two yoomin fics: chance; apple (hair) of my eye
chance; g; ~800 wc
The rain is pattering down on Changmin’s umbrella, black just like all the other nondescript ones held in the hands of the other people waiting to cross the street. Changmin isn’t looking any specific direction, just has his eyes open, mind occupied with thoughts of enough nothing to not be exhausting but enough something to not leave him restless. It’s a fine balance that he’s perfected over the years.
Thunder claps and cars rolls by. Loud splashes are made behind him as a baby girl jumps up and down, clutching onto her father’s hand and shrieking with delight. A sigh can be heard by a woman somewhere to his right-maybe her day was exhausting. A man somewhere in front of Changmin talks on his phone in some language that isn’t Korean-maybe Arabic? Perhaps to a relative back home. A teenage girl with headphones on jumps further back from the sidewalk when driving cars splashing up water collecting at the side of the streets threaten to wet her stylish clothes.
Rain hits the ground hard and splits into smaller crystal-looking drops that splash back up off the ground and wet Changmin’s shoes. Thankfully, they’re waterproof. The noise mutes around Changmin and he feels very tired. He wants to rest.
The cars roll to a stop as the light turns yellow, then red-the only color against the grey roads, cars, clothes, sky. The people begin to cross the intersection, busy even on a rainy day like this. Changmin pulls his coat closer against his chest and follows the crowd, not paying too much attention to his path. He’s grown used to the journey home he’s taken for years and knows every dip and crack, so he doesn’t need to watch too carefully. Or maybe he’s just too tired to care enough to do so.
Five years of the same job, five years of the same subway and short walk back home, and Changmin has never tripped. So when the tip of his shoe catches on a rock his eyes widen and he feels himself fall toward the ground in slow motion. Halfway down he instinctively lets his umbrella and readies his arms to absorb the impact. Shit, this is going to be embarrassing,he thinks as the umbrella falls to the ground and rain begins to fall onto him.
An single arm catches him elegantly around the waist, and a broad chest catches Changmin’s hands. His eyes meet a pronounced adam's apple stretching under pale skin. Changmin straightens up without fanfare and notices the stranger’s umbrella is bright, blinding red. He’s a bit awed, then realizes they’re standing close enough for the umbrella to cover the both of them. Changmin bends down to pick up his own and looks the stranger in the face.
He takes in the man’s features despite being exhausted. Kind eyes highlight his face and Changmin feels his soul stretch and mold to new shapes, swallowing his ribs and stomach and threatening to consume his heart. It’s like he’s met this man somewhere before, but knows he hasn’t. Maybe it’s that he wishes he had. Maybe it’s that they are going opposite directions and Changmin wishes they were going the same direction. Or maybe it’s that he wants to strike up a conversation right now, introduce himself, ask him to coffee, like it’s done in the movies and have a whirlwind romance with the man with the bright red umbrella and kiNd eyes who prevented his fall but couldn’t prevent him falling in love. But that simply isn’t done.
The fraction of the second passes and Changmin bows quickly and says Thank you, walk safely,before continuing on his way. He reaches the other end of the intersection before the light turns green again so he knows what felt like an eternity was, in reality, not more than a minute.
Changmin goes against everything he believes in when he turns back and sees the other man, looking right back at him. Their eyes meet across lanes metallic blurs and through a deluge of rain. Changmin sees the other man turning back around, walking back toward the intersection, pressing the button to hurry up the pedestrian cross signal.
Changmin feels his heart twist and allows himself a smile. Maybe he would find his happiness today, here, now.
”Um, hi. I’m Yoochun.”
A smile is shared between the two of them, then a handshake.
“Changmin. Thanks for back there. It’s nice to meet you.”
“No problem. Uh, want to get out of this rain and have hot chocolate?”
A raised eyebrow. “Not coffee?”
“No thanks, kind of a recovering addict.”
They share laughter.
“Hot chocolate it is. I have a bit of a sweet tooth myself.”
Yoochun’s eyes crinkle with his smile.
“Me too. Guess we’ll get along fine, then.”
“Hmm, guess we will.”
apple (hair) of my eye; pg-13
Changmin comes back from Kyuhyun’s dorm one day and sees something horrifying: Yoochun, wearing a tank top that exposes his collarbones and shorts that expose his milky thighs and worst of all-his bangs tied up on top of his head. He’s eating ice cream straight from the tub and watching some emotional drama and Changmin’s muscles seize up because oh my god, he’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Changminnie,” Yoochun whines, tears already flowing freely, “this drama is so sad, why did you let me watch it?”
Changmin sighs and sits down next to Yoochun on the floor. He takes a tissue and begins to wipe Yoochun’s tears away, muttering about how foolish his hyung is the whole time.
“Do you really think I’m foolish?” Yoochun blubbers, “because I’m a grown man who cries when I watch dramas?”
The younger boy stills and looks up at apple hair. “No, you’re foolish because of that hairstyle,” Changmin says, and gives Yoochun a quick hug before he can feel his blush becoming too obvious and he flees to his room.
Over the next few weeks, Yoochun keeps his bangs in the apple hairstyle pretty much constantly while they’re in the dorm.
It’s driving Changmin insane.
Every time he sees his hyung the word “cute” blares his in his mind’s loudspeaker and he wants to tell it to shut the fuck up because he doesn’t think he’s ever said the word cute out loud, especially not in front of guys.
Because of a goddamn ponytail on the top of Yoochun’s head, Changmin has been reduced to a blushing, idiotic, stuttering snarky teenager. He used to just be a regular snarky teenager. He misses those days.
Jaejoong always smirks when he notices Changmin sputtering over simple words simply because Yoochun is prancing around the room, hair bouncing on top.
Fuck you, Jaejoong hyung,Changmin screams inside his head. He’s about to scream out loud, too, if someone doesn’t make Yoochun’s hair go back to normal right this instant. There’s only so much he can take.
It’s been a month and Changmin is at his wits’ end. The blushing hasn’t subsided and neither have the urges to squeeze Yoochun in tight hugs whenever he sees him with a sprout of hair on his head.
Yoochun pads into the living room wearing a baby blue two piece fleece-y pajama set, rabbit slippers, thick black framed glasses and worst of all, his hair is in that damned apple style. Again.
Changmin groans internally from his spot on the couch and pretends to focus harder on his book.
Don’t sit next to me don’t talk to me don’t don’t don’t-
“Hi Changminnie,” Yoochun grins, plopping down onto the couch next to him and tucking his knees under his chin.
“Uh, hey hyung,” Changmin says, trying not to look up from his book because if he does he knows he will stare at the lock of hair bouncing everywhere on top of Yoochun’s head.
“What’re you reading?” Yoochun asks somewhat absentmindedly, scrolling on his phone.
“Collection of Japanese folk tales. Some of these are kind of freaky.”
“Changminnie~,” he all but singsand damn it Changmin can barely take this, “you’re so smart. But I miss talking to you. We’ve been so busy lately and I feel like we haven’t gotten a lot of time together.”
Changmin frowns and puts down his book. His chest aches a bit because yeah, they have been really busy preparing for not just a new single or two, but a whole new Korean album, quite possibly the busiest type of promotion cycle.
“I’m sorry, hyung,” Changmin says, and finally turns to face him. He feels his face heat up immediately and doesn’t know what he can do to hide his blush so he doesn’t even try.
“Your face is really red, Changmin-ah. Are you feeling okay?”
At this point Changmin doesn’t know if Yoochun’s just teasing because he knows how Changmin feels about his apple hair or if he’s actually clueless and thinks Changmin has a fever.
Yoochun places a hand on Changmin’s forehead and frowns with confusion because it feels normal.
Then he places his hand on the back of Changmin’s neck, again looking puzzled because nothing seems wrong.
Changmin groans involuntarily.
“What’s wrong? Not feeling too good?”
Changmin shakes his head, and then gives up, plopping his head onto Yoochun’s shoulder.
“Do you know what you have been doing to me for the past month,” he asks, voice dangerously low.
Yoochun swallows and stills. “Um, no.”
Changmin straightens up to look at him. He looks up at the apple hair, then back down to Yoochun’s eyes. Then back up, and back down.
“You have been driving me in-fucking-sane.”
Yoochun looks like he’s about to cry again. Shit. Not the intended effect.
“W-why? Changminnie, did I do something? Are you mad at me?”
Changmin growls in frustration and cards his fingers through Yoochun’s lock of hair bound by a scrunchy atop his head.
“Quite the opposite,” he murmurs, voice softening.
“I-I don’t…”
“Yoochun-hyung,” Changmin all but whimpers, “you’re cute. You’re so cute it’s making me crazy. Your apple hair is always bouncing around now and I think it’s adorable, oh god, what have you done to me?”
Yoochun blinks.
He blinks again.
Then he grins, real slow and sleazy.
“Oh, so that’s what it was.”
“Ugh,” Changmin moans.
“Gonna have to thank Jaejoong for this one,” Yoochun says, slowly but surely invading Changmin’s personal space and cornering him against the armrest of the sofa.
“What the hell does Jaejoong have to do with this?” Changmin mutters, surprised and impressed that he’s still able to form full sentences.
Yoochun grins and presses Changmin down so he’s lying on his back, Yoochun hovering over him. “He told me I should keep my hair like that.”
“That bastard, I swear to god-wait, why do you want to thank him though?”
Changmin’s heart is racing. This may or may not be the moment he may or may not have been waiting for for years.
“Because you finally noticed me,” Yoochun whispers.
Changmin takes a deep breath and wraps his hands around Yoochun’s neck and pulls him down on top of him, their hips aligned and chests pressed together.
“I noticed you a long time ago, I just didn’t think-“
Yoochun presses a finger to Changmin’s lips.
“I’ve been looking at you for a long time, too, Changminnie.”
Changmin reaches a shaky hand upwards and tugs the rubber band off, letting Yoochun’s bangs fall freely across his forehead, brushing against the tops of his eyelashes. The older boy swishes them to the side and leans his head down and his eyes flit to Changmin’s lips, slightly parted and a little dry. He looks up to the boy’s eyes once more, briefly, and he just sees “please” so he kisses Changmin softly.
He presses his lips against the younger boy like he’s the most delicate thing in the world. It almost feels like that, with their thin bodies stacked on top of each other’s-sharp hip bones jabbing and ribs sliding over each other’s, and Changmin’s shoulders shaking noticeably. The younger boy tries to find somewhere to put his hands and settles on gripping Yoochun’s shoulders tighly. They kiss so slow, so sweet, it’s like they’re barely moving.
But they are, and it feels like the bliss Changmin could have only pined for in his wildest dreams.
So this is what it’s like.
Yoochun moves his mouth expertly against Changmin’s inexperienced lips and takes the lead. He presses harder, over and over and Changmin thanks him mentally for going slowly because he know he wouldn’t be able to keep up with anything more than this. His nerves tingle with excitement and curl into the fabric of Yoochun’s shirt and their bodies are pressed together so close but it’s not suffocating-not when Yoochun is taking his time.
And then Yoochun flicks his tongue out, just barely, and at first Changmin doesn’t know how to respond until Yoochun does it again and Changmin gasps and allows Yoochun to take Changmin’s upper lip between his own two. And oh,it tastes so sweet.
Changmin is shaking harder by now but he doesn’t want to stop. Yoochun, however, senses the first hints of discomfort and pulls away, but only by an inch. He noses along Changmin’s jaw and presses a kiss to his cheekbone before wedging himself between Changmin and the back of the couch and resting his arm across Changmin’s chest.
“Don’t worry, we’ll have more chances.”
Changmin turns onto his side to face Yoochun. It’s hard to look him in the eye because he’s never felt this shy before.
“Soon?” he asks, barely audible.
Yoochun grins and kisses his nose. “Very soon.”
Changmin grins and settles his head under Yoochun’s chin and thinks maybe the apple hair idea wasn’t so bad after all.
a/n: now that i have #yoomintlist i am truly unstoppable i have SO MANY YOOMIN THINGS I WANT TO WRITE. HERE'S TWO OF THEM. I HOPE THEY ARE OKAY.
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