Round 15: I Would Walk 500 Miles
Title: I Would Walk 500 Miles
Team: AU
Rating: PG
Fandom: SHINee
Pairing: Jonghyun/Onew
Summary: Jonghyun runs away from home and Onew goes after him.
Author's Note: thank you again to the usual suspects :3 ilu all, you’re amazing and perfect and idk how i’d write without you guys cheering me on ♥
Prompt Used: Epik High - Run
“Okay,” Jinki says, as he sticks the key in the ignition. He hits the switch for the locks once, then twice, and glances at them before flicking the headlights on. “I get it. I mean, I’d be pretty pissed if my mom sold my bass without telling me, but how did you end up in Chicago?” He checks the GPS navigation system sitting on the dashboard, and stabs at the display halfheartedly.
“It’s not important,” Jonghyun says. He presses his forehead against the window and stares at the side mirror. Jinki sighs.
“That’s not an answer. We were all worried.”
“Hyung,” Jonghyun says, looking Jinki in the eyes for the first time since he got in the car. “Can we not talk about it?”
“It’s a seventeen-hour ride back to Boston,” Jinki says, reaching up to adjust the rearview mirror. “You’re going to have to talk eventually.”
“No,” Jonghyun says. “I don’t.” He twists away, rests his head against the window, and closes his eyes. Jinki looks at him for a moment longer, then sighs and starts the car. As he eases out of the parking spot, Jonghyun slouches lower in his seat, tips his head back against the leather, and sighs.
“We could-”
“I’d rather not.”
“Jonghyun.” Jinki tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “I drove all the way out here to pick you up because-”
“Thanks for picking me up,” Jonghyun says quietly. He gives Jinki a sideways glance, and Jinki holds his gaze for a second before nodding. Jonghyun pulls his hood up, closes his eyes, and settles back.
“No problem,” Jinki says. He waits, but if Jonghyun hears, he doesn’t give any indication.
As far as Jinki can remember, he’s known Jonghyun his entire life. There’s this one gap - the first day of preschool. Jinki remembers having his backpack, his mom’s hand in his own, and Minho standing next to him, solemn as ever, but he doesn’t remember Jonghyun being there.
The point is, Kim Jonghyun moved next door to Lee Jinki when they were both four, and they’ve been friends since. They didn’t hit it off easily and perfectly, the way Jonghyun did with Kibum, or develop the sort of relationship Jonghyun has with Taemin, the eternally doting hyung and the grudging dongsaeng, or exist to outdo each other, like Jonghyun and Minho. Jonghyun and Jinki simply exist around each other. Jinki’s pretty sure he’ll never have another friendship like this, and most of the time he’s sure he’d like to keep it that way.
Jonghyun’s been fiddling with the radio for thirty miles when Jinki finally loses his patience.
“Quit it.” He reaches out and slaps Jonghyun’s hand away from the dials, and Jonghyun shoots him a mutinous glare. “It’s all static anyway.”
“You should’ve made a list of good radio stations before coming out.” Jonghyun falls back against his seat, and the tiny car rocks from the impact. Jinki swears and grips the wheel tighter.
“Maybe I would’ve, if I’d known that your mom was going to call me at eight at night panicking because you hadn’t come home like you said you would,” he says. “Where’s your coat?”
Jonghyun is silent for a moment. He doesn’t like worrying his mom, Jinki knows this for a fact. Then he shrugs. “Back in Boston. And you didn’t need to. I would’ve found a way back.”
“How’d you even get all the way out here?”
“Hitchhiked.” Jonghyun rests his forehead against the window. He’s staring at objects that are closer than they appear in the side mirror, index finger tapping against the parking brake every time a red car goes by.
Jinki scoffs. “No you didn’t.”
“Okay,” Jonghyun says blandly. “I didn’t.”
“Jonghyun.”
“Hyung.” Jonghyun sits back again, bringing his knee up to his chest. “Look, I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine.” Jinki reaches forward precariously, trying to keep his eyes on the road as he pops the glove compartment open. “Here.” He extracts a crumpled piece of paper and tosses it in Jonghyun’s lap.
Jonghyun slowly opens it, and he smiles despite himself. “Thanks.” He reaches for the dial again. They get a radio station as they pass through Gary.
“How long was the drive?”
Jinki rubs his face. “I started at 8, I think.” He reaches for his phone and fiddles with it, trying to unlock it. Jonghyun grabs it before he drops it, and goes to his call log.
“You’ve been driving since 9,” Jonghyun says, dropping the phone in the cup holder between them. “Pull over.”
“Why?” Jinki rubs his face again and blinks furiously. His vision blurs, and he can feel his contacts sticking to his eyes.
“I’m driving,” Jonghyun says resolutely. “Come on, pull over. You can sleep. Take your contacts out. You brought your glasses, right?”
“Yeah.” It’s tempting. “But no.”
Jonghyun sighs, his nostrils flaring. “Jinki.”
“Tell me why you…what do I even call it. Ran away?”
“I didn’t run away.”
“Well, then why I had to drive a thousand miles to pick you up.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Jonghyun. You owe me that much.”
Jonghyun’s mouth twists down. “Forget it. Drive. Crash. Whatever.”
“We’re going to have to stay somewhere tonight,” Jinki says. The clocks reads 9 PM, but Jinki isn’t sure what time zone they’re in. “I’m exhausted. Motel 6 or Holiday Inn?”
“Whichever’s cheaper,” Jonghyun says. He doesn’t look at Jinki when he speaks. “Holiday Inn’s are all classy these days, aren’t they?”
Jinki shrugs, flicks on the turn indicator, and takes a right onto an exit. “Don’t Motel 6’s have problems with bedbugs?”
“I think that’s the Super 8 chain,” Jonghyun says. He’s fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie, and he finally turns to look at Jinki, eyes partially covered by his fringe. “Why’d you come and get me?”
“What do you mean?” Jinki brakes at the stoplight and leans forward, craning his head to read road signs. “Am I supposed to turn left or right?”
“The exit sign said left. Look, you can see their sign over there. And answer my question.”
“What question?” Jinki slowly turns the wheel to the left. “Which street is it?”
Jonghyun sighs, short and irritated. “This street, obviously. Look, it leads straight into the motel parking lot. And my question: why did you come to get me?”
“Oh.” They drive down the street in silence for a while as Jinki considers the question.
There’s the fact that Jonghyun had stranded himself in Chicago and his own parents couldn’t get away from their chocolate shop for the thirty hours it would take to drive from Boston to Chicago, pick him up, and bring him back. And there’s the fact that Jonghyun’s mom called Jinki asking him if he could do it. Jinki is giving up his whole weekend for this, and he has a lot of work to do, but he figures it’s something Jonghyun would do for him if the tables were turned. Jinki’s mom doesn’t call Kibum or Minho, and Taemin isn’t an option because his parents don’t trust him to drive halfway across the country.
“Your mom asked me to,” Jinki says, finally. They pull into a parking spot, and Jinki pulls up the emergency brake and pulls the key out of the ignition. “Happy?”
“Fucking delighted,” Jonghyun mutters.
“What’re you so pissed off about?” Jinki tucks the GPS system into the glove compartment and locks it. “I came to get you, didn’t I?”
Jonghyun gets out of the car and slams the door.
The motel has a couple of rooms left, one of which is a double.
“There’s a couch in one,” the manager says, looking through the chart on the motel’s ancient computer. “If you want that.”
“That’s fine,” Jonghyun says shortly. He’s already digging into his back pocket, and Jinki reaches to stop him. “Don’t,” Jonghyun says. “Even if you pay for it my mom will just compensate you. I might as well.”
Jinki looks at him in disbelief. “I wouldn’t take the money.”
“Whatever.” Jonghyun turns to the manager. “How much?”
He pays the sixty-five dollars, signs the receipt with short, angry strokes, and snatches the key from the manager. The manager points wordlessly to the right, and Jonghyun walks off. Jinki shoots the manager and apologetic smile and rushes after him.
“Seriously, what’s your deal?”
“Hyung,” Jonghyun says, as he shoves the key into the lock and twists it aggressively. The door creaks open, and he pushes through it, throwing his jacket on the couch as he makes his way to the bed on the far side of the room. “I don’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to talk about it in the car, and I don’t want to talk about it now. You can call my mom and let her know I’m okay if you want, since you’re doing this for her.”
Jinki looks up from taking his shoes off and raises his eyebrows. “You’re mad about that?”
“I’m mad about a lot of things.”
“Wow, cryptic.”
“I’m tired and I’m going to sleep,” Jonghyun says. There’s a finality to his words, and in the way that he rolls over on the bed, his back to Jinki. Jinki isn’t used to it.
“You shouldn’t sleep on the comforter,” Jinki says quietly.
Jonghyun doesn’t respond. Jinki stares at his back, and drops his coat on top of Jonghyun’s on the couch, and slowly climbs under the covers of the other bed. He closes his eyes, and smiles slightly when he hears rustling from the other bed. When he peeks over, Jonghyun still has his back to him, but is sleeping under the covers.
Jinki’s doing it for Jonghyun’s mother, but he figures that Jonghyun would just know that he’s doing it for him, too. He loves Jonghyun’s mom like he loves his own mother, but he wouldn’t drive halfway across the country for just anyone.
“It’s kind of insulting,” Jinki says softly. He knows Jonghyun is awake. “That you think I’d take your mom’s money for this. We were all worried, I was just the only one who had the time.”
“You said last week that you had two midterms this week,” Jonghyun says. His voice is muffled through the sheets.
“That’s not as important as your parents keeping the shop open, I guess,” Jinki says. He stares at the ceiling as he speaks. “Plus they probably won’t be very hard midterms.”
Jonghyun scoffs, and the rustling from his bed tells Jinki that he’s turned so he’s lying on his back. “Since when are biology midterms not very hard,” he says.
“I’d rather not do well on the midterms than leave you hanging in Chicago,” Jinki says. “Friends before grades. Which doesn’t have the same ring as bros before hos, but you know what I mean.”
Jonghyun makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, and Jinki smiles to himself. Jonghyun has always been easy to break down; the longest he’s ever managed to sulk and stay mad at Jinki is back in high school, when Jinki managed to somehow insult a piece Jonghyun had been working on for his music composition class. Jonghyun had stayed mad until the end of the day, but when the bell rang, he was waiting for Jinki at Jinki’s locker.
“You’re right,” he’d said, kicking at the bottom of the locker.
“About what?” Jinki remembers getting his AP biology book out to take home, and the rolling feeling in the pit of his stomach because he hadn’t eaten lunch.
“The composition was crap,” Jonghyun said. “I’m reworking it.” He looked up at Jinki. “Wanna help?”
Jinki couldn’t-and still can’t-help the way Jonghyun makes him smile, even in the smallest ways. “Sure,” he’d said. “I’d love to.”
“I wish I didn’t,” Jonghyun says. His voice breaks through Jinki’s thoughts. It isn’t as stony as before.
They lay there in silence for a while, and Jinki waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He wants to turn a light on, but also feels like that would break the mood, and Jonghyun would turn away from him again.
“Why didn’t she ask Kibum?” Jonghyun says.
Jinki shifts so that he’s facing Jonghyun’s bed. “What?”
“Why didn’t my mom ask Kibum? I bet he had less stuff to do.”
There have only been a few times in his life that Jinki has actually wanted to punch Jonghyun, either for being obliviously inconsiderate or just plain stupid. This is one of them. “I don’t know,” he grits out. He rolls over. “I’m going to sleep. Good night.”
“Jinki,” Jonghyun says. It sounds like he’s laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m sorry. Honest. I’m glad it’s you. It would suck to have to sit in a car with Kibum for eighteen hours.”
“Even though he’s your best friend?” Jinki feels mollified, but barely.
“Hyung,” Jonghyun says. He isn’t even trying to hide his laughter now. “There’s a difference between best friend and longest friend.”
Jinki falls asleep while contemplating this.
He’s shaken awake what feels like seconds later, and a quick glance at the digital clock sitting on the table between his and Jonghyun’s beds tells him it’s 4:30 in the morning, and definitely not a time to be awake.
“Jonghyun,” he says, voice heavy with sleep. “What?”
“My mom sold my bass guitar,” Jonghyun says, crawling onto the bed and sitting on Jinki’s other side.
Jinki rubs his eyes and stares at the ceiling unblinkingly before turning his head to look at Jonghyun. “I know. She told me.”
“I wouldn’t run away just because she sold my guitar, though,” Jonghyun says. He reaches out and runs his fingers through Jinki’s hair, pushing it up and then smoothing it down. “I’m not that attached to it. I mean, I am, but not…that much.”
Jinki lays there, feeling even sleepier from Jonghyun’s ministrations. “Then why would you run away?”
Jonghyun is quiet for a few moments, and Jinki worries that he wasn’t supposed to ask the question, that Jonghyun wanted to tell him without being questioned.
“It’s stupid,” Jonghyun says. “No, really.”
“Stupider than when you put your Super Soaker in the oven to dry it out?”
“It would’ve worked if I hadn’t forgotten about it,” Jonghyun whines, tugging on Jinki’s hair insistently.
“Ow,” Jinki says, reaching up to loosen Jonghyun’s grip. “Normal people would have put it out in the sun.”
“Well the sun wasn’t working fast enough,” Jonghyun says. “Anyway. It was just…to get away.”
Jinki shifts closer to him and sits up against the headboard. “That isn’t stupid.”
“Running away never solves anything,” Jonghyun says, shaking his head. “And I made my mom worry and I was rude to you in the process, even though you haven’t done anything but drive all the way out here to get me.”
“Don’t start crying,” Jinki says. He’s only half kidding.
“Fuck you, hyung.” Jonghyun untangles his fingers from Jinki’s hair. “Sophie broke up with me.”
“What? Why?” Jinki looks over, and in the dark, he can just barely make out the way Jonghyun’s face closes up.
“She said I wasn’t as committed to the relationship as she is,” he says. He picks at the bedspread. “That I hadn’t put as much into it since the beginning, but that it had gotten worse since I started rooming with you.”
“We started rooming together three years ago,” Jinki says. “Why’s she saying this now?”
Jonghyun bites his bottom lip. “It’s stupid.”
“You could let me decide that,” Jinki says irritably. “Maybe it isn’t.”
“I have other reasons,” Jonghyun says softly. “This was just the biggest one.”
Jinki lets him change the topic. “What else?”
“My dad’s bitching at me about not sticking with the pre-med track.” Jonghyun looks down at his lap, tracing the pattern on the bedspread. Whatever light that is in the room plays across his face, highlighting the high sharpness of his cheekbones and the definition of his jaw. Jinki has always known and been very conscious of how good-looking Jonghyun is, but it always manages to strike him in a different way every time he notices it.
“Do what you want,” Jinki says quietly. He wants to take Jonghyun’s hand, but doesn’t.
Jonghyun sighs. “It’s so easy to say that.”
“You’d be a better teacher than a doctor,” Jinki says matter-of-factly. “I wouldn’t trust you with collecting blood samples.”
“Years of playing guitar have made me very coordinated, thank you very much,” Jonghyun says crossly. He knocks a shoulder against Jinki’s, and Jinki laughs.
“You’d be great at both,” Jinki says. “Honestly. You’d be good at whatever you do if you feel passionately about it.”
“Cheesy,” Jonghyun snorts, but he keeps his shoulder pressed to Jinki’s. They sit there in silence, and Jinki feels the drowsiness creep back over him. He rests his head on Jonghyun’s shoulder, and Jonghyun shifts into a position that feels much better for Jinki’s neck.
“Thanks,” Jinki mumbles in Jonghyun’s shirt.
“Sophie said you’re the biggest part of the problem,” Jonghyun says, voice small.
It’s getting harder and harder for Jinki to stay awake, considering how warm and solid Jonghyun is, but he tries his best. “What’d you say to her?”
A laugh rumbles through Jonghyun’s body. “I told her to fuck off.”
“That must’ve gone over well.”
“She threw your bio book at me. It didn’t hit me, though; don’t worry.”
“I was going to ask if anything happened to the book, actually. Ow,” Jinki huffs, when Jonghyun elbows him in the ribs. “Did she say anything else?”
“Just that it was over. I know what she means, though,” Jonghyun says. He drops an arm over Jinki’s shoulders.
“It’s my fault that you guys broke up?”
“That I pay more attention to you than I do to her,” Jonghyun says.
“Sorry,” Jinki says thickly.
Jonghyun rests his head on top of Jinki’s. “Go to sleep, hyung. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“I’m glad you’re not mad at me anymore, Jonghyunnie,” Jinki says.
“Me, too, hyung.”
Jinki wakes up the next morning to light streaming in through the curtains and over his face, and he blinks a couple of times, shifting around under the covers before realizing that he’s alone in the bed. Jonghyun is sitting on the couch, dozing with his head lolled back, and Jinki feels a distinct sense of loss, even though he has to get out of bed anyway.
“Jonghyun,” he says, as he swings his legs out from under the covers and gingerly puts on his shoes. “Wake up.”
“Mmph,” Jonghyun mumbles, slowly lifting his head. “Hey.”
Jinki stands and begins pulling the covers back over the bed before realizing that it isn’t necessary. He pulls his hoodie over his head instead. “You moved,” he says when he pokes his head through the neck hole.
“It got too warm,” Jonghyun says easily. He grabs his jacket and shoves his arms into the sleeves. “Are we stopping for breakfast?”
“I’m not that hungry,” Jinki says with a shrug. He walks to where his shoes are and begins putting them on. “We can drive for a bit if you want.”
Jonghyun shrugs, freezes halfway through the motion, and rubs the back of his neck. “Whatever you want.” He smiles almost sheepishly, though he really has no reason to be sheepish, as far as Jinki can tell.
“Let’s drive for a while, then,” Jinki says decisively. He pats his pockets. “Where are my keys?”
Jonghyun snorts and grabs them from the nightstand, along with Jinki’s wallet and phone. “Good thing I’m here, hyung.”
“You’re the only reason I’m here,” Jinki says. Jonghyun freezes, then smiles and hands Jinki his stuff. “Roll out,” Jinki says cheerfully.
“Don’t say that.”
Jinki lets Jonghyun push him out the door.
“I don’t like IHOP,” Jonghyun says, when Jinki points to an exit. “Let’s hold out for a Denny’s.”
“It’s already ten,” Jinki says, and his stomach growls on cue. “Your driver is hungry.”
“My driver should be able to hold out for a Denny’s,” Jonghyun says, pouting. “Otherwise I’ll fire him.”
“He’ll leave your ass on the side of the highway,” Jinki says, looking at Jonghyun warningly. Jonghyun beams and grabs Jinki’s right arm.
“Hyung,” he singsongs. “You would never.”
“I’m driving,” Jinki says. “Don’t make me crash.”
Jonghyun snickers. “Don’t blame me for your poor driving skills. Did you bring any CDs?”
Jinki points to the glove compartment, and Jonghyun roots through it happily, pulls out the large case, and begins flipping through the CDs. “Where’s that one mix.”
“Which-oh. Jonghyun, don’t play the song.”
“It’s a road trip song,” Jonghyun says. He pulls out a CD, pushes it into the CD player, and sits back happily, leg already jiggling in anticipation. “Can I turn the volume up?”
Jinki gestures helplessly, and watches as Jonghyun cranks the dial the right. Jinki braces himself.
“WHEN I WAKE UP, WELL I KNOW I’M GOING TO BE, I’M GONNA BE THE MAN WHO WAKES UP NEXT TO YOU,” The Proclaimers croon in their strange Scottish accents. Jinki frantically motions for Jonghyun to turn down the volume, because he doesn’t want to get pulled over by a cop. Jonghyun obliges with a pout.
“But I would walk 500 miles,” Jonghyun sings, rocking back and forth in his seat. “And I would walk 500 more, just to be the man who walks a thousand miles, to fall down at your door.” He presses his nose to the window, and then makes a strangled noise.
“What!” Jinki’s grip tightens on the steering wheel, and he stares at Jonghyun with alarm.
“A sign for Denny’s,” Jonghyun crows. “Take the next exit.”
“I liked you better when you weren’t talking,” Jinki says, as he flicks on the turn indicator.
Jonghyun smiles. “Too bad I know when you’re lying.”
Jonghyun joyfully gets orange juice, claiming that Denny’s orange juice is the best in the world, and peruses the menu while Jinki slowly sips his coffee.
“You get the same thing every time we’re here,” he says, checking the menu to make sure the Heartland Scramble is still there.
“Chocolate chip pancakes or French toast?” Jonghyun muses. “They have platters for both. What’d I get last time?”
“I don’t remember, but you had the same crisis,” Jinki says. He checks his phone; he doesn’t have any missed calls or texts, and then realizes that the person who phones and texts him the most is sitting across from him in the booth.
“Can you get one and I’ll get the other?” Jonghyun smiles winningly. “You like chocolate chip pancakes, don’t lie.”
Jinki considers this, then shrugs. “Fine.”
Jonghyun drums his fingers against the tabletop and sips his juice. “Do you think they have donuts here?”
“You could ask?” Jinki looks around for their waitress. “I want chocolate if we’re getting them.”
“Me, too,” Jonghyun says. “It’s nice to be on the same page.”
Jinki can’t help but smile and nod.
That Denny’s doesn’t have donuts, to Jonghyun’s chagrin, but the waitress tells them that there’s a Dunkin’ Donuts down the road if they have time for a detour. They get a half-dozen chocolate donuts, and then Jinki insists that they can’t waste any more time than they already have, because he really would like to study for his midterms. Jonghyun gets chocolate milk at the last minute, and by the time they leave the store, the owner looks like he wants to throw them out anyway.
“I can feed them to you,” Jonghyun says, as they get into the car. “Actually, do you want me to drive? Seriously, you’ve been driving this entire time and your butt must be killing you.”
“I’d be sitting even if I wasn’t driving,” Jinki says. “It’s fine. Really.”
Jonghyun looks at him dubiously. “Okay. I’ll feed you, then.”
Jinki laughs. “I can eat and drive.” He sticks the key in the ignition and starts the car. The GPS beeps to life, and Jinki buckles his seatbelt. He backs the car out of the parking spot and turns out onto the street. “Do we want east or west for the highway?”
“Ask the GPS lady,” Jonghyun says. He pokes at the display. “Your house or mine?”
“We live next door to each other. Does it make a difference?”
Jonghyun purses his lips. “Point. Your house it is.”
They realize fifteen miles down the highway that the owner gave them five donuts instead of six. Jinki and Jonghyun have already eaten two each, and the last donut sits in the bag, sadly alone. Jonghyun stares from it to Jinki, and back to the donut.
“You can have it,” he says, pushing the bag to Jinki. “I already ate two, and I had the chocolate from the pancakes, and I ate half your French toast anyway-thanks for that, by the way-so this donut clearly belongs to you.”
“We could break it in half,” Jinki says.
“Nah,” Jonghyun says. “If you don’t want it now I’ll put it away.” He rolls the top of the bag down and sets it by his feet. “No big deal.”
There’s a long stretch of silence. It’s comfortable; Jonghyun looks at the list of radio stations and flips through channels, jumping from Britney Spears to Usher and finally settling on Enrique, and Jinki watches road signs fly by. He finally looks at the bag contemplatively, and then asks, hesitantly, “What started your fight with Sophie?”
Jonghyun shifts and kicks his shoes off, crossing his legs on the seat. “You really want to know? I told you it’s stupid. The stupidest.”
“Yeah.”
“I wouldn’t give her the last glass of chocolate milk.”
Jinki stares at him in disbelief. “What?”
“The dining hall ran out of chocolate milk, and I got the very last glass, and I wouldn’t give it to her, even though she wanted it.” Jonghyun exhales. “She started bitching about how I never do stuff like that for her, but I’d give it to you if you asked, or even if you didn’t ask, because she’s always been second to you.”
Jinki frowns. “Bullshit.”
“No,” Jonghyun says quietly. “It’s true.”
Jinki stares at him, completely at a loss for words. The car swerves dangerously, and he scrambles to right it. “What?” He hates that they’re having this conversation in a car hurtling down the highway at seventy miles an hour, because it’s something that requires eye contact.
Jonghyun looks down at his lap. “Well, like.” He pauses, and when he speaks again, Jinki knows he’s choosing his words carefully. “We both like chocolate donuts, right?”
“Yeah.” Jinki isn’t sure where Jonghyun is going with this.
“But I’d always give you the last chocolate donut.” Jonghyun grabs the strings of his hoodie, wrapping them around his fingers tighter and tighter as he speaks. “And I’ve given you the last glass of chocolate milk before, and I’d give you the last piece of samgyupsal. I’d give you the last of anything, if you asked. Even if you didn’t ask.”
Jinki bites his lower lip. “Oh.”
“You’d do the same for me,” Jonghyun says confidently. He unwinds his left hand from his hoodie strings, and it hovers between them, before he reaches out and takes Jinki’s hand from his lap.
“Yeah,” Jinki says, and it’s so easy to say this and it’s almost surprising. “I would.”
Jonghyun squeezes his hand and simply smiles.
They’re fifty miles outside of Boston when Jonghyun makes Jinki switch with him.
“Sleep,” he commands, though there’s no edge to it. He shoves Jinki into the passenger seat, then rushes around to the driver’s seat and throws himself in before Jinki can protest. “You look tired,” Jonghyun says, brushing Jinki’s hair off his face. The motion is the same, but the connotation is completely different, and Jinki can finally lean into the touch without feeling awkward about it.
“I’m not tired,” Jinki says. He watches as Jonghyun adjusts the mirrors, then pulls out of the rest stop and back onto the highway. “I did it for you,” Jinki says. He can feel his eyelids drooping.
“Did what for me,” Jonghyun says. He takes Jinki’s hand again. Jonghyun has always been clingy: holding hands, wrapping his arm around his girlfriends’ shoulders, pulling them into hugs whenever he felt the urge too. Right now, Jonghyun draws his thumb back and forth over Jinki’s knuckles, and it makes Jinki even sleepier.
“I came to get you for you,” Jinki says. “I would have done it even if your mom hadn’t asked.”
“I know.”
“Good.” Jinki gently shakes his hand free from Jonghyun’s, and bends down to get the last donut. He pulls it out, and looks over at Jonghyun. “Want half?”
Jonghyun smiles, eyes impossibly fond as they crinkle at the corners. “Yeah. Sure.”
Poll Round 15: I Would Walk 500 Miles
Team: AU
Rating: PG
Fandom: SHINee
Pairing: Jonghyun/Onew
Summary: Jonghyun runs away from home and Onew goes after him.
Author's Note: thank you again to the usual suspects :3 ilu all, you’re amazing and perfect and idk how i’d write without you guys cheering me on ♥
Prompt Used: Epik High - Run
“Okay,” Jinki says, as he sticks the key in the ignition. He hits the switch for the locks once, then twice, and glances at them before flicking the headlights on. “I get it. I mean, I’d be pretty pissed if my mom sold my bass without telling me, but how did you end up in Chicago?” He checks the GPS navigation system sitting on the dashboard, and stabs at the display halfheartedly.
“It’s not important,” Jonghyun says. He presses his forehead against the window and stares at the side mirror. Jinki sighs.
“That’s not an answer. We were all worried.”
“Hyung,” Jonghyun says, looking Jinki in the eyes for the first time since he got in the car. “Can we not talk about it?”
“It’s a seventeen-hour ride back to Boston,” Jinki says, reaching up to adjust the rearview mirror. “You’re going to have to talk eventually.”
“No,” Jonghyun says. “I don’t.” He twists away, rests his head against the window, and closes his eyes. Jinki looks at him for a moment longer, then sighs and starts the car. As he eases out of the parking spot, Jonghyun slouches lower in his seat, tips his head back against the leather, and sighs.
“We could-”
“I’d rather not.”
“Jonghyun.” Jinki tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “I drove all the way out here to pick you up because-”
“Thanks for picking me up,” Jonghyun says quietly. He gives Jinki a sideways glance, and Jinki holds his gaze for a second before nodding. Jonghyun pulls his hood up, closes his eyes, and settles back.
“No problem,” Jinki says. He waits, but if Jonghyun hears, he doesn’t give any indication.
As far as Jinki can remember, he’s known Jonghyun his entire life. There’s this one gap - the first day of preschool. Jinki remembers having his backpack, his mom’s hand in his own, and Minho standing next to him, solemn as ever, but he doesn’t remember Jonghyun being there.
The point is, Kim Jonghyun moved next door to Lee Jinki when they were both four, and they’ve been friends since. They didn’t hit it off easily and perfectly, the way Jonghyun did with Kibum, or develop the sort of relationship Jonghyun has with Taemin, the eternally doting hyung and the grudging dongsaeng, or exist to outdo each other, like Jonghyun and Minho. Jonghyun and Jinki simply exist around each other. Jinki’s pretty sure he’ll never have another friendship like this, and most of the time he’s sure he’d like to keep it that way.
Jonghyun’s been fiddling with the radio for thirty miles when Jinki finally loses his patience.
“Quit it.” He reaches out and slaps Jonghyun’s hand away from the dials, and Jonghyun shoots him a mutinous glare. “It’s all static anyway.”
“You should’ve made a list of good radio stations before coming out.” Jonghyun falls back against his seat, and the tiny car rocks from the impact. Jinki swears and grips the wheel tighter.
“Maybe I would’ve, if I’d known that your mom was going to call me at eight at night panicking because you hadn’t come home like you said you would,” he says. “Where’s your coat?”
Jonghyun is silent for a moment. He doesn’t like worrying his mom, Jinki knows this for a fact. Then he shrugs. “Back in Boston. And you didn’t need to. I would’ve found a way back.”
“How’d you even get all the way out here?”
“Hitchhiked.” Jonghyun rests his forehead against the window. He’s staring at objects that are closer than they appear in the side mirror, index finger tapping against the parking brake every time a red car goes by.
Jinki scoffs. “No you didn’t.”
“Okay,” Jonghyun says blandly. “I didn’t.”
“Jonghyun.”
“Hyung.” Jonghyun sits back again, bringing his knee up to his chest. “Look, I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine.” Jinki reaches forward precariously, trying to keep his eyes on the road as he pops the glove compartment open. “Here.” He extracts a crumpled piece of paper and tosses it in Jonghyun’s lap.
Jonghyun slowly opens it, and he smiles despite himself. “Thanks.” He reaches for the dial again. They get a radio station as they pass through Gary.
“How long was the drive?”
Jinki rubs his face. “I started at 8, I think.” He reaches for his phone and fiddles with it, trying to unlock it. Jonghyun grabs it before he drops it, and goes to his call log.
“You’ve been driving since 9,” Jonghyun says, dropping the phone in the cup holder between them. “Pull over.”
“Why?” Jinki rubs his face again and blinks furiously. His vision blurs, and he can feel his contacts sticking to his eyes.
“I’m driving,” Jonghyun says resolutely. “Come on, pull over. You can sleep. Take your contacts out. You brought your glasses, right?”
“Yeah.” It’s tempting. “But no.”
Jonghyun sighs, his nostrils flaring. “Jinki.”
“Tell me why you…what do I even call it. Ran away?”
“I didn’t run away.”
“Well, then why I had to drive a thousand miles to pick you up.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Jonghyun. You owe me that much.”
Jonghyun’s mouth twists down. “Forget it. Drive. Crash. Whatever.”
“We’re going to have to stay somewhere tonight,” Jinki says. The clocks reads 9 PM, but Jinki isn’t sure what time zone they’re in. “I’m exhausted. Motel 6 or Holiday Inn?”
“Whichever’s cheaper,” Jonghyun says. He doesn’t look at Jinki when he speaks. “Holiday Inn’s are all classy these days, aren’t they?”
Jinki shrugs, flicks on the turn indicator, and takes a right onto an exit. “Don’t Motel 6’s have problems with bedbugs?”
“I think that’s the Super 8 chain,” Jonghyun says. He’s fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie, and he finally turns to look at Jinki, eyes partially covered by his fringe. “Why’d you come and get me?”
“What do you mean?” Jinki brakes at the stoplight and leans forward, craning his head to read road signs. “Am I supposed to turn left or right?”
“The exit sign said left. Look, you can see their sign over there. And answer my question.”
“What question?” Jinki slowly turns the wheel to the left. “Which street is it?”
Jonghyun sighs, short and irritated. “This street, obviously. Look, it leads straight into the motel parking lot. And my question: why did you come to get me?”
“Oh.” They drive down the street in silence for a while as Jinki considers the question.
There’s the fact that Jonghyun had stranded himself in Chicago and his own parents couldn’t get away from their chocolate shop for the thirty hours it would take to drive from Boston to Chicago, pick him up, and bring him back. And there’s the fact that Jonghyun’s mom called Jinki asking him if he could do it. Jinki is giving up his whole weekend for this, and he has a lot of work to do, but he figures it’s something Jonghyun would do for him if the tables were turned. Jinki’s mom doesn’t call Kibum or Minho, and Taemin isn’t an option because his parents don’t trust him to drive halfway across the country.
“Your mom asked me to,” Jinki says, finally. They pull into a parking spot, and Jinki pulls up the emergency brake and pulls the key out of the ignition. “Happy?”
“Fucking delighted,” Jonghyun mutters.
“What’re you so pissed off about?” Jinki tucks the GPS system into the glove compartment and locks it. “I came to get you, didn’t I?”
Jonghyun gets out of the car and slams the door.
The motel has a couple of rooms left, one of which is a double.
“There’s a couch in one,” the manager says, looking through the chart on the motel’s ancient computer. “If you want that.”
“That’s fine,” Jonghyun says shortly. He’s already digging into his back pocket, and Jinki reaches to stop him. “Don’t,” Jonghyun says. “Even if you pay for it my mom will just compensate you. I might as well.”
Jinki looks at him in disbelief. “I wouldn’t take the money.”
“Whatever.” Jonghyun turns to the manager. “How much?”
He pays the sixty-five dollars, signs the receipt with short, angry strokes, and snatches the key from the manager. The manager points wordlessly to the right, and Jonghyun walks off. Jinki shoots the manager and apologetic smile and rushes after him.
“Seriously, what’s your deal?”
“Hyung,” Jonghyun says, as he shoves the key into the lock and twists it aggressively. The door creaks open, and he pushes through it, throwing his jacket on the couch as he makes his way to the bed on the far side of the room. “I don’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to talk about it in the car, and I don’t want to talk about it now. You can call my mom and let her know I’m okay if you want, since you’re doing this for her.”
Jinki looks up from taking his shoes off and raises his eyebrows. “You’re mad about that?”
“I’m mad about a lot of things.”
“Wow, cryptic.”
“I’m tired and I’m going to sleep,” Jonghyun says. There’s a finality to his words, and in the way that he rolls over on the bed, his back to Jinki. Jinki isn’t used to it.
“You shouldn’t sleep on the comforter,” Jinki says quietly.
Jonghyun doesn’t respond. Jinki stares at his back, and drops his coat on top of Jonghyun’s on the couch, and slowly climbs under the covers of the other bed. He closes his eyes, and smiles slightly when he hears rustling from the other bed. When he peeks over, Jonghyun still has his back to him, but is sleeping under the covers.
Jinki’s doing it for Jonghyun’s mother, but he figures that Jonghyun would just know that he’s doing it for him, too. He loves Jonghyun’s mom like he loves his own mother, but he wouldn’t drive halfway across the country for just anyone.
“It’s kind of insulting,” Jinki says softly. He knows Jonghyun is awake. “That you think I’d take your mom’s money for this. We were all worried, I was just the only one who had the time.”
“You said last week that you had two midterms this week,” Jonghyun says. His voice is muffled through the sheets.
“That’s not as important as your parents keeping the shop open, I guess,” Jinki says. He stares at the ceiling as he speaks. “Plus they probably won’t be very hard midterms.”
Jonghyun scoffs, and the rustling from his bed tells Jinki that he’s turned so he’s lying on his back. “Since when are biology midterms not very hard,” he says.
“I’d rather not do well on the midterms than leave you hanging in Chicago,” Jinki says. “Friends before grades. Which doesn’t have the same ring as bros before hos, but you know what I mean.”
Jonghyun makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, and Jinki smiles to himself. Jonghyun has always been easy to break down; the longest he’s ever managed to sulk and stay mad at Jinki is back in high school, when Jinki managed to somehow insult a piece Jonghyun had been working on for his music composition class. Jonghyun had stayed mad until the end of the day, but when the bell rang, he was waiting for Jinki at Jinki’s locker.
“You’re right,” he’d said, kicking at the bottom of the locker.
“About what?” Jinki remembers getting his AP biology book out to take home, and the rolling feeling in the pit of his stomach because he hadn’t eaten lunch.
“The composition was crap,” Jonghyun said. “I’m reworking it.” He looked up at Jinki. “Wanna help?”
Jinki couldn’t-and still can’t-help the way Jonghyun makes him smile, even in the smallest ways. “Sure,” he’d said. “I’d love to.”
“I wish I didn’t,” Jonghyun says. His voice breaks through Jinki’s thoughts. It isn’t as stony as before.
They lay there in silence for a while, and Jinki waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He wants to turn a light on, but also feels like that would break the mood, and Jonghyun would turn away from him again.
“Why didn’t she ask Kibum?” Jonghyun says.
Jinki shifts so that he’s facing Jonghyun’s bed. “What?”
“Why didn’t my mom ask Kibum? I bet he had less stuff to do.”
There have only been a few times in his life that Jinki has actually wanted to punch Jonghyun, either for being obliviously inconsiderate or just plain stupid. This is one of them. “I don’t know,” he grits out. He rolls over. “I’m going to sleep. Good night.”
“Jinki,” Jonghyun says. It sounds like he’s laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m sorry. Honest. I’m glad it’s you. It would suck to have to sit in a car with Kibum for eighteen hours.”
“Even though he’s your best friend?” Jinki feels mollified, but barely.
“Hyung,” Jonghyun says. He isn’t even trying to hide his laughter now. “There’s a difference between best friend and longest friend.”
Jinki falls asleep while contemplating this.
He’s shaken awake what feels like seconds later, and a quick glance at the digital clock sitting on the table between his and Jonghyun’s beds tells him it’s 4:30 in the morning, and definitely not a time to be awake.
“Jonghyun,” he says, voice heavy with sleep. “What?”
“My mom sold my bass guitar,” Jonghyun says, crawling onto the bed and sitting on Jinki’s other side.
Jinki rubs his eyes and stares at the ceiling unblinkingly before turning his head to look at Jonghyun. “I know. She told me.”
“I wouldn’t run away just because she sold my guitar, though,” Jonghyun says. He reaches out and runs his fingers through Jinki’s hair, pushing it up and then smoothing it down. “I’m not that attached to it. I mean, I am, but not…that much.”
Jinki lays there, feeling even sleepier from Jonghyun’s ministrations. “Then why would you run away?”
Jonghyun is quiet for a few moments, and Jinki worries that he wasn’t supposed to ask the question, that Jonghyun wanted to tell him without being questioned.
“It’s stupid,” Jonghyun says. “No, really.”
“Stupider than when you put your Super Soaker in the oven to dry it out?”
“It would’ve worked if I hadn’t forgotten about it,” Jonghyun whines, tugging on Jinki’s hair insistently.
“Ow,” Jinki says, reaching up to loosen Jonghyun’s grip. “Normal people would have put it out in the sun.”
“Well the sun wasn’t working fast enough,” Jonghyun says. “Anyway. It was just…to get away.”
Jinki shifts closer to him and sits up against the headboard. “That isn’t stupid.”
“Running away never solves anything,” Jonghyun says, shaking his head. “And I made my mom worry and I was rude to you in the process, even though you haven’t done anything but drive all the way out here to get me.”
“Don’t start crying,” Jinki says. He’s only half kidding.
“Fuck you, hyung.” Jonghyun untangles his fingers from Jinki’s hair. “Sophie broke up with me.”
“What? Why?” Jinki looks over, and in the dark, he can just barely make out the way Jonghyun’s face closes up.
“She said I wasn’t as committed to the relationship as she is,” he says. He picks at the bedspread. “That I hadn’t put as much into it since the beginning, but that it had gotten worse since I started rooming with you.”
“We started rooming together three years ago,” Jinki says. “Why’s she saying this now?”
Jonghyun bites his bottom lip. “It’s stupid.”
“You could let me decide that,” Jinki says irritably. “Maybe it isn’t.”
“I have other reasons,” Jonghyun says softly. “This was just the biggest one.”
Jinki lets him change the topic. “What else?”
“My dad’s bitching at me about not sticking with the pre-med track.” Jonghyun looks down at his lap, tracing the pattern on the bedspread. Whatever light that is in the room plays across his face, highlighting the high sharpness of his cheekbones and the definition of his jaw. Jinki has always known and been very conscious of how good-looking Jonghyun is, but it always manages to strike him in a different way every time he notices it.
“Do what you want,” Jinki says quietly. He wants to take Jonghyun’s hand, but doesn’t.
Jonghyun sighs. “It’s so easy to say that.”
“You’d be a better teacher than a doctor,” Jinki says matter-of-factly. “I wouldn’t trust you with collecting blood samples.”
“Years of playing guitar have made me very coordinated, thank you very much,” Jonghyun says crossly. He knocks a shoulder against Jinki’s, and Jinki laughs.
“You’d be great at both,” Jinki says. “Honestly. You’d be good at whatever you do if you feel passionately about it.”
“Cheesy,” Jonghyun snorts, but he keeps his shoulder pressed to Jinki’s. They sit there in silence, and Jinki feels the drowsiness creep back over him. He rests his head on Jonghyun’s shoulder, and Jonghyun shifts into a position that feels much better for Jinki’s neck.
“Thanks,” Jinki mumbles in Jonghyun’s shirt.
“Sophie said you’re the biggest part of the problem,” Jonghyun says, voice small.
It’s getting harder and harder for Jinki to stay awake, considering how warm and solid Jonghyun is, but he tries his best. “What’d you say to her?”
A laugh rumbles through Jonghyun’s body. “I told her to fuck off.”
“That must’ve gone over well.”
“She threw your bio book at me. It didn’t hit me, though; don’t worry.”
“I was going to ask if anything happened to the book, actually. Ow,” Jinki huffs, when Jonghyun elbows him in the ribs. “Did she say anything else?”
“Just that it was over. I know what she means, though,” Jonghyun says. He drops an arm over Jinki’s shoulders.
“It’s my fault that you guys broke up?”
“That I pay more attention to you than I do to her,” Jonghyun says.
“Sorry,” Jinki says thickly.
Jonghyun rests his head on top of Jinki’s. “Go to sleep, hyung. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“I’m glad you’re not mad at me anymore, Jonghyunnie,” Jinki says.
“Me, too, hyung.”
Jinki wakes up the next morning to light streaming in through the curtains and over his face, and he blinks a couple of times, shifting around under the covers before realizing that he’s alone in the bed. Jonghyun is sitting on the couch, dozing with his head lolled back, and Jinki feels a distinct sense of loss, even though he has to get out of bed anyway.
“Jonghyun,” he says, as he swings his legs out from under the covers and gingerly puts on his shoes. “Wake up.”
“Mmph,” Jonghyun mumbles, slowly lifting his head. “Hey.”
Jinki stands and begins pulling the covers back over the bed before realizing that it isn’t necessary. He pulls his hoodie over his head instead. “You moved,” he says when he pokes his head through the neck hole.
“It got too warm,” Jonghyun says easily. He grabs his jacket and shoves his arms into the sleeves. “Are we stopping for breakfast?”
“I’m not that hungry,” Jinki says with a shrug. He walks to where his shoes are and begins putting them on. “We can drive for a bit if you want.”
Jonghyun shrugs, freezes halfway through the motion, and rubs the back of his neck. “Whatever you want.” He smiles almost sheepishly, though he really has no reason to be sheepish, as far as Jinki can tell.
“Let’s drive for a while, then,” Jinki says decisively. He pats his pockets. “Where are my keys?”
Jonghyun snorts and grabs them from the nightstand, along with Jinki’s wallet and phone. “Good thing I’m here, hyung.”
“You’re the only reason I’m here,” Jinki says. Jonghyun freezes, then smiles and hands Jinki his stuff. “Roll out,” Jinki says cheerfully.
“Don’t say that.”
Jinki lets Jonghyun push him out the door.
“I don’t like IHOP,” Jonghyun says, when Jinki points to an exit. “Let’s hold out for a Denny’s.”
“It’s already ten,” Jinki says, and his stomach growls on cue. “Your driver is hungry.”
“My driver should be able to hold out for a Denny’s,” Jonghyun says, pouting. “Otherwise I’ll fire him.”
“He’ll leave your ass on the side of the highway,” Jinki says, looking at Jonghyun warningly. Jonghyun beams and grabs Jinki’s right arm.
“Hyung,” he singsongs. “You would never.”
“I’m driving,” Jinki says. “Don’t make me crash.”
Jonghyun snickers. “Don’t blame me for your poor driving skills. Did you bring any CDs?”
Jinki points to the glove compartment, and Jonghyun roots through it happily, pulls out the large case, and begins flipping through the CDs. “Where’s that one mix.”
“Which-oh. Jonghyun, don’t play the song.”
“It’s a road trip song,” Jonghyun says. He pulls out a CD, pushes it into the CD player, and sits back happily, leg already jiggling in anticipation. “Can I turn the volume up?”
Jinki gestures helplessly, and watches as Jonghyun cranks the dial the right. Jinki braces himself.
“WHEN I WAKE UP, WELL I KNOW I’M GOING TO BE, I’M GONNA BE THE MAN WHO WAKES UP NEXT TO YOU,” The Proclaimers croon in their strange Scottish accents. Jinki frantically motions for Jonghyun to turn down the volume, because he doesn’t want to get pulled over by a cop. Jonghyun obliges with a pout.
“But I would walk 500 miles,” Jonghyun sings, rocking back and forth in his seat. “And I would walk 500 more, just to be the man who walks a thousand miles, to fall down at your door.” He presses his nose to the window, and then makes a strangled noise.
“What!” Jinki’s grip tightens on the steering wheel, and he stares at Jonghyun with alarm.
“A sign for Denny’s,” Jonghyun crows. “Take the next exit.”
“I liked you better when you weren’t talking,” Jinki says, as he flicks on the turn indicator.
Jonghyun smiles. “Too bad I know when you’re lying.”
Jonghyun joyfully gets orange juice, claiming that Denny’s orange juice is the best in the world, and peruses the menu while Jinki slowly sips his coffee.
“You get the same thing every time we’re here,” he says, checking the menu to make sure the Heartland Scramble is still there.
“Chocolate chip pancakes or French toast?” Jonghyun muses. “They have platters for both. What’d I get last time?”
“I don’t remember, but you had the same crisis,” Jinki says. He checks his phone; he doesn’t have any missed calls or texts, and then realizes that the person who phones and texts him the most is sitting across from him in the booth.
“Can you get one and I’ll get the other?” Jonghyun smiles winningly. “You like chocolate chip pancakes, don’t lie.”
Jinki considers this, then shrugs. “Fine.”
Jonghyun drums his fingers against the tabletop and sips his juice. “Do you think they have donuts here?”
“You could ask?” Jinki looks around for their waitress. “I want chocolate if we’re getting them.”
“Me, too,” Jonghyun says. “It’s nice to be on the same page.”
Jinki can’t help but smile and nod.
That Denny’s doesn’t have donuts, to Jonghyun’s chagrin, but the waitress tells them that there’s a Dunkin’ Donuts down the road if they have time for a detour. They get a half-dozen chocolate donuts, and then Jinki insists that they can’t waste any more time than they already have, because he really would like to study for his midterms. Jonghyun gets chocolate milk at the last minute, and by the time they leave the store, the owner looks like he wants to throw them out anyway.
“I can feed them to you,” Jonghyun says, as they get into the car. “Actually, do you want me to drive? Seriously, you’ve been driving this entire time and your butt must be killing you.”
“I’d be sitting even if I wasn’t driving,” Jinki says. “It’s fine. Really.”
Jonghyun looks at him dubiously. “Okay. I’ll feed you, then.”
Jinki laughs. “I can eat and drive.” He sticks the key in the ignition and starts the car. The GPS beeps to life, and Jinki buckles his seatbelt. He backs the car out of the parking spot and turns out onto the street. “Do we want east or west for the highway?”
“Ask the GPS lady,” Jonghyun says. He pokes at the display. “Your house or mine?”
“We live next door to each other. Does it make a difference?”
Jonghyun purses his lips. “Point. Your house it is.”
They realize fifteen miles down the highway that the owner gave them five donuts instead of six. Jinki and Jonghyun have already eaten two each, and the last donut sits in the bag, sadly alone. Jonghyun stares from it to Jinki, and back to the donut.
“You can have it,” he says, pushing the bag to Jinki. “I already ate two, and I had the chocolate from the pancakes, and I ate half your French toast anyway-thanks for that, by the way-so this donut clearly belongs to you.”
“We could break it in half,” Jinki says.
“Nah,” Jonghyun says. “If you don’t want it now I’ll put it away.” He rolls the top of the bag down and sets it by his feet. “No big deal.”
There’s a long stretch of silence. It’s comfortable; Jonghyun looks at the list of radio stations and flips through channels, jumping from Britney Spears to Usher and finally settling on Enrique, and Jinki watches road signs fly by. He finally looks at the bag contemplatively, and then asks, hesitantly, “What started your fight with Sophie?”
Jonghyun shifts and kicks his shoes off, crossing his legs on the seat. “You really want to know? I told you it’s stupid. The stupidest.”
“Yeah.”
“I wouldn’t give her the last glass of chocolate milk.”
Jinki stares at him in disbelief. “What?”
“The dining hall ran out of chocolate milk, and I got the very last glass, and I wouldn’t give it to her, even though she wanted it.” Jonghyun exhales. “She started bitching about how I never do stuff like that for her, but I’d give it to you if you asked, or even if you didn’t ask, because she’s always been second to you.”
Jinki frowns. “Bullshit.”
“No,” Jonghyun says quietly. “It’s true.”
Jinki stares at him, completely at a loss for words. The car swerves dangerously, and he scrambles to right it. “What?” He hates that they’re having this conversation in a car hurtling down the highway at seventy miles an hour, because it’s something that requires eye contact.
Jonghyun looks down at his lap. “Well, like.” He pauses, and when he speaks again, Jinki knows he’s choosing his words carefully. “We both like chocolate donuts, right?”
“Yeah.” Jinki isn’t sure where Jonghyun is going with this.
“But I’d always give you the last chocolate donut.” Jonghyun grabs the strings of his hoodie, wrapping them around his fingers tighter and tighter as he speaks. “And I’ve given you the last glass of chocolate milk before, and I’d give you the last piece of samgyupsal. I’d give you the last of anything, if you asked. Even if you didn’t ask.”
Jinki bites his lower lip. “Oh.”
“You’d do the same for me,” Jonghyun says confidently. He unwinds his left hand from his hoodie strings, and it hovers between them, before he reaches out and takes Jinki’s hand from his lap.
“Yeah,” Jinki says, and it’s so easy to say this and it’s almost surprising. “I would.”
Jonghyun squeezes his hand and simply smiles.
They’re fifty miles outside of Boston when Jonghyun makes Jinki switch with him.
“Sleep,” he commands, though there’s no edge to it. He shoves Jinki into the passenger seat, then rushes around to the driver’s seat and throws himself in before Jinki can protest. “You look tired,” Jonghyun says, brushing Jinki’s hair off his face. The motion is the same, but the connotation is completely different, and Jinki can finally lean into the touch without feeling awkward about it.
“I’m not tired,” Jinki says. He watches as Jonghyun adjusts the mirrors, then pulls out of the rest stop and back onto the highway. “I did it for you,” Jinki says. He can feel his eyelids drooping.
“Did what for me,” Jonghyun says. He takes Jinki’s hand again. Jonghyun has always been clingy: holding hands, wrapping his arm around his girlfriends’ shoulders, pulling them into hugs whenever he felt the urge too. Right now, Jonghyun draws his thumb back and forth over Jinki’s knuckles, and it makes Jinki even sleepier.
“I came to get you for you,” Jinki says. “I would have done it even if your mom hadn’t asked.”
“I know.”
“Good.” Jinki gently shakes his hand free from Jonghyun’s, and bends down to get the last donut. He pulls it out, and looks over at Jonghyun. “Want half?”
Jonghyun smiles, eyes impossibly fond as they crinkle at the corners. “Yeah. Sure.”
Poll Round 15: I Would Walk 500 Miles