“What is hurricane in english?” -Kim Him Chan.

Beads of sweat decorated Yongguk’s flushed face. With a last push, he finished his last bench press before carefully placing the heavy equipment back in place. The clock above his head on the brick wall behind him ticked a few seconds off midnight. “Yongguk?” Himchan’s raspy voice rang out, sound waves interweaving between the metallic equipment which proved to be a right pain to make his way over. Himchan clambered over messily arranged gym equipment, mumbling curses at the disarranged metal. “Mm?” Yongguk sat up, grabbing a towel and bottle simultaneously, dabbing at his face while undoing the top of the water bottle with his teeth.

Himchan straightened his crisp dress shirt and the white sheets of white paper clutched in his hands. Yongguk made a mental note to tell him to wear it more often. The shirt, that is. It reminded him of the seasalt that is left after a swim at the beach, tiny crusts of white dust that remains behind your ears and resting on strands of black hair. An incoherent mumble escaped his lips as the water flowed through his bottle into his parched mouth. The water wasn’t cold anymore, the water changing from the coolness of the fridge to the so-so room temperature. Feeling the rush of liquid making its way down his throat, Yongguk put down the bottle, promptly getting startled by sheets of loose paper shoved in his face, covering a beaming Himchan’s face.

Wiping the split water off his already damp, sweaty shirt, he lifted up an eyebrow. “What is it?” Himchan proudly straightened out the sheets, a slow beam slowly creeping across his face. “I decided to write a diary entry in English! I’m learning.” He paused. “So you don’t have to negotiate things with the English gun tradesmen yourself. It’s dangerous alone.” He hesitated, the last sentence having rolled off his tongue without warning.

The corners of Yongguk’s mouth lifted up, the muscles tensing around his mouth, making a smile. “Good to see you’re spending time doing something other than sticking your head underneath your collection of cars.”

The slightly younger one pouted, the bottom of his cherry-like lips sticking out. “Hey! My cars are like, my babies. You don’t find Lamborghini Reventons or my beauty, Aston Martin One-77 everywhere you know.”

A deep voiced chuckle leaked out of Yongguk’s lips. It was one of the ones that give the little shivers around your body, lifting your skin in tiny goosebumps. A deep kind of rumbling, vibrating chuckle that made Himchan’s breath catch. “I know.”

Himchan averted his eyes from the sweating figure infront of him, directing them to his paper, swallowing a sudden onslaught of saliva that rushed into his mouth, mentally wishing Yongguk didn’t see the bobbing off his Adam’s apple. A circled part of his careful printed English caught his eye. A scrawling of Korean was next to it. That was it. The reason of the midnight visit.

A bit too quickly, Himchan blurted out, “What’s hurricane in English?” He winced internally at his sudden unnatural outburst. It wasn’t something that Himchan did often. Being unnatural that was. And yet, like the tide kissing the grains of sand on a beach, he was swept away all the time in wrong timing when he was with the charismatic male. A particularly hot one too.

“Is that a real question or just a question you fabricated to break that sudden awkward moment that just passed?” Yongguk grinned, a slight twinge of amusement ringing at the back of his tone of voice. With a tint of pink Himchan replied with an embarrassed, “IT IS!”

Yongguk burst into laughter, showing his gums. That trademark smile, shining in all it’s glory right infront of Himchan, who couldn’t help but also grin, even though Yongguk was laughing at him. Even if the joke at his expense, if it was a reason for Yongguk to smile, he was happy. Strangely enough, this was the sandpapery, untreated, raw truth.

Yongguk took hold of his towel and bottle, getting up, he playfully punched Himchan’s upper arm lightly. “You pathetic guy.” Still having the smile imprinted on his face, he made his way effortlessly around the equipment, in contrast to Himchan’s painful efforts. Stopping a few metres from the door way, leaning on the exercise bike, he turned his head slightly. “Oh and Channie, hurricane is an English word.” He turned around smirking, catching Himchan’s confused face. “It is…?”

“That’s right.” He grinned at Himchan’s now gobsmacked face and turned around, taking a lazy step towards the door.

Heavy, urgent footsteps ran towards the gym room. Loud slaps of expensive dress shoes running on hard, equally expensive tiles down the hallway echoed briefly towards Yongguk and Himchan. Both males in the room turned their attention to the intruder. Wide, panicked eyes met their gazes. Ragged, staggered, uneven breathing hit on their eardrums.

“...Y-Young..jae...”

"..Gone.."

-

OTL if the ends a bit weird IM SO SORRY. I wrote this at 2 in the morning while listening to Hoedown Throwdown. I don’t know why I do this to myself.

YEAH LETS DO THE HOEDOWN HOEDOWN.

...

Anyway, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SUBSCRIBING AND COMMENTING THEY LITERALLY JUST MAKE ME FEEL ALL WARM AND FUZZY AND I WANT TO SQUISH YOU ALL BECAUSE YOU ARE ALL SO LOVEABLE AND SPECIAL THANKS TO ADEXIOS FOR UPVOTING OKAY I NEVER THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD COME, /sniffles.

OMG i wanted to be the cool writer thats all mysterious and cool and stuff with emotionless author notes and that, okay scratch that, crazy author side dominates, again. sighs.