Work Text:
Based off this gifset of Chansoo arm-wrestling~
Chanyeol knows Kyungsoo isn’t as strong as he is. He knows, but he still insists on these useless arm wrestling matches that Kyungsoo always loses.
Kyungsoo tries to ignore him, but a bored Chanyeol is ten times more persistent than the usual. Right now he’s practically bouncing off the walls, right leg jumping in a jackhammer rhythm even as he’s getting his makeup fixed.
The stylist noona raises an eyebrow, but politely doesn’t comment.
As soon as she leaves, Chanyeol puts his elbow on the table and offers his open hand challengingly. The open-mouthed grin and shining eyes are practically begging, undeterred even by a whole morning of Kyungsoo’s firm rejections.
He’s impossible.
Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he sighs, sitting down.
The big palm with its long slender fingers engulfs his as soon as the word leaves his mouth.
“Alright, on three!” says Chanyeol excitedly.
“One,” says Kyungsoo with much less enthusiasm.
“Two!”
“Three.”
Bam. Kyungsoo’s fist hits the table and Chanyeol cackles in glee, teeth glowing in the sunlight.
“I win! I beat the mighty Do Kyungsoo~!” the mophead gloats like it’s some new occurrence.
Kyungsoo scowls and swipes half-heartedly at him. But he can’t help laughing a little too, cheeks bunching, caught up with Chanyeol’s childish joy.
They play a few more games, which are less like games and more like brutally quick executions. Kyungsoo’s sure Chanyeol is trying to show off for the film crew, but when he points it out Chanyeol looks confused to see the camera hovering near their table.
It doesn’t stop him from throwing a fast pose, scissoring a V over one eye in an exaggerated wink. Kyungsoo stares, a little dumbfounded.
“I don’t get it,” he finally complains as Chanyeol lines up their hands for another round. “We all know you’re stronger. What’s the point anymore? This is stupid.”
He glares, mouth collecting into a heart-shaped pout.
Chanyeol goes wide-eyed, as if he’s surprised that Kyungsoo hasn’t been able to decipher his thought process when Chanyeol wears his heart on his shoulder.
He clenches his fingers briefly so Kyungsoo glances at their clasped hands, and when he glances back up, the taller boy’s gaze has turned soft with that love-struck puppy dog look he has a habit of wearing around him.
In an instant, Kyungsoo is all too aware of how gently Chanyeol is holding his hand, his palm warm, his fingers dancing playfully over Kyungsoo’s knuckles.
Kyungsoo turns cherry bright. Chanyeol grins impishly as he brings their combined hands down on the table for another win.
Later, when they’re finished with their filming and waiting for lunch with the others, Kyungsoo will carefully slide his hand into Chanyeol’s under the table, making him stutter in mid-conversation with Sehun and Baekhyun.
“Next time, try not to humiliate me if you want to hold my hand,” Kyungsoo tells him in a droll tone low enough for the others to miss, and conveniently pretends his ears are not turning pink.
Everyone looks over, startled, when Chanyeol suddenly tackles Kyungsoo in a full body hug.
“D.O-yahhhh!”
“Chanyeol, get off me!”