Coffee Bastard, Part 8
Title: Coffee Bastard: Changtique Shoppe, The Sequel
Pairings/Characters: Yoochun/Junsu, Jaejoong/Changmin, Heechul/Yunho
Rating/Warnings: T for language and (eventual) making out
Disclaimer: I own nothing; written just for fun
Summary: No turtles were harmed in the making of this chapter.
A/N: I unfortunately cannot take credit for inventing the woothie. I heard about them from a friend and I think she heard about them from someone else, but I'm sure you can find a nice recipe online ;)
Coffee Bastard, Part 8
After Hyukjae, Donghae, and several of his other so-called "friends" turned down Junsu’s invitations to join him at Jongwoon’s spaghetti party Junsu was feeling disgruntled and not just a little neglected until he suddenly had a stroke of inspiration to ask Yoochun while he was waiting for said person in the park the next Wednesday after an early soccer practice.
They hadn't mentioned a time when they had agreed to meet up again by the vending machine but Junsu figured it couldn't hurt to show up early so he headed right over to the park after helping Hyukjae lock up the supplies in the gym. He jogged around the rusting jungle gym with a big grin on his lips, ready to greet Yoochun with a loud whoop.
The shout died in his throat when the bench came into sight, empty and rather forlorn. Junsu sank onto the bench and waited with his soccer ball perched on his knees, thinking of spaghetti and parties and Yoochun’s smug little grin all smeared with Jongwoon’s delicious marinara sauce. Parties were fun, especially if you invited cool people to them. It was completely his friends’ loss that they had turned down the opportunity for free food prepared by a professional chef. Junsu smiled to himself and enjoyed the peaceful view while he waited, distracted for a while by a flock of sparrows pecking in the stiff grass by the swingset.
Yoochun was late, though, and as late afternoon slipped into evening Junsu started to shiver in the stretching shadows and the rising breeze. He texted Hyukjae for a few minutes to keep his numbing fingers moving but by the time the street lamps switched on he had to admit to himself that Yoochun wasn’t coming. Maybe he had forgotten. Darn. It was a little hard to invite someone to a party if you never saw them again. Maybe he should ask Sehun and Zitao for some lessons on telepathy, he thought with a wry smile, although Junsu wasn’t sure if that worked across long distances. He didn’t even know what part of the city Yoochun lived in. Darn.
Junsu staggered to his feet from the corner of the sagging bench, waved a reluctant goodbye to the rusty vending machine, and kicked his ball to the street corner. On the subway home he texted Jaejoong.
Of course, Junsu could have just asked Jaejoong for Yoochun’s number. He did think of that possibility, but hesitated at the thought of Jaejoong asking too many questions. Jaejoong always asked too many questions exactly when Junsu didn’t have the patience for an interrogation. And then, of course, his brain just had to take off on a downward spiral of potential disastrous scenarios from there. What if Yoochun agreed to come but thought the boss was weird? What if Krystal got drunk on the wine and tried to flirt with Yoochun?
Junsu cringed at the painful mental images and hastily texted Jaejoong an invitation instead. Jaejoong immediately accepted with an emoticon of a drooling dog. Even if he was an excellent cook himself, Jaejoong was not one to turn down offers of free food. (At least when he was between diets.)
Once he had confirmed the date with his escort Junsu settled back against his cushy seat in the crowded train car. He felt relieved having settled on bringing Jaejoong instead. Jaejoong could handle weird. Jaejoong was weird. That was one of the best things about him, in Junsu’s opinion, that and his kimchi jjigae.
And good thing too, because the weird started the minute they walked into Fluffiore's on Saturday night. Jaejoong let the door to the restaurant lobby fall shut in Junsu’s face, walking past the group gathered by the register and making straight for the large glass tank newly installed on a paint splattered card table next to it. The recent addition wasn’t that hard to miss, being the only part of the room devoid of floral accessories, although give it another week and Junsu wouldn’t be surprised to find it randomly wreathed in flowers.
“Couldn’t you just be normal and get, like, I don’t know, a tank of lobsters or something.” Jaejoong leaned forward to tap on the glass. Jongwoon stared back at him in horror.
“But restaurants only have a tank of lobsters if they’re going to be eaten!”
“I know,” Jaejoong sniffed coolly. “So why do you have animals of the non-edible variety on display.”
“I don’t know, Jae, they look pretty edible to me,” Junsu snickered, playing right along. He closed the door at the top of the stairs and crossed the floor to peer over Jaejoong’s shoulder on tiptoe. “Don’t they look plump and juicy?”
“Ooh! You’re right, Su, especially that red one! I make a mean turtle soup.” Jaejoong narrowed his eyes at Jongwoon’s pet turtles and bared his teeth hungrily.
“No one’s eating any turtles on these premises!” Jongwoon shouted, shouldering between Jaejoong and the glass tank with arms outstretched. “They’re our mascots! Our good luck charms!”
“I’m pretty sure turtles are bad luck in ancient Chines--I mean Italian, ancient Italian culture. Isn’t that right, Junsu-yah,” Jaejoong drawled as he edged closer to Jongwoon's flailing arms.
“Oh absolutely. Very deep, very nasty bad luck!” Junsu agreed, fighting to keep a straight face.
“Oh my god, guys! There is no such thing as “ancient Italian culture!”” They all turned to stare at Krystal who was, as usual, scowling disdainfully. “Did you mean ancient Tuscan culture, by any chance?”
“Tuscan? As in Tuscan chicken?” Jaejoong asked, perking up.
“I think you mean Tuscan turtle!” Junsu giggled, patting Jaejoong on the shoulder.
“Do you have an unemployment wish, Kim Junsu?!” Jongwoon was blinking very rapidly, his small hands balled into smaller fists.
“So, are we waiting for anyone else?” Junsu turned his head to see a girl with short dark hair hop down from the register counter and bump her hip into Krystal’s. He hadn't noticed her before and she didn't look familiar.
“Nope, Shindong-hyung can’t make it, so I think this is it!” Junsu called over Jaejoong and Jongwoon’s game of shadow dodging in front of the turtles.
“Finally.” Krystal flicked a finger across her phone screen and looked up. “Let’s get going then.”
“Goodbye, you little cuties!” Jongwoon tickled his babies under the chin with a gentle finger before shooing everyone towards the door. Jongwoon snickered when a wayward tumble of morning glories caught in Jaejoong's hair, one turquoise silk bell popping off its vine to lodge above his ear. Jaejoong just smiled and hula-ed down the stairs until they reached the sidewalk.
Jongwoon’s apartment was not too far from the restaurant but since it was situated in a dark alley of the sort that, according to Jongwoon, dubious characters tended to lurk down and visitors often got lost in, it was just easier to meet up at Fluffiore’s and then walk over. Especially since there were new guests along. Jongwoon led the way with Krsytal close on his heels, Jaejoong dragging his feet at the back of the group.
“So, Krystal, are you gonna introduce your friend?” Junsu poked the junior waitress’ shoulder but she just shrugged him off, tracing her way around her phone screen with the edge of a pink fingernail, probably playing some dumb game again that involved cake or bunnies.
“Hey guys, my name’s Amber,” Krystal’s friend lifted a mittened hand in greeting.
“Hi, Amber!” Jaejoong waved his whole arm, the one that was not wrapped around Junsu’s neck. “How do you know this crowd?” He waved his arm again in a circle as if he were best friends with everyone in the little group. Well, Junsu guessed he was, kind of. Jaejoong frequented the restaurant often enough to be on friendly terms with the boss and even joined their after work hangouts on occasion.
“Oh, I’m Krystal’s roommate.” Amber knocked a gentle fist to Krystal’s bony shoulder.
“Ex-roommate,” Krystal snapped, wriggling in her oversized tan overcoat.
“Oooooh!” Jaejoong’s voice undulated obnoxiously. “Are you guys--! Because you--!” A loud laugh from Amber and a sharp gasp from Krystal made Jaejoong break off into his own amused laughter. Junsu turned his head so it wasn’t directed straight at his ear. Jaejoong’s laugh was almost as painfully loud as his own.
“For your information, my moving out had to do with differences in living habits, nothing illicit!” Amber’s eyes sparkled under the band of her backwards baseball cap.
“Oh no, I’m pretty sure the dirty laundry you left lying around was nothing short of illicit.” Krystal adjusted equally oversized sunglasses on the bridge of her nose. Junsu rolled his eyes. It was after 6:00 PM and the street lights had already turned on.
“Well, there you have it!” Amber grinned, blushing a little.
“Well, here we are! This is my street.” Jongwoon dashed a few paces ahead of everyone to gesture grandly at the entrance to a narrow side street. “And that,” he pointed a few yards ahead, waiting for everyone to follow his gesture, “is my building.”
“Wait--this place was supposed to be hard to find?” Junsu giggled as Amber stopped short with her hands of her hips, staring around at the average looking residential street with average looking apartment complexes surrounded by average looking street lamps and parking lots and trees between the strips of sidewalk.
“Um, well, all the buildings around here look similar. It’s confusing.” Jongwoon waved both his arms as if he could make a snow angel standing up if he just thought about precipitation and frigid temperatures hard enough.
"That's why they invented street numbers," Amber pointed out, waving at the the lettering painted in think black lines onto the the side of the building, Sweet Orchard Apartments 115.
“I’m sure the boss just wanted to show off his turtles,” Krystal drawled, hooking an index finger over the ear piece of her sunglasses. “Too bad for him Jaejoong ssi can only appreciate them in an edible sense.”
“Hey! Don’t talk about me like that, I’m standing right here.” Jongwoon craned his neck forward, ostensibly in an attempt to stare down Krystal’s subordination, although she was generally immune to his icy stares in general and Junsu wasn’t even sure she could see him right now through her shades in the dark.
“Let’s go inside! I’m hungry! Are you hungry, Amber ssi?”
“Don’t bother with formalities!” Amber said with another laugh, waving her hand in front of her face before reaching up adjust her cap. “And yes! I am starving!”
“Meeee toooo!” Jaejoong whined in Junsu’s ear. Junsu pinched his leg through his unseasonably fashionable crepe silk slacks.
“Spaghettiiiiiii!” Junsu led the charge up the front steps, not stopping til he got all the way to the lobby elevator when an old woman with a lap dog in a baby stroller conveniently exited the building just as he was approaching the glass front doors. Jaejoong stumbled to a halt behind him, arm still hooked over Junsu’s shoulders.
“Hey, I know this place!” Jaejoong blew a few wayward strands of his bleached fringe out of his eyes, turning his head to look around the lobby. Junsu punched the up arrow. “This is where--oof!” They both careened forward just as the elevators doors were sliding open with the force something slamming into them from behind.
“Sorry!” Jongwoon snickered as he pulled away, frantically pulsing the close doors button with his right fist, Krystal’s sunglasses held aloft in the other.
“Hey, you give those back right now, Boss! Or I’ll streak the silverware for a week!” The elevator doors eased back open to allow the girls access and Amber snatched the shades away from Jongwoon. Krystal shoved them back on with an unimpressed sneer at the rest of them as Junsu pressed the button for the sixth floor.
“You know, we’re inside now,” Amber smirked as the lift started to move. Krystal didn’t reply and Junsu didn’t even bother to muffle his chortle when she tripped on her way out into the hall.
Jaejoong patted her hand with a sympathetic smile. He knew how hard it was, after all, for your fashion expressions to clash with your environment. As he often sighed to Junsu, it was hard, being unique, or something like that.
Jongwoon opened the door marked 623 and ushered his guests inside, collecting everyone’s coats and winter accessories to stash in the spare bedroom.
“Something smells delicious!” Jaejoong strained on tiptoe to sniff at the air. It did smell good, the pungent odors of stewed kimchi and ripened cheese softened with an undertone of something sweet.
“Why don’t you all have a seat!” Jongwoon reappeared with a folder and an empty olive jar of full of writing utensils. “Welcome to the 2014 New Fusion Menu Taste Testing Event! Please take one and pass.” He fluttered a stack of papers pulled from the folder at Junsu. Junsu peeled the first page off the stack and plopped onto the floor beside the coffee table.
“What is this, Boss?” He scanned the page as he waited for Jaejoong to take the stack.
“This is the official commenting form!"
“Seriously? You’re trying to make us work at a party?” Krystal scoffed as she passed a page to Amber.
“Come on, Krystal, it’s not gonna hurt you to circle a few little bubbles in between courses!” Jongwoon pouted, lowering his head reproachfully. Junsu giggled, because he looked like a turtle.
“In that case, I’ll allow you to do my circling for me. I’m sure you’ll be able to tell my ratings from my exquisite facial expressions. This one means gag,” Krystal paused to make a grimace that would have made the Grinch proud, “and this one means--”
“Take a pen, Jaejoong!” Jongwoon rattled the jar in front of Jaejoong who had slumped to the floor to lean against Junsu’s side.
“These are kind of boring…” Jaejoong sifted through the options but didn’t make a selection. “Can I have a glitter pen?”
“But the survey's supposed to be anonymous,” Jongwoon insisted.
“As if you couldn’t already tell from my excellent handwriting and Junsu’s chicken scratch whose is whose.” Jaejoong puffed out his lower lip and plucked the shiniest pen from the jar. Jongwoon rolled his eyes and finished passing out the surveys.
“Now, I’m going to bring out the dishes one at a time. Water and cider will be provided as palate cleansers between courses. If you decide to make use of the optional comments sections, please refer to dishes by their designated code numbers and not the ingredients. Everyone with me?”
“Yes!” Jongwoon smiled pleasantly at the chorus of eager voices.
“Oh, question, Jaejoong?”
“Does this taste test include alcohol?” Jaejoong waved his paper in the air. Krystal sank onto the sofa with a sigh.
“Yes, that will be the final portion of the survey,” Jongwoon nodded, clasping his hands at his waist.
“You’re the best, Boss!” Jongwoon grinned at Jaejoong’s hand heart.
“Now, if I could request the assistance of the dashing head waiter…!” Amber giggled at Jongwoon’s dramatic flourish in the direction of the kitchen as Junsu hopped to his feet. Krystal shot out a hand to yank her down onto the sofa by the wrist as Junsu waved goodbye.
The whole kitchen was set up in neat stations delineated with colored ribbon borders and marked with carefully numbered signs.
“Dang, Boss! This is just like a TV show!” Junsu ran a finger along a strip of red ribbon admiringly.
“I know!” Jongwoon simpered through his eyelashes, shoving a tray with the first set of dishes at Junsu. Junsu followed him back to the living room, sniffing at the covered plates on the tray. He carefully arranged one dish in front of each survey respondent, starting with Amber on the left, before sitting back down next to Jaejoong and pulling off the paper cover of his own plate to reveal a swirl of angel hair in a thick, red sauce. This had to be the ddeokbokketti. He lifted a forkful to his mouth as Jaejoong sunk his teeth into a mass of noodles dripping with the rich sauce.
“Mmm!” Jongwoon bit back a nervous smile at the mostly appreciative hums of consensus and tugged at the hem of his black pullover as his gaze flicked back and forth between his busily chewing guests. Amber gave a thumbs up before shoving in another mouthful. Krystal’s face was carefully neutral but even she deigned to take a second tiny bite before Jongwoon stacked up the plates and whisked them back to the kitchen, motioning for Junsu to stay put and focus on the evaluation form.
Junsu circled a 7 out of 10 and glanced over to the others. Amber was chewing on her pen lid. Jaejoong was hunched over the table, jealously guarding his paper from wandering eyes as he furiously scribbled what was turning into a short essay in the margins. Krystal was resting primly with her hands folded on the knees of her expensive looking jeans but Junsu saw with a side glance that she had selected the 5 in the first row with a perfectly formed circle. Jongwoon reappeared with the second tray and Junsu glanced back to his own page, adding a little sweet but not bad!! to the comments section before jumping up to help Jongwoon distribute the next round.
Five courses later (two more versions of the ddeokbokketti and three variations on a kimchi vinaigrette salad), Jaejoong was humming lazily to himself with a hand fisted in Junsu’s hair. Junsu yawned, quite full of pasta and comfortably warm.
“Are you guys ready for dessert?” Jongwoon was laying on the floor in front of the coffee table, chin propped up on a silver lamé throw cushion. Too bad the boss didn’t know Jaejoong back when he was trying to coordinate his living room accents, Junsu thought with a snicker.
“Do you have calorie counts available?” Krystal raised her hand. Jongwoon blinked.
“Does alcohol have calories?”
“Noooo! Alcohol does not!” Jaejoong called definitively. Amber giggled into her cup of water.
“Well I’m going to go make the woothies now.” Jongwoon pointed to the kitchen and scooted forward on his stomach with the help of the cushion.
“The what?”
“Woothies, Krystal. Like smoothies but better, because they have wine.” Jongwoon slowly pushed himself up to his feet.
“How is that even fusion,” Krystal deadpanned, twisting a sticky fork in her fingers.
“Like, soju + maekju = somaek,” Jongwoon explained in a slow, careful voice.
“And chicken + maekju = chimaek!” Junsu added in solidarity.
“Ooh! Are we telling math jokes," Jaejoong piped up. "y = 2x + --!”
“Raise your hand if you want a woothie!” Jongwoon said quickly, cutting Jaejoong’s example short. Everyone raised their hand except Junsu.
“You want anything, Junsu?” Jongwoon asked, hesitating in the doorway.
“I’ll stick with a milkshake, thanks.” Junsu yawned. “Do you want any help, boss?”
“I’m good!” Jongwoon shuffled out of the room.
“So, we’ve been here for like, hours, and I still barely know your names.” Amber smiled as the other three turned to look at her.
“What do you wanna know?” Jaejoong drawled out the side of his mouth, probably fighting back a yawn himself. He tended to get sleepy after eating although the alcohol should fix that shortly, Junsu figured.
“Well, where are you guys from? What do you do when you're not working or eating at Fluffiore’s?”
“I’m a world famous interior designer,” Jaejoong yawned behind his hand. Amber nodded, eyebrows lifting.
“I love soccer!” Junsu volunteered. “And dancing.”
“Oh yeah?” Amber cracked a smile, shifting on the couch to face the doorway as the blender kicked on.
“Yeah! I’m from around here, and Jae-hyung’s from--”
“Obviously I’m too cool and metropolitan to come from anywhere other than Seoul,” Jaejoong blinked innocently at the girls as he stabbed Junsu in the gut with the handle of his teaspoon. “Just ignore him.” He patted the side of Junsu’s face with cold fingers and turned to wave at Jongwoon who was returning with four fluted glasses on his tray.
“Well that was fast!” Amber accepted a glass from Jongwoon and held it up to the light. The thick liquid had a nice rosy glow.
“I’ve been working on streamlining some processes!” Jongwoon said proudly, setting the last glass down in front of Jaejoong and heading for the kitchen again. “Be right back with your milkshake, Su!”
“Ah, woothies!” Jaejoong sighed, stroking the side of his frosted glass. Junsu rolled his eyes with a grin.
“Where are you from, Amber?” He leaned an elbow onto the table, careful not to jostle Jaejoong with his restless feet. He didn't particularly care to smell like woothie for the remainder of the evening.
“She’s American! Krystal met her in America because they both speak American!” Jongwoon announced, a tall black glass with a flexi straw peeking over the rim in hand.
“Oooh! I have a friend who speaks American!” Jaejoong twisted to face Amber as Jongwoon handed the glass off to Junsu. “My best friend Yoochun! He lived in America too.”
“English,” Krystal mumbled around a teaspoonful of woothie. “And how did you know where she's from, Boss!”
“Hmm?” Junsu hummed around his straw.
“It’s called English, not American,” Krystal repeated firmly, taking the spoon out of her mouth.
“Oh no!” Jaejoong sat up, wide-eyed. “Yoochunnie most definitely speaks American.”
“If anyone wants to try some double fusion wooju, feel free to add a shot or two of this!” Jongwoon held up a green bottle with a curling smile, already twisting off the cap.
“Ooh! Pick me!” Jaejoong raised both hands in the air and Krystal giggled.
"I don't think fusion means what you think it does," Amber said slowly but accepted the generous inch of soju Jongwoon added to her glass.
Half an hour later Junsu was slurping at the last drops of his massive milkshake as Jongwoon staggered across the floor, collecting everyone’s surveys into his folder. Junsu noted with a tiny chortle that the last comment section on Jaejoong’s paper was completely covered in little hearts, no doubt due to the free soju.
“Thank you all for your help in conducting the 2014 New Fusion Testing...Menu...Taste...whatever!” Jongwoon hiccupped a high pitched giggle. “Who’s up for a drinking game to the tune of We Got Married reruns?”
“What, every time someone flutters their eyelashes suggestively we take a shot?” Junsu groaned under the dead weight of a cuddly Jaejoong.
“Oh, you know me so well, Head Waiter! I’ll be right back with the rest of the, the soju!” Jongwoon flapped the folder at Junsu with a wink and stumbled towards the kitchen.
“We take a shot?” Jaejoong parroted, raising his head from Junsu’s lap and sliding his phone onto the table midtext. His artfully teased blonde hair had frizzed into a fluffy halo from rubbing against Junsu’s cableknit sweater. “Are you going to join us, Su-yah?”
“Well, I could go for another milkshake!” Junsu tried to pat Jaejoong’s hair back into place with the palm of his hand. It didn’t help much.
“Aww, he looks like a kitty!” Krystal cooed, scooting to the edge of her seat.
“Do you like kitties?” Jaejoong gasped, fumbling in his bag under the table. He pulled out a small red flip phone and started thumbing through the gallery. “Lookie here! This is a picture of my adooooorable little kitten when he was five months old!”
“Ooh!” Krystal squealed. Junsu wrinkled his nose and wondered if she was just tipsy or if she really intended to make hideous noises like that. He shifted to his knees to look over Jaejoong’s shoulder. The photo was a little blurry, snapped as the kitten was caught in the act of attacking someone’s nose with its needle-like teeth.
“Is that Yunho-hyung?” Junsu gasped around a surprised laugh. Krystal covered her amused giggle with a well-moisturized hand and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles out of her skin tight jeans.
“Oh, and here’s a better one!” Jaejoong pulled out a third phone, one Junsu had never seen before, and punched a side button to light up the display. The background was an awkwardly angled shot of Changmin pouting at the camera with his hair sticking up on end. “This is a picture of my adooooooorable little boyfriend on our five month anniversary!” Jaejoong puckered up his lips at Changmin’s glare.
“Jaejoong, you’ve only been dating for a month,” Junsu said with a frown. The wine and soju must already be making it difficult for him to think in straight lines. This was going to be interesting rest of the night.
“Oh, that’s just what he thinks!” Jaejoong answered with a dark glint in his eye, sounding more sober than was logically possible.
“How come all your friends are gay!” Krystal whined loudly, kicking at Junsu’s ribs and clinking her front teeth against the wine glass clutched in her fist.
“How many of my friends have you actually met?” Junsu asked, his frown deepening indignantly as he shifted out of her foot range.
“Good point. Do you actually have any others besides him?” Krystal toed Jaejoong’s knee and he kicked back. “Ohhh! Get your creepy little hands off my face Kim Jongwoon, or I’m suing for harassment!”
Junsu turned around in surprise to see Jongwoon leaning over the back of the sofa, dangling a chunk of something white and gooey in front of Krystal’s face.
“I’m just trying to offer you a sample of our own new fusion tiramisu, made with layers of rice cake and infused with the invigorating flavors of makgeolli instead of espresso!”
“How does that even deserve to be called tiramisu?” Junsu wondered aloud. Not that he knew much about espresso, but it seemed kind of essential to the concept. Everyone ignored him as Krystal shoved Jongwoon’s hands away and the bite of cake dropped onto Jaejoong’s upturned cheek. Junsu wiped it off the the nearest napkin and choked on the strong smell of rice wine emanating from it.
“Aww, his hands aren’t creepy, they’re cute! Aren’t they, Amber?” Jaejoong nudged Amber’s knee with his foot and she nodded. “Can I take a selca with your hands, Boss? They’ll make my face look smaller!”
“Sure!” Jongwoon scurried around the sofa to sit at Amber’s feet, the camera app on Jaejoong’s latest phone already loaded and waiting.
“He’s not your boss!” Junsu moaned, trying to shift out of the line of the camera and starting to rethink his decision to stick around for the rest of this party. Jaejoong was probably not going to be in any shape to drive him home before tomorrow; maybe he should just catch the subway before it stopped running…
“Hey!”
“What?” Junsu snapped, startled away from his staring contest with the clock on his phone.
“If you’re thinking about leaving, you can’t,” Jongwoon glared at him. “It’s cold outside. You can sleep here if you want to,” he waved off Junsu’s protests before his employee had barely had a chance to open his mouth.
“Fine,” Junsu pouted at his phone screen. He didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. His mother would forgive him for skipping church if he texted her an excuse about work. “Can I have another milkshake?” Jongwoon grinned and Jaejoong tightened his arm around Junsu’s middle.
“Milk’s in the fridge door, ice cream’s in the top left of the freezer.”
“Thanks, Boss!” Junsu extricated himself from a clingy puddle of Jaejoong and slid on sock feet into the kitchen as the TV snapped on.
It was well past midnight and they had moved on to the final episodes of some melodrama when Amber yawned loudly and announced she was going home. Jongwoon offered the girls his spare bedroom but they declined, Krystal mumbling something about reservations at a spa in Apgujeong with her sister. Jongwoon escorted them downstairs to help load them into a taxi but Junsu just waved goodbye from the sofa, the sixty something kilos of sagging Jaejoong sprawled across his back a good excuse to stay inside where it was warm.
“Junsu-yah,” Jaejoong mumbled into the sofa cushion as soon the door slammed behind Jongwoon. “I want to go home.”
“Why don’t you just sleep here? You’ll probably knock out before another taxi makes it here anyway,” Junsu sighed, shutting off the TV with the remote.
“I want to go home, Su. Changminnie’s expecting…” The rest of his words were distorted by a loud yawn that sent prickles up the back of Junsu’s neck.
“I don’t think you want to bother--”
“Can you call Changminnie for me.” Jaejoong shoved his phone into the side of Junsu’s face.
“Why do I have to--!”
“Hello?”
“Um, hello!” Junsu grappled for steady grip on the phone once he realized Jaejoong had already dialed Changmin’s number. “This is Kim Junsu! Good evening!” Junsu twisted away to glare at Jaejoong, mouthing unpleasantries at his sleepy face. Jaejoong gave a lazy smile.
“What do you want?” Changmin’s disgruntled tone snapped Junsu’s attention back to the conversation.
“Well, I didn’t drive to the party tonight and...I think Jae-hyung is a little too…!” Junsu trailed off with a breathless laugh.
“Hmmph,” Changmin snorted. “Why am I not surprised. Every time I hear from you it’s because you got my boyfriend drunk and aren’t man enough to take responsibility!” Junsu snorted louder. As if Jaejoong’s bratty boyfriend was going to accuse him of creating this unpleasant situation!
“Exactly what kind of responsibility do you want me to take, hmm?” Junsu hummed. He could play dirty too, when provoked.
Changmin growled.
“Sorry! Sorry! Bad joke, hehehe!” Junsu rubbed the back of his neck, still sticky from the dribble of tiramisu that had missed Jaejoong’s face earlier. “But in all fairness, Jae doesn’t really need my help to get plastered.”
“Tell me about it.”
Junsu rolled his eyes at the ceiling and fought the urge to hurl Jaejoong’s cellphone at the wall.
“Haha, yeah. Um, well, we’re at Sweet Orchard Apartments in Myeongil-dong. I’ll text you the address.”
“I know where that is, no need,” Changmin sniffed airily.
“Ok, well...it's building 115, number 623. See you!”
Changmin hung up the phone without a goodbye.
Jongwoon predictably pouted at the news Jaejoong wasn’t sticking around for the sleepover once he made it back upstairs but quickly settled for joining the cuddle heap on the sofa until his departure. Changmin showed up a half hour later with hair almost as ruffled as it was on Jaejoong’s phone wallpaper, Junsu was amused to find.
“G’byyyye!” Jaejoong fluttered one of his gloves at Junsu as Changmin impatiently tried to shove the other onto his right hand. “Can I come back in a few weeks to take a five month anniversary selca with your hands, Boss?”
“He’s not your boss!” Changmin snapped crossly, giving up on the gloves and tugging on Jaejoong’s muffler. Jaejoong swayed, pitching forward into Changmin’s arms.
“Sure,” Jongwoon slurred, leaning into Junsu’s side. “You can take one with my turtles too, if you want.” He ducked his head to snuffle into the collar of his sweater. “I’m sorry I got mad, Jaejoong! I know you wouldn’t really hurt Ddangkoma and Ddangkkoming!”
“Aw, you’re such a good friend, Boss!” Jaejoong stretched an arm to ruffle Jongwoon’s mop of hair. Jongwoon returned the gesture, Junsu catching him by the shoulders before he could keel over onto the hardwood.
“Oh my god. Keep your hands and your turtles away from my boyfriend!” Changmin tightened his grip on Jaejoong’s shoulders, steering him towards the door.
“Deal! As long as you keep your knives away from my babies!” Jongwoon’s laughter gurgled ominously in the back of his throat.
“You don’t need to worry about my knives so much as my antique sword collection,” Changmin glared, his hand on the doorknob. “I have one from the crusades.” Jongwoon blanched, clawing fingertips into the loose knit of Junsu’s sweater.
“No, no he doesn’t,” Junsu hastily assured. “And if he does, it’s probably really dull.”
“Hmmph!” Changmin opened the door and starting pulling Jaejoong down the hall.
“Goodbye~!”
Junsu let the door fall shut behind them, too sleepy to lunge and catch it before the slam.
“I like your friends!” Jongwoon whispered, his fingers still woven into the front of Junsu’s sweater. “You should bring that soccer guy next time.” Junsu sighed, gently removing Jongwoon’s fingers from his clothes.
“Goodnight, Boss. I’m gonna sleep on the sofa.”
Pairings/Characters: Yoochun/Junsu, Jaejoong/Changmin, Heechul/Yunho
Rating/Warnings: T for language and (eventual) making out
Disclaimer: I own nothing; written just for fun
Summary: No turtles were harmed in the making of this chapter.
A/N: I unfortunately cannot take credit for inventing the woothie. I heard about them from a friend and I think she heard about them from someone else, but I'm sure you can find a nice recipe online ;)
Coffee Bastard, Part 8
After Hyukjae, Donghae, and several of his other so-called "friends" turned down Junsu’s invitations to join him at Jongwoon’s spaghetti party Junsu was feeling disgruntled and not just a little neglected until he suddenly had a stroke of inspiration to ask Yoochun while he was waiting for said person in the park the next Wednesday after an early soccer practice.
They hadn't mentioned a time when they had agreed to meet up again by the vending machine but Junsu figured it couldn't hurt to show up early so he headed right over to the park after helping Hyukjae lock up the supplies in the gym. He jogged around the rusting jungle gym with a big grin on his lips, ready to greet Yoochun with a loud whoop.
The shout died in his throat when the bench came into sight, empty and rather forlorn. Junsu sank onto the bench and waited with his soccer ball perched on his knees, thinking of spaghetti and parties and Yoochun’s smug little grin all smeared with Jongwoon’s delicious marinara sauce. Parties were fun, especially if you invited cool people to them. It was completely his friends’ loss that they had turned down the opportunity for free food prepared by a professional chef. Junsu smiled to himself and enjoyed the peaceful view while he waited, distracted for a while by a flock of sparrows pecking in the stiff grass by the swingset.
Yoochun was late, though, and as late afternoon slipped into evening Junsu started to shiver in the stretching shadows and the rising breeze. He texted Hyukjae for a few minutes to keep his numbing fingers moving but by the time the street lamps switched on he had to admit to himself that Yoochun wasn’t coming. Maybe he had forgotten. Darn. It was a little hard to invite someone to a party if you never saw them again. Maybe he should ask Sehun and Zitao for some lessons on telepathy, he thought with a wry smile, although Junsu wasn’t sure if that worked across long distances. He didn’t even know what part of the city Yoochun lived in. Darn.
Junsu staggered to his feet from the corner of the sagging bench, waved a reluctant goodbye to the rusty vending machine, and kicked his ball to the street corner. On the subway home he texted Jaejoong.
Of course, Junsu could have just asked Jaejoong for Yoochun’s number. He did think of that possibility, but hesitated at the thought of Jaejoong asking too many questions. Jaejoong always asked too many questions exactly when Junsu didn’t have the patience for an interrogation. And then, of course, his brain just had to take off on a downward spiral of potential disastrous scenarios from there. What if Yoochun agreed to come but thought the boss was weird? What if Krystal got drunk on the wine and tried to flirt with Yoochun?
Junsu cringed at the painful mental images and hastily texted Jaejoong an invitation instead. Jaejoong immediately accepted with an emoticon of a drooling dog. Even if he was an excellent cook himself, Jaejoong was not one to turn down offers of free food. (At least when he was between diets.)
Once he had confirmed the date with his escort Junsu settled back against his cushy seat in the crowded train car. He felt relieved having settled on bringing Jaejoong instead. Jaejoong could handle weird. Jaejoong was weird. That was one of the best things about him, in Junsu’s opinion, that and his kimchi jjigae.
And good thing too, because the weird started the minute they walked into Fluffiore's on Saturday night. Jaejoong let the door to the restaurant lobby fall shut in Junsu’s face, walking past the group gathered by the register and making straight for the large glass tank newly installed on a paint splattered card table next to it. The recent addition wasn’t that hard to miss, being the only part of the room devoid of floral accessories, although give it another week and Junsu wouldn’t be surprised to find it randomly wreathed in flowers.
“Couldn’t you just be normal and get, like, I don’t know, a tank of lobsters or something.” Jaejoong leaned forward to tap on the glass. Jongwoon stared back at him in horror.
“But restaurants only have a tank of lobsters if they’re going to be eaten!”
“I know,” Jaejoong sniffed coolly. “So why do you have animals of the non-edible variety on display.”
“I don’t know, Jae, they look pretty edible to me,” Junsu snickered, playing right along. He closed the door at the top of the stairs and crossed the floor to peer over Jaejoong’s shoulder on tiptoe. “Don’t they look plump and juicy?”
“Ooh! You’re right, Su, especially that red one! I make a mean turtle soup.” Jaejoong narrowed his eyes at Jongwoon’s pet turtles and bared his teeth hungrily.
“No one’s eating any turtles on these premises!” Jongwoon shouted, shouldering between Jaejoong and the glass tank with arms outstretched. “They’re our mascots! Our good luck charms!”
“I’m pretty sure turtles are bad luck in ancient Chines--I mean Italian, ancient Italian culture. Isn’t that right, Junsu-yah,” Jaejoong drawled as he edged closer to Jongwoon's flailing arms.
“Oh absolutely. Very deep, very nasty bad luck!” Junsu agreed, fighting to keep a straight face.
“Oh my god, guys! There is no such thing as “ancient Italian culture!”” They all turned to stare at Krystal who was, as usual, scowling disdainfully. “Did you mean ancient Tuscan culture, by any chance?”
“Tuscan? As in Tuscan chicken?” Jaejoong asked, perking up.
“I think you mean Tuscan turtle!” Junsu giggled, patting Jaejoong on the shoulder.
“Do you have an unemployment wish, Kim Junsu?!” Jongwoon was blinking very rapidly, his small hands balled into smaller fists.
“So, are we waiting for anyone else?” Junsu turned his head to see a girl with short dark hair hop down from the register counter and bump her hip into Krystal’s. He hadn't noticed her before and she didn't look familiar.
“Nope, Shindong-hyung can’t make it, so I think this is it!” Junsu called over Jaejoong and Jongwoon’s game of shadow dodging in front of the turtles.
“Finally.” Krystal flicked a finger across her phone screen and looked up. “Let’s get going then.”
“Goodbye, you little cuties!” Jongwoon tickled his babies under the chin with a gentle finger before shooing everyone towards the door. Jongwoon snickered when a wayward tumble of morning glories caught in Jaejoong's hair, one turquoise silk bell popping off its vine to lodge above his ear. Jaejoong just smiled and hula-ed down the stairs until they reached the sidewalk.
Jongwoon’s apartment was not too far from the restaurant but since it was situated in a dark alley of the sort that, according to Jongwoon, dubious characters tended to lurk down and visitors often got lost in, it was just easier to meet up at Fluffiore’s and then walk over. Especially since there were new guests along. Jongwoon led the way with Krsytal close on his heels, Jaejoong dragging his feet at the back of the group.
“So, Krystal, are you gonna introduce your friend?” Junsu poked the junior waitress’ shoulder but she just shrugged him off, tracing her way around her phone screen with the edge of a pink fingernail, probably playing some dumb game again that involved cake or bunnies.
“Hey guys, my name’s Amber,” Krystal’s friend lifted a mittened hand in greeting.
“Hi, Amber!” Jaejoong waved his whole arm, the one that was not wrapped around Junsu’s neck. “How do you know this crowd?” He waved his arm again in a circle as if he were best friends with everyone in the little group. Well, Junsu guessed he was, kind of. Jaejoong frequented the restaurant often enough to be on friendly terms with the boss and even joined their after work hangouts on occasion.
“Oh, I’m Krystal’s roommate.” Amber knocked a gentle fist to Krystal’s bony shoulder.
“Ex-roommate,” Krystal snapped, wriggling in her oversized tan overcoat.
“Oooooh!” Jaejoong’s voice undulated obnoxiously. “Are you guys--! Because you--!” A loud laugh from Amber and a sharp gasp from Krystal made Jaejoong break off into his own amused laughter. Junsu turned his head so it wasn’t directed straight at his ear. Jaejoong’s laugh was almost as painfully loud as his own.
“For your information, my moving out had to do with differences in living habits, nothing illicit!” Amber’s eyes sparkled under the band of her backwards baseball cap.
“Oh no, I’m pretty sure the dirty laundry you left lying around was nothing short of illicit.” Krystal adjusted equally oversized sunglasses on the bridge of her nose. Junsu rolled his eyes. It was after 6:00 PM and the street lights had already turned on.
“Well, there you have it!” Amber grinned, blushing a little.
“Well, here we are! This is my street.” Jongwoon dashed a few paces ahead of everyone to gesture grandly at the entrance to a narrow side street. “And that,” he pointed a few yards ahead, waiting for everyone to follow his gesture, “is my building.”
“Wait--this place was supposed to be hard to find?” Junsu giggled as Amber stopped short with her hands of her hips, staring around at the average looking residential street with average looking apartment complexes surrounded by average looking street lamps and parking lots and trees between the strips of sidewalk.
“Um, well, all the buildings around here look similar. It’s confusing.” Jongwoon waved both his arms as if he could make a snow angel standing up if he just thought about precipitation and frigid temperatures hard enough.
"That's why they invented street numbers," Amber pointed out, waving at the the lettering painted in think black lines onto the the side of the building, Sweet Orchard Apartments 115.
“I’m sure the boss just wanted to show off his turtles,” Krystal drawled, hooking an index finger over the ear piece of her sunglasses. “Too bad for him Jaejoong ssi can only appreciate them in an edible sense.”
“Hey! Don’t talk about me like that, I’m standing right here.” Jongwoon craned his neck forward, ostensibly in an attempt to stare down Krystal’s subordination, although she was generally immune to his icy stares in general and Junsu wasn’t even sure she could see him right now through her shades in the dark.
“Let’s go inside! I’m hungry! Are you hungry, Amber ssi?”
“Don’t bother with formalities!” Amber said with another laugh, waving her hand in front of her face before reaching up adjust her cap. “And yes! I am starving!”
“Meeee toooo!” Jaejoong whined in Junsu’s ear. Junsu pinched his leg through his unseasonably fashionable crepe silk slacks.
“Spaghettiiiiiii!” Junsu led the charge up the front steps, not stopping til he got all the way to the lobby elevator when an old woman with a lap dog in a baby stroller conveniently exited the building just as he was approaching the glass front doors. Jaejoong stumbled to a halt behind him, arm still hooked over Junsu’s shoulders.
“Hey, I know this place!” Jaejoong blew a few wayward strands of his bleached fringe out of his eyes, turning his head to look around the lobby. Junsu punched the up arrow. “This is where--oof!” They both careened forward just as the elevators doors were sliding open with the force something slamming into them from behind.
“Sorry!” Jongwoon snickered as he pulled away, frantically pulsing the close doors button with his right fist, Krystal’s sunglasses held aloft in the other.
“Hey, you give those back right now, Boss! Or I’ll streak the silverware for a week!” The elevator doors eased back open to allow the girls access and Amber snatched the shades away from Jongwoon. Krystal shoved them back on with an unimpressed sneer at the rest of them as Junsu pressed the button for the sixth floor.
“You know, we’re inside now,” Amber smirked as the lift started to move. Krystal didn’t reply and Junsu didn’t even bother to muffle his chortle when she tripped on her way out into the hall.
Jaejoong patted her hand with a sympathetic smile. He knew how hard it was, after all, for your fashion expressions to clash with your environment. As he often sighed to Junsu, it was hard, being unique, or something like that.
Jongwoon opened the door marked 623 and ushered his guests inside, collecting everyone’s coats and winter accessories to stash in the spare bedroom.
“Something smells delicious!” Jaejoong strained on tiptoe to sniff at the air. It did smell good, the pungent odors of stewed kimchi and ripened cheese softened with an undertone of something sweet.
“Why don’t you all have a seat!” Jongwoon reappeared with a folder and an empty olive jar of full of writing utensils. “Welcome to the 2014 New Fusion Menu Taste Testing Event! Please take one and pass.” He fluttered a stack of papers pulled from the folder at Junsu. Junsu peeled the first page off the stack and plopped onto the floor beside the coffee table.
“What is this, Boss?” He scanned the page as he waited for Jaejoong to take the stack.
“This is the official commenting form!"
“Seriously? You’re trying to make us work at a party?” Krystal scoffed as she passed a page to Amber.
“Come on, Krystal, it’s not gonna hurt you to circle a few little bubbles in between courses!” Jongwoon pouted, lowering his head reproachfully. Junsu giggled, because he looked like a turtle.
“In that case, I’ll allow you to do my circling for me. I’m sure you’ll be able to tell my ratings from my exquisite facial expressions. This one means gag,” Krystal paused to make a grimace that would have made the Grinch proud, “and this one means--”
“Take a pen, Jaejoong!” Jongwoon rattled the jar in front of Jaejoong who had slumped to the floor to lean against Junsu’s side.
“These are kind of boring…” Jaejoong sifted through the options but didn’t make a selection. “Can I have a glitter pen?”
“But the survey's supposed to be anonymous,” Jongwoon insisted.
“As if you couldn’t already tell from my excellent handwriting and Junsu’s chicken scratch whose is whose.” Jaejoong puffed out his lower lip and plucked the shiniest pen from the jar. Jongwoon rolled his eyes and finished passing out the surveys.
“Now, I’m going to bring out the dishes one at a time. Water and cider will be provided as palate cleansers between courses. If you decide to make use of the optional comments sections, please refer to dishes by their designated code numbers and not the ingredients. Everyone with me?”
“Yes!” Jongwoon smiled pleasantly at the chorus of eager voices.
“Oh, question, Jaejoong?”
“Does this taste test include alcohol?” Jaejoong waved his paper in the air. Krystal sank onto the sofa with a sigh.
“Yes, that will be the final portion of the survey,” Jongwoon nodded, clasping his hands at his waist.
“You’re the best, Boss!” Jongwoon grinned at Jaejoong’s hand heart.
“Now, if I could request the assistance of the dashing head waiter…!” Amber giggled at Jongwoon’s dramatic flourish in the direction of the kitchen as Junsu hopped to his feet. Krystal shot out a hand to yank her down onto the sofa by the wrist as Junsu waved goodbye.
The whole kitchen was set up in neat stations delineated with colored ribbon borders and marked with carefully numbered signs.
“Dang, Boss! This is just like a TV show!” Junsu ran a finger along a strip of red ribbon admiringly.
“I know!” Jongwoon simpered through his eyelashes, shoving a tray with the first set of dishes at Junsu. Junsu followed him back to the living room, sniffing at the covered plates on the tray. He carefully arranged one dish in front of each survey respondent, starting with Amber on the left, before sitting back down next to Jaejoong and pulling off the paper cover of his own plate to reveal a swirl of angel hair in a thick, red sauce. This had to be the ddeokbokketti. He lifted a forkful to his mouth as Jaejoong sunk his teeth into a mass of noodles dripping with the rich sauce.
“Mmm!” Jongwoon bit back a nervous smile at the mostly appreciative hums of consensus and tugged at the hem of his black pullover as his gaze flicked back and forth between his busily chewing guests. Amber gave a thumbs up before shoving in another mouthful. Krystal’s face was carefully neutral but even she deigned to take a second tiny bite before Jongwoon stacked up the plates and whisked them back to the kitchen, motioning for Junsu to stay put and focus on the evaluation form.
Junsu circled a 7 out of 10 and glanced over to the others. Amber was chewing on her pen lid. Jaejoong was hunched over the table, jealously guarding his paper from wandering eyes as he furiously scribbled what was turning into a short essay in the margins. Krystal was resting primly with her hands folded on the knees of her expensive looking jeans but Junsu saw with a side glance that she had selected the 5 in the first row with a perfectly formed circle. Jongwoon reappeared with the second tray and Junsu glanced back to his own page, adding a little sweet but not bad!! to the comments section before jumping up to help Jongwoon distribute the next round.
Five courses later (two more versions of the ddeokbokketti and three variations on a kimchi vinaigrette salad), Jaejoong was humming lazily to himself with a hand fisted in Junsu’s hair. Junsu yawned, quite full of pasta and comfortably warm.
“Are you guys ready for dessert?” Jongwoon was laying on the floor in front of the coffee table, chin propped up on a silver lamé throw cushion. Too bad the boss didn’t know Jaejoong back when he was trying to coordinate his living room accents, Junsu thought with a snicker.
“Do you have calorie counts available?” Krystal raised her hand. Jongwoon blinked.
“Does alcohol have calories?”
“Noooo! Alcohol does not!” Jaejoong called definitively. Amber giggled into her cup of water.
“Well I’m going to go make the woothies now.” Jongwoon pointed to the kitchen and scooted forward on his stomach with the help of the cushion.
“The what?”
“Woothies, Krystal. Like smoothies but better, because they have wine.” Jongwoon slowly pushed himself up to his feet.
“How is that even fusion,” Krystal deadpanned, twisting a sticky fork in her fingers.
“Like, soju + maekju = somaek,” Jongwoon explained in a slow, careful voice.
“And chicken + maekju = chimaek!” Junsu added in solidarity.
“Ooh! Are we telling math jokes," Jaejoong piped up. "y = 2x + --!”
“Raise your hand if you want a woothie!” Jongwoon said quickly, cutting Jaejoong’s example short. Everyone raised their hand except Junsu.
“You want anything, Junsu?” Jongwoon asked, hesitating in the doorway.
“I’ll stick with a milkshake, thanks.” Junsu yawned. “Do you want any help, boss?”
“I’m good!” Jongwoon shuffled out of the room.
“So, we’ve been here for like, hours, and I still barely know your names.” Amber smiled as the other three turned to look at her.
“What do you wanna know?” Jaejoong drawled out the side of his mouth, probably fighting back a yawn himself. He tended to get sleepy after eating although the alcohol should fix that shortly, Junsu figured.
“Well, where are you guys from? What do you do when you're not working or eating at Fluffiore’s?”
“I’m a world famous interior designer,” Jaejoong yawned behind his hand. Amber nodded, eyebrows lifting.
“I love soccer!” Junsu volunteered. “And dancing.”
“Oh yeah?” Amber cracked a smile, shifting on the couch to face the doorway as the blender kicked on.
“Yeah! I’m from around here, and Jae-hyung’s from--”
“Obviously I’m too cool and metropolitan to come from anywhere other than Seoul,” Jaejoong blinked innocently at the girls as he stabbed Junsu in the gut with the handle of his teaspoon. “Just ignore him.” He patted the side of Junsu’s face with cold fingers and turned to wave at Jongwoon who was returning with four fluted glasses on his tray.
“Well that was fast!” Amber accepted a glass from Jongwoon and held it up to the light. The thick liquid had a nice rosy glow.
“I’ve been working on streamlining some processes!” Jongwoon said proudly, setting the last glass down in front of Jaejoong and heading for the kitchen again. “Be right back with your milkshake, Su!”
“Ah, woothies!” Jaejoong sighed, stroking the side of his frosted glass. Junsu rolled his eyes with a grin.
“Where are you from, Amber?” He leaned an elbow onto the table, careful not to jostle Jaejoong with his restless feet. He didn't particularly care to smell like woothie for the remainder of the evening.
“She’s American! Krystal met her in America because they both speak American!” Jongwoon announced, a tall black glass with a flexi straw peeking over the rim in hand.
“Oooh! I have a friend who speaks American!” Jaejoong twisted to face Amber as Jongwoon handed the glass off to Junsu. “My best friend Yoochun! He lived in America too.”
“English,” Krystal mumbled around a teaspoonful of woothie. “And how did you know where she's from, Boss!”
“Hmm?” Junsu hummed around his straw.
“It’s called English, not American,” Krystal repeated firmly, taking the spoon out of her mouth.
“Oh no!” Jaejoong sat up, wide-eyed. “Yoochunnie most definitely speaks American.”
“If anyone wants to try some double fusion wooju, feel free to add a shot or two of this!” Jongwoon held up a green bottle with a curling smile, already twisting off the cap.
“Ooh! Pick me!” Jaejoong raised both hands in the air and Krystal giggled.
"I don't think fusion means what you think it does," Amber said slowly but accepted the generous inch of soju Jongwoon added to her glass.
Half an hour later Junsu was slurping at the last drops of his massive milkshake as Jongwoon staggered across the floor, collecting everyone’s surveys into his folder. Junsu noted with a tiny chortle that the last comment section on Jaejoong’s paper was completely covered in little hearts, no doubt due to the free soju.
“Thank you all for your help in conducting the 2014 New Fusion Testing...Menu...Taste...whatever!” Jongwoon hiccupped a high pitched giggle. “Who’s up for a drinking game to the tune of We Got Married reruns?”
“What, every time someone flutters their eyelashes suggestively we take a shot?” Junsu groaned under the dead weight of a cuddly Jaejoong.
“Oh, you know me so well, Head Waiter! I’ll be right back with the rest of the, the soju!” Jongwoon flapped the folder at Junsu with a wink and stumbled towards the kitchen.
“We take a shot?” Jaejoong parroted, raising his head from Junsu’s lap and sliding his phone onto the table midtext. His artfully teased blonde hair had frizzed into a fluffy halo from rubbing against Junsu’s cableknit sweater. “Are you going to join us, Su-yah?”
“Well, I could go for another milkshake!” Junsu tried to pat Jaejoong’s hair back into place with the palm of his hand. It didn’t help much.
“Aww, he looks like a kitty!” Krystal cooed, scooting to the edge of her seat.
“Do you like kitties?” Jaejoong gasped, fumbling in his bag under the table. He pulled out a small red flip phone and started thumbing through the gallery. “Lookie here! This is a picture of my adooooorable little kitten when he was five months old!”
“Ooh!” Krystal squealed. Junsu wrinkled his nose and wondered if she was just tipsy or if she really intended to make hideous noises like that. He shifted to his knees to look over Jaejoong’s shoulder. The photo was a little blurry, snapped as the kitten was caught in the act of attacking someone’s nose with its needle-like teeth.
“Is that Yunho-hyung?” Junsu gasped around a surprised laugh. Krystal covered her amused giggle with a well-moisturized hand and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles out of her skin tight jeans.
“Oh, and here’s a better one!” Jaejoong pulled out a third phone, one Junsu had never seen before, and punched a side button to light up the display. The background was an awkwardly angled shot of Changmin pouting at the camera with his hair sticking up on end. “This is a picture of my adooooooorable little boyfriend on our five month anniversary!” Jaejoong puckered up his lips at Changmin’s glare.
“Jaejoong, you’ve only been dating for a month,” Junsu said with a frown. The wine and soju must already be making it difficult for him to think in straight lines. This was going to be interesting rest of the night.
“Oh, that’s just what he thinks!” Jaejoong answered with a dark glint in his eye, sounding more sober than was logically possible.
“How come all your friends are gay!” Krystal whined loudly, kicking at Junsu’s ribs and clinking her front teeth against the wine glass clutched in her fist.
“How many of my friends have you actually met?” Junsu asked, his frown deepening indignantly as he shifted out of her foot range.
“Good point. Do you actually have any others besides him?” Krystal toed Jaejoong’s knee and he kicked back. “Ohhh! Get your creepy little hands off my face Kim Jongwoon, or I’m suing for harassment!”
Junsu turned around in surprise to see Jongwoon leaning over the back of the sofa, dangling a chunk of something white and gooey in front of Krystal’s face.
“I’m just trying to offer you a sample of our own new fusion tiramisu, made with layers of rice cake and infused with the invigorating flavors of makgeolli instead of espresso!”
“How does that even deserve to be called tiramisu?” Junsu wondered aloud. Not that he knew much about espresso, but it seemed kind of essential to the concept. Everyone ignored him as Krystal shoved Jongwoon’s hands away and the bite of cake dropped onto Jaejoong’s upturned cheek. Junsu wiped it off the the nearest napkin and choked on the strong smell of rice wine emanating from it.
“Aww, his hands aren’t creepy, they’re cute! Aren’t they, Amber?” Jaejoong nudged Amber’s knee with his foot and she nodded. “Can I take a selca with your hands, Boss? They’ll make my face look smaller!”
“Sure!” Jongwoon scurried around the sofa to sit at Amber’s feet, the camera app on Jaejoong’s latest phone already loaded and waiting.
“He’s not your boss!” Junsu moaned, trying to shift out of the line of the camera and starting to rethink his decision to stick around for the rest of this party. Jaejoong was probably not going to be in any shape to drive him home before tomorrow; maybe he should just catch the subway before it stopped running…
“Hey!”
“What?” Junsu snapped, startled away from his staring contest with the clock on his phone.
“If you’re thinking about leaving, you can’t,” Jongwoon glared at him. “It’s cold outside. You can sleep here if you want to,” he waved off Junsu’s protests before his employee had barely had a chance to open his mouth.
“Fine,” Junsu pouted at his phone screen. He didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. His mother would forgive him for skipping church if he texted her an excuse about work. “Can I have another milkshake?” Jongwoon grinned and Jaejoong tightened his arm around Junsu’s middle.
“Milk’s in the fridge door, ice cream’s in the top left of the freezer.”
“Thanks, Boss!” Junsu extricated himself from a clingy puddle of Jaejoong and slid on sock feet into the kitchen as the TV snapped on.
It was well past midnight and they had moved on to the final episodes of some melodrama when Amber yawned loudly and announced she was going home. Jongwoon offered the girls his spare bedroom but they declined, Krystal mumbling something about reservations at a spa in Apgujeong with her sister. Jongwoon escorted them downstairs to help load them into a taxi but Junsu just waved goodbye from the sofa, the sixty something kilos of sagging Jaejoong sprawled across his back a good excuse to stay inside where it was warm.
“Junsu-yah,” Jaejoong mumbled into the sofa cushion as soon the door slammed behind Jongwoon. “I want to go home.”
“Why don’t you just sleep here? You’ll probably knock out before another taxi makes it here anyway,” Junsu sighed, shutting off the TV with the remote.
“I want to go home, Su. Changminnie’s expecting…” The rest of his words were distorted by a loud yawn that sent prickles up the back of Junsu’s neck.
“I don’t think you want to bother--”
“Can you call Changminnie for me.” Jaejoong shoved his phone into the side of Junsu’s face.
“Why do I have to--!”
“Hello?”
“Um, hello!” Junsu grappled for steady grip on the phone once he realized Jaejoong had already dialed Changmin’s number. “This is Kim Junsu! Good evening!” Junsu twisted away to glare at Jaejoong, mouthing unpleasantries at his sleepy face. Jaejoong gave a lazy smile.
“What do you want?” Changmin’s disgruntled tone snapped Junsu’s attention back to the conversation.
“Well, I didn’t drive to the party tonight and...I think Jae-hyung is a little too…!” Junsu trailed off with a breathless laugh.
“Hmmph,” Changmin snorted. “Why am I not surprised. Every time I hear from you it’s because you got my boyfriend drunk and aren’t man enough to take responsibility!” Junsu snorted louder. As if Jaejoong’s bratty boyfriend was going to accuse him of creating this unpleasant situation!
“Exactly what kind of responsibility do you want me to take, hmm?” Junsu hummed. He could play dirty too, when provoked.
Changmin growled.
“Sorry! Sorry! Bad joke, hehehe!” Junsu rubbed the back of his neck, still sticky from the dribble of tiramisu that had missed Jaejoong’s face earlier. “But in all fairness, Jae doesn’t really need my help to get plastered.”
“Tell me about it.”
Junsu rolled his eyes at the ceiling and fought the urge to hurl Jaejoong’s cellphone at the wall.
“Haha, yeah. Um, well, we’re at Sweet Orchard Apartments in Myeongil-dong. I’ll text you the address.”
“I know where that is, no need,” Changmin sniffed airily.
“Ok, well...it's building 115, number 623. See you!”
Changmin hung up the phone without a goodbye.
Jongwoon predictably pouted at the news Jaejoong wasn’t sticking around for the sleepover once he made it back upstairs but quickly settled for joining the cuddle heap on the sofa until his departure. Changmin showed up a half hour later with hair almost as ruffled as it was on Jaejoong’s phone wallpaper, Junsu was amused to find.
“G’byyyye!” Jaejoong fluttered one of his gloves at Junsu as Changmin impatiently tried to shove the other onto his right hand. “Can I come back in a few weeks to take a five month anniversary selca with your hands, Boss?”
“He’s not your boss!” Changmin snapped crossly, giving up on the gloves and tugging on Jaejoong’s muffler. Jaejoong swayed, pitching forward into Changmin’s arms.
“Sure,” Jongwoon slurred, leaning into Junsu’s side. “You can take one with my turtles too, if you want.” He ducked his head to snuffle into the collar of his sweater. “I’m sorry I got mad, Jaejoong! I know you wouldn’t really hurt Ddangkoma and Ddangkkoming!”
“Aw, you’re such a good friend, Boss!” Jaejoong stretched an arm to ruffle Jongwoon’s mop of hair. Jongwoon returned the gesture, Junsu catching him by the shoulders before he could keel over onto the hardwood.
“Oh my god. Keep your hands and your turtles away from my boyfriend!” Changmin tightened his grip on Jaejoong’s shoulders, steering him towards the door.
“Deal! As long as you keep your knives away from my babies!” Jongwoon’s laughter gurgled ominously in the back of his throat.
“You don’t need to worry about my knives so much as my antique sword collection,” Changmin glared, his hand on the doorknob. “I have one from the crusades.” Jongwoon blanched, clawing fingertips into the loose knit of Junsu’s sweater.
“No, no he doesn’t,” Junsu hastily assured. “And if he does, it’s probably really dull.”
“Hmmph!” Changmin opened the door and starting pulling Jaejoong down the hall.
“Goodbye~!”
Junsu let the door fall shut behind them, too sleepy to lunge and catch it before the slam.
“I like your friends!” Jongwoon whispered, his fingers still woven into the front of Junsu’s sweater. “You should bring that soccer guy next time.” Junsu sighed, gently removing Jongwoon’s fingers from his clothes.
“Goodnight, Boss. I’m gonna sleep on the sofa.”