Panda Cream (1/2)
Title: Panda Cream (1/2)
Lenght: one-shot
Characters: Jongin (centric); Luhan/Lay/Sehun; rest of EXO; Taemin; Minho
Pairings: Jongin/Taemin; ChanyeolxBaekhyun
AU: restaurant
Rating: pg
Word count: 7.810
Genre: comedy
Warnings/notes: sequel to Happy Panda
Summary: Jongin can't decide whether seeing Taemin so frequently is a blessing or the highest form of emotional torture.
"How many times can you text someone without seeming eager?"
__________________________________________
Jongin has successfully managed the ancient art of braiding hair.
Although he is in desperate need of a haircut, fringe reaching past his eyebrows and making him blink many more times per minute than strictly necessary, his hair isn’t nearly long enough to make his newly acquired skill precisely useful. Yet, staring at an empty park for six hours a day can get pretty boring, and his phone battery doesn’t last all that long on constant use. Not many people buy ice cream when it’s two degrees below zero, and without that, Jongin has little to do but fidget with his own hair. The first attempts were clumsy and futile (and Jongin swears he accidentally gave himself a dreadlock at one given point), but by three pm he has accomplished a number of tiny, squiggly braids that, upon taking them off, made his fringe funky and wavy.
Jongin decides he’s going to give fishtail braids a try next time. He cringes only a little bit, because after all, it’s not his fault having an older sister that engraves such terms into his brain.
He’s chewing on an M&M (if Amber, his boss, happens to pass by, he is one hundred percent going to say that the bowl is placed right next to him because he just refilled it, and not because he’s been consistently feeding them to himself for the past weeks) when he hears footsteps approaching. It doesn’t surprise him to see the object of the totality of his daydreams smiling at him from the opposite side of the counter.
“Good afternoon, Jongin,” he greets, his hands reaching to fix the kilometric scarf that wraps endlessly around his neck, almost hiding half of his face. The heat of his breath condenses in the cold Seoul weather; a miniature cloud of fog that wraps around him as his speaks. The tip of his pointy nose is pinky, and his lips, chapped and dry.
It’s the cutest thing Jongin has ever seen.
“Good afternoon, hyung,” he replies. (Taemin asked him to skip on all the bowing and just talk to him comfortably exactly two weeks and three days ago. Jongin nearly passed out, and Taemin’s sundae ended up crooked.) Jongin looks at Taemin appreciatively. His hands are in his pockets and his face is red, and his shoulders are crouched in tension. “Are you sure you want one today? It’s really cold outside.”
Taemin flashes him a grin. “I know,” he says. “I come from outside.”
“Right,” says Jongin, noting to give himself an ironic pat on the back as soon as he’s left alone. “So… you do?”
The boy nods, brushing blonde hair back from his face, and Jongin saves himself the embarrassment of drooling on the spot by turning around to make his prettiest chocolate sundae yet.
“You didn’t have many clients today?”
Jongin turns around, the money already on the counter, and hands Taemin the cup, and he acts like he doesn’t notice when their hands bump together. (Taemin’s hands, Jongin does notice, are almost as cold as the contents of the clear plastic cup. It’s not like Jongin wants to warm them in his own, or anything sappy like that).
“None, actually,” he answers, a bit too fast and a bit too slurred, but Taemin is probably used to Jongin speaking like he’s in a hurry and Jongin isn’t up to tell him that no, that he actually tends to speak rather slowly; that it’s just the fact that his heart is racing and his tongue decides to match up its pace against his will. “You’re the first,” Jongin adds. Person that I’ve ever wanted to keep in my pocket, Jongin keeps to himself.
The blonde glances back at the park Jongin sees everyday from his booth, where the wind shakes trees as tall as buildings (small buildings, but buildings nonetheless), and a lonesome businessman’s hat flies out of his reach. “I can see why,” he says before turning back to him.
Jongin watches him spoon a bit of vanilla frozen yoghurt into his mouth. “You do?” he asks.
Taemin laughs, out loud and ringing, small hand flying up to cover his adorable mouth.
Jongin could die right there.
Taemin doesn’t answer the question, though Jongin isn’t completely sure it was rhetorical. Instead, he steps away, balancing his weight on his feet alternatively as his laughter echoes in Jongin’s ears.
“I’ll see you around, Jongin,” he says, bouncing a few steps further into the park. When Jongin reacts to wave his way, Taemin isn’t seeing him anymore; but he quickly turns around once more. If Jongin was expecting a sudden love declaration, he gets disappointed, because Taemin asks him with a curious tone: “Did you know you look like a poodle today?”
Jongin watches Taemin gesture at a fringe he doesn’t have, fingers waving in the air where his hair would be if he wasn’t currently sporting a (usually hideous, but exceptionally adorable on him) middle part. Jongin touches his own. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t notice,” he mutters under his breath.
He doesn’t know whether or not Taemin heard him (and he dearly hopes he didn’t), but in any case, he’s surprised when the guy adds a gentle “It’s cute!” before turning and leaving for good.
Jongin drops the bowl of M&M’s.
***
“Doesn’t he supposedly have a good taste?” questions Sehun after his shift is over, leaning past the counter and stealing a handful of candy. Jongin acts like he doesn’t see him stuff them in his mouth, because, after all, his own fingers shouldn’t be stained six different colors, either.
“What do you mean?” he asks back.
“I don’t know,” he shrugs; “I mean, he’s dating that golden boy, Prince Charminho, isn’t he?”
“You didn’t have to remind me.” Jongin throws a red M&M at Sehun, and he catches it with his mouth. Feeding him was not Jongin’s intention.
“What I’m saying is,” he continues; “if he has such good taste, why did he call your horrid hair cute?”
The next eight sweets Jongin throws at him, Sehun does not catch.
***
Jongin doesn’t want to say that he isn’t so sure Taemin is dating Prince Charming anymore, but he kind of does.
It’s not that anyone’s told him anything. For a fact, the people that could have told him something insist that no, that they probably are, because their common acquaintances haven’t talked about any breakups in their circle lately, and Minseok of course would have found out.
All that Jongin knows, despite what Minseok or any of his friends say, is that when he first started working at Happy Panda, Prince Charming came with Taemin at least twice a week; and in the last month, Jongin has seen him three times at worst.
Jongin isn’t hopeful, exactly -he just isn’t as convinced as he could be.
He lies on his bed. The bright light of his lamp almost blinds him, and the stuffed animals that sit on the top of his bookshelf stare down at him as if they knew something he doesn’t.
***
“Make it caramel today,” instructs Taemin on a Wednesday. Jongin’s hand freezes on the knob, the other jerking quickly, but not quickly enough, and a string of chocolate fudge sticks to the side of his wrist. “I’m sorry!” apologizes the blonde immediately, although it was only Jongin’s clumsiness that provoked the mess. “I should have told you beforehand; it was a last minute thing…”
Jongin wipes the syrup (only because he doesn’t find licking his arm in front of the clients polite). “It’s fine,” he assures, turning to the row of bottles of syrup and dripping a generous amount into the cup.
When he hands it to the older, he sees him hesitate. At first, he attributes it to the cold. Then, he decides that maybe he decided he doesn’t want caramel on his sundae after all, and he doesn’t know how to say it. Or maybe he wants to tell Jongin that he lied when he said his hair was cute. Or, maybe, that he won’t be coming anymore because can’t stand him. Maybe he wants to file a complaint on Happy Panda’s complaint book on how uncomfortable he feels whenever he catches Jongin staring at him with that expression. He’s probably going to get fired.
Jongin is going to get fired and there’s nothing he can do about it.
“Excuse me if you find this indiscreet,” breaks Taemin after five seconds at worst; “but I- uhh…” Here it comes. Jongin’s eyes squint, the only visible sign of his inner agitation. “Sehun told me you’re a dancer?”
Wait. What?
That was not what Jongin was expecting.
“Uhm,” he stutters. “Yeah?” he confirms, though it sounds questionable even to himself.
“Yeah?” echoes Taemin, a faint smile curving his lips. Jongin nods. “Well, here’s the thing: some of the guys in my dance crew are leaving for college, and I desperately need replacements.” Oh, Christ. Jongin’s fingers grip the counter worktop. "I’m holding auditions next week, and I know it’s really rushed but maybe you would consider participating?”
Taemin looks sheepish and ashamed, as if he was asking Jongin to do him a really horrible favor and not inviting him to what could be the biggest event of his life so far.
Jongin isn’t a dancer, for God’s sake. He’s just a loser that hangs out with friends at the studio instead of the gym.
“I would love to,” says Jongin nonetheless. He tries to make it sound uninterested and nonchalant, but the crack in his voice sells him. He clears his throat, just so that disgraceful sound isn’t the last thing that floats between them.
Taemin smiles, big and brazen. Jongin thinks he sees a little ray of sunshine seeping between the dense clouds, right behind him, and he hopes there won’t be any cartoon pink hearts hovering in the frame, or else he just might be forced to lock himself in the looney bin.
“That’s great,” Taemin grins. The caramel is melting his sundae, but he doesn’t really seem to notice. “I’ll send you the address and- uh.” He regretted it. He totally regretted it. I should say no and save him the inconvenience of having to retreat- “Do you think I can have your number?”
What.
Jongin manages to nod. “Sure,” he chokes out. It’ll be only later that he will realize he forgot to try and sound composed.
“I’m sorry,” insists the blonde as Jongin scribbles his number, and his name beneath it (in horrible, shaky handwriting), on a paper napkin. “It’s really, I don’t know, heedless? But I really need new members for my crew and it’s so hard to find dancers who are willing to integrate into a preformed group…”
Jongin hears him only partly, concentrated on trying not to faint and hit his head against the countertop.
“It’s okay, really,” he mumbles, face hot and probably burgundy, handing the older the napkin. For half a second, he thinks he should maybe make a few presentation cards ̶ and then he remembers they would sit on his wallet until the paper turned yellow.
“Thank you,” he says, as if Jongin had handed him a million dollars. “I’ll text you the address of the studio later. Have a nice day, Jongin,” he waves, Jongin mimicking with a shaky hand.
“You too,” he replies.
“And, oh,” Taemin’s nose scrunches; “you have chocolate on your cheek.”
Of course.
***
“We talked on the phone,” announces Jongin.
He sits on the wooden floor, staring at his own reflection. The boy that looks back at him from the opposite wall is the image of deflection. His back is bent, far from the ideal sitting position, shoulders hunched down and legs spread. He looks completely desolate.
He is.
“So?” asks Yixing. “Have you already fucked it up or not yet?”
Jongin doesn’t take it personally. “Uhh… No? I mean… I think I didn’t. He just gave me the address and that was pretty much it.”
“Did you stammer?”
“No,” he replies. “Maybe just once,” he rectifies.
“But it’s a good thing, isn’t it?” asks Luhan, a few feet away from him. Pressing the soles of his feet together, pulling them towards himself, he puts his hands on his ankles, lining them with his elbows, as he pushes his knees down. “I mean, he must at least bear you if he offered you to be in his team.”
“That,” adds Yixing, leaning his weight on the ballet pole to pull his leg behind him; “or he’s just really desperate. Either way, you win.”
Jongin glowers at him.
Sehun sits with his back against the mirror, legs folded before himself, his fingers tapping on the screen of his phone. “That’s what I said, too,” he agrees. “And you kind of look like less of a loser when you’re dancing. Maybe you can, like, seduce him and shit.”
“I can’t seduce him,” says Jongin. “I can’t even convince the lady at the cafeteria to give me an extra slice of pizza.”
Yixing opens his mouth, but then he closes it again. “It’s true,” he admits.
“And he has a boyfriend,” Jongin reminds the rest in between clenched teeth.
Sehun doesn’t look up from his phone to reply. “That’s Charminho’s problem, isn’t it?”
“No,” answers Luhan; “it’s Taemin’s, too.”
“And not mine,” concludes Jongin. “I am so insignificant that I don’t even fit in this equation.” He pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. “My own existence wounds me deeply,” he says, lying on his side on the floor, curling up into a fetal position. “That’s it, I’m not going.”
Luhan taps Jongin’s butt with his foot. “Of course you are. He asked you to. Don’t you want to please him, Jongin?”
He speaks with the tone you use to coax rebellious children to let go of that hammer, or when a giant Rottweiler is growling at you and their owner isn’t watching.
Jongin is ashamed to say it works on him.
“…Yes,” he admits.
“Very good. Then you’re going to buy new sweatpants, go to that audition and kill it,” commands the blonde, gently but firmly.
“I’m going to trip.”
“You’re not going to trip.”
“I’m going to trip and then I’m going to throw up, and everybody is going to laugh at me and then I will wake up drenched in cold sweat because this is obviously a nightmare.”
Sehun blinks at him uninterestedly from across the room. “Starting when?”
Jongin looks back at him with the same blank expression. “The moment I met you.”
Sehun scowls. “Fucker.”
Jongin shrugs.
“So basically, what you’re saying is,” breaks Yixing; “you’re going to miss the opportunity to be in an amazing crew with an amazing choreographer because you happen to have a crush on said choreographer and aren’t enough of a man to just suck it up and let him be happy with his charming boyfriend?”
“I’m not even going to pass the audition.”
“You probably will, but let’s pretend you don’t: will you miss the chance to try?”
Yixing is consistently a bitch, but he is also quite intelligent. Jongin pulls on the strings of his hood until only his nose is visible. “No?” Sehun scoffs. “Okay, I’ll go,” says Jongin after a minute of deliberation. “But you’re coming with me.”
“We weren’t invited,” argues Luhan.
“I was,” asserts Sehun. “I’m going whether you do or not.”
Jongin gasps. “You want to steal my spot!”
“What spot? I don’t care about your flower boy,” denies Sehun. “I’ve just known Minseok for years and so has he, and I know he’s great at what he does. And he needs new dancers.” He shrugs, and he looks so apathetic to everything that Jongin can’t do anything but believe him.
“Whatever,” he frowns, turning back to Luhan and Yixing. “Are you coming?”
Luhan insists: “We weren’t invited, Jongin.”
“But it’s an open audition!” pleads Jongin. “Isn’t it, Sehun?” The boy nods. “And he was talking in plural, remembers? A few of his members are going to college and he needs replacementsssss…” He drags the ‘s’ for emphasis, and earns himself a chuckle from Yixing. “Please! I need you there for moral support! I can’t do this without you!”
Yixing’s rests his head on Luhan’s shoulder, and they both exchange a look. “Fine,” the blonde gives in. “But you won’t be hiding behind us at any given point.”
“Who knows?” continues Yixing; “we might even watch you trip after all, instead of having you tell us the next morning.”
Jongin could take back the offer. He is right about to.
“My ass is starting to fall asleep,” informs Sehun standing up, effectively distracting Jongin from the excuse he was about to let out explaining why no one should go. “Are we going to dance or are we going to sit here and play the therapist for this insecure ball of fail?”
As Yixing walks to the stereo, Jongin mimics Sehun, quick to go to his spot. “Everybody is so annoying,” he complains. “Luhan is my only friend.”
The blonde flashes him a grin right before the music starts blasting through the speakers.
***
“This jacket is choking me.” Jongin pulls at the fabric, impossibly uncomfortable despite its smoothness.
Yixing rolls his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”
“Your back is smaller than mine, Yixing!”
Jongin stands still in the middle of his room, Luhan circling around him fixing details here and there. “You are the same size, stop being a wimp.”
“…Luhan?” calls Jongin softly, once he makes sure both Sehun and Yixing are distracted enough looking through his closet.
“Yeah?” answers the blonde with the same hush.
Jongin hesitates. “I’m scared,” he lets out after a while. He hates to admit it; it makes him feel defenseless, vulnerable.
Luhan stops brushing his hair in place for a moment, smiling at him with tenderness. “You’ll do great,” he promises. “And if he isn’t capable of seeing that… maybe he isn’t as fantastic as you think.”
Jongin doesn’t have that much faith in himself; but knowing that someone does reassures him.
***
There are a lot more people than Jongin had thought there would.
The way Taemin put it made it seem like he was lacking contestants, but the sign on his chest reads 46, and the studio is crowded.
Jongin pushed Yixing to go before him on the sign-up line, Luhan forcing him to go right after, and as soon as they took their names and gave them their order numbers, they let them go to the main room. It surprised Jongin to see a studio three times bigger than the one he sees every other day. He was expecting something a lot smaller, and upon seeing Taemin walk over to the table placed before the center of the shop, a folder in his hands, he felt three times more intimidated.
It kind of went away when he glanced at the group that waited for instructions, saw him even though he was scrupulously sheltering behind Yixing’s figure and smiled at him. But then he ripped his eyes off the blonde’s and looked at the second person sitting on that table, and that really threw him off.
It’s not like he was totally convinced he had broken up with Charminho; but he didn’t expect to see him there.
“Luhan,” he calls desperately. He looks around, and sees him talking to some guy he is sure he had never met before. “Luhan!” he insists.
The boy turns around, looking at him over his shoulder and then at the direction Jongin is pointing. His half smile melts into a grimace.
Once Luhan is done socializing with strangers (something, Jongin has learned to accept, is impossible to keep him from doing), he comes back to him, and all four guys sit with their backs against the cold wall, watching the auditions. Most of these guys are impressive, and Jongin comprehends that he doesn’t stand a chance.
The auditions are held in groups of five on freestyle. Yixing, #45, goes on the group right before Jongin’s, and he watches him utter despair.
Sehun elbows Jongin before Luhan gets the chance to say anything. “No one cares about Charminho,” he declares. “Now, it’s almost our turn. Focus. Concentrate. Work it. Kill it.”
He finishes his sentence in sync with the end of the song, and they all stand up; Sehun and Luhan’s legs, firm and confident; Jongin’s, wobbly as ever.
Luhan gifts him with a supportive grin. Sehun, on the other hand, gives his butt a friendly pat ̶ as much of an encouragement as he knows he’s going to get from him.
***
Jongin is immersed in a fascinating episode of Fullmetal Alchemist when his phone chimes on his bedside table.
Grunting, he stretches to grab it, his eyes never leaving his laptop screen, and it takes him one and a half scene to finally check the incoming message.
From: Taemin *.*
You did great today! (:
Jongin blinks, closes the window; then he opens it again.
A glitch. It must be a glitch.
But what if it isn’t?
Jongin thinks long and hard about whether or not to reply, and then, on how to do it. Should he be friendly and approachable? Should he be serious and professional?
In the end, he decides to follow Luhan’s advice if he was there ̶ though he will, of course, check tomorrow ̶ : he decides to be Jongin.
To: Taemin *.*
Thank you ;A;
He goes back to his anime, but fails at paying any attention to it, in the end putting his laptop aside and yielding to starting a group chat.
jognin_: he texted me
jognin_: !!!!!!!!
sassyunicorn91: who did
jognin_: taemin
yehet.ohorat: but y
jognin_: idk he said
jognin_: and I quote
jognin_: “you did great today!”
jognin_: and a smiley face
jognin_: (:
luhanlu: jongin thats great!!
jognin_: im shakin
yehet.ohorat: did he say anythin else
yehet.ohorat: ???????
yehet.ohorat: ??
jognin_: no he hasnt replied
luhanlu: what did you say?
jognin_: “thank you”
luhanlu: any emojis?
jognin_: ;A;
sassyunicorn91: you didnt
jognin_: ………………
jognin_: …..ya……..
yehet.ohorat: im facepalmin
sassyunicorn91: remember what u said about the pizza
jognin_: ya
sassyunicorn91: do you see y now
jognin_: :(
luhanlu: dont worry too much its not that bad
jognin_: isnt it :(
jognin_: wait he replied !!!!
jognin_: he says the results will be ready tomorrow
jognin_: and to tell u guys he says hi
jognin_: that u did great 2
jognin_: luhan what do I do im screechin
luhanlu: dont panic
jognin_: 2 late
yehet.ohorat: at least dont vomit
sassyunicorn91: he didn’t vomit today by miracle
jognin_: i could have
luhanlu: did you reply to him
jognin_: no
jognin_: what should i say
luhanlu: tell him to tell you as soon as he makes his decision
luhanlu: and a smiley
yehet.ohorat: tell him hes pretty
jognin_: forreals???
sassyunicorn91: yes
luhanlu: NO!!
jognin_: bitch
jognin_: sehun not u luhan
jognin_: k done
yehet.ohorat: heh
jognin_: fuck u
yehet.ohorat: fuck him
sassyunicorn91: what do u think hes tryna do
yehet.ohorat: lol
jognin_: I hate u both
luhanlu: did he reply?
jognin_: no :(
jognin_: wait yes!!
jognin_: i hadnt heard my phone lol
jognin_: i think i turned off the volume by accident
jognin_: he says he will
luhanlu: smiley?
jognin_: ya (:
jognin_: hes so cute sobs
yehet.ohorat: lame
sassyunicorn91: i know right lol
luhanlu: its his first proper crush cut him some slack
jognin_: thank
jognin_: o shit i forgot i had homework
yehet.ohorat: lol
yehet.ohorat: wait i did too
yehet.ohorat: shit bye
yehet.ohorat has disconnected.
jognin_: ya bye guys
luhanlu: see you!
sassyunicorn91: bye losers
jognin_ has disconnected.
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a/n: part 1 of this thing bc post too large bleh. the proper a/n will be on part 2 \o/