through the woods, on the outskirts
through the woods, on the outskirts
There's a little cottage on the outskirts of town that tells a story. Vines crawl and twist up the side of the house, slithering through the lattice that rests against the west side, the side that faces the beaten path leading to the woods. The east side faces the sun and basks in it daily, warming up the rest of the house in the cooler months and making it just a bit uncomfortable in the summer.
But the residents there have no complaints. No one's quite sure who they are, but it's rumored that there are only two, living a quaint and quiet life together where no one else bothers them.
This is their story.
"Xiao Lu, do we have any more firewood?" Sehun calls from the living room, crouching in front of the fireplace and peering around for any sign of the chopped wood.
Lu Han appears beside him, two mugs of hot chocolate in each hand. "I told you not to call me that," he sighs as he hands Sehun his mug "and no, we don't have any more."
Sehun sighs also, but smiles gratefully at Lu Han for the drink. "I guess I'll go out and get some then," he mutters, his lips already wrapped around the rim of the cup.
The elder rests his chin on Sehun's shoulder from behind, absentmindedly rubbing small circles into his hip with his free hand.
Sehun shivers, and it's not because the fire hasn't been started yet. "So why can't I call you Xiao Lu? I saw a deer in the forest yesterday, and it reminded me of you," Sehun asks smugly, breaking their peaceful silence. "I think it's cute."
Lu Han tries to be annoyed, but his effort doesn't last long when he sees those familiar pair of lips quirk up into a small smirk. "You're lucky you're cute,"
Sehun's smirk grows into a toothy smile, and Lu Han can't resist the urge to kiss it.
•
Later that night, just after Sehun comes in from gathering firewood, the two sit around the fire and bundle up in blankets, the temperature outside dropping drastically after the sun falls and the moon takes its place.
Lu Han squirms closer to Sehun as they recline against the couch, opting to sit on the floor so they can be closer to the fire. He watches the younger, the way the fire reflects in his eyes, and he can't help but think that it's both figurative and literal.
"What are you looking at?" Sehun asks, finally turning to stare at Lu Han instead of the hypnotizing flames of the fire. "Am I that handsome?"
Lu Han smacks Sehun lightly on the arm, but smiles with him anyway and grumbles out a small 'yes.' He feels the need to add that his ego is also comparable in size.
He gets a kiss for that, and is pretty satisfied with his punishment. Maybe he should insult Sehun more often.
"The fire's going out," Lu Han whispers, feeling that his voice is much louder than the silence of the fire crackling and the owls conversing outside.
Sehun hums, his eyes still closed as he presses his nose closer to Lu Han's cheek, lips brushing and breaths mingling. Lu Han still tastes like the hot chocolate they had earlier, and Sehun wants to kiss him until the only thing he can taste is simply, purely Lu Han.
So he does; pressing, biting, , until what is left over is a breathless Lu Han and red, swollen lips. He finds comfort in the way that his arms fit perfectly around the elder's waist, fitting like a puzzle piece, and how it feels as if Lu Han's fingers were made to twirl Sehun's sandy brown hair between them until it feels odd to not have the sensation there.
"We didn't do anything today," Lu Han says, his eyes searching Sehun's, not really sure what he's looking for. Anything, really.
Sehun smiles. "And you talk too much," He presses light butterfly kisses to Lu Han's forehead, his eyes, his nose, his jaw, every inch of skin he can find, and only stops when Lu Han's small hands are cradling his face and leading his lips back up to Lu Han's own.
They don't do anything the next day either, or the next, or the next...
The story of the residents in that cottage by the wood still lives on, breezing through the trees in autumn and falling on the ground in white flakes during the winter. Just like their love, it comes and leaves softly, hindering no one, but benefiting anyone all the same.
Their story doesn't have a beginning, and the only thing anyone knows for sure is that there was a middle, is a middle, without an end. Nature writes their story, and for as long as the world lives, so will they.
~
this.... really doesn't makes a lot of sense
but then again when does my fluff
SO THIS IS FOR YOOJIN BECAUSE I'M CHEERING HER UP
and i promised her hunhan fluff
are you happy now? lol this is word vomit and is really cheesy and BLEH
how can you people read this
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