when the clock strikes twelve
this was... a writing for the sake of writing kind of thing. D:
when the clock strikes twelve
minho/onew, g, 932 words
---
1
Kisses in the dark spots of the hallways are nothing new.
It'll be a routine trip to the kitchen, across the floorboards. Just ten steps to get there. Some nights Jinki sleeps and some nights he will meet him half way, awake from hours spent staring into the night. There is always this awkward sliding into place before they can remember the places where they fit each other, Jinki's hand on the indent of Minho's hips while he traces the curve of his jaw, and like this it will be okay, sharp intakes of breath in between coming up for air and clumsy scrambling at the sound of someone waking.
This is the way they work.
2
There's no room in the car to be facetious today.
A succession of yawns come, from Kibum and then Jinki and then the driver, who covers his mouth with his hand. When they were strangers Jonghyun and Kibum would exchange jokes above Jinki's lap, and Jinki would interrupt, unwanted, at intervals, and somehow it would evolve and Taemin and Minho would get caught into it without ever really meaning to, and it would end in an explosion of laughter. Sometimes, being in transit is still like this. But now they've all calmed, a kind of mutual agreement for repose. Taemin is already asleep, his head straight back against the upholstery. The next turn will make him slide into Minho's shoulder, where he'll stay for the rest of the ride.
Jinki's eyes are half way closed, looking out the window. He's plugged into his iPod with the volume up to full, but Minho knows he's not a temperamental person: easy to disrupt. Easy for late night encounters, meetings. Confessions.
He's not even sure why he's having so much trouble.
3
Someone's stolen the photos above Kibum's bed. He raids the dorm while the manager hyungs are locked in their rooms, turning a blind eye.
'Yah! Who took them? Someone better own up or you're all going to die.'
His screech can be heard all the way to the bedroom, where Minho is trying out reading in the dark for the first time. He can just make out the Hangul with the lights off.
The commotion tabulates a Jonghyun who has to be hit a few times before he's willing to point fingers at the culprit. It's a surprising turn of events-- Jinki has all the photos nicely folded in his back pocket, and Minho would never have suspected he had a devious bone in his body. He knows where the photos are because Jinki rushes into the bedroom and takes them out, dangling them in the air while Kibum is still in the lounge. His eyes are bright and he smiles wide, and Minho wonders why he had so much trouble reading in here in the first place.
'You'll keep them somewhere safe, right?' he says, grinning. 'Jonghyun can't last much longer. I'm thinking pretty soon he's going to rat me out.'
Minho laughs, his finger between the pages as he closes his book. 'Okay. But if I get abuse you're going to owe me.'
Jinki gives him the photos. Their hands touch at the fingertips and then his smile cracks, but it's just for a second.
4
There is something inherently human about the way Jinki sings. The way it's sweet and smooth and you forget he's someone you know until his voice breaks a little going up, the most honest sharps and flats you've ever heard.
'I'll tell you a secret,' he says to him one day. 'Half the time I don't really feel it. I'm singing and it's just a pop song, you know? About really simple fundamental stuff I don't really know about yet. Love, and stuff. I feel pretty stupid half the time.'
He waits for an answer, but when the night gets like this seconds can drag into hours. Minho doesn't say anything because he can't, so Jinki smiles and closes the bathroom door behind him.
5
It starts with Minho waking up to go get a glass of water. This is them meeting in the kitchen, and Minho wasn't really thirsty, but how they come together and the way his tongue is eager, beseeching, no one ever would have known.
Jinki pulls back first and usually he will smile, but today there's something different about the ends of his mouth, the way his bones shift underneath his skin. Minho suddenly feels distant, like his body is moving too fast and his head can't keep up. He grabs his wrists without meaning to.
Jinki's voice hangs like cobwebs in the air.
'So how-- what's going to happen to us, do you think? After a while.'
Minho knows what he means. Of course he knows. It's the saddest thing in the world.
Like this the spell gets broken. The hallway during the night time is for playing pretend, confessions tucked away into the pads of his thumbs as he runs them over Jinki's cheeks and hopes he'll understand. Minho tries to rebuild and he'll tell himself that it's because he doesn't know any better. Because he can. It's kind of self-destructive, but Minho's tired of not being selfish.
He grins, big and toothy.
'I kiss you, there, and then there. And then here.' His smile falters a little, but his fingers continue, pointing like directors before landing on Jinki's lips.
The way he laughs he can tell that he's tired, but he says 'Alright' anyway, juts his head a little forward. 'So kiss me then!'
Minho nods, like Haha, okay.
when the clock strikes twelve
minho/onew, g, 932 words
---
1
Kisses in the dark spots of the hallways are nothing new.
It'll be a routine trip to the kitchen, across the floorboards. Just ten steps to get there. Some nights Jinki sleeps and some nights he will meet him half way, awake from hours spent staring into the night. There is always this awkward sliding into place before they can remember the places where they fit each other, Jinki's hand on the indent of Minho's hips while he traces the curve of his jaw, and like this it will be okay, sharp intakes of breath in between coming up for air and clumsy scrambling at the sound of someone waking.
This is the way they work.
2
There's no room in the car to be facetious today.
A succession of yawns come, from Kibum and then Jinki and then the driver, who covers his mouth with his hand. When they were strangers Jonghyun and Kibum would exchange jokes above Jinki's lap, and Jinki would interrupt, unwanted, at intervals, and somehow it would evolve and Taemin and Minho would get caught into it without ever really meaning to, and it would end in an explosion of laughter. Sometimes, being in transit is still like this. But now they've all calmed, a kind of mutual agreement for repose. Taemin is already asleep, his head straight back against the upholstery. The next turn will make him slide into Minho's shoulder, where he'll stay for the rest of the ride.
Jinki's eyes are half way closed, looking out the window. He's plugged into his iPod with the volume up to full, but Minho knows he's not a temperamental person: easy to disrupt. Easy for late night encounters, meetings. Confessions.
He's not even sure why he's having so much trouble.
3
Someone's stolen the photos above Kibum's bed. He raids the dorm while the manager hyungs are locked in their rooms, turning a blind eye.
'Yah! Who took them? Someone better own up or you're all going to die.'
His screech can be heard all the way to the bedroom, where Minho is trying out reading in the dark for the first time. He can just make out the Hangul with the lights off.
The commotion tabulates a Jonghyun who has to be hit a few times before he's willing to point fingers at the culprit. It's a surprising turn of events-- Jinki has all the photos nicely folded in his back pocket, and Minho would never have suspected he had a devious bone in his body. He knows where the photos are because Jinki rushes into the bedroom and takes them out, dangling them in the air while Kibum is still in the lounge. His eyes are bright and he smiles wide, and Minho wonders why he had so much trouble reading in here in the first place.
'You'll keep them somewhere safe, right?' he says, grinning. 'Jonghyun can't last much longer. I'm thinking pretty soon he's going to rat me out.'
Minho laughs, his finger between the pages as he closes his book. 'Okay. But if I get abuse you're going to owe me.'
Jinki gives him the photos. Their hands touch at the fingertips and then his smile cracks, but it's just for a second.
4
There is something inherently human about the way Jinki sings. The way it's sweet and smooth and you forget he's someone you know until his voice breaks a little going up, the most honest sharps and flats you've ever heard.
'I'll tell you a secret,' he says to him one day. 'Half the time I don't really feel it. I'm singing and it's just a pop song, you know? About really simple fundamental stuff I don't really know about yet. Love, and stuff. I feel pretty stupid half the time.'
He waits for an answer, but when the night gets like this seconds can drag into hours. Minho doesn't say anything because he can't, so Jinki smiles and closes the bathroom door behind him.
5
It starts with Minho waking up to go get a glass of water. This is them meeting in the kitchen, and Minho wasn't really thirsty, but how they come together and the way his tongue is eager, beseeching, no one ever would have known.
Jinki pulls back first and usually he will smile, but today there's something different about the ends of his mouth, the way his bones shift underneath his skin. Minho suddenly feels distant, like his body is moving too fast and his head can't keep up. He grabs his wrists without meaning to.
Jinki's voice hangs like cobwebs in the air.
'So how-- what's going to happen to us, do you think? After a while.'
Minho knows what he means. Of course he knows. It's the saddest thing in the world.
Like this the spell gets broken. The hallway during the night time is for playing pretend, confessions tucked away into the pads of his thumbs as he runs them over Jinki's cheeks and hopes he'll understand. Minho tries to rebuild and he'll tell himself that it's because he doesn't know any better. Because he can. It's kind of self-destructive, but Minho's tired of not being selfish.
He grins, big and toothy.
'I kiss you, there, and then there. And then here.' His smile falters a little, but his fingers continue, pointing like directors before landing on Jinki's lips.
The way he laughs he can tell that he's tired, but he says 'Alright' anyway, juts his head a little forward. 'So kiss me then!'
Minho nods, like Haha, okay.