bromance (3)
jaemin.
pg-13.
3119 words.
an apartment standing on the corner of wall-street, shrouded by the colours of the reeses' pieces: yellow, white, black, and orange. wait a second, those are people. people. asian, caucasian, african, and...mexican, is it? jaejoong's not entirely sure, these are all bits and pieces of things he's heard around, about this day-dreaming, free-willed country U.S.A. also known as the United States of America, he thinks proudly to himself. oh, the places he yearns to go.
"jaejoong." changmin says, turning his head, stopping those miles-long legs. it's late, the clock having struck midnight just minutes ago. they're heading back home to apartment 118, just recently having finished up from drinks with the other three. he watches the street lights shine a yellow glow, emanating an eerie, something's-about-to-come-out-of-the-bushes feeling. he glances at changmin, watches as the sharpness of his cheek bones stand more prominently under it. he honestly looks something sort of frightening there. "what are you doing." he eyes him curiously, an eyebrow quirked up, perturbed.
"o-oh, i was, i was uh...." he stops, looks up, craning his neck. the stars glimmer brightly above, well, the few that he's able to see. an idea pops in his head. "-the stars," he says, pointing upward. "i was looking at the pretty, glowy stars. so pretty." he grins stupidly up at them, raising an index finger and poking at one, another, another. he's so close, if only he could reach-
roughly changmin grabs him by the arm, dragging him down the sidewalk. he trips after, trying though failing to walk correctly on his two left feet. sighing, the brunet-haired man pulls harder, ignoring the drunken, slurred protests from his roommate.
- - - -
he smiles with pure-happiness spilling from his expression. it actually happened, he realizes. i actually got married. he turns his head toward her, momentarily dismissing the insightful words of the celebrant before them. the soft white veil covers over her brunet-coloured hair, just about hiding the warm, gentle smile he knows is painted on her lips. he hears the final words, watches with mounting excitement as she turns towards him. he lifts the veil.
screaming, he bolts upright and jumbles out of bed. ass now thoroughly sore, he blankly stares at the ridged edges of the white wall across from him, sitting up with hands standing stationary beside him. breathe, he tells himself, breathe. a steady beat of man in the mirror exhales and inhales out of him, he's calmed down somewhat now. the crazy-eyes remain, however.
the loud bang of the door jolts him, turning to face a worried-looking changmin. his hair is an absolute bed-head mess on his head, similar to a bird's nest, though he really shouldn't be saying that. his clothes don't seem to fare well either, noticing the way his pajama bottoms are still around his ankles.
"what? what happened?" he quickly, loudly, concernedly asks. moving closer, he crouches down, shaking jaejoong's shoulders and therefore snapping him from his two-second reverie.
"you," he points accusingly at him, all the while propelling himself further away, scrambling with his feet till his back hit the base of the bed. "you." he repeats.
"what? did i do something wrong?" he questions, aflutter. he takes notice of an open drawer; his nightstand. shit. "shit, jaejoong. i'm so sorry. was that your favorite lube or somethi-"
"what? no, no. you." he accuses again. "you were in my dream. and you-i-i was gonna marry you." he shivers at the words, then readies himself for a long, continuous rambling ( flying at the speeds 100 mph or more-probably more ). "first it was a good dream and i was marrying my dream girl and she looked so pretty and beautiful and all that shit and that guy-who-marries-us finishes up his damn-long speech and tells me to 'kiss the bride' ( he air-quotes around that ) and she's all turning dramatically and the veil's covering her face so i lift it and then." he stops. deep breath. index finger extended as he confirms his final words. "it was you. suddenly you were there all dark-brown with your equally-brown curly-ass hair smiling down at me-down-and then-then-"
"-i woke up." he exhales, chest falling, never-ending story ( oh. right. there's a movie about that ) complete.
changmin's staring at him, wide-eyed and looking equally similar to jaejoong's previously psychotic composure. "you're-you're not in love with me are you?" he looks afraid of the answer.
"no. no." he repeats again, eyes locked onto his ( avoiding eye-contact is a sign of dishonesty, he'd heard ) . "hell, fucking no."
"oh." he sighs in relief. "then i don't see what the problem is, then." flippantly turning away, he walks down the hall and into the open bathroom door, jaejoong blankly watching him disappear. what. that's all i get? that was it?
"wait," jaejoong realizes, previous avowals coming to his attention ( the look on his face just an added hint ). he rushes to his feet. "wait did you just say you used my lube? my lube?"
jumping to his feet, he rushes towards the bathroom. door locked, he bangs resoundingly upon it. "changmin." he shouts. "changmin." no response. he groans, sliding down the door. "that was the fruity-smelling one," he whispers, "those ones are expensive." ( the smell makes it more real, he insists )
- - - -
( current time: two o' clock in the afternoon. at least, he assumes so )
hangover in the living room. oh, what fun. he surveys his surroundings, takes in the occasionally blurring images of a simple black leather couch ( black leather arm-chair included ), a glass coffee table, and a 32-inch wide-screen television hanging on the wall. the floor lamp is disregarded, as it is beside the large window expelling blinding rays of sunlight through opaque blinds. no need to look at bright shining lights at the moment. and yes, he knows it's a pretty simple set-up, but they're men, what d'you expect?
jaejoong sits, comfortably upon previously-introduced couch, fingers rubbing soothing circles around his temple. he hunches over, groaning at the momentary increase of pain. "shit," he swears. why the hell does it have to hurt so much?
changmin saunters over, handing him a warm cup of black tea, setting the advil and glass of water on the coffee table. he settles himself at the far-end of the couch, arms draping over either side. a pointed moue is splattered across his face."why do you have to drink so much? because of you i always end up having to be the sober one dragging you home."
immediately he laughs, ( for about the fiftieth time today ) raising his head back and cackling hysterically. the sharp pain arrives a second later, reversing him back to his previous, groaning state.
the other smirks pridefully at him. "and that's what you get."
"it's not my fault," he groans again. "every time you do something remotely cute-which, by the way, i do not in any possible way, find cute-i think of you in that dress with the thing on your head and smiling all girly," he chortles once more. "and my god, you have no idea how hilarious that is. i mean you. shim changmin. in a dress. a fucking bridal dress. hilarious. which, i would like to add, though mean nothing by it, looked pretty good on you. keep the option of drag queen in your future career choices open. believe me, you'd do fantast-"
"fucking hell if you weren't so hungover right now i'd punch you in the face," changmin spits back at him, "i'm leaving. call me if you need anything." grabbing his keys, he pulls over a jacket and strides out the door. "and this is what i get for putting up with your sorry-ass fa...." the intended-to-not-be-heard-by-jaejoong mutterings follow along with him.
"well then. if that's how you really feel." he shouts at empty space, "i-ow. ow-ow-ow." rubbing at his temples once more, he carefully lies down. "why was i blessed to be such a lively, out-going, lovable person."
- - - -
the day drawls mind-numbingly slow, jaejoong finding himself with nothing to do. he paces randomly about the house, experiments a bit in the kitchen ( "oh, god this tastes like shit." he says, spitting it out with a sour look ), sneakily browses through changmin's computer files ( "shit there is so much porn in here," his mouth open as he flips through every video file. he shakes his head, frowning, recalling previous advice. "desperate, so desperate. why the hell is he refusing? he's so damn horny...." ), and-oh. right. that phone number.
fishing through his dirty laundry, he pulls out last night's jeans and reaches into the front pocket. nothing. he reaches into the other pocket. the other. the other.
ah shit.
without a second thought, he calls changmin. the ringer goes on for a few minutes time, no pick up. he tries again. same. damn it.
- - - -
evening. it is evening. where is changmin. he paces timelessly around the coffee table, wearing an anxious expression all the while. finally, he stops, dropping onto the couch and sighing exasperatedly. damn him. he didn't even tell me where he went.
half an hour later, passed out on the couch, drool dribbling down the side of his face, the door resonates a soft click. his eyes flash open at the sound, quickly he sits up. changmin waltzes in, hands in the pockets of his jacket. kicking the door closed, he toes of his shoes and looks up, surprised. "hey."
"where the fuck have you been all day?"
- - - -
a slight shiver passes through him as he pauses at the door, fishing for his keys and pulling them out of his jacket pocket. swiftly, he twists the lock, then grabbing the knob and pushing the door open. immediate warmth envelops him, a quiet sigh of relief the only inference. toeing off his shoes and whistling carelessly, he takes no realization of the other, quite blithering man pacing back-and-forth before him.
"where the fuck of have you been all day?"
he stops mid-whistle, takes in the appearance of the fumbling, quite disarrayed man in curiosity. innocent eyebrows raise up at the other, obviously having no idea what the hell he'd done wrong. "library," he deadpans flippantly, pulling off his jacket and throwing it over a chair.
"why weren't you picking up your damn phone?" another question, slightly angry, maybe, however a red-face, panting jaejoong is anything but intimidating. more like, amusing, really.
"you look like you've run a marathon," he says, throwing the keys on the coffee table, walking past jaejoong and deliberately avoiding his annoying. grabbing the hems of his shirt, he swiftly pulls it off, then following with the rest of his ensemble. he flings them through his open bedroom door, left with nothing but boxers and a towel as he makes way to shower.
the incessant nagging following behind is just a soft purr to his ears. smirking, he slams the door shut, ignores the banging and screaming from the other side, and loses himself in warm, cascading veils of water ( after checking himself oh-so pleasingly in the mirror, fawning over the lines of muscles and tendons sculpting his body. a closet narcissistic? oh yes, he is. )
- - - -
ten minutes later, he's out with a towel around his waist and a still-waiting, ready-mouthed jaejoong stopping him short.
"you know, i really hate you sometimes." a pointed moue is painted across his face, arms clenched tightly at his sides, the only indication of hidden anger through his easy, gentle voice.
with a slight quirk of the lips, changmin mockingly hovers over him. "and really, i couldn't be more happy that you do." side-stepping in the span of a confused-then-frustrated jaejoong, he pads into his room and fleetly dons a pair of pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt.
noticing the sudden disappearance of the other, he skittishly walks to the living room, finding said man breathing deeply and sitting cross-legged on the couch.
"hey."
"..."
"hey, i can talk now. what is it." a tinge of smart-ass tainting his words.
"..."
sighing, the younger flops lazily next to him, remote in hand and skillfully flipping through t.v. channels. "what's for dinner," he starts again, welcomed with another bout of silence. "jaejoong."
"..."
"jaejoong, come on."
"..."
"seriously, hyung," he tries desperately, facing the other pleadingly, hunger having taken control. "what's for dinner."
jaejoong peeks through with a cautious, measuring squint, though only lasting for a few-second time before hearty laugh fills his throat. "your face," he chuckles, "you look like a kicked puppy."
a blank stare and a deadpan response is all he gets. "this is what happens when i don't get food. so go. make me food."
"ha." the other points a finger in the air, realizing the task at hand with mocking surprise. "right." he makes to get up, only to further himself into a more comfortable position and stare disinterestedly at the t.v. "i'll do that."
"so did you call her yet."
widening eyes and an aghast expression. "oh fuck." immediately he runs off, changmin watching with amusement. he waits, a few minutes is all it takes, and smiles over-politely at the return of the slumped, pissed-off man shuffling over.
"give it to me." he mutters threateningly.
"give what." the younger questions, peering up at him 'innocently.'
"don't mess with me. give it."
"food." he retaliates.
that does it. that really, honestly pushes him over. "i have waited fucking long enough to get what i need from you. give me the fucking number now before i-"
"okay okay." game now undeniably over, he raises his hands in surrender before revealing a small, folded paper between his fingers.
"finally." he snatches the paper, stalking off and away.
- - - -
"the date has been set." smiling rather gleefully, he strides in with confidence and arrogance in every step.
changmin lazily sneaks a glance, rolling his eyes at the stupid expression splashed across his face. with his knees pulled up, head resting upon them, he flips through channels uninterestedly, arm extended. he feels the slight dip of the couch next to him, groans at the loud rumble of his stomach.
jaejoong comprehends immediately. "oh. right. food."
the instant burst of happiness emanating from the younger has him smiling in amusement.
- - - -
ten minutes in, changmin's back to his usual sarcastic composure, tapping his chopsticks impatiently as he waits.
"stop, damn it," jaejoong curses to him. "i'm making art," he explains, continuing skillfully with his ministrations.
the taller ignores, decisively asking a question instead. "how much longer."
a mere few seconds pass until he hears the stove sound off. "done," jaejoong says seriously, still intent on finishing last minute preparations on the meal.
sliding it onto the table, he smirks with amusement at the wide-eyed, mouth-watering expression upon changmin's face. mesmerized, the younger mechanically picks up his chopsticks, carefully taking a bit of the noodle and placing it in his mouth. a sigh of content passing through his lips is all the affirmative jaejoong needs ( though he's not surprised )
halfway through, feeling the other has become sated enough to contribute to easy-going conversation, he renews the previous talk. "so about the date," the older says, slipping into a chair.
"mm," changmin hums in response, a sign of acknowledgement, urging him to continue.
"friday. seven o' clock. seoul cinema." the older lists, excitement and anticipation running through his features ( as subtle as he tries to be )
"what movie." the other asks, mid-way through a mouthful. ( all thoughts of well-mannered behavior disappear when eating such delicious food )
scrunching his face slightly in disgust, jaejoong replies, "don't know. it's a 'surprise.'" air-quoting the final word, he watches with even greater aversion as changmin stuffs more into his already-full mouth. "shit, man. i know my food is good, but really, stop devouring it like an animal."
the younger just shrugs his shoulders. "does it matter," he blankly states, "it's only you. not like i'm dining with some really sexy chick with boobs and an ass." he voices the last few words as if such a girl is even existent in this world. or really, asian. and living in south korea. only in my dreams. he thinks, inwardly shrugging his shoulders in dismay.
ignoring his last statement, jaejoong changes directions, moving on to a much-needed-to-be-pointed-out-at-the-moment question. "now, you know what's missing from this? you know what is missing from this oh-so sexy equation?" he questions dramatically, referring to him and jessica ( he sighs dreamily at the name ) as the 'oh-so sexy equation.' "a girl. you know, pale, dark long hair, pretty, crazy skinny and all delicate and shit? the type of girl i assume-no, know you're really into? yeah, that one."
changmin only grunts.
"and once you get that girl," he goes on, "we can double-date. double-date. and then i won't be alone, forced to watch some chick-flick with the typical, stupid-ass, popular pretty boy falling for the nobody girl he'd never go for." having finished with ranting, he sighs deeply, eyes shut as he lulls his head back.
- - - -
the rest of the week passes by with a dead-tiring slowness, jaejoong itching impatiently for it to come to an end. once friday rolls by, he's at his limit.
"work is too boring for us." he says lackadaisically, as the two walk out and away from the office to the nearest metro.
"you say that every time we clock out." changmin claims unabashedly, walking with casual step.
"why? because it's true. we were born to do bigger, better, things. not work an 8-hour desk-job with a pay as shitty as ever."
"you get paid two million won a year."
"and your point."
that's a freaking huge-ass amount. "i'm an intern. i don't even get paid." and i work harder than you, he adds bitterly.
"details, details," he waves, shaking his head flippantly. "either way, it's still shitty."
"only to you."
"okay, fine," he stops, raising a hand, and gesturing to himself. "it might, just might, be just me. but then again i'm talking to you of all people and really that's nothing much to go by."
"sometimes i find you to be too damn blunt for your own good."
"but that's why you love me right." jaejoong stops, hands under his chin and eyelashes batting in what changmin gauges as a failed attempt at being cute. he laughs, turns his head from side-to-side and walks off with a fumbling jaejoong trailing behind ( "-the hell, man. answer the question. it's the only way my distilled heart will ever find peace." )
<</>>→▬←
well hello there. yes i took forever to post this. yes this isn't named yet. i'll get there in due time. believe it or not. the motivation to continue vanished. wrote this before it did, and was planning on posting after i get a few more chapters ready. that didn't happen. so this my attempt to bring the motivation back. thank you for reading :)
pg-13.
3119 words.
an apartment standing on the corner of wall-street, shrouded by the colours of the reeses' pieces: yellow, white, black, and orange. wait a second, those are people. people. asian, caucasian, african, and...mexican, is it? jaejoong's not entirely sure, these are all bits and pieces of things he's heard around, about this day-dreaming, free-willed country U.S.A. also known as the United States of America, he thinks proudly to himself. oh, the places he yearns to go.
"jaejoong." changmin says, turning his head, stopping those miles-long legs. it's late, the clock having struck midnight just minutes ago. they're heading back home to apartment 118, just recently having finished up from drinks with the other three. he watches the street lights shine a yellow glow, emanating an eerie, something's-about-to-come-out-of-the-bushes feeling. he glances at changmin, watches as the sharpness of his cheek bones stand more prominently under it. he honestly looks something sort of frightening there. "what are you doing." he eyes him curiously, an eyebrow quirked up, perturbed.
"o-oh, i was, i was uh...." he stops, looks up, craning his neck. the stars glimmer brightly above, well, the few that he's able to see. an idea pops in his head. "-the stars," he says, pointing upward. "i was looking at the pretty, glowy stars. so pretty." he grins stupidly up at them, raising an index finger and poking at one, another, another. he's so close, if only he could reach-
roughly changmin grabs him by the arm, dragging him down the sidewalk. he trips after, trying though failing to walk correctly on his two left feet. sighing, the brunet-haired man pulls harder, ignoring the drunken, slurred protests from his roommate.
- - - -
he smiles with pure-happiness spilling from his expression. it actually happened, he realizes. i actually got married. he turns his head toward her, momentarily dismissing the insightful words of the celebrant before them. the soft white veil covers over her brunet-coloured hair, just about hiding the warm, gentle smile he knows is painted on her lips. he hears the final words, watches with mounting excitement as she turns towards him. he lifts the veil.
screaming, he bolts upright and jumbles out of bed. ass now thoroughly sore, he blankly stares at the ridged edges of the white wall across from him, sitting up with hands standing stationary beside him. breathe, he tells himself, breathe. a steady beat of man in the mirror exhales and inhales out of him, he's calmed down somewhat now. the crazy-eyes remain, however.
the loud bang of the door jolts him, turning to face a worried-looking changmin. his hair is an absolute bed-head mess on his head, similar to a bird's nest, though he really shouldn't be saying that. his clothes don't seem to fare well either, noticing the way his pajama bottoms are still around his ankles.
"what? what happened?" he quickly, loudly, concernedly asks. moving closer, he crouches down, shaking jaejoong's shoulders and therefore snapping him from his two-second reverie.
"you," he points accusingly at him, all the while propelling himself further away, scrambling with his feet till his back hit the base of the bed. "you." he repeats.
"what? did i do something wrong?" he questions, aflutter. he takes notice of an open drawer; his nightstand. shit. "shit, jaejoong. i'm so sorry. was that your favorite lube or somethi-"
"what? no, no. you." he accuses again. "you were in my dream. and you-i-i was gonna marry you." he shivers at the words, then readies himself for a long, continuous rambling ( flying at the speeds 100 mph or more-probably more ). "first it was a good dream and i was marrying my dream girl and she looked so pretty and beautiful and all that shit and that guy-who-marries-us finishes up his damn-long speech and tells me to 'kiss the bride' ( he air-quotes around that ) and she's all turning dramatically and the veil's covering her face so i lift it and then." he stops. deep breath. index finger extended as he confirms his final words. "it was you. suddenly you were there all dark-brown with your equally-brown curly-ass hair smiling down at me-down-and then-then-"
"-i woke up." he exhales, chest falling, never-ending story ( oh. right. there's a movie about that ) complete.
changmin's staring at him, wide-eyed and looking equally similar to jaejoong's previously psychotic composure. "you're-you're not in love with me are you?" he looks afraid of the answer.
"no. no." he repeats again, eyes locked onto his ( avoiding eye-contact is a sign of dishonesty, he'd heard ) . "hell, fucking no."
"oh." he sighs in relief. "then i don't see what the problem is, then." flippantly turning away, he walks down the hall and into the open bathroom door, jaejoong blankly watching him disappear. what. that's all i get? that was it?
"wait," jaejoong realizes, previous avowals coming to his attention ( the look on his face just an added hint ). he rushes to his feet. "wait did you just say you used my lube? my lube?"
jumping to his feet, he rushes towards the bathroom. door locked, he bangs resoundingly upon it. "changmin." he shouts. "changmin." no response. he groans, sliding down the door. "that was the fruity-smelling one," he whispers, "those ones are expensive." ( the smell makes it more real, he insists )
- - - -
( current time: two o' clock in the afternoon. at least, he assumes so )
hangover in the living room. oh, what fun. he surveys his surroundings, takes in the occasionally blurring images of a simple black leather couch ( black leather arm-chair included ), a glass coffee table, and a 32-inch wide-screen television hanging on the wall. the floor lamp is disregarded, as it is beside the large window expelling blinding rays of sunlight through opaque blinds. no need to look at bright shining lights at the moment. and yes, he knows it's a pretty simple set-up, but they're men, what d'you expect?
jaejoong sits, comfortably upon previously-introduced couch, fingers rubbing soothing circles around his temple. he hunches over, groaning at the momentary increase of pain. "shit," he swears. why the hell does it have to hurt so much?
changmin saunters over, handing him a warm cup of black tea, setting the advil and glass of water on the coffee table. he settles himself at the far-end of the couch, arms draping over either side. a pointed moue is splattered across his face."why do you have to drink so much? because of you i always end up having to be the sober one dragging you home."
immediately he laughs, ( for about the fiftieth time today ) raising his head back and cackling hysterically. the sharp pain arrives a second later, reversing him back to his previous, groaning state.
the other smirks pridefully at him. "and that's what you get."
"it's not my fault," he groans again. "every time you do something remotely cute-which, by the way, i do not in any possible way, find cute-i think of you in that dress with the thing on your head and smiling all girly," he chortles once more. "and my god, you have no idea how hilarious that is. i mean you. shim changmin. in a dress. a fucking bridal dress. hilarious. which, i would like to add, though mean nothing by it, looked pretty good on you. keep the option of drag queen in your future career choices open. believe me, you'd do fantast-"
"fucking hell if you weren't so hungover right now i'd punch you in the face," changmin spits back at him, "i'm leaving. call me if you need anything." grabbing his keys, he pulls over a jacket and strides out the door. "and this is what i get for putting up with your sorry-ass fa...." the intended-to-not-be-heard-by-jaejoong mutterings follow along with him.
"well then. if that's how you really feel." he shouts at empty space, "i-ow. ow-ow-ow." rubbing at his temples once more, he carefully lies down. "why was i blessed to be such a lively, out-going, lovable person."
- - - -
the day drawls mind-numbingly slow, jaejoong finding himself with nothing to do. he paces randomly about the house, experiments a bit in the kitchen ( "oh, god this tastes like shit." he says, spitting it out with a sour look ), sneakily browses through changmin's computer files ( "shit there is so much porn in here," his mouth open as he flips through every video file. he shakes his head, frowning, recalling previous advice. "desperate, so desperate. why the hell is he refusing? he's so damn horny...." ), and-oh. right. that phone number.
fishing through his dirty laundry, he pulls out last night's jeans and reaches into the front pocket. nothing. he reaches into the other pocket. the other. the other.
ah shit.
without a second thought, he calls changmin. the ringer goes on for a few minutes time, no pick up. he tries again. same. damn it.
- - - -
evening. it is evening. where is changmin. he paces timelessly around the coffee table, wearing an anxious expression all the while. finally, he stops, dropping onto the couch and sighing exasperatedly. damn him. he didn't even tell me where he went.
half an hour later, passed out on the couch, drool dribbling down the side of his face, the door resonates a soft click. his eyes flash open at the sound, quickly he sits up. changmin waltzes in, hands in the pockets of his jacket. kicking the door closed, he toes of his shoes and looks up, surprised. "hey."
"where the fuck have you been all day?"
- - - -
a slight shiver passes through him as he pauses at the door, fishing for his keys and pulling them out of his jacket pocket. swiftly, he twists the lock, then grabbing the knob and pushing the door open. immediate warmth envelops him, a quiet sigh of relief the only inference. toeing off his shoes and whistling carelessly, he takes no realization of the other, quite blithering man pacing back-and-forth before him.
"where the fuck of have you been all day?"
he stops mid-whistle, takes in the appearance of the fumbling, quite disarrayed man in curiosity. innocent eyebrows raise up at the other, obviously having no idea what the hell he'd done wrong. "library," he deadpans flippantly, pulling off his jacket and throwing it over a chair.
"why weren't you picking up your damn phone?" another question, slightly angry, maybe, however a red-face, panting jaejoong is anything but intimidating. more like, amusing, really.
"you look like you've run a marathon," he says, throwing the keys on the coffee table, walking past jaejoong and deliberately avoiding his annoying. grabbing the hems of his shirt, he swiftly pulls it off, then following with the rest of his ensemble. he flings them through his open bedroom door, left with nothing but boxers and a towel as he makes way to shower.
the incessant nagging following behind is just a soft purr to his ears. smirking, he slams the door shut, ignores the banging and screaming from the other side, and loses himself in warm, cascading veils of water ( after checking himself oh-so pleasingly in the mirror, fawning over the lines of muscles and tendons sculpting his body. a closet narcissistic? oh yes, he is. )
- - - -
ten minutes later, he's out with a towel around his waist and a still-waiting, ready-mouthed jaejoong stopping him short.
"you know, i really hate you sometimes." a pointed moue is painted across his face, arms clenched tightly at his sides, the only indication of hidden anger through his easy, gentle voice.
with a slight quirk of the lips, changmin mockingly hovers over him. "and really, i couldn't be more happy that you do." side-stepping in the span of a confused-then-frustrated jaejoong, he pads into his room and fleetly dons a pair of pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt.
noticing the sudden disappearance of the other, he skittishly walks to the living room, finding said man breathing deeply and sitting cross-legged on the couch.
"hey."
"..."
"hey, i can talk now. what is it." a tinge of smart-ass tainting his words.
"..."
sighing, the younger flops lazily next to him, remote in hand and skillfully flipping through t.v. channels. "what's for dinner," he starts again, welcomed with another bout of silence. "jaejoong."
"..."
"jaejoong, come on."
"..."
"seriously, hyung," he tries desperately, facing the other pleadingly, hunger having taken control. "what's for dinner."
jaejoong peeks through with a cautious, measuring squint, though only lasting for a few-second time before hearty laugh fills his throat. "your face," he chuckles, "you look like a kicked puppy."
a blank stare and a deadpan response is all he gets. "this is what happens when i don't get food. so go. make me food."
"ha." the other points a finger in the air, realizing the task at hand with mocking surprise. "right." he makes to get up, only to further himself into a more comfortable position and stare disinterestedly at the t.v. "i'll do that."
"so did you call her yet."
widening eyes and an aghast expression. "oh fuck." immediately he runs off, changmin watching with amusement. he waits, a few minutes is all it takes, and smiles over-politely at the return of the slumped, pissed-off man shuffling over.
"give it to me." he mutters threateningly.
"give what." the younger questions, peering up at him 'innocently.'
"don't mess with me. give it."
"food." he retaliates.
that does it. that really, honestly pushes him over. "i have waited fucking long enough to get what i need from you. give me the fucking number now before i-"
"okay okay." game now undeniably over, he raises his hands in surrender before revealing a small, folded paper between his fingers.
"finally." he snatches the paper, stalking off and away.
- - - -
"the date has been set." smiling rather gleefully, he strides in with confidence and arrogance in every step.
changmin lazily sneaks a glance, rolling his eyes at the stupid expression splashed across his face. with his knees pulled up, head resting upon them, he flips through channels uninterestedly, arm extended. he feels the slight dip of the couch next to him, groans at the loud rumble of his stomach.
jaejoong comprehends immediately. "oh. right. food."
the instant burst of happiness emanating from the younger has him smiling in amusement.
- - - -
ten minutes in, changmin's back to his usual sarcastic composure, tapping his chopsticks impatiently as he waits.
"stop, damn it," jaejoong curses to him. "i'm making art," he explains, continuing skillfully with his ministrations.
the taller ignores, decisively asking a question instead. "how much longer."
a mere few seconds pass until he hears the stove sound off. "done," jaejoong says seriously, still intent on finishing last minute preparations on the meal.
sliding it onto the table, he smirks with amusement at the wide-eyed, mouth-watering expression upon changmin's face. mesmerized, the younger mechanically picks up his chopsticks, carefully taking a bit of the noodle and placing it in his mouth. a sigh of content passing through his lips is all the affirmative jaejoong needs ( though he's not surprised )
halfway through, feeling the other has become sated enough to contribute to easy-going conversation, he renews the previous talk. "so about the date," the older says, slipping into a chair.
"mm," changmin hums in response, a sign of acknowledgement, urging him to continue.
"friday. seven o' clock. seoul cinema." the older lists, excitement and anticipation running through his features ( as subtle as he tries to be )
"what movie." the other asks, mid-way through a mouthful. ( all thoughts of well-mannered behavior disappear when eating such delicious food )
scrunching his face slightly in disgust, jaejoong replies, "don't know. it's a 'surprise.'" air-quoting the final word, he watches with even greater aversion as changmin stuffs more into his already-full mouth. "shit, man. i know my food is good, but really, stop devouring it like an animal."
the younger just shrugs his shoulders. "does it matter," he blankly states, "it's only you. not like i'm dining with some really sexy chick with boobs and an ass." he voices the last few words as if such a girl is even existent in this world. or really, asian. and living in south korea. only in my dreams. he thinks, inwardly shrugging his shoulders in dismay.
ignoring his last statement, jaejoong changes directions, moving on to a much-needed-to-be-pointed-out-at-the-moment question. "now, you know what's missing from this? you know what is missing from this oh-so sexy equation?" he questions dramatically, referring to him and jessica ( he sighs dreamily at the name ) as the 'oh-so sexy equation.' "a girl. you know, pale, dark long hair, pretty, crazy skinny and all delicate and shit? the type of girl i assume-no, know you're really into? yeah, that one."
changmin only grunts.
"and once you get that girl," he goes on, "we can double-date. double-date. and then i won't be alone, forced to watch some chick-flick with the typical, stupid-ass, popular pretty boy falling for the nobody girl he'd never go for." having finished with ranting, he sighs deeply, eyes shut as he lulls his head back.
- - - -
the rest of the week passes by with a dead-tiring slowness, jaejoong itching impatiently for it to come to an end. once friday rolls by, he's at his limit.
"work is too boring for us." he says lackadaisically, as the two walk out and away from the office to the nearest metro.
"you say that every time we clock out." changmin claims unabashedly, walking with casual step.
"why? because it's true. we were born to do bigger, better, things. not work an 8-hour desk-job with a pay as shitty as ever."
"you get paid two million won a year."
"and your point."
that's a freaking huge-ass amount. "i'm an intern. i don't even get paid." and i work harder than you, he adds bitterly.
"details, details," he waves, shaking his head flippantly. "either way, it's still shitty."
"only to you."
"okay, fine," he stops, raising a hand, and gesturing to himself. "it might, just might, be just me. but then again i'm talking to you of all people and really that's nothing much to go by."
"sometimes i find you to be too damn blunt for your own good."
"but that's why you love me right." jaejoong stops, hands under his chin and eyelashes batting in what changmin gauges as a failed attempt at being cute. he laughs, turns his head from side-to-side and walks off with a fumbling jaejoong trailing behind ( "-the hell, man. answer the question. it's the only way my distilled heart will ever find peace." )
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well hello there. yes i took forever to post this. yes this isn't named yet. i'll get there in due time. believe it or not. the motivation to continue vanished. wrote this before it did, and was planning on posting after i get a few more chapters ready. that didn't happen. so this my attempt to bring the motivation back. thank you for reading :)