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midnightghostwriter · 7 years

Text

netflix and no chill

↬ summary: when lost in translation goes just a little too far to the wayside.

↬ genre: fluff

↬ pairing: chase/chacha malone x reader

↬ word count: 2.9k

a/n: another repost of an older work i did. istg i write stuff besides fluff, it's just all in the works rn. xP

It was well past time for the sun to be shining down on the harried faces of pedestrians shoving past each other on their way to any number of destinations. But the sun seemed much too tired to show her face, choosing instead to hide behind the silver-grey skirts of the clouds dotting the sky. The dim color had absolutely no bearing on the small spot of warmth blooming in you as you wove through the crowds to the AOMG office. It could begin pouring rain and you would probably still be smiling brightly to yourself.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had set foot in the place, though it certainly felt like longer than just a few weeks. Of course you understood that life for your musically-talented friends was beyond busy, and the last thing you expected was endless hours to spend with them. Their careers came before almost anything else, and standing in the way of something each and every one of them had been so long reaching for - you would never dream of it. Even so, you could only go so long without seeing them before something had to be done.

So here you were, pushing past the glass doors and waving to a few of the people scattered about the lobby. Rather than wait for the elevator, you slipped into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time to the studio floor. The faint sounds of music drifted into the hall from one of the rooms, and you followed it to a door sitting slightly ajar.

Inside you discovered Jay and Loco sprawled on the couch, lazily scanning their phones, though they had the presence of mind to look up as you snuck in. Gray stood at the mic, firing out lines too fast for you too follow, especially with the window between you and the booth blocking most of them. Most importantly, though, was Chacha seated before the impressive array of mixing equipment. Ignoring the knowing looks on the other boys’ faces and the way your heart thumped in your chest, you plopped down into the vacant seat next to him.

You had yet to say it out loud to anyone but Hoody, but you had developed something of a crush on him. What had begun as mildly enthusiastic fangirling over his talent, had unexpectedly grown into more, and now you were hopelessly infatuated. The two of you had bonded further over your shared origins outside Korea, though you had the advantage of a mother from Gwangju. Even so, the two of you had hit it off much to your delight, and it had become a common sight to see you either at his side or running off to join him.

Which was probably why even though the pair of you didn't say anything as you watched Seonghwa finish his verse, he still handed you a can of coffee that had been perched happily beside his own. You accepted gratefully, shooting him a beaming smile before popping the tab and silently chugging most of its contents. It wasn't nearly as involved as theirs, but your own work had been wearing you down as well, and you were happy for the pick-me-up.

As soon as the door opened and the booth’s former occupant took up residence with Jay and Hyukwoo on the couch, Chase turned to you, smiling so genuinely your stomach flopped.

“Hey, long time no see!”

“Jeez, you say it like we haven't spoken in years or something!” You laughed. He shrugged.

“Feels like it. You haven't been by the studio in ages.” It was your turn to let your shoulders rise and fall as you tried to play it cool.

“I know you've all been busy. I didn't want to get in the way.”

“That's a lame ass excuse,” Jay declared. “Y’know you're welcome here anytime.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm busy too.”

“Busy avoiding how deep in denial you are,” Gray chimed in. It took your brain a second to process the sudden switch he'd made to Korean, but when you had you sent him your darkest glare.

“Yah!” The other guys chuckled, though Chase just looked confused. For once you were grateful for his lack of knowledge with the language, as it saved you the immense embarrassment of explaining yourself. The others relentlessly teasing you was more than par for the course, but it didn't make you want to crawl down a hole any less. What came out of Jay’s mouth next didn't help in the least.

“Well I think that's everything for now. We’re gonna go get lunch.” Before you could open your mouth, the three of them fled the room, leaving you and Chacha alone.

“They could have at least invited us too,” you muttered. He watched the way you pouted and chuckled.

“Who needs them, let's go get lunch ourselves.” You looked at him, the implication of his proposition making your stomach do somersaults.

“Don't you wanna go catch up to them or something?” He scoffed and stood, holding a hand out to help you out of your chair. You accepted, letting him tug you to your feet.

“Nah, I see enough of them here during the day. Let's go.” As he began leading the way out of the office, his phone buzzed. Checking the screen, he rolled his eyes at Jay’s message.

You owe me.

A second later, it was followed up with,

Don't fuck it up.

Despite your initial hesitation to spend any extended time with Chase, lest you become a mess of butterflies and nerves, you made it through lunch without any problems. In fact, it was the most fun you'd had in a long while, and when you caught him grimacing at his phone your heart dropped.

“Sorry but I should probably get back.” Knew it. But you smiled in understanding and started gathering the remains of your meal.

“Those tracks won't mix themselves!” You declared cheerfully. When you looked up from tossing your collective trash, a look of hesitance had overtaken him. “What?”

“Do you wanna come over later?

“What?” You repeated, this time with an added edge of disbelief. His gaze slid away from yours and you realized you'd never seen him, the Chacha Malone, so obviously nervous.

“Well it's been awhile since we hung out, so I was thinking when I'm done at the studio you could come by... There's some new stuff out, so we could watch that and just, y’know, chill.” If your desire to not look like a ridiculous beached fish hadn’t won out, you were fairly certain you would’ve been gaping at him. Instead you swallowed and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Chase did you…. Did you just ask me to Netflix and chill?” Realization dawned in his eyes, before they melted back to his familiar dark brown, lighted with amusement.

“I guess I did,” he laughed. “Are you saying no?” This time it was you who hesitated, weighing the offer in your mind. After all, it didn’t have to mean what you thought it did, right? And even if it did, were you really going to turn that down?

“I’ll see you tonight,” you managed eventually, and the two of you went your separate ways out the door.

By the time you showed up at his apartment door, with what felt like an eternity left before the time he’d texted you earlier, you were a mess. A nervous, excited, and maybe even a little queasy, mess. You’d made an effort to wear more than just your typical couch surfing gear of sweats and a comfy tee, and even refreshed your makeup rather than removing it like you usually would have. None of it made you feel any better about anything.

The universe took pity, though, only giving you a few minutes to worry yourself senseless before the door swung open after you’d finally raised the courage to knock. You could see the weariness of the week catching up to him; not only in the faintly visible bags under his eyes, but also the fact that he was in a well-worn hoodie and jeans that made you feel supremely overdressed.

“Hey.” He moved aside, letting you slip past into the hall. “Did you come from somewhere?”

“Huh?” You looked up from taking off your shoes, meeting his eyes with your confused ones.

“You seem more dressed up than you were earlier.” Shit. Forcing a quick smile onto your face and willing your cheeks to stop heating up, you nodded.

“Oh y-yeah, I met one of my friends at the mall earlier.” Before he could ask any more questions, you moved past him into the lounge, making yourself comfortable on the couch and he followed suit a moment later.

Picking something to watch wasn’t difficult as you both shared similar tastes in shows and movies. It was getting through the episodes that was proving to be difficult. You were so high strung you had forgotten what was happening at this point, and you couldn’t be bothered to focus enough to find out. What you were focused on, rather than whatever pickle the main character found themselves in, was how close you two were seated, how you could just feel his body heat seeping into your skin despite his sweatshirt, how if you moved a smidge to the left, you’d be basically leaning on him. None of these thing seemed to bother Chase, and that just made you all the more frustrated with yourself. You were beginning to think you had read way too far into his offer earlier that day, and he had meant exactly what he said - Netflix and chill the fuck out.

Then, it happened. What many considered to be the universal signal that things were stepping up a notch. When you had turned your head back to the television in an effort to actually pay attention, he shifted beside you, and suddenly you realized his shoulder you’d been carefully seated away from had moved. Oh.

Your companion showed absolutely no sign that he picked up on how your heart began to race or how you had frozen to the spot. Uncertainty ran like ice through your veins, a thousand questions spinning through your mind. Namely, however, was what the fuck were you supposed to do now?

After several elongated second of deliberation, you settled for playing it cool, trying to act as if nothing had happened. Yup, you had noticed absolutely nothing except how very interesting the show before you was. And so you continued to tell yourself, a mantra that lasted enough episodes that you actually felt yourself loosening up, your earlier tension dissipating.

But fate had other plans apparently, and all your hard work was undone a second later.

You had finally settled into a comfortable position, letting yourself lean into him just enough to be supported in your lounging; everything was right with the universe. But just as another episode ended, you felt eyes on you and turned to find Chase staring at you.

“Wh-what?” You asked, suddenly and inexplicably nervous. The racing thump of your heart in your chest went unnoticed as he leaned a tiny bit closer, still silent. As if on some kind of pre-programmed instinct, your eyes slipped shut and you held your breath. Warmth brushed your cheek and you felt heat lick its way up your neck to your face.

When nothing else happened after a few seconds, you finally opened your eyes, and Chase was still staring at you, this time looking bemused. Oh no.

“You had an eyelash stuck to your cheek.” You nodded at the simple explanation, shame and humiliation in equal part flooding your system.

“Thanks,” you muttered, almost inaudible, as you looked anywhere but him.

The second your eyes dropped from his and red flooded his cheeks, Chase knew he had fucked up. And fucked up hard. You looked positively mortified, and it was abundantly clear you had expected something more, something he was all too willing but too apparently oblivious to give.

Fuck.

He had always known he liked you. From the moment the two of you had met and you had been able to not only match wits with Jay but share the group’s appreciation for music and art, he knew. But getting up the courage to say anything was impossible, even with all the time the two of you spent together, or perhaps because of it. After all, what was the appropriate time to tell your best friend you were more or less in love with them?

It could have been then and now, a moment of utter perfection handed down by the universe through Jay’s attempts at matchmaking, but it had passed. Fled the scene in the wake of his blunder, its disappearance obvious in how you situated yourself as far from him as possible and tried to hide your embarrassed tears with your hair.

Uncertainty and panic of a nature he had never known swept through him at the sight. What if he had messed up everything? What if you stopped coming by the studio on late nights to remind them to sleep? What if your gestures of comfort when all of them became too frustrated to think ceased?

What if he lost you as a friend, all because he had been too dumb to read the signs?

The crashing wave of possibilities was intimidating, almost keeping him frozen as the tension rose. What would happen, he had no clue, but he did know that if something wasn't done, he'd probably lose it. Even if it destroyed everything, he had to try something because seeing you like this was killing him.

As if you were a small creature not to be disturbed, he reached over and swept up the remote. He watched you jolt as the press of a button made the screen go black and the room fall incredibly silent. Acting completely independently of the coherent thought that had been washed from his mind, his hand found your shoulder, turning you back to face him. Your startled eyes met his, wide and unsure, and surprised at the faint light of determination in his.

“Ch-Chase…?” His name as it passed your lips was barely a whisper, too hesitant to be much more than that. The tension crawled molasses slow along your skin, wrapping you in a tight and nearly suffocating embrace. It felt like an eternity with your gazes locked on one another’s, the feeling of drowning in his stare beginning to consume you when he finally leaned in and this time when you closed your eyes, you got exactly what you’d wanted.

What kissing Chacha Malone was like you couldn’t have hoped to guess. It was something you never thought you would get to experience. Yet as his mouth found yours, molding together in a way that was almost too perfect, you were struck with the notion that it was something you would give anything to do again. Your head tilted back in response, following the light touch of his hand cupping your neck to deepen the kiss. Restless fingers found the neck of his hoodie and tugged him even closer, wanting to get everything out of the kiss that you could.

The need for oxygen that had your lungs screaming in your chest was the only thing that kept you from pressing into him further, or begging with fingers cascading through his hair for something beyond the sensation of his lips against yours. Taking a moment to collect yourself and enough oxygen to think past your spiralling emotions, your eyes remained closed, missing the way his expression shifted into something along the lines of stunned or star-struck. He studied you silently as you finally opened your eyes again, meeting his gaze with pupils blown wide and lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss and, in short, perfect. A few moments later those lips split into a shy smile and you let out a soft laugh that made his heart warmer just hearing it.

“Well,” you started, slightly breathless even still, “that was… That was something.”

“Uh yeah,” he muttered. Now that the moment had passed, he found himself incredibly embarrassed that he had done something so rash. He supposed he was lucky you hadn’t utterly rejected him. That would have been infinitely worse.

“So…” Embarrassment was making the rounds now to you, and it brought with it a healthy dose of uncertainty. Where did this leave you? “I’ll be straight. I like you, and I’d really like it if you liked me too. But if this was just a one time thing tell me now so I don’t humiliate myself later.” His eyes widened for a moment before he shook his head.

“No, definitely not a one time thing. At least, I’d like it not to be. If, uh, that’s what you want too. Because I kind of, maybe, like you too.” A sly grin crossed your lips.

“‘Maybe’? That’s not good enough, Chase,” you teased, watching with utter amusement as panic set in, and he hurried to elaborate.

“Wait wait wait, I like you too! For real.” Another giggle escaped you and, feeling bold now, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“I’m glad,” you told him, softer now, a matching smile replacing your earlier one. He returned it with a genuine grin of his own and slid an arm around your waist.

“So about that whole ‘Netflix and chill’ thing.”

“Don’t push your luck, slick.”

Wearing matching idiotic grins, the two of you settled back on the couch, much more comfortably entwined than before. As you engrossed yourself in the next episode, Chase slid his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text.

To: Simon I believe you and Loco owe Jay ten bucks. Just saying.

#aomg scenario #khh scenario #chacha malone scenario #chase malone scenario #aomg fluff #khh fluff #chacha malone fluff #chase malone fluff #; bc chase needs more love and appreciation #; he's such a good guy honestly I wish I was actually friends with him lol #no rating

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