Ordinary Part 3
Title: Ordinary
Pairing: YeWook
Minor Pairings: MinKyu
Part: 3
Rating: PG
Genre: au, romance, drama
Disclaimer: YeWook own each other
Warnings: Language, underage drinking
Summary: Ryeowook is just an ordinary person and Jongwoon is anything but.
“Do you want me to pay you?”
Ryeowook looked up at Jongwoon in surprise. “Pay me? Why would you do that?”
Jongwoon gestured through the customer log Ryeowook was organizing. “You’re here at my barbershop whenever it’s open. You help me organize and clean. I feel bad about that. Isn’t this taking away your time with your family and friends?”
Ryeowook shook his head frantically. “I do it because I want to. My friends are busy with schoolwork and my parents…they don’t understand. I like being here with you and Ddangkkoma. You understand me. I can be myself here.”
Jongwoon regarded Ryeowook with hooded eyes. “Why don’t you just tell them? Make them understand. Your parents love you. Surely they would understand you would rather compose music than go into business.”
“They won’t understand,” said Ryeowook stubbornly.
“You can’t spend your entire life pleasing them at your expense,” insisted Jongwoon. “You can’t hide in here forever.”
“Do you not want me here anymore?” asked Ryeowook, stung.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Jongwoon fiddled with his headset necklace as he looked for the right words to say. “What I’m saying is that I can’t always be your safest place to hide. I can’t always be there when you need me.”
“Don’t say that,” said Ryeowook sharply. “Of course you’ll always be there. By the way, do you have your last customer’s address? It’s for the records,” Ryeowook said, quickly changing the subject.
Jongwoon’s frown deepened, but he didn’t pursue the subject, much to Ryeowook’s relief.
What did Jongwoon know about unreachable dreams anyways?
-
Jongwoon was not there the next day. Or the next. Or the next.
-
Ryeowook nursed his bottle, frustration clear on his face. He took a swig of his drink, nose crinkling as the alcohol burned on the way down his throat.
Had Ryeowook been thinking straight, he would have been awed at the fact that he managed to sneak into this bar and order an alcoholic drink without being caught. As Ryeowook was not thinking straight, he could only think about how unfair life could be.
“Hey cutie, can I buy you a drink?”
Ryeowook turned to see a man in his late twenties leering at him. Disgusted as he was, Ryeowook did want another drink.
“Sure,” said Ryeowook, giving the guy a winsome smile.
The guy’s chest puffed up, confidence growing as he gestured for the bartender to fill up another drink for Ryeowook. Ryeowook gladly accepted the mug and drank deeply.
“I’ve never seen you around here before,” said the guy, sidling closer.
“Maybe you didn’t look hard enough,” Ryeowook replied cheekily. He drained his mug in record time. He wondered briefly if he could persuade the guy to buy him another drink if he flirted with him.
“Maybe not,” said the guy, his breath tickling Ryeowook’s ear. Ryeowook felt an arm snaking around his waist.
“Can you buy me another drink?” asked Ryeowook boldly.
The guy laughed. “Not easy are we?” He gestured for the bartender.
“Sorry sir, my shift is over,” apologized the bartender. “You’ll have to ask the next guy…Oh look, there he is.”
“Ryeowook?”
Ryeowook shivered as he heard a familiar voice. He reluctantly turned around to face the new bartender.
Jongwoon was dressed in an outfit similar to his barista one, Ryeowook noted. He also had an odd expression that Ryeowook was slightly too tipsy to decipher.
“Jongwoonie,” giggled Ryeowook, feeling his two beers taking effect.
Jongwoon grabbed Ryeowook’s arm and dragged him towards the exit. “I’m taking you home,” he said tightly.
“Wait a minute,” said the guy that was buying Ryeowook drinks, blocking Jongwoon’s way. “He’s with me.”
Ryeowook felt the grip on his arm tighten as Jongwoon glared at the other man. “Get out of my way or I’ll make one plastic surgeon a very rich person.”
Frightened by this new emotion he had never seen in the older man, Ryeowook tugged nervously at Jongwoon’s shirt. “Jongwoon, let’s go.”
After one last glare at the man, Jongwoon steered Ryeowook out of the bar and into the chilly night. The cold sobered Ryeowook up slightly.
“What are you doing here?” asked Ryeowook. “How many jobs do you have exactly?”
“What am I doing here?” echoed Jongwoon. “What are you doing here? You are clearly underage!”
“I will graduate from high school soon,” said Ryeowook dismissively. He studied Jongwoon’s familiar features. “I haven’t seen you around for a while. Where have you been?”
“I’ve been busy,” replied Jongwoon tersely. “Look, this is exactly what I was talking about. You’re becoming too dependent on me.”
“Am not,” protested Ryeowook. “I’ve been doing perfectly fine without you.”
“Which is exactly how you ended up in a bar completely smashed and letting a stranger feel you up,” said Jongwoon, so sarcastically that Ryeowook could easily see how Kyuhyun could have been his friend.
“I’m not completely smashed,” corrected Ryeowook. “Just slightly smashed. And he wasn’t feeling me up; he was buying me drinks to contribute to the smash.”
“Ryeowook,” murmured Jongwoon.
“Sometimes when the pressure gets to be too much, I have to find an escape,” blabbered Ryeowook. “An escape so I don’t burst like a pimple.” Ryeowook giggled at his comparison.
“So you’ve done this before?” asked Jongwoon, horror evident in his voice and expression.
“No, silly,” said Ryeowook, gazing up at the night sky. It was beautiful. He looked at Jongwoon. Also beautiful. “I don’t need an escape if you’re there. You can be my escape. Because, you know, I kind of love you.”
“Don’t say that,” said Jongwoon tensely.
“What?” asked Ryeowook. “Don’t say I love you?”
“You don’t mean that,” said Jongwoon certainly.
“But I do,” insisted Ryeowook. “You make me feel like myself. How can I not love you? And don’t lie; I know you love me too. I can see it in your eyes.”
“You might love me,” admitted Jongwoon, his eyes glowing with some emotion Ryeowook didn’t recognize. “And I won’t lie; I love you. But you have to realize that I’m a pretty selfish person. I don’t want to be with someone who loves me in a half-assed way. I don’t want to be your escape from all the problems you refuse to acknowledge. I don’t want to have to drag your baggage because you don’t want to. Do you understand?”
Ryeowook promptly turned around and threw up.
-
Ryeowook woke up to a blinding light. He sat up to close his curtains when a wave of nausea suddenly hit him. He turned and heaved the contents of his stomach in to a bucket that magically appeared.
“You’re lucky I’m not charging for my service,” said a voice that sounded vaguely like Kyuhyun. “You see, I don’t enjoy spending my mornings nursing some hung-over idiot. I had to cancel my date with Sungmin. And I’ve already called your parents and told them you were studying late with me. Aren’t I a good friend?”
“Kyuhyun, just shut up,” groaned Ryeowook, an already pounding headache spiking at Kyuhyun’s voice. He squinted through the light and immediately noticed he was not in his room. “Where am I?”
“I thought you wanted me to shut up,” sniffed Kyuhyun, clearly miffed.
“Kyuhyun, why am I in your room?”
“Okay, bossy,” snapped Kyuhyun. “From what I heard, you passed out and Yesung didn’t know where you lived. So he had the brilliant idea of saddling me with you.”
“Jongwoon?” asked Ryeowook, sitting up straight. He regretted it as his stomach turned unpleasantly.
“He’s long gone,” said Kyuhyun dismissively. “Do you think I would let the traitor of the gaming community into my house?”
Ryeowook groaned again and buried his face in his hands.
“Sorry if you wanted to wake up next to your boyfriend and not me,” said Kyuhyun, glaring resentfully. “But it’s not my fault. I mean, what kind of boyfriend ditches you at a friend’s house the morning after?”
Ryeowook froze and looked up at Kyuhyun. “What are you talking about?”
Kyuhyun fidgeted nervously, cheeks turning slightly pink. “I shouldn’t be the one talking to you about this stuff,” he muttered.
“Spit it out.”
“Before I start, I just want you to know, I’m your friend and I will support whatever decisions you make.”
Ryeowook’s eyes narrowed. Kyuhyun saying sappy stuff like that? Never.
“It’s your life, your choice,” said Kyuhyun, nodding self-righteously.
“Kyuhyun, I’m not getting it. What are you saying?” demanded Ryeowook. His headache was not doing wonders on his mental processes.
Kyuhyun held up his right hand. “Let’s say there’s one person.” He held up his other hand. “And there’s another person. And when they love each other very much…” He brought his hands together and rubbed his palms furiously.
“I don’t get it,” deadpanned Ryeowook.
“Well, I suppose it’s too late for that talk,” muttered Kyuhyun more to himself. He ran a hand through his hair absent-mindedly. “What I’m trying to say is, when a bird loves another bird, they usually court for several years until they show all their feathers. I’m not saying that I’m judging you though!”
“Enough with the analogies!” Ryeowook was getting impatient with Kyuhyun’s bush beating.
Kyuhyun licked his lips nervously. “And I hope you chose to do the HND safely. That’s all I want to say.”
“Hands? Birds? And what in tarnation is the HND?” demanded Ryeowook, frustrated.
Kyuhyun’s blush deepened. “The horizontal naked dance.”
There was a silence as the words sank in and Ryeowook’s face darkened with realization. “I did not have sex with Jongwoon!” he shrieked. “What makes you think that?”
Kyuhyun winced slightly. “Oh, you guys didn’t? I just sensed a lot of sexual tension when he showed up. Now I know it’s unresolved.”
“There’s nothing to resolve,” said Ryeowook, throwing his hands up in defeat. “He’s not my boyfriend; he doesn’t even like me. I was rejected.”
“It’s okay,” said Kyuhyun, awkwardly patting Ryeowook’s hand. “There are plenty of other turtles on the beach.”
“I don’t want any other turtle,” insisted Ryeowook stubbornly, tears forming in his eyes.
“There, there,” Kyuhyun soothed, sounding like he would rather be destroying his own precious game console than offering uncharacteristic words of comfort. “Do you know why he rejected you?”
“He said I’m too dependent and I have a lot of issues,” said Ryeowook, feeling the words sting as much as they did the previous night.
“I don’t think you have that many issues,” encouraged Kyuhyun. “Only some. Yesung has more issues than you. I mean, look at his hands. Abnormal how small they are…”
“Thanks a bunch,” muttered Ryeowook.
“But I do see where he’s coming from,” continued Kyuhyun.
Ryeowook stared at Kyuhyun in disbelief, hurt evident on his face. “You’re taking his side? But you don’t even like him.”
Kyuhyun fiddled with the edge of the blanket that was draped over Ryeowook’s lap. “That doesn’t mean what he said wasn’t true. Hear me out,” Kyuhyun quickly added as he saw the angry look on Ryeowook’s face.
Kyuhyun sighed and looked at his best friend’s face, trying to find the right words to say. “Ryeowook, I’ve known you since we were practically in diapers. Never, never have you ever defied your parents even though obeying would be at your expense.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” insisted Ryeowook.
Kyuhyun ticked off his fingers as he started his argument. “You are on student council because your parents told you to run. You stopped piano lessons when they told you it was useless. You agreed to go to business school after graduation. Most importantly, you gave up your lifelong dream of composing-”
“Okay, okay,” Ryeowook cut in. “I get it. Anything else you want to say?”
Kyuhyun’s gaze bore into Ryeowook. “I know it’s probably not my place to say, since I’ve never really understood what goes through that guy’s head, but maybe Yesung is trying to tell you something.”
“Well, he’s certainly being cryptic about it,” grumbled Ryeowook, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Are you happy?” Kyuhyun asked, seemingly out of the blue. “Are you happy with the path that you’re taking?”
“Of course I am,” Ryeowook quickly replied. “This is the best path to take.”
Kyuhyun glared at Ryeowook. “Ryeowook,” he said warningly.
Ryeowook got smaller as Kyuhyun’s gaze intensified. “I-uh-it’s…No,” admitted Ryeowook in defeat. “I’m not happy.”
Kyuhyun nodded as he watched his best friend finally break out of the wall of denial he had been hiding behind.
-
“I love playing the piano,” Ryeowook blurted out during dinner one day. “I want to compose music.”
His parents froze and stared at their nervous son in shock.
-
It was Sunday and somehow Ryeowook found himself in front of a familiar barbershop. Upon leaving the house, his feet led him there. Ryeowook hovered over the door, uncertain if he should go in or not.
Just as he decided to go for it, the door swung open, hitting him square on the forehead.
“Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there! Are you…Ryeowook?”
Ryeowook smiled weakly up at a worried and confused Jongwoon. “Hello.”
“What are you doing here?” asked Jongwoon, pushing Ryeowook’s hand gently aside to observe the damage to his forehead.
“Nothing too serious,” announced Jongwoon, letting his hand fall from Ryeowook’s forehead. Ryeowook felt a sense of lost. “I haven’t seen you in a while,” Jongwoon murmured, looking at Ryeowook’s face as though he was reacquainting himself with the small, sharp features.
Ryeowook took a deep breath and stared confidently into beloved brown eyes. “Hello. My name is Kim Ryeowook. I’m in my last year of high school where I’m currently the vice president of the student council. Even though I will be majoring in business in accordance to my parents’ wishes, music will always be my passion. I hope to one day combine these two to make a successful career.
“I want to live my life with no regrets, but I have a problem. I have fallen in love with a very special guy who likes turtles and touching people’s philtrum. He told me he loves me, but I was kind of messed up then. I was wondering if he still…”
“He’d still if you’d still,” whispered Jongwoon, before swooping in to silence Ryeowook with a kiss.
“I’d still,” said Ryeowook breathlessly when they broke the kiss. “I’d very still.”
-
“I want to compose something right now.”
Jongwoon looked up from his position sprawled out on the couch. “Then go compose something. You know where the piano is.” He waved his hand vaguely towards the corner of the room.
Ryeowook shook his head. “It’s alright. I think I already have it in my head. I just need something to write it down on.”
Jongwoon scratched his head sheepishly. “Sorry Wookie. There’s no more paper in here.”
Ryeowook wondered why he should be surprised. “What did you do with all of it, make a bonfire to toast marshmallows?” he teased.
Jongwoon shook his head, an enigmatic smile on his face. “A beautiful girl came in today. So I sat down with her.”
Ryeowook frowned, trying to quell the feeling of jealousy rising inside. “What did you sit down with this beautiful girl for?”
“I taught her how to fold paper cranes.”
Ryeowook was taken aback, recognizing the symbolism behind the cranes. “Oh,” he said softly, feeling guilty for his prior jealousy. “Did you guys get far?”
“We have exactly 135 pieces of paper in this shop,” Jongwoon informed Ryeowook solemnly. “Well, had.”
Ryeowook nodded. “That’s a lot left to go.”
Jongwoon mirrored Ryeowook’s action. “I know she can do it.” Suddenly, Jongwoon sat up, unbuttoning his black shirt. “Wookie, come here.”
“What are you doing?” asked Ryeowook suspiciously, inching closer. His nervousness increased as Jongwoon tossed his shirt to the side and laid back down on the couch.
“I need a pillow,” said Jongwoon, smiling winningly at the younger.
Misgiving not assuaged, Ryeowook went over to sit on the couch, placing Jongwoon’s head gently on his lap. “Why did you have to take off your shirt?” he questioned. It took all of his self-control to not look at the older man’s delicious abs, strong chest, defined arms…Ryeowook swallowed his excess saliva, hoping Jongwoon didn’t notice.
Jongwoon smirked at his boyfriend’s cuteness and handed him a ball point pen.
Ryeowook accepted the pen, confused. “What is this for?” he asked, rolling the pen between his fingers curiously.
“Compose,” said Jongwoon simply.
“I have no paper,” Ryeowook reminded Jongwoon. Then he understood what Jongwoon was trying to say. “You want me to write on you?” He looked doubtfully at Jongwoon’s lightly tanned skin. “Are you sure?”
Jongwoon reached up and pinched both of Ryeowook’s cheeks, eyes laughing. “Of course I’m sure. Hurry before you forget.”
As Ryeowook painted a world of sharps and flats and treble clefs on the canvas of Jongwoon’s skin, he thought that perhaps one day, he could be as special as the unique man. But for now, in the backroom of a little barbershop where he and Jongwoon had shared so many little moments and would share, no doubt, many more, Ryeowook could say that he had never been happier.
-
A/N: And t-t-t-that's all folks! I hope you liked this story. I really liked writing this (oddly more than I Love You). And, um, concerning Jongwoon's past, if you go back and piece together all the implications, you can get the basic idea. It was intentionally left ambiguous...Okay, that's a lie! The truth is, I got so caught up while writing this, I completely forgot to put in an explaination! I was thinking about writing a short one-shot that would explore Jongwoon's past a bit. What do you guys think?