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on my mind (drabble)
on my mind
myname, gunwoo/insoo, g, 297w
Gunwoo can feel it buzzing around the back of his head. It bounces off the sides of his skull and tingles down his spine to tumble about in his stomach. A smile unknowingly graces his lips and his head feels dizzy, maybe a little excited, but mostly giddy.
He first notices Jinseok's eyes on him, then their teacher's. His pencil springs from his fingers and his mouth drops open simultaneously. Whatever comes out of his mouth sounds nothing like Japanese, but he's simply grateful it isn't the name that's been gnawing at his attention span for the past week.
Their sensei scolds him for being so uncharacteristically distracted, but doesn't make a big fuss about it. Seyong is still smirking, but Gunwoo levels him with a blank stare. Thank goodness he's never been one to blush; it'd be devastating on his pale skin.
A quiet chuckle catches him off guard, but he hides his slight jump by reaching for his lost pencil. Long, pretty fingers pick it up and hand it across the space between the desks.
Insoo's eyes tell Gunwoo that he knows. Gunwoo nods a sullen thank you and pretends to return his attention to the scribbled Japanese across the whiteboard. His fingers squeeze the pencil a little too hard.
After an hour that threatens to stretch into infinity, their sensei dismisses them. Gunwoo is pouting, though no one could tell by looking at him. He gives Insoo one last forlorn glance and sighs inwardly, his face remaining its usual cold mask.
Just as he passes, Insoo pats Gunwoo on the shoulder. The hand hangs back, reaching out to brush Gunwoo's fingers for a second. They're warm, like Gunwoo knew they'd be.
That morning, just before their lessons, Gunwoo had told Insoo he loved him.
myname, gunwoo/insoo, g, 297w
Gunwoo can feel it buzzing around the back of his head. It bounces off the sides of his skull and tingles down his spine to tumble about in his stomach. A smile unknowingly graces his lips and his head feels dizzy, maybe a little excited, but mostly giddy.
He first notices Jinseok's eyes on him, then their teacher's. His pencil springs from his fingers and his mouth drops open simultaneously. Whatever comes out of his mouth sounds nothing like Japanese, but he's simply grateful it isn't the name that's been gnawing at his attention span for the past week.
Their sensei scolds him for being so uncharacteristically distracted, but doesn't make a big fuss about it. Seyong is still smirking, but Gunwoo levels him with a blank stare. Thank goodness he's never been one to blush; it'd be devastating on his pale skin.
A quiet chuckle catches him off guard, but he hides his slight jump by reaching for his lost pencil. Long, pretty fingers pick it up and hand it across the space between the desks.
Insoo's eyes tell Gunwoo that he knows. Gunwoo nods a sullen thank you and pretends to return his attention to the scribbled Japanese across the whiteboard. His fingers squeeze the pencil a little too hard.
After an hour that threatens to stretch into infinity, their sensei dismisses them. Gunwoo is pouting, though no one could tell by looking at him. He gives Insoo one last forlorn glance and sighs inwardly, his face remaining its usual cold mask.
Just as he passes, Insoo pats Gunwoo on the shoulder. The hand hangs back, reaching out to brush Gunwoo's fingers for a second. They're warm, like Gunwoo knew they'd be.
That morning, just before their lessons, Gunwoo had told Insoo he loved him.