PUNCHING IN A DREAM WITH YOUNG BLOOD AS WE COME RUNNING.AWAY.

sehun!centric; kris/sehun; pg; word count:~ 1700; canon

music: Youngblood Hawke- As we come running; The and famous-young blood&punching in a dream. 

He needs an escape.

Now, AT this passing by moment.

No one’s gonna stop him. Managers, Junmyeon, Jongin, Luhan…  it doesn’t matter they’ll yell at him at him later how irresponsible he is, how something bad would happen after the war sasaengs had started. Stupid girls aren’t going to refrain him from doing what he wants to. Needs to.

Another sleepless night peeks through the window, the big eye of the moon observes how he wriggles on bed sheets,  sigh running his lips.  He counts to ten, if the nudging feeling won’t disappear, he’s really gonna do it.

Seven, eight, nine.

Ten.

He  gets up a little bit abruptly, nonetheless still  tries not to make any sound that would wake up his roommates. If the adrenaline didn’t revive his veins, Sehun would probably be envious how they all can sleep so calmly while he not really. He puts the hoodie on and throws a beanie on the nest formed of his hair.  Nike sweatpants can  stay, he won’t change them into skinny jeans. The plan would burn down into an ash because someone would wake up for sure if he decided to do so. It’s a miracle that no one heard his rummaging till now- he’s not really a person who can move soundlessly.

Sehun walks into the closet and grabs a dark, a bit too worn out bag stuffed with the most necessary items and some additional cash. He had planned it for a while, the runaway thing, though couldn’t find a courage to actually make it happen.  The level of his annoyance now reached its limit, it seems. So he tiptoes in hall,  carefully with squinted eyes localizes the things scattered the floor to avoid to  stumbling on them.

The teenager blindly recognizes his  white airmax in the ocean of shoes, opens the doors… and releases a breath he has been holding on.            

He’s almost free.  

*

Sehun bought a first bus ticket to Busan. He had a luck the vehicle he sits in, is completely empty, people  too tired to actually catch a glimpse of surroundings and maybe recognize him. Almost everyone’s the representative of people travelling in business issues, not for sightseeing or vacation. After all the holiday season has ended up almost two months ago. Now it’s October.

Oh how he hates October.

There isn’t any particular reason why he does. Maybe just because. Or maybe it’s the last one of a pretty nice weather and  when it ends, the long, cold nights come, November clutching  their side?

He doesn’t sleep, ibeats plugged into his ears blasts the music of someone’s ipod he snatched from the kitchen table in the evening, during the dinner.  His music player faced a really terrifying death, falling down from the thirtieth floor of the hotel they stayed in Berlin.

The owner has a good taste in music—there is almost everything in there, from 2PAC to Katy Perry and Justin Bieber.  Alternative rock, classical music, Arctic Monkeys, Coldplay, kpop. Hundreds of artists he doesn’t really recognize, but still reach his personal taste. There isn’t any melody Sehun doesn’t like. 

Head’s leaning on the glass of the window. His eyes are unfocused on anything in particular, the city lights turn into endless stripes in his head on the dark background, slowly getting brighter and brighter on the skyline.   The streets passing by are almost abandoned, the rush has faded away for now to return in later, morning hours.

It’s nice. This moment reminds him of the ones from kdramas, where the main heroine sits by the window, admiring the view behind the glass as the calm music flows in the background.

Four hours passes by with a blink of an eye and now he jumps out of the bus, stretching his  sore muscles out,  mouth opened agape in a yawn. His eyes  flick around the station, when they focus on the unbelievably tall person leaning on the pillar, his one leg propped. The man’s  looking straightly at him, with crossed arms. He kind of reminds him of  Kris, the way the  brows  raised in amusement as eyes mirror something Sehun does not recognize.

Wait. But…

 It is Kris.

“What the were you thinking about?! Don’t you have a brain?!”

Sehun expected this kind of reaction, not a silence  which is worse than the explode of an anger Junmyeon would probably show. But Kris isn’t Junmyeon, their personalities are the completely different ones,  the younger leader more bad tempered than Yifan, who looks like the easy one to piss off. In a daily life Kris is the more gentle leader, who tries to solve the problem with calm talk, not yelling .

“How—“

“Express train.”

“But…”

“I was in the living room, but you of course were too absorbed to notice my so small silhouette on the couch.”

Sehun opens his mouth, to shut it without saying a word.  Kris sips his espresso from a vending machine, the first shy rays of the sunrise lingering on his snowy skin. He is exhausted, the circles under his eyes scream  freely as the skin isn’t covered with tones of bb cream Kris usually puts on.

 It’s kind of a nice feeling to see him so…casual. Imperfect with ruffled blonde bangs sticking out of the snapback.  In a simple outfit of  white v-neck, grey blouse, jeans rolled up to his ankles and slips-on.   He looks younger, and even if  he looks tired, he’s still handsome and full of vigor. The aura of perfection never left his frame, and in Sehun’s eyes he’s a god.   

Kris has always been on the first place at the category of looks in his private ranking, but the maknae has never said it out loud.

“So, what are we going to do?”

“We’re not coming back now?” Now Sehun’s confused. He thought Kris chased after him to immediately take him back to Seoul, to prevent the big mess which surely will explode if they find out he ran away.

“I’m sure it was not your plan. You actually had a purpose to come here, right?” Kris crumples up the cup in his hand and walks up to the trash bin. Sehun observes him, nibbling lower lip. Honestly, he didn’t think about the destinations nor what he would do. He just wanted to be far away, from the rush and sleepless nights. To release himself out of the cage of obligations.

“Well…yes.”

“So..Let’s do what you wanted to and come back, to get the biggest beating of our lives.” Kris shows of his pearls in a grin and Sehun’s heart flutters with warmth, suddenly spreading from the tip of his toes.

*

He in his breath, as his shoes meet the damp sand. The view before him is hard to describe. He cannot find a proper word to name it, this small paradise.  

 Gwangadaegyo Bridge is still lit with thousands of little lamps, folded gently in breaths of the fog.  The sky above them is a mixture of  pinks, oranges, grays and blues which still haven’t left  Korea  properly for another ten hours. A calm buzzing of the waves hitting the shore reach his ears with seagulls’ screeching, flying somewhere not so far away.

The beach is deserted completely as if there wasn’t anyone in this world except Kris and him.

He feels it; this weird sensation lingering in his guts. For few minutes he’s not Oh Sehun— the sweet maknae of EXO, the group killing noonas with their flawless image and skills. He’s Oh Sehun—a twenty-year-old boy who still cries at Bambi movie. Who is oversensitive, loves fooling around and snuggling with the closest to his heart.

He’s just an average, simple human being.

He turns his head to Kris, who seems to be as astonished as he is. Sparks of happiness are dancing in his cocoa orbs, and Sehun is fully sure, he feels the same way. This is not Kris— an EXO leader. That’s just Wu Yifan. A good boy who collects stuffed animals as a hobby. A man that adores books and if he wanted to, would spend all day reading novels of Haruki Murakami.

Kris toes off his shoes and grabs Sehun’s hand, who takes off his Nikes in a rush tossing them somewhere. He almost stumbles on his own feet, choking on his laugh as he’s pulled into the cold, blue ocean.

They’re soaked, trembling out of cold,  clutching McDonald’s to go paper bags. Mouths are full of cheeseburgers and fries, as they wander around at  seven in the morning, eating their junk breakfast.

Grains of sand stick to his clothes, but he gives a damn, too absorbed with laughing his heart out at the lame jokes Kris is gifting him with. If Sehun had a choice, he would like to live this way forever. But he’s aware he can’t, this moment will last for a few hours until they go back to their current world filled with fans’ love, new assignments, hard work.

As they’re sitting in the bus ready to leave, the state of euphoria falters away. The same feeling of depression creeps in, at the thought what’s waiting for him back in Seoul.  His eyes fixed on two little kids playing around are full of envy and  unknown longing.

It’s then when Kris’ long arm folds him, pulling  closer, without saying a word.  Sehun lets himself be a selfish brat and leans his head on Kris’ shoulder, breathing in his  perfume scent mixed with ocean’s breeze.  Kris’ long fingers brush gently his dampened hair and Sehun closes his eyelids,  finding blonde’s hand and wrapping it in his.

The bus driver starts the engine.

Sehun’s not sure if he is ready to go back, is not sure either if he won’t  run away once again, but at this minute he lets it slip through his fingertips and cherish this fading away moment.

After all, all good things  do come to an end.

Woah. Two months. Sorry guys,there're no excuses to my lack of muse.  Plus I've lost four drabbles I started, but couldn't finish because my pc rebelled.  Hope you like it! <3