Special - Chapter 6: Foundations

[bloatedwhale]

Summary: Dongwoo makes friends, some old and some new.

Main Characters: CNU, Jinyoung, Gongchan

Side Characters: Sandeul, Baro (will appear much, much later in the fic). Other idols will play very small roles.

Pairings: Shinyoung (CNU + Jinyoung), Shinchan (CNU + Gongchan)

Genre: Sci-Fi / Supernatural, friendship, coming-of-age, implied romance

Rating: G

Chapter length: 2217 words


Dongwoo made remarkable progress in the coming months; he managed to learn to write and read the entire hangul alphabet and was now using a pen and paper to communicate his thoughts on a frequent basis, albeit in simple sentences. Jinyoung was pleasantly surprised to learn from Doctor Shin that Dongwoo was literate, possessing a basic foundation in grammar.

He was putting on weight too, as a result of his healthier diet and improved living conditions. His body was now covered in a layer of lean muscle, a result of his fondness for exercise in the park. He had begun smiling more too. Jinyoung thought he was growing more beautiful by the day and did not hesitate to tell Dongwoo about it, though in various indirect ways:

“Yah, Dongwoo, getting some meat on them bones.”

“Stop eating so much of my food, you’re looking healthier than I am!”

He knew he should probably try being a little more direct, especially after Dongwoo started halving his portions in response to the latter one day, but his face never failed to redden when he tried to congratulate Dongwoo on his toned body, and broad shoulders, and smooth hair, and beautiful, beautiful smiling eyes.

And so, the hapless Jinyoung settled for cheeky half-insults and sneaky compliments, for his sake more than Dongwoo’s. Dongwoo never seemed to mind, as he merely accepted them with an easy-going grin. “Does he even get them?” Jinyoung wondered to himself much too often, always with his characteristic slouch and half-lidded eyes.

He often had to remind himself that Dongwoo was, in fact, older than he, albeit by just a few months, but nevertheless older.

It had been a surprising moment when Jinyoung learnt of this truth. He had been trying to find out a bit more about Dongwoo, learning that he was from Cheongju in the middle of South Korea, and had come to Seoul as a young child. Dongwoo wrote this down with a slight frown on his face - did this topic upset him? Jinyoung stored the result of his insensitivity, an image of a nervous, frowning boy with downcast eyes, into his mind, and labelled it “Not yet” so he would remember not to pry.

After a pregnant pause as Jinyoung sorted out his thoughts, the topic was switched to something a little easier for Dongwoo. A smile instantly made its way onto Dongwoo’s face as he wrote the answer to Jinyoung’s question on his little whiteboard slowly and neatly, squinting slightly as he focused on the task. “16 June”, the board read.

“Wow okay. Which year were you born in? How old are you?” Jinyoung questioned eagerly.

Dongwoo frowned in concentration as he set upon his new task, adding the digits 1, 9, 9 and 1 to the back of the date written on the board. He held it up for Jinyoung to read, grinning toothily in pride.

Jinyoung reeled in shock. “You’re MY age?”

Dongwoo flinched slightly at the increased volume before nodding quickly. In an instant, the friendly atmosphere was destroyed.

Jinyoung seemed to reel from the shock.

Just how long was he out there?

This question made its way to the forefront of Jinyoung’s mind as he stared at the confused boy facing him.

He hastily averted his gaze to the far more interesting floor, his fringe and eyelids casting dark shadows over his face.

“I have to go,” he said half-heartedly, standing up and disappearing into the darkness of the hallway, leaving Dongwoo sitting in the middle of the living room to stare forlornly at the whiteboard in his lap, and wonder what on Earth it was that he had done wrong.

And as the Sun began to rise, he picked up his marker, taking a few moments to admire the darkness of the ink within the clear tube, before adding a quick sketch to the date written on the board. Clutching the marker in his fist, and all his disappointment and worry with it, he rose to his feet, leaving the abandoned board on the otherwise empty floor:

16 June 1991 :(
Dongwoo rubbed his eyes sleepily as he emerged from his dark cocoon. Time to get up. He swung his legs off the thin mattress and stood in line with the other children so they could make their way to the common bathroom.
“Dongwoo-hyung, pass the toothpaste,” said the chubby boy who slept next to him.

Groaning at the intrusion into his empty mind, he used his free hand to grab the toothpaste from the sink and reached over to the boy whilst continuing to scrub his teeth clean.

The distant tinkling of a bell signified breakfast time and the ten boys stopped their brushing and headed to the dining hall, where they had their daily breakfast of seaweed soup with a side of rice.

“Sleep well, hyung?” asked that boy from the bathroom named Junghwan.

Dongwoo gave a noncommittal grunt, his mind somewhere else as he scooped his food into his mouth.

“Didn’t sound like it,” pressed Junghwan, eyes far too bright for such an early hour.

Dongwoo paused, coming back to earth and turned to look at Junghwan quizzically.

Junghwan reached over to Dongwoo’s meal and took a generous scoop of his soup, before pouring it down his throat and licking his lips in satisfaction. He turned to his own meal, leaving Dongwoo hanging for a few moments before he moved his lips to the older boy’s ear and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“You dreamt of your parents, didn’t you?”

Dongwoo’s eyes widened. How did he know?

As if he read Dongwoo’s mind, Junghwan answered, “You called out for them in your sleep.”

Dongwoo lowered his eyes, feeling slightly ashamed that he had done such a thing.

“Hey, bro, don’t be ashamed. We all have memories we don’t like to share,” Junghwan encouraged tactfully, giving Dongwoo a soft pat on the back before he picked up his tray of empty dishes. “Hang in there.”

“Thank you,” Dongwoo answered, and they shared a meaningful glance before separating, for they really weren’t allowed to talk that much at breakfast.

“Where are we going?” The board read as Jinyoung hurried about the apartment, looking for his phone, his wallet, his belt and his watch (in descending order of importance).

“We’re late,” Jinyoung answered, or rather didn’t, eyes darting about the room as he rummaged through his belongings.

He looked up for a moment, meeting the words, “Do you need help?” printed remarkably neatly for a situation like this.

“I need- uh- my wallet,” Jinyoung answered, scratching his scalp as he tried to remember where he hadn’t looked.

Dongwoo paused and wiped the words off. When he held the board out to Jinyoung again, it read “Bathroom”.

“Of course!” Jinyoung exclaimed, patting Dongwoo affectionately on his shoulder. “You’re a great help.”

A minute later, Jinyoung was back in the living room, holding an assortment of items in his right arm and a backpack in his left.

“Shit, we’re totally late. Channie will kill me.”

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” said Chanshik, looking up rather menacingly (to no one’s horror but Dongwoo’s) from his copy of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.

“Sorry, Chan-ah,” said Jinyoung, quite sheepishly. “I overslept.”

“You sure did”, Dongwoo sighed internally as he felt his heart rate normalise, sensing no danger. They were at the coffee shop just across Jinyoung’s apartment block, a whole fifteen minutes after Jinyoung had chosen to roll off his bed. The short hand of the clock at the coffee shop was standing at full attention.

Not sure what to do with himself, Dongwoo stood awkwardly next to Jinyoung, listening to the two long-time pals begin their usual bickering. After a few minutes, though, he gave up on trying to follow their conversation, which sounded unusually friendly for a pair that was just about to turn into the inspiration for a Sherlock Holmes story just a minute ago.

A nudge brought his mind back from the world of the Sherlock Holmes stories he watched on Jinyoung’s TV and into the little coffee shop.

“Sit, you,” Jinyoung told him, with a smile.

“So, this must be the Dongwoo-hyung I’ve heard so much about,” Chanshik smiled, turning to face Dongwoo as if he had just noticed the tall boy’s presence.

He’s heard about me? Dongwoo found himself drifting off into his thoughts again before Jinyoung nudged him in his side.

Jinyoung talks about me.

Dongwoo smiled, rather stupidly.

“Dongwoo-hyung spaces out a lot,” laughed Jinyoung. “Nice work detective Gong.”

Jinyoung and Chanshik high-fived each other with the ease that only best friends could have before settling down, smirking like they had just won the lottery.

“Elementary.”

Jinyoung took a generous sip of the coffee Chanshik had ordered for him. It was just the way Jinyoung liked it: thick, no sugar and as large as possible.

“Want anything?” Jinyoung turned to Dongwoo.

Nodding shyly, Dongwoo pointed at a tall, foamy drink another customer had ordered. Jinyoung smiled, rising from his chair before heading off to the counter, wallet in hand.

Chanshik sipped on his tea, a spicy chai tea latte, observing the wordless exchange that had just taken place before him. He licked his lips, before speaking.

“You’re really something, huh.”

Dongwoo squinted at Chanshik uncomprehendingly.

“Hyung’s changed,” clarified Chanshik, nodding towards Jinyoung, who was currently busy with Dongwoo’s order.

As Jinyoung returned with a smoothie to replace the much too caffeinated frappuccino Dongwoo ordered (he would never know the difference), Chanshik leaned across the table, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“He’s never helped me buy anything, hyung.”

And before Dongwoo could make sense of Chanshik’s cryptic confession, Chanshik had already leaned back into his chair, smiling knowingly at Dongwoo as his second sip of Jinyoung’s coffee disappeared down his throat.

All secrets disappeared with Chanshik.

“Well? How does it feel?” Chanshik asked earnestly, beaming at Dongwoo.

Dongwoo stared bewilderedly at his surroundings. He was feeling a little dizzy with the impact of it all.

Chanshik chuckled, figuring Dongwoo was still trying to adjust.

“I take it you like them?” Chanshik smiled, removing the metal frames from Dongwoo’s face and handing them to the optometrist’s assistant.

Seeing Dongwoo’s disappointment at seeing the world return to its usual blurry look, Chanshik sighed. “Jinyoung-hyung may be a genius at work, but he really is dumb sometimes. How could he not realise you needed glasses?”

Dongwoo shrugged, figuring Chanshik was scolding Jinyoung for not giving him the metal thing to see with.

After getting the glasses back along with his change, Chanshik gently placed the glasses atop Dongwoo’s nose.

“There you go, Hyung. Much better,” he said tenderly, patting Dongwoo on the back.

Dongwoo smiled, giving an approving thumbs-up at the clear image of his new friend.

“You look so much happier.”

“Where were you?” Jinyoung asked, not bothering to move from his comfortable position on the couch.

“Spectacle store. Dongwoo couldn’t see.”

“What?” Jinyoung eyes widened just a little (they were still, technically half lidded). “Why didn’t you tell me?” he whined at Dongwoo.

“Do you seriously expect him to know?” Chanshik asked him, sceptically.

“Wouldn’t he?” Jinyoung asked rather dumbly.

Chanshik sighed exaggeratedly, choosing not to dignify Jinyoung’s stupidity with a proper response and instead moved to pick up the rubbish surrounding the couch like a moat around a castle.

“You need to stop living like a pig.”

“King. I’m a King, and you’re my loyal subject, servant Gong Chanshik,” Jinyoung pointed at Chanshik before taking a sip of his beer. (“Cass,” Dongwoo read from across the room.)

“Ugh, why do I even bother?” Chanshik muttered under his breath.

Taking yet another generous sip, Jinyoung smiled tipsily, before pointing at Dongwoo’s dumbfounded figure. “And you, you’re my Queen!” he proclaimed.

“Okay, okay, time for bed. Why aren’t you sleeping anyway? You’ve been working overtime.”

“I was waiting.”

“For what?”

“Hyungie,” Jinyoung smiled. “And you!”

“Then why did you drink so much?” Chanshik fussed. “You’re embarrassing yourself, hyung.”

“Thirsty.”

Chanshik chose to overlook the fact his red-haired hyung was obviously lying (no one drank beer just because they were thirsty, not when there was a jug of water on the kitchen counter) and decided to escort Jinyoung to his bed.

“Turn off the lights, please. It’s time for bed for you too,” Chanshik called over his shoulder, as he half-carried, half-pulled Jinyoung to his bedroom, hooking Jinyoung’s thin arms over his own, dismissing Dongwoo’s silent offer to help.

The lights went off and Chanshik collapsed on Jinyoung’s bed in exhaustion (Jinyoung was light, but not that light). Jinyoung had passed out on the way there, and was now lying beside Chanshik with a droopy grin on his face. Chanshik felt someone drape a blanket over their bodies and knew it was Dongwoo making sure they were comfortable.

“Thank you, hyung,” he whispered sweetly. “Goodnight.”

He felt a light pat on his shoulder in reply and knew Dongwoo had heard him. Feeling his eyelids get heavier and heavier, he gave into the drowsiness and closed his eyes, just a second too late to see a ball of dim light, just big enough to not have been from the screen of a phone, make its way down the dark corridor.

A/N: I'm feeling so tired ): Today was my first day at university and it felt like a draaaaaag. But I'm updating, because of you! Or rather, because I feel a little guilty for not updating yesterday like I promised...