Untitled; Jonghyun/Minho
Title: Untitled
Pairing: Jonghyun/Minho
Rating: G
Word count: 1,200 words
Summary It's been a couple of years.
Prompt: #6: Jonghyun/Minho or Minho/Key; "Few buildings, few lives are built so well even their ruins are beautiful."
"So this is weird."
Minho frowns, and when his hand sinks down in his pocket, it hits fabric and not the old key that he'd reminded himself this morning to bring. It's been a couple of years. Changing locks is cheap, but time-consuming. If he remembers correctly, the person who manages the apartment had a favorite activity called never getting off his ass.
"When you say it's weird, that's when it gets weird," Minho mumbles, due to half-thought. The key is still not being brandished between his fingers, but that's not really as annoying as Jonghyun pulling his own key out. Both of their keys have rust that look around to be the same age.
"I brought mine, too." Jonghyun dangles his own spare key in front of Minho, smiling. Then that smile lessens in width and the key disappears inside the lock. "I wouldn't have bothered bringing it if I knew you were also coming by."
Minho shrugs, and closes his eyes for a second. Hears the sound of the door unlocking sharply in his ears.
"It's not like these things get organized," Minho says, following after Jonghyun. He nearly crashes right into Jonghyun, who chooses to plant his feet right after taking a step inside. "What-"
Jonghyun holds a finger to his mouth, eyes as big as ever. "We don't know if people are living here."
"It smells like mothballs," Minho says, but lets Jonghyun continue roaming the place with his vision rather than his legs.
They stay frozen in the spot they're in. Minho's gotten expert practice on not breathing loudly. Pay close attention to the walls until Kibum walks out the door at night. Tiptoe over to the door quickly to press the ear with good hearing against it, searching for sounds that could give away Kibum having a secret girlfriend. He and Jonghyun aren't new to this. Their bones are, however, exceeding the age limit to participate in these things.
"Nobody's living here," Jonghyun says.
Minho places a hand in the middle of Jonghyun's back, fingers meeting the threads of a winter coat that's a different size from 20 year old Jonghyun. Then he shoves Jonghyun forward, and laughs at how quickly he has to step so he doesn't end up twisting his legs. It looks like horrible choreography that Rino thinks of after working on several projects, the kind that gets inspired by the last juices of creativity she would have left after working for weeks.
"It's been a few years, and you still act the same," Jonghyun says, returning the favor by shoving Minho in the shoulder, the only place he can reach. Minho stumbles back an inch.
"It takes a while for things to change," Minho says, shrugging his shoulders. "Except for our concepts, remember?"
Jonghyun laughs, letting rip a carefree laugh that echoes in the empty hallway. "From pedobait to demons. I remember."
Minho's mouth has some trouble stretching open to laugh. He forgot that Jonghyun was funny.
"It's weird," Jonghyun looks around them.
"What's weird?" Minho asks.
Jonghyun bends down and unlaces the shoes he's wearing. He slips one off, and the other, placing them in a spot against the wall. He stands back up and looks down at their position. "I remember putting my shoes there-" he stabs a finger at the empty space next to it. "-and you would fling your shoes there."
"I don't think they were always there," Minho protests.
"Then explain my shoes always getting dirty and smelling like sweaty feet before. You know I don't play sports," Jonghyun says. Minho shakes his head and chooses not to egg on the subject matter. He walks away from Jonghyun, and ends up leaning on a bare wall in the kitchen. He closes his eyes because the lack of tables and half-eaten snacks gives him a minor headache.
"We would all sit down and eat together," Jonghyun says, gazing at each bare-faced wall up and down. "They forced it on us at first, but management gave up after a week went by."
"Because it turned into a routine," Minho chimes in. He points his head sideways, and opens his eyes. Finds Jonghyun staring menacingly at the unused oven.
"I still order out most of my food," Jonghyun says, supplying Minho with an idea of how his life must be like. He counts up things that probably aren't included in the separate lives they lead now: different collections of shoes that clash in color, shortages of food after a growling stomach went in and out of the kitchen, wall outlets crowded with plugs leading to charging mp3 players, the smell of ramyun wafting away the smell of performance sweat...
"I'm bored," Minho says. "Want to see if anything happened to our old room?"
Jonghyun leads the way. He almost opens the door to the bathroom, and Minho calls him out for it by laughing out the word "retard." The bathroom door slams and closes off Jonghyun's red-faced reflection in the soap scum-dotted mirror.
"Weird to not see bunk beds in here," Minho says. He pokes his head inside the room, the correct room, but doesn't set foot in it. Neither does Jonghyun, who decides to press up against Minho's side to sneak a glance for himself. Minho wrinkles his nose, but this only gets more of Jonghyun's hair trying to get inside his nostril.
"Even when we come back to this room, you still have to bug me in some way," Minho says. Jonghyun rips apart from him, and Minho can't feel his jacket weighing down his arm anymore.
"Well, sorry," Jonghyun huffs.
"Apology accepted."
"No, it's not that." Jonghyun holds up his wrist, and but the time blinking on his watch is unreadable in this light. "I have to go now. Got lots of things on my schedule. I could barely squeeze in the time to come here today."
"I guess I'm unlucky for choosing today to come," Minho teases, smiling. "Go if you have things to do."
"I will. One of these days, I'll make a song and dedicate it to your future child."
"Cool. One of these days, I'll turn on the radio and listen to it."
Minho is left alone by himself after Jonghyun leaves saying goodbye. He stands there, trying to issue "goodbye" rolling off of Jonghyun's tongue in his mind, but it's something that sounds too foreign. Like all the garbled words that Yoogeun would spit out back then and they couldn't understand him enough to know whether he wanted Minho or Jonghyun to hold him. Minho can't remember how they chose who got to hold him. He kind of remembers Jonghyun worming into the embrace, but doesn't search too far in his memory to confirm the memory. Jonghyun's smile after he waited for Minho to shake him off Yoogeun, but never did, is evidence enough.
He looks around the room one more time, then leaves. He tries not to open his eyes for long while walking down the hallway, avoiding eye contact with anything. He's got an irrational fear that he'll lose all he's remembered today from looking too long at something else, acting desperate to keep Jonghyun in his mind where he hasn't been for the past few years. This makes him feel guiltier than not picking up his phone that's buzzing in his pocket, the call that's coming from his girlfriend.
Pairing: Jonghyun/Minho
Rating: G
Word count: 1,200 words
Summary It's been a couple of years.
Prompt: #6: Jonghyun/Minho or Minho/Key; "Few buildings, few lives are built so well even their ruins are beautiful."
"So this is weird."
Minho frowns, and when his hand sinks down in his pocket, it hits fabric and not the old key that he'd reminded himself this morning to bring. It's been a couple of years. Changing locks is cheap, but time-consuming. If he remembers correctly, the person who manages the apartment had a favorite activity called never getting off his ass.
"When you say it's weird, that's when it gets weird," Minho mumbles, due to half-thought. The key is still not being brandished between his fingers, but that's not really as annoying as Jonghyun pulling his own key out. Both of their keys have rust that look around to be the same age.
"I brought mine, too." Jonghyun dangles his own spare key in front of Minho, smiling. Then that smile lessens in width and the key disappears inside the lock. "I wouldn't have bothered bringing it if I knew you were also coming by."
Minho shrugs, and closes his eyes for a second. Hears the sound of the door unlocking sharply in his ears.
"It's not like these things get organized," Minho says, following after Jonghyun. He nearly crashes right into Jonghyun, who chooses to plant his feet right after taking a step inside. "What-"
Jonghyun holds a finger to his mouth, eyes as big as ever. "We don't know if people are living here."
"It smells like mothballs," Minho says, but lets Jonghyun continue roaming the place with his vision rather than his legs.
They stay frozen in the spot they're in. Minho's gotten expert practice on not breathing loudly. Pay close attention to the walls until Kibum walks out the door at night. Tiptoe over to the door quickly to press the ear with good hearing against it, searching for sounds that could give away Kibum having a secret girlfriend. He and Jonghyun aren't new to this. Their bones are, however, exceeding the age limit to participate in these things.
"Nobody's living here," Jonghyun says.
Minho places a hand in the middle of Jonghyun's back, fingers meeting the threads of a winter coat that's a different size from 20 year old Jonghyun. Then he shoves Jonghyun forward, and laughs at how quickly he has to step so he doesn't end up twisting his legs. It looks like horrible choreography that Rino thinks of after working on several projects, the kind that gets inspired by the last juices of creativity she would have left after working for weeks.
"It's been a few years, and you still act the same," Jonghyun says, returning the favor by shoving Minho in the shoulder, the only place he can reach. Minho stumbles back an inch.
"It takes a while for things to change," Minho says, shrugging his shoulders. "Except for our concepts, remember?"
Jonghyun laughs, letting rip a carefree laugh that echoes in the empty hallway. "From pedobait to demons. I remember."
Minho's mouth has some trouble stretching open to laugh. He forgot that Jonghyun was funny.
"It's weird," Jonghyun looks around them.
"What's weird?" Minho asks.
Jonghyun bends down and unlaces the shoes he's wearing. He slips one off, and the other, placing them in a spot against the wall. He stands back up and looks down at their position. "I remember putting my shoes there-" he stabs a finger at the empty space next to it. "-and you would fling your shoes there."
"I don't think they were always there," Minho protests.
"Then explain my shoes always getting dirty and smelling like sweaty feet before. You know I don't play sports," Jonghyun says. Minho shakes his head and chooses not to egg on the subject matter. He walks away from Jonghyun, and ends up leaning on a bare wall in the kitchen. He closes his eyes because the lack of tables and half-eaten snacks gives him a minor headache.
"We would all sit down and eat together," Jonghyun says, gazing at each bare-faced wall up and down. "They forced it on us at first, but management gave up after a week went by."
"Because it turned into a routine," Minho chimes in. He points his head sideways, and opens his eyes. Finds Jonghyun staring menacingly at the unused oven.
"I still order out most of my food," Jonghyun says, supplying Minho with an idea of how his life must be like. He counts up things that probably aren't included in the separate lives they lead now: different collections of shoes that clash in color, shortages of food after a growling stomach went in and out of the kitchen, wall outlets crowded with plugs leading to charging mp3 players, the smell of ramyun wafting away the smell of performance sweat...
"I'm bored," Minho says. "Want to see if anything happened to our old room?"
Jonghyun leads the way. He almost opens the door to the bathroom, and Minho calls him out for it by laughing out the word "retard." The bathroom door slams and closes off Jonghyun's red-faced reflection in the soap scum-dotted mirror.
"Weird to not see bunk beds in here," Minho says. He pokes his head inside the room, the correct room, but doesn't set foot in it. Neither does Jonghyun, who decides to press up against Minho's side to sneak a glance for himself. Minho wrinkles his nose, but this only gets more of Jonghyun's hair trying to get inside his nostril.
"Even when we come back to this room, you still have to bug me in some way," Minho says. Jonghyun rips apart from him, and Minho can't feel his jacket weighing down his arm anymore.
"Well, sorry," Jonghyun huffs.
"Apology accepted."
"No, it's not that." Jonghyun holds up his wrist, and but the time blinking on his watch is unreadable in this light. "I have to go now. Got lots of things on my schedule. I could barely squeeze in the time to come here today."
"I guess I'm unlucky for choosing today to come," Minho teases, smiling. "Go if you have things to do."
"I will. One of these days, I'll make a song and dedicate it to your future child."
"Cool. One of these days, I'll turn on the radio and listen to it."
Minho is left alone by himself after Jonghyun leaves saying goodbye. He stands there, trying to issue "goodbye" rolling off of Jonghyun's tongue in his mind, but it's something that sounds too foreign. Like all the garbled words that Yoogeun would spit out back then and they couldn't understand him enough to know whether he wanted Minho or Jonghyun to hold him. Minho can't remember how they chose who got to hold him. He kind of remembers Jonghyun worming into the embrace, but doesn't search too far in his memory to confirm the memory. Jonghyun's smile after he waited for Minho to shake him off Yoogeun, but never did, is evidence enough.
He looks around the room one more time, then leaves. He tries not to open his eyes for long while walking down the hallway, avoiding eye contact with anything. He's got an irrational fear that he'll lose all he's remembered today from looking too long at something else, acting desperate to keep Jonghyun in his mind where he hasn't been for the past few years. This makes him feel guiltier than not picking up his phone that's buzzing in his pocket, the call that's coming from his girlfriend.