[changmin/yunho] fried chicken and eight digit things
title : fried chicken and eight digit things
pairing : changmin/yunho
rating : pg-13
words : 5783
summary : stranded in new york city on christmas eve, changmin scrambles to find a way home.
a/n : secret santa fic for my friend nobetterpicture, sorry this is late and rather half-assed. you've been listening to me whine and gripe about it and here it is. i hope it makes you smile! merry christmas and happy holidays :D
Ebenezer Scrooge was a good man in Changmin’s books, hardworking and frugal with his savings, it could even be said that Ebenezer was Changmin’s role model growing up. For many years Changmin idolized the infamous Scrooge until there came the day when Changmin finally finished the second half of the Christmas Carol and realized that the moral of the story didn’t fit quite well with his own ideals at all. As a result, at the age of fifteen, Shim Changmin swore off Christmas and anything remotely related to it.
Normally, Changmin manages to summon enough fake Christmas cheer to pass for someone that kind of likes the holiday but this year, it’s hard to do even that much. This is a hell year. Nothing seems to go right for Changmin in 2010 and the only reason he’s even looking forward to the holiday season is so he can hopefully sleep through Christmas and New Year’s to wake up to a better 2011.
Unfortunately, things don’t quite work out that way. Then again, they never really do.
Changmin’s last final is to start at 7pm on Friday the night before Christmas and in order to make home to “celebrate” with his family, and he uses the term loosely since his family is Buddhist and there’s always only KFC waiting to be eaten, he basically has to finish his final in an hour at the most and make it to airport for his 10 o’clock flight.
Instead of drinking a cup of coffee at a quarter to 9 and reading a trashy novel while waiting for his row to be boarded, Changmin finds himself stuck in traffic en route to the airport, cursing a few times at his Professor, school, TA, and of course at every car that passes by his taxi.
“Can you go any faster?” Changmin asks, tapping anxiously on the leather seat, “I’ve got a flight to make at 10.”
The taxi driver shrugs and gestures toward the jam up front, “Sorry but it’s pretty hard to get through a pile up like this. Besides, are you sure you’ll be able to get on that flight? Last I heard, all outgoing flights were being canceled.”
Changmin scowls at that and turns to stare out the window, ignoring the driver. Of all the days for there to be a blizzard, it snows like this after his finals are over. What’s the point then? Whoever is in charge of ruling the world this year royally fucks up Changmin’s life and even in the last few days of the year, won’t let him live in peace.
He reaches the airport just in time to hear the announcement being made by management about the closing of the airport, scanning the board to see it filled with dreaded red cancelled text.
“Are there any flights at all?” Changmin asks after waiting in line for nearly an hour, trying his best to look as charming as possible in spite of having slept only three hours in the past four days combined.
“I’m sorry but the airport is currently shut down. There are no outgoing or incoming flights at the moment. You’re welcome to try and book a flight leaving from another airport though,” the young woman behind the counter tells him. She prints out a sheet of flights that would get Changmin home by Christmas and which airports he might be able to take those flights from. “Good luck, Sir and Happy Holidays.”
Changmin can’t tell if she means it or if she’s just programed to say it but either way, he wishes her just as happy a holidays as he’d wish the carolers that like to come around his house right as he’s about to have a food coma. Which is to say he wishes her holidays will suck. Great hairy balls.
The next three hours sees Changmin running around the city trying to find a bus that’ll get him to any other city besides New York so he can get on a connecting flight out of the country. When he finds himself knee-deep in snow in some hick town in upstate New York, Changmin finally gives up, letting his legs defrost as he melts, a puddle of water forming around his person as he waits for a train that should take him across the country so that he might at least be in Seoul by New Year’s Eve.
“Yeah, Mom? I don’t think I’ll be able to make it after all,” he says into the cell, the static and pause between their answers suddenly making him miss home more than ever. “It’s still snowing out here and all flights have been cancelled. I’m going to try to get to San Francisco so I can be home by the 31st.”
Changmin nods his head, slumping further into his seat, a lot more tired than he thought he was as his mom tells him to get some dinner and rest. She worries and nags at him like any other parent would in this situation, finally ending the call with an “I love you” and a “Merry Christmas”.
“Some Christmas this is,” Changmin mutters under his breath, touching his face all over as he tries to massage some feeling back into it.
It’s 4am Christmas Day and instead of being at home, warm and snuggled under the blankets in his bed, Changmin’s waiting on line at the KFC in the transfer station, wanting some mashed potatoes and fried chicken for tradition’s sake if nothing else.
- - -
Yunho taps his fingers on the arm rest and sighs, a cigarette tucked behind his ear as he stares at his brightly lit netbook for the nth time in thirty minutes. He re-reads the same passage again and highlights a word, deleting it and replacing it with another that means the same thing, feeling pathetic as he reaches a new low, editing his sentences so that it’s suddenly fifteen words instead of seven.
“Oppa!” someone whispers at him from the left, a tiny childish giggle following after that.
Yunho turns and smiles at the little kid sitting right across from him, pushing his netbook away on the tiny table as he digs into his bag for some chocolates, “Want another one? Just don’t tell your mom!” Yunho holds a finger up to his own lips and winks at his new friend, handing the chocolates over.
The kid’s mom is sleeping right now, hood thrown over her head as she leans against the window, an arm slung around her daughter’s waist to keep her from wandering off. They got on two stops after Yunho’s and after finding out that they’re on their way to meet up with daddy for the holidays, Yunho sort of melted, as he’s apt to do around kids and he took a particular liking to the kid.
“Hungry?” he asks her, pouting when she nods and rubs her tummy, trying to reach for they chocolates in Yunho’s hand. He laughs and moves to the aisle seat so that he’s closer, unwrapping one of them for her before leaning over to put it into her mouth for her to eat.
The freak blizzard has ruined plans for nearly all the folks on the train, nearly all but not for Yunho. He doesn’t have any concrete plans this year except a deadline looming over his head. A first draft of his next novel, hopefully another best seller, is due January 2nd and if he’s late again on this one, his editor is just going to quit on him.
Yunho doesn’t like to boast but he is a New York Times best selling author, although to be honest, he’s already put everything he had into writing his first novel aka he’s used up all the real-life experiences he’s had until now but with everyone clamoring for a second novel, he’s been left with no choice except write, write and write.
“Go on a trip! Enjoy life and get some fucking new experiences then,” his editor had told him, “and get me that second draft.”
Armed with an hefty advance, Yunho’s been traveling the world. He’s gone to Europe, backpacked (and nearly killed) through Paris, Barcelona and Italy. Now he’s in the States again, wondering if he’ll ever write another novel or if he’s going to be a one hit wonder. He’s already found his book selling for $5 at the local bookstores, a far cry from the $28 they used to go for.
There’s a rest stop in Buffalo where they’re let out to use the bathrooms or just walk around to stretch their legs. It’s not necessary considering this is a high-class and rather expensive sleeper train with plenty of room for moving around but it’s always nice to get some fresh air.
“Mama, can I get some chicken?” the little girl asks and without another word, Yunho’s got her in his arms, picking her up and lifting her right onto his shoulders.
Ever since Yunho could remember, he’s always had an uncanny ability to get along with children. It’s not just that he loves them but he’s also good with them. They’re not scared of him and he’s not at all afraid to be an idiot just to get a smile or laugh. Children gravitate towards him and parents love him. He supposes it helps that he doesn’t look like a creeper who might steal their kids or molest them. He’s not the most handsome but he’s always been told he’s good-looking and most importantly, charming. He’s like a dog, one of those big guardian ones that adults love because they’re loyal and children would nap with in front of the fireplace.
Most people love Yunho while nearly all like him. Nearly all but not all.
“So what do you want? Spicy fried chicken or crispy? They have popcorn chicken too,” Yunho asks the little girl on his shoulders, reaching for his wallet only to have it fall out of his pocket.
He makes a face, trying to bend with a child sitting on him and Changmin who’s standing right behind him and has been straining to see the menu for the first time in his entire life since his growth spurt, rolls his eyes and bends to pick it up for Yunho simply because he’s getting annoyed.
“Here,” Changmin says gruffly, pushing the wallet into Yunho’s hand.
“Oh wow, thanks,” Yunho says with a friendly smile, forgetting for a second that there’s a girl on his shoulders as he turns, watching with a wince as the underside of her rainboot goes smack into Changmin’s cheek.
And that as they say, was the beginning of a terribly long Christmas day.
“I’ll pay for your chicken!” Yunho exclaims, hurrying after Changmin, looking rightfully miserable as he holds onto the little girl’s hand and a bag full of fried chicken.
Changmin’s clutching his left cheek, glaring down at Yunho and the cute girl, holding up a hand to keep them from getting any closer, “Forget it. Just- it’s fine. Please leave me alone.”
Yunho opens his mouth and Changmin glares even harder, eyes narrowing in a way he knows to be very effective in shutting people up and Yunho’s jaw closes almost immediately.
Just what he needed, a swollen cheek. Goddamn, could his day get any worse?
“Watch after your kid better,” Changmin mutters, rushing into the bathroom to check on his face.
Yunho pouts to himself and exchanges looks with his friend, “Maybe we should buy him some chicken anyway, just in case?”
So that’s what he does. Yunho leaves it on a chair and writes a tiny note, hoping that the young man will see it when he comes out of the bathroom. The train is about to leave and Yunho can’t wait to make sure he gets it.
By the time Changmin comes out, he’s sporting a somewhat bruised and definitely red cheek, looking much more tired now as he trudges to get his bags, figuring he’ll forget the fried chicken idea and just get on the train. Except it’s leaving right now. Without him.
Screaming profanities in his head like he’s apt to do on a daily basis, Changmin grabs his bags and runs for it, somehow spying the fried chicken just as he’s about to leave. The one thing he hates more than anything is wasting food and even though it would fuck him up terribly, Changmin runs back to grab the chicken, sprinting out and nearly slipping on the freshly fallen snow as he races after the departing train.
Yunho’s eating his mashed potatoes, sucking on his spoon as he opens the lid of the gravy when he sees Changmin chasing after them and looks around, trying to find the conductor or whoever to get the train to stop. Of course there’s no one in sight and the only thing Yunho remembers from all his years as a human is that one scene in the Polar Express, wiping his hands clean of chicken grease as he yanks on the emergency brakes, wincing at the shrill shriek of metal as the train suddenly comes to a stop.
Long story short, Yunho gets a stern talking to as Changmin’s brought onto the train, jeans soaked from the knees down, his bags and hair fairly wet as well. He’s got a permanent scowl on his face and is muttering something underneath his breath about “stinking trains” and “lousiest Christmas ever”.
As fate would have it, Changmin’s directed to his train cabin and Yunho waves as brightly as he can, wanting to start things off on a good foot after what happened earlier. Changmin doesn’t seem to be having any of it though, dropping his bags onto the seat as he sinks into his chair, knuckles looking red and raw as he cracks them. Hard.
“So where are you heading?” Yunho asks with a hesitant smile, “all the way to San Francisco?”
Changmin grits his teeth, cursing again and again at all the Gods he knows of for placing him on the same train, same cabin as this man and nods, “Yeah.”
Yunho tries a few times but Changmin’s completely unwilling to converse, answering in either grunts or monosyllables. He gets the hint eventually and retreats into his tiny space, chewing quietly on his wedges as he watches Changmin out of the corner of his eyes.
Just like a freaking squirrel, Changmin thinks to himself. Despite being extremely tired to the point where he feels like he’ll drop dead if he has to move another step, Changmin can’t fall asleep. Whether it’s insomnia or because he doesn’t like the bed on the sleeper train, Changmin just cannot catch a break. Every time he closes his eyes to nap, he wakes up minutes later significantly more pissed and moodier than before.
The thing about Changmin is that there are certain days where he just cannot be around people. Days where no matter how nice and sweet or kind people are to him, he cannot stand them. Today must be one of those days considering how every time his cabin mate asks if he wants something to eat or drink, Changmin’s ready to snap at him and claw his eyes out. In fact, in his mind, he’s vividly hitting Yunho in the head with something hard like a textbook and stuffing massive amounds of chicken drumsticks into Yunho’s mouth at the same time. It’s a nice dream to have.
“Where’s your kid?” Changmin finally asks after a long period of silence.
Yunho’s typing away again and shakes his head, “Not ‘my kid’. She’s in the cabin next door with her mother. We share the same sitting space, that’s all. She’s cute and we’re really sorry about the kick by the way.” It’s the tenth time he’s apologizing in the last few hours but Changmin hasn’t said anything to acknowledge the apology. Yunho’s unnerved by it.
Sometime in the afternoon, Changmin finally falls asleep and Yunho can’t help but stare at the younger man’s long, long lashes and the way they look fanned out so prettily against Changmin’s pale skin. He looks much more beautiful when he’s sleeping and it’s probably because Changmin’s no longer scowling and glaring. Plus, he’s also not talking. With his lips slightly parted and a bit pouty as well, Yunho suddenly realizes that Changmin’s actually really good looking. If only his personality was a bit...warmer. Although anything breathing would probably be warmer than Changmin.
It’s not like Yunho’s snooping on purpose but the one thing that every writer is helpless against is stroking his own ego. He spies a familiar book on Changmin’s lap, the same one that he’d seen selling for $5 and can’t help but smile, suddenly puffing out his chest a bit, proud of the fact that Changmin’s reading his book.
Even though they haven’t talked much, Yunho’s managed to learn a few things from his constant badgering of Changmin. The younger man is smart, really smart. It’s not just that Changmin goes to a good university but whenever Changmin speaks, it’s obvious how intelligent and mature he is, even if he is a bit pretentious and full of himself at times. For some reason, Yunho finds it appealing. He likes that Changmin is a bit guarded because at least he can tell that the younger man isn’t purposely being an ass, there’s something else there.
Or so Yunho hopes.
Unfortunately though, Changmin’s sour mood doesn’t go away even after a nap. When he wakes to find the train static and looks out the window to see nothing but snow, his heart sinks even more and he’s up within a minute, walking right into what seems to be an impromptu Christmas party in the other cabin with a snarl.
For some reason, he seeks Yunho out immediately, going straight to the older man’s side, asking immediately why the train has stopped moving.
“Too much snow, Changmin-ah!” Yunho replies, sipping on a paper cup filled with what looks like Coca Cola, “the train can’t move. The tracks are frozen over so we’re stuck here until they get it to work.”
Changmin’s frustration only builds at that point and instead of accepting the cup of soda someone offers him, he storms off into his cabin, staring angrily at the snow, scowling so hard that even his face starts to hurt.
He tries to read his new book that he picked up at the station earlier but can’t focus, finding himself skipping through paragraphs of words even though he does like this book. It’s the damn Christmas music coming from the cabin next to his. Why are these people partying when they’re stuck on a train of all things?
The music stops suddenly and Changmin lets out a relieved sigh, finally kicking back and relaxing a bit when suddenly he hears the jingling of bells and a very fake “Ho ho ho!” echoing through the train.
“Oh fuck my life,” Changmin grumbles, hitting his forehead with his new book.
It’s the last straw and with the week and more specifically, day that Changmin’s been having, he’s reached the boiling point, shaking his head angrily as he storms back into the cabin, slamming the door shut and staring at all of the people gathered there with frustration and fury.
“Are you people serious?” He asks, “seriously? We’re stuck on a train in the middle of nowhere, probably Idaho or some hick state and all you guys can think of doing is this? Can we stop with the Christmas music and fake holiday cheer? No one cares!”
Yunho stares blankly at Changmin, currently outfitted in a makeshift Santa costume that one of the other travelers had in their suitcase, his stomach stuffed with the insides of a pillow and cringes, walking towards Changmin before someone else decides to punch the younger man. He drags Changmin out of the cabin and out of the train period, shivering in the cold as he stares in disbelief at Changmin. He could tell that Changmin wasn’t so keen on Christmas but at the same time, for him to storm in there like that and throw a fit is completely unacceptable.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I was just telling the truth. Santa doesn’t even exist.”
“Not for you but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist for others!” Yunho says, scowling back for the first time, “she’s six! Can’t you give her another year or two before trying to make her into another you? God, Changmin I don’t care if you believe in Santa or Christmas, that’s not the point!”
Changmin scoffs, actually looking forward to this because he’s been wanting to fight and craving the feeling of shutting someone down for a while now. “So what is the point then? Enlighten me please. I’m Buddhist and my family has never celebrated Christmas. We don’t do the fancy meal or anything like that. We don’t decorate trees or sing carols together. Jesus wasn’t even BORN in December!”
There’s a long pause as Yunho just stares at Changmin, finding it hard to fight the feeling of wanting to slap the younger man in front of him.
“You could be a nice guy,” Yunho finally says, “when you stop trying to be so tough, you look like you could be a nice guy but with a stick as hard and as far shoved up your ass as it is, I can’t see how you bear to live with yourself. Boo hoo, Changmin. You can cry about how hard your life is and how you never celebrated Christmas before but that’s not an excuse to act like a Grinch and try to ruin it for others. I thought you were more mature than this but clearly not. We barely know each other, in fact, we’re kind of strangers but I thought you were a good person.”
Changmin glares again, opening his mouth to argue back and Yunho holds his hand up, shaking his head, “I’m not done yet.” He yanks open the train door and stares long and hard at Changmin, “no wonder I thought you were in your late twenties when I met you, Changmin. You have such an old soul and it’s not because you’re mature or some shit like that, it’s because you’re forcing yourself to age before you’re supposed to. Doesn’t it get tiring to be so mean and nasty? I’m not saying you have to be nice but why can’t you be? You’ll be surprised how much nicer life is to you when you’re nice to it too.”
Yunho ends his long-winded talk with that, pulling his Santa hat back on and adjusting his beard as he walks into the train, not bothering to look back at Changmin as he goes forward.
Things don’t automatically get better after Yunho’s talk but the longer Changmin stays outside in the snow, the more miserable he gets. Leaning against the train, he tries to decide exactly when he got this way, so cold and uncaring to everyone around him, even his family members. He’s never even told his parents and sisters that he loves them and cares for them. He’s always thought that they should figure and know that but who doesn’t like to be told they’re loved right?
As Changmin’s thinking, sitting out in the cold on the steps of the train, he hears the door opening, fully expecting it to be Yunho coming back to yell at him some more when it turns out to be the little girl instead. She looks at him and reaches for his hand, placing something in his hand and closing Changmin’s fingers around the object before walking away, waving bye with a nervous smile.
It’s incredibly corny but when Changmin opens his fist to find a tiny little felt stocking, obviously homemade and rather poorly done, he can’t help smiling. Changmin doesn’t even bother to check what’s inside, tucking it into his jacket pocket as he shoves his hands into them afterward, kicking at the snow and leaning against the door, suddenly a little happier.
It’s then that he realizes, if something so simple can make him happier then he could very well do the same for others couldn’t he?
- - -
Yunho starts to worry when Changmin doesn’t come in after an hour and by the two hour mark he’s freaking out. He’s not the confrontational type for a good reason, Yunho’s always feeling so guilty after yelling at people, even if they rightfully deserve it.
Anxiously pacing in the same spot, Yunho wonders if he overdid the yelling, maybe he was too harsh? He shouldn’t have commented on Changmin’s personal life, what does he know anyway? They’re strangers! Who is he to lecture someone like that?
Minutes away from tugging his own hair out of his head, Changmin suddenly shows up, cheeks a bit pink from the cold probably and instead of heading straight for him to punch him like Yunho imagines, Changmin heads for the little girl and lifts her up to stare out the window.
There’s a loud squeal and predictably, everyone goes toward the windows. Yunho makes his way over after listening to everyone coo and admire something, peering over the shoulders of those shorter than him to see a snowman right outside. There’s a familiar scarf around where his neck should be and two rocks as his eyes with a button for a nose. For some reason the snowman doesn’t have any hands but he does have a baseball cap on his head. Written right next to the snowman are the words “Merry Christmas” and even Yunho has to admire it for a while, appreciating it greatly considering he’s never managed to build a snowman successfully before.
Everyone rushes off the train to make their own snowmen and women while Changmin stays behind, his fingers probably red from rolling snowballs and Yunho lingers behind as well, edging closer and closer until they’re standing right next to each other.
“Smiling suits you much better,” he remarks quietly, feeling awkward and a little nervous to be talking to Changmin again.
“I think it suits me too,” Changmin says with a laugh. There’s a short pause before Changmin turns to look at Yunho, smiling directly at the older man this time, “About before, thanks. I guess I needed that. I’m actually not like this or well I’m not this bad. I really needed to take a step back and appreciate some things in my life.”
He’s got a family that cares and a few close friends that he knows he’ll keep for life. Besides, it’s not like he’s stuck on the train and spending Christmas with a smelly old man. Yunho’s definitely not smelly and he’s definitely not old.
The next day, the snow melts a little and the train is finally able to move. Changmin doesn’t even mind so much anymore, genuinely enjoying himself for the first time in a long time, laughing more than he can remember doing in a while. Yunho’s funny but not in a conventional way, it’s more like Yunho tries to be funny, fails and manages to be so cute while doing so that Changmin can’t help but laugh.
There’s some casual flirting between them, Yunho’s hand will sometimes linger a bit too long on his thigh and Changmin will find himself encouraging the touches, stretching his legs out onto Yunho’s lap once or twice while they read together in the cabin.
It’s nothing too serious and they haven’t kissed or anything of the sort but sometimes late at night while Changmin’s having trouble sleeping, Yunho will wander over to hold his hand, their fingers laced together as Yunho lulls him to sleep, voice soft and low.
In the days leading up to the end of the trip, they spend more and more time together. Changmin will often be found eating by Yunho’s side and Yunho will often be found sleeping with his head tipped over onto Changmin’s shoulder, both of them suddenly inseparable when just a few days ago they’d been like oil and water.
Even an enjoyable vacation has to come to an end though and a few hours before Changmin’s due to get off, Yunho comes over to take a seat next to him, reaching for the book that he’s been trying to finish.
“Do you like this?” Yunho asks, his face a little funny looking even for him.
Changmin shrugs and plucks it back out of Yunho’s hands, nodding as he smiles, something he finds himself doing a lot more of these days. “Yeah, I actually do. I thought it’d be full of bull but the guy is actually pretty funny. Plus, he kind of reminds me of you,” he says with a laugh.
Yunho suddenly turns really red and nods, asking if he can borrow the book. He disappears for at least ten minutes with it and when he comes back, he shoves it into Changmin’s hands, face burning as he tells Changmin to look inside the cover before taking off.
After he finishes packing, Changmin remembers to open the book, gaping a bit as he reads what is written on the title page: Changmin-ah! Merry Christmas. I’m glad you enjoy my book and I hope you’ll think fondly of me and of this trip no matter how badly it may have started out. I’m glad we met after all!
Signed with a tiny star and a heart is Yunho’s name and for the first time, Changmin wonders why he didn’t notice the similarities in their names, groaning as he clutches onto the book and dies a little in his chair. No wonder he felt so familiar with Yunho, he’s been reading about the older man’s entire life in a novel! Humiliated and feeling quite dumb, Changmin doesn’t even notice the numbers written on the inside of the cover until he gets off the train, waving bye to Yunho and the little girl.
Nor does he notice how the numbers seem to have one too many digits.
- - -
Months later, Yunho’s finally managed to get his first draft of his second novel written. It’s a corny book and nothing like his first one, centered on a man finding love in the most unexpected place and while it was meant to be an ode to Changmin, the younger man has never called him back and so however dejected, Yunho had decided to print it anyway. It’s passable writing, not his best but good enough still to earn him a spot on the best sellers list again.
He’s been busy with the promotional tour, going from city to city signing books and taking photos. Yunho doesn’t mean to dwell much on Changmin though it’s hard not to do so, especially when he has to autograph book after book that’s based on their brief encounter.
It’s really not until he reaches New York City though that Yunho’s really reminded of Changmin, especially when he finds himself face-to-face with the younger man one night at Borders. Surprised and a bit peeved.
“You defaced my book,” Changmin says flatly as soon as he gets to the front of the line, holding onto the hardcover book he bought nearly half a year ago at the train station.
Yunho looks up, eyes widened once he recognizes the voice, staring blankly at the younger man for a second before he looks away, somewhat hurt. “If that’s how you feel about it then just give it here and I’ll have them compensate you.”
Five months he’d waited for Changmin to call and the other man never did. Yunho even went so far as to sleep with his cell clutched in his hand or stuffed under his pillow on vibrate so that if there was a phone call or a text, he wouldn’t miss it. He even resorted to using his home phone and hotel phone to call himself just to make sure his cell worked. That’s how pathetic he was and how desperate he was for Changmin to call.
“Look, it’s just twenty bucks, go get it from my manager,” Yunho grumbles, beckoning for the next person in line to come forward.
Changmin shakes his head and takes two steps to his left, blocking Yunho’s view as he opens his book to the page Yunho had scribbled his phone number on, “You know, most phone numbers have seven digits. Yours has eight.”
He lets the words sink in and it’s easy to tell when they do by the color of Yunho’s face, a bright shade of red, much like a tomato or a stop sign actually.
“R- right,” Yunho stutters, grabbing the book with clumsy fingers, his sharpie rolling off the table and falling onto the floor. He stares at the numbers he’d written so many months ago, counting and re-counting under his breath to come to the same conclusion that Changmin probably did when he first saw the message, there are eight numbers and not seven.
Changmin grins and leans against the table, arms folded across his chest, “Told you you defaced my book. There’s eight no matter how many times you count. You can even use your fingers.”
Yunho feels rightfully stupid, realizing he added an extra 4 right in the middle of his cell number, not even at the end or at the beginning so Changmin might’ve been able to call him but right in the middle. Fuck, what was he thinking about then? Oh right, Changmin’s long legs and pale thighs. Right. Completely understandable.
“Give me a new book,” Yunho says gruffly, trying to mask the embarrassment he’s feeling right now, signing his name neatly, adding a tiny heart in place of the star he usually uses and scribbling down his phone number once more.
This time, he checks it over twice before handing the book to Changmin. And this time, Yunho gets a phone call from Changmin just ten minutes after his book signing is over and a short two minute conversation later, Yunho’s got a date for dinner on Friday.
Three weeks after that, he discovers just how good Changmin’s legs look wrapped around his waist and he’s rather proud to say that the younger man’s thighs are no longer as pale as they once used to be. There’s plenty of marks there now, some red and some blue, a few tiny ones amongst the bigger marks and he’s even prouder of the fact that he’s the creator. Best stuff yet, he tells himself every night.
Best stuff yet. -
pairing : changmin/yunho
rating : pg-13
words : 5783
summary : stranded in new york city on christmas eve, changmin scrambles to find a way home.
a/n : secret santa fic for my friend nobetterpicture, sorry this is late and rather half-assed. you've been listening to me whine and gripe about it and here it is. i hope it makes you smile! merry christmas and happy holidays :D
Ebenezer Scrooge was a good man in Changmin’s books, hardworking and frugal with his savings, it could even be said that Ebenezer was Changmin’s role model growing up. For many years Changmin idolized the infamous Scrooge until there came the day when Changmin finally finished the second half of the Christmas Carol and realized that the moral of the story didn’t fit quite well with his own ideals at all. As a result, at the age of fifteen, Shim Changmin swore off Christmas and anything remotely related to it.
Normally, Changmin manages to summon enough fake Christmas cheer to pass for someone that kind of likes the holiday but this year, it’s hard to do even that much. This is a hell year. Nothing seems to go right for Changmin in 2010 and the only reason he’s even looking forward to the holiday season is so he can hopefully sleep through Christmas and New Year’s to wake up to a better 2011.
Unfortunately, things don’t quite work out that way. Then again, they never really do.
Changmin’s last final is to start at 7pm on Friday the night before Christmas and in order to make home to “celebrate” with his family, and he uses the term loosely since his family is Buddhist and there’s always only KFC waiting to be eaten, he basically has to finish his final in an hour at the most and make it to airport for his 10 o’clock flight.
Instead of drinking a cup of coffee at a quarter to 9 and reading a trashy novel while waiting for his row to be boarded, Changmin finds himself stuck in traffic en route to the airport, cursing a few times at his Professor, school, TA, and of course at every car that passes by his taxi.
“Can you go any faster?” Changmin asks, tapping anxiously on the leather seat, “I’ve got a flight to make at 10.”
The taxi driver shrugs and gestures toward the jam up front, “Sorry but it’s pretty hard to get through a pile up like this. Besides, are you sure you’ll be able to get on that flight? Last I heard, all outgoing flights were being canceled.”
Changmin scowls at that and turns to stare out the window, ignoring the driver. Of all the days for there to be a blizzard, it snows like this after his finals are over. What’s the point then? Whoever is in charge of ruling the world this year royally fucks up Changmin’s life and even in the last few days of the year, won’t let him live in peace.
He reaches the airport just in time to hear the announcement being made by management about the closing of the airport, scanning the board to see it filled with dreaded red cancelled text.
“Are there any flights at all?” Changmin asks after waiting in line for nearly an hour, trying his best to look as charming as possible in spite of having slept only three hours in the past four days combined.
“I’m sorry but the airport is currently shut down. There are no outgoing or incoming flights at the moment. You’re welcome to try and book a flight leaving from another airport though,” the young woman behind the counter tells him. She prints out a sheet of flights that would get Changmin home by Christmas and which airports he might be able to take those flights from. “Good luck, Sir and Happy Holidays.”
Changmin can’t tell if she means it or if she’s just programed to say it but either way, he wishes her just as happy a holidays as he’d wish the carolers that like to come around his house right as he’s about to have a food coma. Which is to say he wishes her holidays will suck. Great hairy balls.
The next three hours sees Changmin running around the city trying to find a bus that’ll get him to any other city besides New York so he can get on a connecting flight out of the country. When he finds himself knee-deep in snow in some hick town in upstate New York, Changmin finally gives up, letting his legs defrost as he melts, a puddle of water forming around his person as he waits for a train that should take him across the country so that he might at least be in Seoul by New Year’s Eve.
“Yeah, Mom? I don’t think I’ll be able to make it after all,” he says into the cell, the static and pause between their answers suddenly making him miss home more than ever. “It’s still snowing out here and all flights have been cancelled. I’m going to try to get to San Francisco so I can be home by the 31st.”
Changmin nods his head, slumping further into his seat, a lot more tired than he thought he was as his mom tells him to get some dinner and rest. She worries and nags at him like any other parent would in this situation, finally ending the call with an “I love you” and a “Merry Christmas”.
“Some Christmas this is,” Changmin mutters under his breath, touching his face all over as he tries to massage some feeling back into it.
It’s 4am Christmas Day and instead of being at home, warm and snuggled under the blankets in his bed, Changmin’s waiting on line at the KFC in the transfer station, wanting some mashed potatoes and fried chicken for tradition’s sake if nothing else.
- - -
Yunho taps his fingers on the arm rest and sighs, a cigarette tucked behind his ear as he stares at his brightly lit netbook for the nth time in thirty minutes. He re-reads the same passage again and highlights a word, deleting it and replacing it with another that means the same thing, feeling pathetic as he reaches a new low, editing his sentences so that it’s suddenly fifteen words instead of seven.
“Oppa!” someone whispers at him from the left, a tiny childish giggle following after that.
Yunho turns and smiles at the little kid sitting right across from him, pushing his netbook away on the tiny table as he digs into his bag for some chocolates, “Want another one? Just don’t tell your mom!” Yunho holds a finger up to his own lips and winks at his new friend, handing the chocolates over.
The kid’s mom is sleeping right now, hood thrown over her head as she leans against the window, an arm slung around her daughter’s waist to keep her from wandering off. They got on two stops after Yunho’s and after finding out that they’re on their way to meet up with daddy for the holidays, Yunho sort of melted, as he’s apt to do around kids and he took a particular liking to the kid.
“Hungry?” he asks her, pouting when she nods and rubs her tummy, trying to reach for they chocolates in Yunho’s hand. He laughs and moves to the aisle seat so that he’s closer, unwrapping one of them for her before leaning over to put it into her mouth for her to eat.
The freak blizzard has ruined plans for nearly all the folks on the train, nearly all but not for Yunho. He doesn’t have any concrete plans this year except a deadline looming over his head. A first draft of his next novel, hopefully another best seller, is due January 2nd and if he’s late again on this one, his editor is just going to quit on him.
Yunho doesn’t like to boast but he is a New York Times best selling author, although to be honest, he’s already put everything he had into writing his first novel aka he’s used up all the real-life experiences he’s had until now but with everyone clamoring for a second novel, he’s been left with no choice except write, write and write.
“Go on a trip! Enjoy life and get some fucking new experiences then,” his editor had told him, “and get me that second draft.”
Armed with an hefty advance, Yunho’s been traveling the world. He’s gone to Europe, backpacked (and nearly killed) through Paris, Barcelona and Italy. Now he’s in the States again, wondering if he’ll ever write another novel or if he’s going to be a one hit wonder. He’s already found his book selling for $5 at the local bookstores, a far cry from the $28 they used to go for.
There’s a rest stop in Buffalo where they’re let out to use the bathrooms or just walk around to stretch their legs. It’s not necessary considering this is a high-class and rather expensive sleeper train with plenty of room for moving around but it’s always nice to get some fresh air.
“Mama, can I get some chicken?” the little girl asks and without another word, Yunho’s got her in his arms, picking her up and lifting her right onto his shoulders.
Ever since Yunho could remember, he’s always had an uncanny ability to get along with children. It’s not just that he loves them but he’s also good with them. They’re not scared of him and he’s not at all afraid to be an idiot just to get a smile or laugh. Children gravitate towards him and parents love him. He supposes it helps that he doesn’t look like a creeper who might steal their kids or molest them. He’s not the most handsome but he’s always been told he’s good-looking and most importantly, charming. He’s like a dog, one of those big guardian ones that adults love because they’re loyal and children would nap with in front of the fireplace.
Most people love Yunho while nearly all like him. Nearly all but not all.
“So what do you want? Spicy fried chicken or crispy? They have popcorn chicken too,” Yunho asks the little girl on his shoulders, reaching for his wallet only to have it fall out of his pocket.
He makes a face, trying to bend with a child sitting on him and Changmin who’s standing right behind him and has been straining to see the menu for the first time in his entire life since his growth spurt, rolls his eyes and bends to pick it up for Yunho simply because he’s getting annoyed.
“Here,” Changmin says gruffly, pushing the wallet into Yunho’s hand.
“Oh wow, thanks,” Yunho says with a friendly smile, forgetting for a second that there’s a girl on his shoulders as he turns, watching with a wince as the underside of her rainboot goes smack into Changmin’s cheek.
And that as they say, was the beginning of a terribly long Christmas day.
“I’ll pay for your chicken!” Yunho exclaims, hurrying after Changmin, looking rightfully miserable as he holds onto the little girl’s hand and a bag full of fried chicken.
Changmin’s clutching his left cheek, glaring down at Yunho and the cute girl, holding up a hand to keep them from getting any closer, “Forget it. Just- it’s fine. Please leave me alone.”
Yunho opens his mouth and Changmin glares even harder, eyes narrowing in a way he knows to be very effective in shutting people up and Yunho’s jaw closes almost immediately.
Just what he needed, a swollen cheek. Goddamn, could his day get any worse?
“Watch after your kid better,” Changmin mutters, rushing into the bathroom to check on his face.
Yunho pouts to himself and exchanges looks with his friend, “Maybe we should buy him some chicken anyway, just in case?”
So that’s what he does. Yunho leaves it on a chair and writes a tiny note, hoping that the young man will see it when he comes out of the bathroom. The train is about to leave and Yunho can’t wait to make sure he gets it.
By the time Changmin comes out, he’s sporting a somewhat bruised and definitely red cheek, looking much more tired now as he trudges to get his bags, figuring he’ll forget the fried chicken idea and just get on the train. Except it’s leaving right now. Without him.
Screaming profanities in his head like he’s apt to do on a daily basis, Changmin grabs his bags and runs for it, somehow spying the fried chicken just as he’s about to leave. The one thing he hates more than anything is wasting food and even though it would fuck him up terribly, Changmin runs back to grab the chicken, sprinting out and nearly slipping on the freshly fallen snow as he races after the departing train.
Yunho’s eating his mashed potatoes, sucking on his spoon as he opens the lid of the gravy when he sees Changmin chasing after them and looks around, trying to find the conductor or whoever to get the train to stop. Of course there’s no one in sight and the only thing Yunho remembers from all his years as a human is that one scene in the Polar Express, wiping his hands clean of chicken grease as he yanks on the emergency brakes, wincing at the shrill shriek of metal as the train suddenly comes to a stop.
Long story short, Yunho gets a stern talking to as Changmin’s brought onto the train, jeans soaked from the knees down, his bags and hair fairly wet as well. He’s got a permanent scowl on his face and is muttering something underneath his breath about “stinking trains” and “lousiest Christmas ever”.
As fate would have it, Changmin’s directed to his train cabin and Yunho waves as brightly as he can, wanting to start things off on a good foot after what happened earlier. Changmin doesn’t seem to be having any of it though, dropping his bags onto the seat as he sinks into his chair, knuckles looking red and raw as he cracks them. Hard.
“So where are you heading?” Yunho asks with a hesitant smile, “all the way to San Francisco?”
Changmin grits his teeth, cursing again and again at all the Gods he knows of for placing him on the same train, same cabin as this man and nods, “Yeah.”
Yunho tries a few times but Changmin’s completely unwilling to converse, answering in either grunts or monosyllables. He gets the hint eventually and retreats into his tiny space, chewing quietly on his wedges as he watches Changmin out of the corner of his eyes.
Just like a freaking squirrel, Changmin thinks to himself. Despite being extremely tired to the point where he feels like he’ll drop dead if he has to move another step, Changmin can’t fall asleep. Whether it’s insomnia or because he doesn’t like the bed on the sleeper train, Changmin just cannot catch a break. Every time he closes his eyes to nap, he wakes up minutes later significantly more pissed and moodier than before.
The thing about Changmin is that there are certain days where he just cannot be around people. Days where no matter how nice and sweet or kind people are to him, he cannot stand them. Today must be one of those days considering how every time his cabin mate asks if he wants something to eat or drink, Changmin’s ready to snap at him and claw his eyes out. In fact, in his mind, he’s vividly hitting Yunho in the head with something hard like a textbook and stuffing massive amounds of chicken drumsticks into Yunho’s mouth at the same time. It’s a nice dream to have.
“Where’s your kid?” Changmin finally asks after a long period of silence.
Yunho’s typing away again and shakes his head, “Not ‘my kid’. She’s in the cabin next door with her mother. We share the same sitting space, that’s all. She’s cute and we’re really sorry about the kick by the way.” It’s the tenth time he’s apologizing in the last few hours but Changmin hasn’t said anything to acknowledge the apology. Yunho’s unnerved by it.
Sometime in the afternoon, Changmin finally falls asleep and Yunho can’t help but stare at the younger man’s long, long lashes and the way they look fanned out so prettily against Changmin’s pale skin. He looks much more beautiful when he’s sleeping and it’s probably because Changmin’s no longer scowling and glaring. Plus, he’s also not talking. With his lips slightly parted and a bit pouty as well, Yunho suddenly realizes that Changmin’s actually really good looking. If only his personality was a bit...warmer. Although anything breathing would probably be warmer than Changmin.
It’s not like Yunho’s snooping on purpose but the one thing that every writer is helpless against is stroking his own ego. He spies a familiar book on Changmin’s lap, the same one that he’d seen selling for $5 and can’t help but smile, suddenly puffing out his chest a bit, proud of the fact that Changmin’s reading his book.
Even though they haven’t talked much, Yunho’s managed to learn a few things from his constant badgering of Changmin. The younger man is smart, really smart. It’s not just that Changmin goes to a good university but whenever Changmin speaks, it’s obvious how intelligent and mature he is, even if he is a bit pretentious and full of himself at times. For some reason, Yunho finds it appealing. He likes that Changmin is a bit guarded because at least he can tell that the younger man isn’t purposely being an ass, there’s something else there.
Or so Yunho hopes.
Unfortunately though, Changmin’s sour mood doesn’t go away even after a nap. When he wakes to find the train static and looks out the window to see nothing but snow, his heart sinks even more and he’s up within a minute, walking right into what seems to be an impromptu Christmas party in the other cabin with a snarl.
For some reason, he seeks Yunho out immediately, going straight to the older man’s side, asking immediately why the train has stopped moving.
“Too much snow, Changmin-ah!” Yunho replies, sipping on a paper cup filled with what looks like Coca Cola, “the train can’t move. The tracks are frozen over so we’re stuck here until they get it to work.”
Changmin’s frustration only builds at that point and instead of accepting the cup of soda someone offers him, he storms off into his cabin, staring angrily at the snow, scowling so hard that even his face starts to hurt.
He tries to read his new book that he picked up at the station earlier but can’t focus, finding himself skipping through paragraphs of words even though he does like this book. It’s the damn Christmas music coming from the cabin next to his. Why are these people partying when they’re stuck on a train of all things?
The music stops suddenly and Changmin lets out a relieved sigh, finally kicking back and relaxing a bit when suddenly he hears the jingling of bells and a very fake “Ho ho ho!” echoing through the train.
“Oh fuck my life,” Changmin grumbles, hitting his forehead with his new book.
It’s the last straw and with the week and more specifically, day that Changmin’s been having, he’s reached the boiling point, shaking his head angrily as he storms back into the cabin, slamming the door shut and staring at all of the people gathered there with frustration and fury.
“Are you people serious?” He asks, “seriously? We’re stuck on a train in the middle of nowhere, probably Idaho or some hick state and all you guys can think of doing is this? Can we stop with the Christmas music and fake holiday cheer? No one cares!”
Yunho stares blankly at Changmin, currently outfitted in a makeshift Santa costume that one of the other travelers had in their suitcase, his stomach stuffed with the insides of a pillow and cringes, walking towards Changmin before someone else decides to punch the younger man. He drags Changmin out of the cabin and out of the train period, shivering in the cold as he stares in disbelief at Changmin. He could tell that Changmin wasn’t so keen on Christmas but at the same time, for him to storm in there like that and throw a fit is completely unacceptable.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I was just telling the truth. Santa doesn’t even exist.”
“Not for you but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist for others!” Yunho says, scowling back for the first time, “she’s six! Can’t you give her another year or two before trying to make her into another you? God, Changmin I don’t care if you believe in Santa or Christmas, that’s not the point!”
Changmin scoffs, actually looking forward to this because he’s been wanting to fight and craving the feeling of shutting someone down for a while now. “So what is the point then? Enlighten me please. I’m Buddhist and my family has never celebrated Christmas. We don’t do the fancy meal or anything like that. We don’t decorate trees or sing carols together. Jesus wasn’t even BORN in December!”
There’s a long pause as Yunho just stares at Changmin, finding it hard to fight the feeling of wanting to slap the younger man in front of him.
“You could be a nice guy,” Yunho finally says, “when you stop trying to be so tough, you look like you could be a nice guy but with a stick as hard and as far shoved up your ass as it is, I can’t see how you bear to live with yourself. Boo hoo, Changmin. You can cry about how hard your life is and how you never celebrated Christmas before but that’s not an excuse to act like a Grinch and try to ruin it for others. I thought you were more mature than this but clearly not. We barely know each other, in fact, we’re kind of strangers but I thought you were a good person.”
Changmin glares again, opening his mouth to argue back and Yunho holds his hand up, shaking his head, “I’m not done yet.” He yanks open the train door and stares long and hard at Changmin, “no wonder I thought you were in your late twenties when I met you, Changmin. You have such an old soul and it’s not because you’re mature or some shit like that, it’s because you’re forcing yourself to age before you’re supposed to. Doesn’t it get tiring to be so mean and nasty? I’m not saying you have to be nice but why can’t you be? You’ll be surprised how much nicer life is to you when you’re nice to it too.”
Yunho ends his long-winded talk with that, pulling his Santa hat back on and adjusting his beard as he walks into the train, not bothering to look back at Changmin as he goes forward.
Things don’t automatically get better after Yunho’s talk but the longer Changmin stays outside in the snow, the more miserable he gets. Leaning against the train, he tries to decide exactly when he got this way, so cold and uncaring to everyone around him, even his family members. He’s never even told his parents and sisters that he loves them and cares for them. He’s always thought that they should figure and know that but who doesn’t like to be told they’re loved right?
As Changmin’s thinking, sitting out in the cold on the steps of the train, he hears the door opening, fully expecting it to be Yunho coming back to yell at him some more when it turns out to be the little girl instead. She looks at him and reaches for his hand, placing something in his hand and closing Changmin’s fingers around the object before walking away, waving bye with a nervous smile.
It’s incredibly corny but when Changmin opens his fist to find a tiny little felt stocking, obviously homemade and rather poorly done, he can’t help smiling. Changmin doesn’t even bother to check what’s inside, tucking it into his jacket pocket as he shoves his hands into them afterward, kicking at the snow and leaning against the door, suddenly a little happier.
It’s then that he realizes, if something so simple can make him happier then he could very well do the same for others couldn’t he?
- - -
Yunho starts to worry when Changmin doesn’t come in after an hour and by the two hour mark he’s freaking out. He’s not the confrontational type for a good reason, Yunho’s always feeling so guilty after yelling at people, even if they rightfully deserve it.
Anxiously pacing in the same spot, Yunho wonders if he overdid the yelling, maybe he was too harsh? He shouldn’t have commented on Changmin’s personal life, what does he know anyway? They’re strangers! Who is he to lecture someone like that?
Minutes away from tugging his own hair out of his head, Changmin suddenly shows up, cheeks a bit pink from the cold probably and instead of heading straight for him to punch him like Yunho imagines, Changmin heads for the little girl and lifts her up to stare out the window.
There’s a loud squeal and predictably, everyone goes toward the windows. Yunho makes his way over after listening to everyone coo and admire something, peering over the shoulders of those shorter than him to see a snowman right outside. There’s a familiar scarf around where his neck should be and two rocks as his eyes with a button for a nose. For some reason the snowman doesn’t have any hands but he does have a baseball cap on his head. Written right next to the snowman are the words “Merry Christmas” and even Yunho has to admire it for a while, appreciating it greatly considering he’s never managed to build a snowman successfully before.
Everyone rushes off the train to make their own snowmen and women while Changmin stays behind, his fingers probably red from rolling snowballs and Yunho lingers behind as well, edging closer and closer until they’re standing right next to each other.
“Smiling suits you much better,” he remarks quietly, feeling awkward and a little nervous to be talking to Changmin again.
“I think it suits me too,” Changmin says with a laugh. There’s a short pause before Changmin turns to look at Yunho, smiling directly at the older man this time, “About before, thanks. I guess I needed that. I’m actually not like this or well I’m not this bad. I really needed to take a step back and appreciate some things in my life.”
He’s got a family that cares and a few close friends that he knows he’ll keep for life. Besides, it’s not like he’s stuck on the train and spending Christmas with a smelly old man. Yunho’s definitely not smelly and he’s definitely not old.
The next day, the snow melts a little and the train is finally able to move. Changmin doesn’t even mind so much anymore, genuinely enjoying himself for the first time in a long time, laughing more than he can remember doing in a while. Yunho’s funny but not in a conventional way, it’s more like Yunho tries to be funny, fails and manages to be so cute while doing so that Changmin can’t help but laugh.
There’s some casual flirting between them, Yunho’s hand will sometimes linger a bit too long on his thigh and Changmin will find himself encouraging the touches, stretching his legs out onto Yunho’s lap once or twice while they read together in the cabin.
It’s nothing too serious and they haven’t kissed or anything of the sort but sometimes late at night while Changmin’s having trouble sleeping, Yunho will wander over to hold his hand, their fingers laced together as Yunho lulls him to sleep, voice soft and low.
In the days leading up to the end of the trip, they spend more and more time together. Changmin will often be found eating by Yunho’s side and Yunho will often be found sleeping with his head tipped over onto Changmin’s shoulder, both of them suddenly inseparable when just a few days ago they’d been like oil and water.
Even an enjoyable vacation has to come to an end though and a few hours before Changmin’s due to get off, Yunho comes over to take a seat next to him, reaching for the book that he’s been trying to finish.
“Do you like this?” Yunho asks, his face a little funny looking even for him.
Changmin shrugs and plucks it back out of Yunho’s hands, nodding as he smiles, something he finds himself doing a lot more of these days. “Yeah, I actually do. I thought it’d be full of bull but the guy is actually pretty funny. Plus, he kind of reminds me of you,” he says with a laugh.
Yunho suddenly turns really red and nods, asking if he can borrow the book. He disappears for at least ten minutes with it and when he comes back, he shoves it into Changmin’s hands, face burning as he tells Changmin to look inside the cover before taking off.
After he finishes packing, Changmin remembers to open the book, gaping a bit as he reads what is written on the title page: Changmin-ah! Merry Christmas. I’m glad you enjoy my book and I hope you’ll think fondly of me and of this trip no matter how badly it may have started out. I’m glad we met after all!
Signed with a tiny star and a heart is Yunho’s name and for the first time, Changmin wonders why he didn’t notice the similarities in their names, groaning as he clutches onto the book and dies a little in his chair. No wonder he felt so familiar with Yunho, he’s been reading about the older man’s entire life in a novel! Humiliated and feeling quite dumb, Changmin doesn’t even notice the numbers written on the inside of the cover until he gets off the train, waving bye to Yunho and the little girl.
Nor does he notice how the numbers seem to have one too many digits.
- - -
Months later, Yunho’s finally managed to get his first draft of his second novel written. It’s a corny book and nothing like his first one, centered on a man finding love in the most unexpected place and while it was meant to be an ode to Changmin, the younger man has never called him back and so however dejected, Yunho had decided to print it anyway. It’s passable writing, not his best but good enough still to earn him a spot on the best sellers list again.
He’s been busy with the promotional tour, going from city to city signing books and taking photos. Yunho doesn’t mean to dwell much on Changmin though it’s hard not to do so, especially when he has to autograph book after book that’s based on their brief encounter.
It’s really not until he reaches New York City though that Yunho’s really reminded of Changmin, especially when he finds himself face-to-face with the younger man one night at Borders. Surprised and a bit peeved.
“You defaced my book,” Changmin says flatly as soon as he gets to the front of the line, holding onto the hardcover book he bought nearly half a year ago at the train station.
Yunho looks up, eyes widened once he recognizes the voice, staring blankly at the younger man for a second before he looks away, somewhat hurt. “If that’s how you feel about it then just give it here and I’ll have them compensate you.”
Five months he’d waited for Changmin to call and the other man never did. Yunho even went so far as to sleep with his cell clutched in his hand or stuffed under his pillow on vibrate so that if there was a phone call or a text, he wouldn’t miss it. He even resorted to using his home phone and hotel phone to call himself just to make sure his cell worked. That’s how pathetic he was and how desperate he was for Changmin to call.
“Look, it’s just twenty bucks, go get it from my manager,” Yunho grumbles, beckoning for the next person in line to come forward.
Changmin shakes his head and takes two steps to his left, blocking Yunho’s view as he opens his book to the page Yunho had scribbled his phone number on, “You know, most phone numbers have seven digits. Yours has eight.”
He lets the words sink in and it’s easy to tell when they do by the color of Yunho’s face, a bright shade of red, much like a tomato or a stop sign actually.
“R- right,” Yunho stutters, grabbing the book with clumsy fingers, his sharpie rolling off the table and falling onto the floor. He stares at the numbers he’d written so many months ago, counting and re-counting under his breath to come to the same conclusion that Changmin probably did when he first saw the message, there are eight numbers and not seven.
Changmin grins and leans against the table, arms folded across his chest, “Told you you defaced my book. There’s eight no matter how many times you count. You can even use your fingers.”
Yunho feels rightfully stupid, realizing he added an extra 4 right in the middle of his cell number, not even at the end or at the beginning so Changmin might’ve been able to call him but right in the middle. Fuck, what was he thinking about then? Oh right, Changmin’s long legs and pale thighs. Right. Completely understandable.
“Give me a new book,” Yunho says gruffly, trying to mask the embarrassment he’s feeling right now, signing his name neatly, adding a tiny heart in place of the star he usually uses and scribbling down his phone number once more.
This time, he checks it over twice before handing the book to Changmin. And this time, Yunho gets a phone call from Changmin just ten minutes after his book signing is over and a short two minute conversation later, Yunho’s got a date for dinner on Friday.
Three weeks after that, he discovers just how good Changmin’s legs look wrapped around his waist and he’s rather proud to say that the younger man’s thighs are no longer as pale as they once used to be. There’s plenty of marks there now, some red and some blue, a few tiny ones amongst the bigger marks and he’s even prouder of the fact that he’s the creator. Best stuff yet, he tells himself every night.
Best stuff yet. -