that supermarket fic
.fuji apples, jelly rolls and a sleepy cashier girl
.Yoomin, Fluff
he opens his eyes and starts walking down the linoleum floor. praying
A/N.this is for mangobeast's birthday and as usual, it's late. so sorry for this, and i hope you DO like this. but if you don't, don't push yourself okay. :D it's kind of short and features weird habits which clearly a last-minute attempt to make a decent plot by taking a real-life habit from yourself. :D enjoy.
The wide expanse of endless white shelves stretch far beyond his sights, leaving his hands trembling slightly. He clutches the handle tighter, fearing it might go out of his control and run amok out of his hold. He closes his eyes, lips trembling, eyelids shiver for a miniscule, and takes a deep breath. He opens his eyes and starts walking down the linoleum floors.
Praying in his heart that he did not end up buying twice the stuff they needed.
///
Yoochun is a sucker for grocery shopping. He admits that it takes his mind off more than normal clothing shopping, or even lashing out on the poor bars of the piano. So far he has yet to find any manner of relations between broccolis and chips with singing, dancing, and Micky Yoochun and that suits him more than fine.
“Fruits, huh.” He mumbles.
The day is barely 3AM and 24-hours supermarket is getting commonplace, time is in his hands and he intends to fully abuse it by thoroughly checking each and every stall he sees and rechecking stalls he like. He shivers, for the mere thought of it almost makes him get an instant orgasm. Fuji apples, Fuji apples, he chants to clear his head.
///
The sun is in the shape of faint streaks of deep crimson in the darkness, outlining buildings and towers and other man-made marvels that lords in height over their creators when sleep left him. Changmin sits up in his bed, slowly stretching stiff joints and tendons. He hates it when his bed feels cold in the morning and there’s only one person to blame for that.
Him and his addiction to grocery-shopping.
///
As aimless as Yoochun would like to be in his shopping, Jaejoong had managed to slip him a list the night before and he would rather see his neck intact when he gets home, therefore he has to buy some actual necessities. He hates it, but when Jaejoong orders you to do something, you'd better do it bitch or else he’ll cut you, soulmate or not.
He delves his fingers deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans (dawn is still the coldest time of the day and Yoochun is not that stupid enough to get frostbite) and pulls out a folded rectangular note.
Milk, milk, milk.
Jaejoong sure bathes in them, he curses. And then some other inane objects until he find one that’s written in red spidol and circled in blue. Yoochun chuckles, as if saying how could I ever forget.
///
Scratching his belly absently, he walks to the kitchen and ponders on banging the pans to wake everyone up and have breakfast early. And then he remembers that he has one last jelly roll in the fridge to eat.
He opens the fridge and takes the thing out, flopping down to the chair. Tearing the packaging apart, he bites into the pastry and groans softly in delight.
///
His trolley is almost filled to the brim, of ramen cups and new chopsticks and Jaejoong’s milks and some other things he grabs on whim just because he can. He walks to an empty cashier, a girl with a pigtail and fringe just above the eyebrows, and smiles.
The girl covers her yawn with the back of her hand and sleepily smiles back. “Hello, you’re even earlier than the ahjummas.” She chats, and Yoochun just chuckles. “It’s refreshing to see someone this early without any hair rollers or house slippers on.”
Now that comment was just too good to pass and Yoochun laughs right on cue. It’s light and warm and blitzes the girl awake instantly as it rings and echoes for a second in the large, white, bright 24-hours supermarket cashier area.
///
Changmin feels jealousy spring instantly in his heart, like a short twig stabbing right into a clump of bloodied nerves.
///
Yoochun is in the bakery a few blocks from their apartment, sipping his regular black coffee while waiting for his order of pastries to be finished packed up when his cell phone makes its first activity in the morning. His bony cheeks lights up with a soft smile when he reads the text, feeling like having sugar running up and down his veins.
Jelly roll finished, going back bed. Come soon. Or else.
He pays up in the cashier, saying thank you with a bigger smile than normal, and takes the two bags of pastries to his car. He puts one bag in the passenger seat carefully and neatly, because Changmin hates cakes with messed up icings.
Your wish is my command, birthday boy.
so i guess, this would be orangesalad's last fic, huh?
.Yoomin, Fluff
he opens his eyes and starts walking down the linoleum floor. praying
A/N.this is for mangobeast's birthday and as usual, it's late. so sorry for this, and i hope you DO like this. but if you don't, don't push yourself okay. :D it's kind of short and features weird habits which clearly a last-minute attempt to make a decent plot by taking a real-life habit from yourself. :D enjoy.
The wide expanse of endless white shelves stretch far beyond his sights, leaving his hands trembling slightly. He clutches the handle tighter, fearing it might go out of his control and run amok out of his hold. He closes his eyes, lips trembling, eyelids shiver for a miniscule, and takes a deep breath. He opens his eyes and starts walking down the linoleum floors.
Praying in his heart that he did not end up buying twice the stuff they needed.
///
Yoochun is a sucker for grocery shopping. He admits that it takes his mind off more than normal clothing shopping, or even lashing out on the poor bars of the piano. So far he has yet to find any manner of relations between broccolis and chips with singing, dancing, and Micky Yoochun and that suits him more than fine.
“Fruits, huh.” He mumbles.
The day is barely 3AM and 24-hours supermarket is getting commonplace, time is in his hands and he intends to fully abuse it by thoroughly checking each and every stall he sees and rechecking stalls he like. He shivers, for the mere thought of it almost makes him get an instant orgasm. Fuji apples, Fuji apples, he chants to clear his head.
///
The sun is in the shape of faint streaks of deep crimson in the darkness, outlining buildings and towers and other man-made marvels that lords in height over their creators when sleep left him. Changmin sits up in his bed, slowly stretching stiff joints and tendons. He hates it when his bed feels cold in the morning and there’s only one person to blame for that.
Him and his addiction to grocery-shopping.
///
As aimless as Yoochun would like to be in his shopping, Jaejoong had managed to slip him a list the night before and he would rather see his neck intact when he gets home, therefore he has to buy some actual necessities. He hates it, but when Jaejoong orders you to do something, you'd better do it bitch or else he’ll cut you, soulmate or not.
He delves his fingers deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans (dawn is still the coldest time of the day and Yoochun is not that stupid enough to get frostbite) and pulls out a folded rectangular note.
Milk, milk, milk.
Jaejoong sure bathes in them, he curses. And then some other inane objects until he find one that’s written in red spidol and circled in blue. Yoochun chuckles, as if saying how could I ever forget.
///
Scratching his belly absently, he walks to the kitchen and ponders on banging the pans to wake everyone up and have breakfast early. And then he remembers that he has one last jelly roll in the fridge to eat.
He opens the fridge and takes the thing out, flopping down to the chair. Tearing the packaging apart, he bites into the pastry and groans softly in delight.
///
His trolley is almost filled to the brim, of ramen cups and new chopsticks and Jaejoong’s milks and some other things he grabs on whim just because he can. He walks to an empty cashier, a girl with a pigtail and fringe just above the eyebrows, and smiles.
The girl covers her yawn with the back of her hand and sleepily smiles back. “Hello, you’re even earlier than the ahjummas.” She chats, and Yoochun just chuckles. “It’s refreshing to see someone this early without any hair rollers or house slippers on.”
Now that comment was just too good to pass and Yoochun laughs right on cue. It’s light and warm and blitzes the girl awake instantly as it rings and echoes for a second in the large, white, bright 24-hours supermarket cashier area.
///
Changmin feels jealousy spring instantly in his heart, like a short twig stabbing right into a clump of bloodied nerves.
///
Yoochun is in the bakery a few blocks from their apartment, sipping his regular black coffee while waiting for his order of pastries to be finished packed up when his cell phone makes its first activity in the morning. His bony cheeks lights up with a soft smile when he reads the text, feeling like having sugar running up and down his veins.
Jelly roll finished, going back bed. Come soon. Or else.
He pays up in the cashier, saying thank you with a bigger smile than normal, and takes the two bags of pastries to his car. He puts one bag in the passenger seat carefully and neatly, because Changmin hates cakes with messed up icings.
Your wish is my command, birthday boy.
so i guess, this would be orangesalad's last fic, huh?