Kill This Love [MeanPlan - COMPLETE]

His Love Is My Favourite

Dinner had been edible, more than edible in fact. Plan had to admit that Mean had surprised him. He'd cleaned all of his plates out of enjoyment rather than due to his anxieties surrounding wasted food. A starter of salmon sushi rolls which had been delicate and fresh. A main course of shredded roast pork and sticky rice that had been well seasoned. A dessert of store bought ice cream and fresh berries, the berries only for Plan as for some reason beyond his comprehension, Mean couldn't stomach fruits. He'd had an extra scoop instead.

The atmosphere remained tense, the massive elephant in the room shoved under fluffy white carpet. Plan wasn't sure how to amend his behaviour to fit this new development, how to be more than friends without ruining the dynamic between them that he'd known so well for three years. Mean was picking at a hangnail under the table as he tried to keep their conversation playful, discussing future projects and conveniently glossing over the film shoot they had scheduled in a few weeks' time. For anyone else, work would have been a safe topic. Plan, however, was reminded of all the photos his followers had been mentioning him in online. Close up shots where he'd been caught unintentionally making heart-eyes at Mean during events they'd both attended. Sometimes, it felt like the fans knew them better than they knew themselves.

There was an air of a TinCan lunch date around them as Plan scraped his fork against the crockery. If Mean was attempting to hide the fact that he was looking, he wasn't doing a very good job of it. The problem was that Plan wasn't feeling very Cantaloupe. He didn't feel awkward, tongue poking out to catch remnants of melted ice cream from the corners of sticky lips. He fought the urge to dry them on the back of a sleeve, letting Mean ogle his glistening mouth. Putting on a damn good show.

Every time Mean dragged his eyes back to his own plate, Plan became a little more agitated at not having broken his shaky resolve. Despite his sated stomach, the rest of him felt unsatisfied. He hadn't agreed to friends with benefits without the damn benefits. He wasn't there to keep things PG-13. They were alone. He couldn't understand why Mean was pretending in the safety of his own flat. He did his best for the giraffe boy's sake, nodding in the right places and murmuring hums of agreement here and there as he tried to ingrain the curve of Mean's lips to memory. He knew patience was a virtue but had trouble in the execution, crossing his legs this way and that, unable to get comfortable. The suspense was like a balloon that Plan wanted to pop.

Mean must have sensed his frustration because once Plan finally threw down his fork, he ran a bare foot up his calf. Head tilted, eyes down and watching the flirtatious gesture through the glass tabletop as though he wasn't the perpetrator. Plan couldn't help noticing how Mean's long eyelashes fluttered across his high cheekbones. For as much as he never liked to acknowledge it, Mean was fucking gorgeous. What he also was, judging by his hot pink ears, was nervous.

The younger had got changed since their interview earlier in the day, casual attire switched out for an all black ensemble. Tight ripped jeans, long sleeved jumper and messy dark hair. All of his facial features looked soft and warm against the stark contrast of his porcelain skin. Plan felt under-dressed, still donning the same green tracksuit it had taken him so long to pick out earlier, he hadn't fancied going through that process again. Now though, he wished he'd made the effort because Mean looked like a model when he wasn't even trying which left him feeling like he'd turned up to a party unaware of the dress code. Mean trailed his foot a little higher.

"Shall we, um, clear the table?" Plan needed a distraction from the temptation flexing toes up his leg, all too aware of the hot flush engulfing him. Mean immediately stopped, letting his foot fall to the floor and relaxing back in his chair. His gaze felt intimidating, eyes studying him curiously as if they were playing an intense game of chess. Check. He nodded once before beginning to carefully gather their plates together.