#han stray kids imagines

— 011 | SKY CRIES, LOVERS KISS

pairing: han jisung x gn! reader
wc:900
warnings:rain, thunder
a/n:ooo another word spill? this is not even a proper piece, really just scenes of a rainy day all wrapped up in a cloak lol

a street studded with balls of fire // the quiet thrum of blissful clamour // the clattering awning over lovers // kisses that taste of sparkling desire

the rain drums like bullets on the metal roof, stampeding with a muffled thud against the tarpaulin cover, the sound so loud it drowns all others. the faint chatter of the people awaiting their food rises inside the semi covered noodle shop, the scraping of spatula against wok, the fumes of heat that waft in the earthy air, clinking of glasses with loud cheers of a day well spent; all mixed in a strange kaleidoscope of a wet day. 

trees bow down, shuffling and swaying, a dance without moves, a melody without bars. unfiltered, unbalanced, unrestrained; the world cares not how they move in dissonance, simply stringing the harps gleefully.  

the bowl of udon is warm to the touch, steams of spicy swirls wafting in the air. specks of soup splatter on the old wooden table when you dig in, slurping a huge bite of the noodles. the chilli stains your lips, burning where the skin was chapped and you relive it with a sip of your lime soda.

jisung’s glasses cloud up with the steam, blinding him in a temporary fog, your small chuckle resounding at the sight before he feels the tug and your fingers barely grazing his cheek, the foggy curtain lifted and a small smile of thanks makes it to his burning lips. the chills across his back has got nothing to do with the chilly rain.

thighs touching across the cramped table, a game of footsies ends in an entangled mess, the warmth of skin through fabric like a gentle comfort. bare words are exchanged, forgotten, unessential in the quest to pacify rumbling stomachs. the sniffs and burning tongues are the only shared sentiment.

the sky turns a shade darker than ash, a dirty puddle of the lightest brown and darkest grey. 

red and amber and orange lamps line the street like a string of fire, bottled up in glass tubes and strung up high like stars blooming in lieu of the darkness. your faces glow warm and ochre, a kiss from the stars that share their glimmer, now matte and smooth across your skins. the singular earring that dangles from jisung’s ear, glitters when the light catches it in a game of hide and seek.

in silence filled by the loud pattering of the sky’s tears, your breaths mingle with the warmth of a hot bowl of udon, slurping and licking and chewing and gulping till the warmth balls up inside your stomach. your chapped lips sting where the spices bite, relieving it with a gulp of lime sodas, the belated sweetness of the drink making you sigh in satisfaction.

eyes fluttering on a full stomach, you’re now impelled to lean forward and rest your head on an outstretched hand, limbs relaxing under the lullaby of rain and chatter. a warm hand slips in your palm, clasping yours in a snug glove. palm in palm, raised to berry lips, a small kiss against your skin, burning where the hot breath lingers, swirling like a lagoon in the crevices of your knuckles.

jisung speaks louder under the comfort of thunder.

a joyful sprint across the streets, under jackets that keep you barely sheathed, when the lovers run in a haphazard trail, entwined hands that grasp each other under the crying sky. two figures running under balls of fire, so much love, it spills the street till it’s one with the fallen tears.

a scurried shelter under a shop, isolated from the din of people, jumping puddles and showered under drenching leaves, the lovers giggle and shout in delight, the small rejoicing at the mundane – a puddle conquered. if one squints, they’ll see two figures, under the roof of a closed shop, hugging so tight they look like one.

a tug on the sleeve, a tug on jisung’s heart; your eyes find his in the dark, wide and searching for what he doesn’t know; all he sees are amber stars. splatters of rain, like diamond studs on your faces, brushed away with the stroke of thumbs. the hands that find respite in each other’s hair, a pull of bodies freezing under the rain.

the mirrors of water, black and ash against the concrete, frosted with the splatter of rain, jisung’s heart leaps like the drops of water bouncing off the ground, your singular sight so precious to his eyes. like a flickering flame of fire you smile, with a reason not you laughed in melodious dissonance and with a tug of his sleeve you make him tremble.

the first kiss is soft, lips pressed and small smiles, but the sky cries harder and the lovers’ knees buckle and the kisses grow wilder. your mouths are warm yet shivering against each other’s, the prodding cautiousness pulling you closer. the shop stands still with darkness inside, the doors shut and a closed sign on the front. but it watches, secretive, comforting over the two lovers, keeping it safe under the folds of its quiet adoration.

lips covered in a subtle balm of chilli, the sweetness of lime sits on the puckered flesh, the gasps and moans and breaths all quietened, swallowed by the rain that thunders. hands across waist, hands across cheeks, nimble fingers threading through hair, lips that kiss and kiss and kiss, till breaths are shared and the love bleeds.

the sky above cries, the lovers kiss.