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The devil just has to be laughing at Namgyu, watching him crumble beneath the weight of his own resolve.
Namgyu has always had standards, the type of standards that were sharp and unwavering, the kind that are formed through experience and stress. No jocks, no fools, no creeps, no people who chew too loud and definitely no one who speak without thinking. He likes his music loud, his conversations meaningful and his books hardcover. The world is full of people he doesn’t like, people who walk too slow, people who chew with their mouth open, people who ask for too much after providing too little.
Namgyu knows what he wants, and he especially knows what he doesn’t.
So why? Why does this one get a pass?
Subong sits right next to him, elbows close enough to touch and knees close enough to brush, and everything Namgyu once thought he was into begins to rot.
Subong is his polar opposite, a loud mouth who is all easy smiles and sunburnt skin, he talks too much, too fast and too often and sprawls himself over chairs with an air that proves he’s never had to second guess himself. And the worst? Namgyu is inexplicably drawn to him, like a moth to flame. Like he’s a magnet strong enough to pick Namgyu up and hoist him over the walls he’s been methodically building and reinforcing over the years.
It’s the worst kind of betrayal, Namgyu’s body turning against him like this. The warmth that creeps up his neck whenever Subong stretches, slivers of skin being revealed. The warmth that spreads in his gut as Subong gets too close. The smile that tugs at his lips when he hears Subong’s unapologetic cackle, as if the guy has never felt sorrow.
It would be easier if Subong were cruel, mean, judgemental like the stereotypes would make you believe. But he isn’t, and it sucks.
Namgyu hates him. Or, at least, he should. But he can’t.
Because when Subong leans over, much closer than necessary, smelling like quintessential teenage athletic boy with a hint of citrus, asking for help with chemistry because “No one does it as well as you, bro”, Namgyu is hooked. He feels like he’s going to be sick.
The air in the room feels thick, thicker than it should.
It’s a weird feeling, the electricity between them, like lightning about to strike, air heavy with a storm’s promise. He’s so close Namgy can practically taste his cologne, and the thought of leaning in closer plagues his mind, burying his face into Subong’s shoulder, breathing him in, he locks the thought deep within him, he can’t feel like this, not about Subong.
The distance between them is miniscule, Nmagyu could count the freckles dotted across Subong’s face in gorgeous constellations, could trace the shadows cast by Subong’s eyelashes as the dance each time he blinks. This is ridiculous.
Subong laughs suddenly, a snort that is so genuine it could never be stifled, it’s rich, contagious, and Namgyu can feel the smile threatening to cross his face before he can process the laugh itself.
“You’re a lifesaver, you know that right?” Subong looks at him with an appreciative grin, “Without you, I’d for sure be failing this class.”
Namgyu’s voice is soft, but his perpetual teasing tone underlies, “Yeah, I got that impression.”
Subong laughs again, “I don’t even know why you bother helping me, you’re like, my saviour or something.”
Namgyu’s face flushes, and his breath catches for a brief moment, “I give you my notes, it’s not like I’m pulling you from burning buildings.”
“Same difference.” Subong retorts, his knee knocking Namgyu’s playfully for emphasis, “You’re like my guardian angel.”
Namgyu flushes. He’s screwed. “Shut up.”
Subong laughs again, like it’s a habit, “You’re adorable sometimes, for a guy.”
Namgyu must be pink at this point. He glares at Subong, but it lacks the intended malice, he’s too flustered for it, and Subong knows that all too well. Infact, he revels in it, grinning. He’s poking at Namgyu now, a prod to the shoulder, a prod to the forehead,a prod to the cheek. Namgyu swats his hand away. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“And you’re being cute,” Subong leans in again, somehow managing to get closer without smashing their faces together. “I like when you’re frustrated, you turn a real pretty shade of pink.”
Woah.
What?!
Is Subong flirting with him? Like, actually flirting? No, there’s no way………Right?
This is getting too much for Namgyu, he’s flustered, he’s shocked,and rather ashamedly, he’s pretty sure he’s sweating like crazy.
Subong likes it. He LIKES it. He thinks it’s cute. Namgyu is conflicted, he should like this guy like this, they’re so very opposite, but that look on Subong’s face, that smug, shit-eating grin that looks like he won the lottery ten times over, it makes Namgyu want to kill him, and kiss him, and fall into his bed like there is nothing else in life but the two of them.
He meets Subong’s eyes, they’re smug, but there’s something beneath that, something raw, something real, something Namgyu wouldn’t be able to see if it wasn’t for how close Subong had made them. His heart jumps into his throat. Subong begins to poke at him again.
“C’mon man, don’t be mad at me, I was just sayin” Namgyu swats at his hand again, but Subong catches his wrist. Namgyu’s stomach twists, he can feel so many things, Subong’s hands are warm, and much like Namgyu’s, a little sweaty, they’re covered in calluses, and Namgyu can only imagine what it would be like to have them roam his bare skin.
Subong’s thumb starts rubbing gentle rings into Namgyu’s wrist, “Y’know, your skin is really soft, it’s nice.”
Namgyu shudders, he’s particularly ticklish, “Stop that,” He’s not particularly sure if he means it, but Subong doesn’t need to know that, now does he?
“What? You ticklish or something?”
Fuck. Subong got him.
A impish grin spreads across Subong’s face, a mischievous glint in his eyes.”You are, aren’t you? His voice is teasing, not a mean teasing, an almost sensual teasing. It sent a shiver up Namgyu’s spine, it raises goosebumps on him, prickling up like spreading wildfire. Subong’s hand releases his wrist finally. “Good to know, good to know,” he’s smirking, a cheshire quality about it makes it both scary and intriguing.
Namgyu is fucked. Subong is going to be the death of him. And, if he were to be frank, he doesn’t mind that at all.