incandescent yellows, casting shadows that only serve to highlight the muscles and veins on Geonhak’s torso. Geonhak poses on a stool with his back hunched slightly forward, heel on his knee in a way that lifts his kilt just a bit, head turned to the side. Dangerous.

A flash, a click. Geonhak takes this as his cue to shift his knees, to turn his head, to sit up straight. Slight adjustments to his posture. Another flash, another click-- Seoho makes sure to get his legs this time, sheer stockings that look like they’re barely managing to contain his calves.

“Right, Geonhakkie.” Seoho takes a knee to adjust his tripod, a very convenient way to avoid looking at Geonhak’s pectorals and abdominals for longer than necessary. “We’re done with this outfit. Just one more and we’ll wrap up for the day.” 

“Oh, good.” It’s like a switch flips in him. Suddenly, Geonhak’s expression relaxes, his eyes turn soft. The hem of his kilt swings when he stands up. “I’m running out of expressions.”

“All you do is smolder anyways,” Seoho mutters, not knowing or caring whether Geonhak hears, but the way he scoffs in response indicates that he did. 

Seoho understands Geonhak’s plight. He’s had his own brief run as a model that lasted until he’d found out that he’s much better behind the camera than in front of it, each photo a working system built from very deliberately adjusted components-- light, exposure, props, scenery, and of course, the models themselves. It’s a medium of art that he’s good at, much as Dongju likes to complain about how bad he is at taking his own selfies. He doesn’t, however, remember complaining to his photographers during shoots in his entire career nearly as much as Geonhak has in his time working with him.

“I want to go home,” Geonhak says, as if on cue, but Seoho feels his arms wrap around his waist before he hears him speak. 

“You’re a professional, puppy. Act like it.”

“How long do you think we’ll take with this last outfit?”

“An hour?” Seoho puts a finger on his chin. He’s surprising himself for the amount of time he’s staying like this with Geonhak, with his back pressed flush against his (still very bare) chest. “It’s Youngjo’s, so...”

At the mention of Youngjo’s name, Geonhak perks up, all signs of exhaustion and exasperation immediately dissipating from his face.

The bare expanse of Geonhak’s body might make Seoho’s mouth go dry, but the way he looks in Youngjo’s pieces does something to him, makes him feel like he’s been picked up and tossed onto a different plane of existence entirely. 

Seoho convinces himself that it’s because Youngjo is a genius, that of course Geonhak looks good in Youngjo’s clothes-- they’re Youngjo’s clothes, and they look good on anybody, designed to draw the eye and render people speechless even setting aside the fact that his model is already such a gorgeous person. At the same time, Youngjo designs clothes for Geonhak with a degree of care and attention that’s almost never afforded to any of the other models he usually works with, and he’s worked with some of the most famous and renowned models in the industry. He accounts for every curve, every bump in Geonhak’s musculature with the familiarity and intimacy of a lover. 

A lover. When Seoho first started working with Geonhak as a photographer and Youngjo as a model, they’d come as a matched set. He asked Youngjo if they were dating, once, and Youngjo had simply laughed and said they weren’t. The way he always looks at Geonhak would suggest otherwise.

“Tilt your head up, puppy. Yes, just like that.”

The colors of the light have shifted. They’re brighter now, and they’re directly behind Geonhak, shining on the tip of his hair and making him look like there’s a halo of light around his head. 

“Just a couple more, alright? You’re doing good.”

Geonhak’s model-façade breaks for just a moment. His eyes flash, a blooming smile tugs insistently at the corner of his lips. Later, Seoho will see this picture and find that it’s the best of the entire set, but he’ll be much too selfish to share it with the rest of the world. If things were up to him, he wouldn’t share Geonhak with the rest of the world at all. Well, save for one person.

Seoho’s feelings for Youngjo, he thinks, are much easier to quantify than whatever this is. And it’s much easier to admit to himself that he has feelings for him when they don’t see each other nearly as often as either of them see Geonhak, and when he’s almost certain that Youngjo’s feelings for him are already unconditionally reciprocated. 

But maybe it’s easier for him to exist and function around Geonhak, feelings well-hidden when he reverts to his natural state of teasing, bickering, and joking with him. Their personalities mesh together well enough that they can always find something to banter about, and their relative aversion towards any form of contact, physical or emotional, tend to be the same. Youngjo’s affection, by contrast, is always so intense and visceral that he constantly has to stop himself from falling into his lap and confessing whenever he sees him smile fondly or laugh at his jokes. 

“All done,” Seoho finally tells him with a hum of satisfaction. Geonhak breaks his pose immediately and practically collapses on the spot.

“Thought you were going to keep me here forever.”

Seoho fakes a scowl. “And put up for you for the rest of my life? No thanks.”

On the other hand, Geonhak and Youngjo’s relationship is a bit of a question mark to him. They dance around each other like tropical birds, and Youngjo’s always trying to get closer to Geonhak, orienting his body towards him in conversations, casually holding his hand or waist when they walk along the street. On the flipside, Youngjo’s presence always seems to be the cause of Geonhak’s flushed ears or nervous laughs. They’ve known each other for much longer than Seoho has known either of them, and maybe this should make him jealous, but he sees a place for himself there. 

Geonhak and Youngjo, Youngjo and Geonhak. A matched set. Inseparable-- yet Seoho thinks that he’s somehow found himself caught within the knots of their red string.

Notes:

this was suggested by the lovely @Haiweth on twt so thank u for this it's such an awesome concept :D hope u liked this !!

Chapter 11: seodo established relationship fluff 2

Summary:

Geonhak bothers Seoho after a workout.

Or, Seoho is a nerd, and Geonhak loves it.

Notes:

just some mentions of being geonhak being horny as well as veerrry implicit saucy stuff

Geonhak’s brain is swimming in his post-workout haze, drunk off of leftover adrenaline and god knows what else, and maybe that’s what makes him stroll into the living room and throw himself onto Seoho’s lap. At least, this is what he’ll tell him after his mind is clear and he wants a layer of deniability. Seoho’s reading-- or, now he’s trying to read with Geonhak’s entire body between him and the book.

Seoho squirms. He always does this, always feels the need to struggle whenever Geonhak initiates physical affection with him, never mind the fact that they’ve been together for almost a year now. Geonhak doesn’t usually have to deal with this, since his affection usually takes the form of fleeting touches that Seoho barely even gets the time to complain about, but it’s times like these where his sensitivity gets particularly bothersome. 

“Don’t you still need to work out, or something?”

“Just finished,” Geonhak replies, snuggling into the crook of his shoulder, hair brushing against his skin. It makes Seoho jerk away a bit. Ticklish. 

“Can you please,” Seoho says, voice teetering on the level of exhaustion that makes it sound like he’s the one who just did five sets of bicep curls and not Geonhak, “leave me alone.”

“I thought you love me,”

Seoho stutters and blushes before he collects himself enough to complain again.

“Not when you’re all sweaty and gross.”

“So your love is conditional,” Geonhak says, making his best puppy eyes. 

Seoho glares at him, shakes his head, and continues to read. He’s adjusted his arms so that they’re around Geonhak’s neck, and he can (presumably) see the pages by looking over the crook of his shoulder. It’s equally likely that he’s just pretending to read in order to ignore Geonhak to the best of his ability.

“Seoho,” Geonhak says again, in a singsong voice. “Seoho, there’s something I need to say.”

“What is it.” 

Geonhak pauses for a moment. Maybe he could say that it’s for dramatic effect, but he’s really just embarrassed despite the fact that he’s doing this to get on Seoho’s nerves. “I’m horny.”

Seoho looks over at him and slowly closes his book.

“And what am I supposed to do about that?” 

“There’s plenty you can do about that.”

Seoho snorts. “Tough luck.” He doesn’t go back to reading his book. Instead, he reaches over Geonhak’s shoulder to grab his phone from the coffee table. 

“Can you at least do that thing you always do?” Geonhak asks, pouting now.

“What thing?”

“You know, that thing.” Geonhak shifts his body around so he’s lying down horizontally on the couch, sprawled over Seoho’s body like an overgrown dog. “Why do I get horny after working out, babe?”

Unfortunately, however much Seoho likes to pretend he’s cool and aloof in the face of Geonhak demanding his attention, he is a big loser at heart. Instead of questioning him any further, he immediately launches into an explanation that sounds like it could’ve been a prepared speech, but knowing Seoho, he’d just had this information on hand. 

“There’s a lot of hormones involved in working out. You need your hormones to regulate your body temperature, your mood, your heart rate, that sort of stuff.” Seoho’s looking over at the opposite corner of the room. It’s like he’s in his own world. “When you’re working out, you get a boost in epinephrine and norepinephrine, obviously. They’re also responsible for the fight or flight response, and here--”

A pause. Seoho’s eyes meet Geonhak’s. Geonhak can see all the stars in the universe in them.

“Why are you looking at me like that.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Geonhak says fondly. “It’s cute.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait, babe--”

Seoho stands up suddenly, throwing Geonhak off of his lap.

Later, Seoho does make it up to Geonhak by giving him all the attention-- so to speak-- that he can possibly ask for. It's more of a workout than Geonhak's full routine. 

Notes:

follow my twitter @toemoon im nice i think