loveticonz
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He tightens his grip on Leo's shoulders, exhales once, twice, three times. He begins to close the distance.
He does it at a steady pace; not too slow, not too fast, just enough for Leo to calculate the distance between them, whatever it takes to make the pepero as small as possible. If they have to kiss to achieve it, Anxin doesn't really care. He’s competitive as hell. And that’s his Leo hyung, after all. He trusts him.
So when their breathing begins to intertwine, and Anxin's lips start to tingle, waiting for Leo's, he doesn't move away. He actually speeds up a little because he feels a strange tension beneath his hands. Leo’s muscles. Oh.
«Please, don’t pull away. Please, don’t pull away. Please, don’t pull away. We can win this.»
Their lips meet. And Leo does, in fact, pull away.
or: Anxin and Leo after the pepero game.
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Anxin's laughter, however, feels like a drill, like an out-of-tune violin in the middle of an acappella choir.
“It's okay,” Sangwon whispers slowly, raising his hands to frame Leo's face. Leo realizes that he has slowed his movements, losing his rhythm for a second. “They can't hear us.”
Leo knows, and perhaps that's what bothers him the most. Now that he's lost his concentration, he can hear it clearly: Xinlong's deep voice, the perfect mandarin that still sounds alien to him, that laugh.
He hates that laugh.