eleven: warmer than a blanket
strange bedfellows11
warmer than a blanket
“I could kill Yerim.”
Jaehyun chuckled, watching a little pout materialize along Seulgi’s lips. She had her head on his chest, tilted upwards to catch a glimpse of the photo that had involuntarily popped up on his phone. It was a shot of them locking lips at his balcony during the party – a poorly-taken picture at that, credits to a certain Kim Yerim.
He threaded his fingers through her long locks, pressing his mouth to the top of her head. “You could kill Haechan while you’re at it,” he joked. “He could’ve just shut up and let me kiss you for a bit more.”
“Christ, Jaehyun,” Seulgi laughed, the blush rising to her cheeks.
He her cheek, leaning downwards and enveloping her lips with his. She placed a hand on his bare chest and pushed herself upwards, angling her face to deepen the kiss. His tongue searched the corners of , their lips battling like they hadn’t already spent hours just laying in bed and kissing each other.
It was a good ten minutes before they reluctantly broke apart, breaths heavy and labored. She gazed into his soft, tender eyes, eyes that looked at her the way she had always wanted to be looked at. She raised a hand to caress his face, wondering if she had saved a country in her last life to be able to find someone who looked at her the way Jaehyun did, to find someone like Jaehyun.
He broke into a smile, soft and irresistible, and dove back to her lips for another kiss. Seulgi sunk into the pillow, letting him shift his weight on top of her. He then trailed a line of butterfly kisses from the crook of her neck to her chest, eliciting a sigh of contentment from her lips. For once, she felt warm and safe, like everything had somehow fallen into place.
Her eyes lolled upwards to the ceiling, sweeping over dimly illuminated, whitewashed walls, his neatly boxed collection of vinyl records, and the odd-looking frog ornament that sat on top of his shelf. It was then that Seulgi realized that she had never actually been to his room, and it was kind of like hers, albeit less cluttered.
“Really, Seul?” A moment later, his face was hovering above hers, and Seulgi realized she had said her thoughts aloud.
“A little bit,” she murmured, blushing. She distracted herself with the vinyl collection, wondering how many they had in common. “Did you buy those from record shops?”
“Some,” he nodded, “the rest were gifts.”
“Oh, I see.”
He gave her a sly wink. “Mostly from women.”
She swatted at him, causing him to fall back to his bed in peals of laughter. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughed, pulling a frowning Seulgi into his arms and holding her to his chest. “A lot of them were passed down from my parents. I used to live near a record shop in Connecticut when I was in elementary school, and every now and then my dad would bring me there to check out whatever was new in stock.”
Seulgi nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Jaehyun had always been so quiet and unsuspecting that she often forgot he spent some time abroad. “That sounds nice,” she replied. “Which one’s your favorite?”
He smiled. “I’ll put it on for you.”
He clambered out of his bed, picking up his pants from the pile of clothes they had left discarded on the floor. He pilfered through the box, finally extracting one large record and putting it on his vinyl player. A slow, dreamy tune reverberated through the room, enveloping them in an aura of warmth and comfort.
“Apocalypse, by Cigarettes after ,” Seulgi recognized. She threw Jaehyun a look as he slipped back into the bed. “Cheeky bastard.”
“So you do have good taste,” he chuckled, running his fingers over the contours of her shoulder.
Seulgi felt tingles on her skin. “In what – music or men?”
“Hmm…” he grinned, pretending to think. “I’d say both.”
They exchanged laughs, before collapsing in each other’s arms. She was studying his features and easing into the soft music, when a thought came to mind.
“Oh,” she remembered. “I bought you a present.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Really.”
She reached for her handbag, that was strewn haphazardly on his table, pulling out a badly wrapped box, somewhat squished after withstanding the turmoil of being in her tiny bag. She watched his eyes glimmer as she it to him.
“What is it?” he said, unwrapping the gift.
“A noise-cancelling microphone,” she replied. “I figured you probably spent a lot of time recording covers at home. I’ve also seen how noisy the other boys can be.”
Jaehyun looked at her, touched. He pinched her cheek affectionately. “So, you were thinking about me.”
“Of– Of course,” Seulgi stammered. She quickly averted her eyes before his gaze could make her turn even redder than she already was. “Even if we did break up, it’s still your birthday.”
“Well, I thought you wouldn’t care about that. You didn’t reply to my messages. You even sent back the gift I mailed to you for yo
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