k-pop; time for something real 1/2
cries because this wasn’t supposed to happen
Title: Time for something real
Pairing: Chanyeol/Jongin
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Just because Jongin spends all his time drawing romantic manhwa doesn’t mean he actually needs to experience one. At least that’s what he tells himself, before Chanyeol enters his life.
Author’s Note: 18651 words. this started out as twitter fic and became...this...T_T it’s 100% ebie’s fault. and probably ang’s too. and jongin’s dumb drawings stop him. thank you to the lovely lonio for looking this over for me and telling me it didn’t completely suck. <333
Jongin groans, hiding his face into the burrow of his arms as a loud voice booms, “Get up! Get up, you have a deadline!”
“I’m sleeping,” Jongin mumbles tiredly, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the light as his editor undoubtedly yanks open the curtains in his room. He was having a good dream, one where his latest volume was completed and he was celebrating with fried chicken and lots of sleep. Sleep, Jongin thinks, yes, very good, and tries to lull himself back into the warm hands of slumber.
It doesn’t work. His editor swats him upside the head with something heavy and Jongin jerks up so fast he sends himself toppling over in his chair. He crashes to the floor with a loud, painful sound, and glares up at his manager.
Junmyeon is not a very tall person, but right now he seems to be towering over Jongin, a scowl on his face and one of Jongin’s own manhwas in his hand. “Good,” he says, suddenly breaking into a wide smile. “You’re up.”
He drops the book and Jongin is too disoriented to dodge it in time. It flops onto his head and then to the floor and he grumbles at Junmyeon, rubbing his wound. Junmyeon pulls his chair back up, wheeling it so it slides in under Jongin’s desk. He shuffles some of the papers across the surface, muttering to himself about Jongin being a right mess, which Jongin thinks is totally unfair because Junmyeon is one of the messiest people he knows.
“Leave it, hyung, I’ll do it,” Jongin says.
“No, you go sit down over there and listen to what I have to tell you,” Junmyeon says sternly, pointing over to the small couch against the adjacent wall.
Jongin rolls his eyes as he stands up, wincing slightly as the fall had really stung his hip. He rubs at it with a palm. “I know what you’re going to say. I know I’m behind,” Jongin says. He forgoes the couch and heads for the kitchen instead. He needs some ice.
“A month behind!” Junmyeon exclaims, following him. “Have you even finished anything?”
Two pages, Jongin thinks, but he knows that will just give Junmyeon an aneurism, so he keeps it to himself. Sometimes it’s better for Junmyeon to think he’s completely hopeless. Instead he just shrugs noncommittally and turns away to grab an ice pack from the freezer. Junmyeon makes an exasperated sound behind him and then stomps back to the other room. Jongin can hear him shuffling through his work again, clearly trying to gauge how far he’s gotten. He’s not going to be too happy, but Jongin is too tired to care.
By the time Jongin’s fixed himself a cup of coffee and returned, pressing the pack of ice to his hip, Junmyeon has relatively cleaned up Jongin’s workspace. He’s sitting on the couch with one of Jongin’s thick sketchbooks in hand, sifting through the pages.
“This one,” he says the instant Jongin walks in. “This character. He’s good.”
Jongin peers at the page and feels his face burn a bit. “He’s no one,” he says as he sits down at his desk again, sets his mug off to the side. “Just some person I saw at the park a week ago.”
Junmyeon looks up, eyes intense as he assesses Jongin. It makes Jongin squirm uncomfortably. Eventually Junmyeon just laughs, like he knows something Jongin doesn’t, and turns the page. “Well, it’s good. You could use him in something.” Then he narrows his eyes at Jongin. “But you could do well to work on your actual manhwa then sketch caricatures of some guy you don’t know like a creep.”
“Go away,” Jongin whines, reaching out to tug his sketchbook back with a pout.
Junmyeon lets him take it, but he doesn’t move. Instead he stretches out on the couch and says, “I’m not going anywhere until you’ve at least finished the chapter.”
Jongin groans again, dropping his head onto his desk. The last thing he wants to do is work on his manhwa, his fingers itching already to sketch out another image of the guy he saw at the park.
“Get to work!” Junmyeon shouts and Jongin heaves a big sigh, pushes everything else out of his brain and does.
Jongin doesn’t know the man’s name, how old he is or where he lives. He just happened to see him at the park a few blocks from Jongin’s apartment on a Saturday afternoon when Jongin felt too cooped up inside and needed a break. The late February air made it still too cold to stay outdoors for too long, but Jongin bundled up warmly, brought his sketchbook with him and sat at a bench in the middle of the park. He could hear children screaming and laughing behind him, the sound of snow crunching under their feet as they played. He doesn’t have to look to be able to draw out happy smiles and round, bright eyes onto his paper. It’s not that easy to draw with a gloved hand, but Jongin has been doing this for many years, it’s almost like second nature.
He people-watches a lot, and he’s quick to memorize every detail of the images he sees. The way the branches on the trees in front of him are stark and bare. The shape of a boot print in the snow just inches away from his feet. The dark curve of the sidewalk between the white mounds of snow, the single lost red glove that’s resting atop a garbage can. He draws practically everything he sets his eyes on. It clears his head from the project he should be doing, the school uniforms starting to be too much for him these days. No more school stories, he decides. Junmyeon won’t like that very much, but Jongin doesn’t care.
He’s just about to pack up and head home, maybe stop by a cafe for some warm coffee, when he sees him. Or really, hears him, a loud bark of a laugh that startles Jongin. Other than the children laughing, it’s been relatively quiet, the winter chill keeping most people indoors. He doesn’t have to look far before he finds the source, the deep laughter coming from a young man on the other side of the path, sitting crosslegged in the snow with a small dog running around him. It’s a black Scottish Terrier and it yips excitedly as it flies around in the snow, and the man is grinning widely as he plays with it. He has soft brown hair peeking out just barely from under a fuzzy hat that cover his ears, and he’s wearing a thick poofy jacket.
Jongin is drawing before he even realizes it, filling the page with sketches of this man’s big, hearty smile, intrigued by the way it makes his face a little contorted, one eye squinting more than the other. His clear happiness radiates off of him, and Jongin feels impossibly warm as he draws him into his book. He’s not even sure why he’s so fixated, but he can’t seem to look away, watching as discreetly as possible so he doesn’t get caught. The man runs around a tree with the terrier at his heels, and Jongin takes in the length of his legs, the heavy black boots that leave giant imprints in the snow as he moves.
Jongin’s not sure how much time he spends drawing this person he’s never seen before, but by the time the man and his dog leave, he has about four pages full of sketches of just him and the beginnings of a terrible problem.
Jongin doesn’t expect to ever see that guy again. Real life isn’t like the hopelessly romantic girly manhwas he spends everyday drawing. He’s not magically in love with some guy he saw in a park and drew his face over four pages in his sketchbook. He can, grudgingly, admit that the guy was kinda handsome, definitely cute. His smile forever engrained in Jongin’s brain and even the rich, happy sound of his laughter replaying in his ears like a broken record. But that doesn’t mean anything. Jongin just found him particularly interesting. From an artist’s perspective. That’s it. It’s just like the time he was fixated with the way Baekhyun’s mouth goes all rectangle-shaped when he laughs and filled a page or two with doodles of it.
But maybe he has to rethink the way the world works because it’s not even a month later that Jongin runs into the man from the park. Thankfully he doesn’t actually run into him, perhaps the world hasn’t turned entirely into a manhwa just yet, but Jongin is settling into a chair at his favorite coffee shop and he sees, across the room, a familiar man working his way through a donut, his phone in his other hand. He’s wearing the same fuzzy hat and the heavy boots and, as Jongin stares, he smiles the same smile that Jongin hasn’t been able to shake out of his head.
Jongin came here to get away from work again, but mostly from Junmyeon obnoxiously calling him every ten minutes to check his progress. He’d left his phone at home just to ignore him, and there will probably be over a 100 missed messages by the time he gets back and Jongin might have to resort to Sohma Shigure levels of avoidance, but Jongin just needs a break.
More than any of that though, Jongin never expected to see this guy again. He might have secretly hoped to, once or twice, when he ends up doodling the man’s face into the corner of pages that he should be filling with his latest work, or onto post-it notes that end up littering the floor of his apartment.
Okay, so maybe Jongin hasn’t been able to get this guy’s face out of his head. But that definitely doesn’t mean anything.
It certainly doesn’t mean anything when he pulls out his sketchbook, turns to a clean page and starts to draw him again. Jongin does this all the time and rarely do people ever notice he’s watching them and transferring their features onto paper. So Jongin definitely doesn’t expect to glance up from his page and actually meet the man’s eyes that he’s been staring at for maybe an hour now, staring right back at him.
Jongin almost drops his pen in shock, instead quickly lowers his gaze and refuses to look back up. Maybe he hasn’t actually noticed, and they just happened to look at each other at the same time. Maybe he won’t care and leave Jongin alone.
Except Jongin hears the scratch of a chair against the floor, and when he glances out of the corner of his eye, he sees those familiar boots walking toward him. He starts to panic, but there’s no way he can pack up all his stuff and leave before he’s confronted. If he’s confronted. Maybe the guy is leaving.
He doesn’t. He plops himself down in the chair on the other side of Jongin’s small table and leans forward on his elbows. “What’re you drawing?” he asks, and Jongin’s mouth goes dry. His voice is deep, rumbling down Jongin’s spine. It’s nice.
He flushes, scrambling to hide his sketchbook so the man can’t see. “I-I'm not drawing you, if that's what you think!" Jongin exclaims quickly, even though he knows he's not fooling anyone, really. He hates how shrill he sounds. He tries to stuff his sketchbook back into his bag, but the man is faster, yanking it out of his hands.
"Oh, really?" he says, grinning slowly. He has perfect white teeth Jongin notices in the haze of his life falling apart around him. "You were staring at me quite a bit. I mean, I know I'm devastatingly handsome, but that's more than I usually get from people."
Jongin’s face is burning as hot as his coffee. He swallows and says weakly, "Please give that back."
"Not until I've had a look," the man says, and he flips open to a random page. Jongin breathes a sigh of relief because it's not a page full of the man’s own face; just some sketches of the buildings around Jongin's apartment that he can see from his balcony. A few doodles of Zitao’s cat. He gnaws on his lower lip, glances up at the man’s face, surprised to find how his eyes are wide. "You drew this?" he asks, and he sounds...impressed. Jongin blinks. "You're really good."
Then he flips through a few more pages, until he reaches the last one Jongin was working on. He tries to yank the book back then, but the man holds it up over his head. "You were drawing me!" he exclaims, practically slamming the book to the table with a loud bang and almost knocking Jongin's coffee over. People are looking over at them, Jongin vaguely notices, but he’s more surprised by the fact that the man doesn't look angry, or disturbed. In fact, he looks rather flattered, if the smirk on his face is any indication.
Jongin doesn't know what to say. This hasn’t happened before. Not with a stranger. He draws his friends all the time, and they snatch his work out of his hands whenever they please, mostly to gripe about how he draws everything wrong. Sehun complains that his face doesn’t look so flat and bread-like, but Jongin tells him he only draws what he sees. That only ever earns him a punch in the gut; he should really know better by now.
But he’s never been caught by someone he doesn’t know. If anyone notices him sketching, they either leave him alone, or kindly ask what he’s drawing and usually it ends up being something inane like the streetlights or a storefront. No one has ever caught him drawing them and the anxiety is bubbling so rapidly inside of him right now that Jongin feels like he might throw up.
The man is continuing to stare, leer, at him, eyes bright and the slightest quirk of a smirk on his pretty lips. Jongin shouldn’t be noticing that. Fuck. He quickly tugs his book back from the man’s hands.
"Hey, I was looking!" he exclaims.
"I think you've seen enough," he says, his voice wobbling a little. He’s so flustered, and it doesn't help that this guy seems like he has no intention of leaving.
Instead, he leans his elbows on the table again and asks, "Why were you drawing me?" He pauses, tilts his head and considers for a moment, then adds, "What's your name? Are you some kind of artist?"
Jongin's not sure he wants to divulge all this information to some (admittedly attractive) man he doesn't know. So he just hugs his sketchbook to his chest and says, "What's your name?"
Surprised, the man blinks at him before letting out a laugh. He settles back into his chair, stretching his legs out under the table. They bump against Jongin's. His legs are long, but not that Jongin has been looking. "Chanyeol," he says easily, like he comes up to stranger's tables in coffee shops and talks to them all the time. The way he seems completely at ease, all nonchalance and happy smile, tells Jongin he probably does. "Now what's yours?"
Jongin is still a little wary, but he manages to tell him his name. The man -- Chanyeol, Jongin corrects in his head -- stares at him expectantly, and it takes Jongin a moment to realize he's waiting to hear his answers to his other questions. He sighs, slouching in his chair and staring at his mug of coffee. It's probably gone cold by now. "Yes, I'm an artist. Sort of. I draw manhwa." He winces slightly as he says it, because he hasn't always had good reactions from people he doesn't know, when he admits what his profession is. Chanyeol, though, doesn't seem perturbed.
"And you were drawing me, because?"
Dammit, Jongin was hoping he'd forget about that question. The blush is back on his face and he's sure Chanyeol can see it. He presses his palms to his cheeks and looks anywhere but at him, but it seems like Chanyeol puts two and two together because he's leaning back over the table, almost too close into Jongin's personal space.
"Ah, so you do think I'm devastatingly handsome," he says, delighted.
Jongin is tempted to throw his coffee into Chanyeol's face. Instead he only squawks indignantly, feels the blush slink down his neck as Chanyeol's face contorts into what seems to be amusement.
"Don't worry, I'm not angry or anything," he says, waving a large hand. "It's cool. And you're pretty cute, you know, so I don't mind."
Jongin wonders if it's possible to die from blushing too much. He groans and hides his face in his hands. "I-I'm sorry, okay? I won't draw you anymore, so can you please just...leave?" Jongin mumbles through his fingers.
"Dude, relax," Chanyeol says and Jongin jolts when he feels warm hands grab his own and tug them away from his face. He pulls his hands back quickly and drops them to his lap. Chanyeol doesn't seem to be bothered. “I said it's okay. Are you gonna use me as inspiration for your next manhwa?"
Jongin opens his mouth and closes it a few times, at a complete loss. Chanyeol grins widely at him and before Jongin knows what's happening, Chanyeol's grabbed the pen Jongin had been using and then his sketchbook, right out of Jongin's grasp. He flips to the page with his face all over it, and then scrawls something right in the middle where there’s room.
"If you ever need better details on my face or something, give me a call," he says, and fucking winks at Jongin before he closes the book and sets the pen on top. Then he stands and Jongin is definitely taken aback by how tall he is. "Nice to meet you, Kim Jongin," he says, and Jongin is still in the midst of processing what's happened that by the time everything hits him, Chanyeol is long gone.
With shaky hands he pulls his book over to him, opens it to the last worked on page, and finds Chanyeol's name and number, and a tiny note underneath:
i definitely don't mind cute boys drawing me, next time just ask and i'll pose however you like ;)
“Who is Park Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo questions, startling Jongin into choking on his glass of water. He spits water down his front and Kyungsoo looks at him with disgust from where he’s sitting at the kitchen table.
Jongin hastily wipes his chin with the back of his hand and says, “What?”
“Park Chanyeol. This guy who left his number in your book,” Kyungsoo says, pointing to the page. He raises an eyebrow at Jongin and slowly smirks. “Did little Jongin go out and meet someone?”
Jongin wants to demand who he’s calling little, but he knows better than to bring that up to Kyungsoo’s face. “NO,” he exclaims loudly instead, waving his hands in the air dramatically like that will prove his point. When Kyungsoo just stares at him blankly, he drops them, along with his shoulders, slumping in defeat and turning back to the stove to finish cooking. “He’s some guy I met at a coffee shop. Long story. I’m not interested or anything though! You know I’m not looking.”
“But he called you cute,” Kyungsoo says sweetly, like Jongin has forgotten. Like Jongin hasn’t thought about it practically everyday since he met Chanyeol. Jongin hates his traitorous brain.
“So what, you call me cute.”
“I don’t count,” Kyungsoo says. “And I’m not the one you have a page full of stalker drawings.”
“I’m not stalking him!” Jongin says loudly, his voice going a little high-pitched at the end. “I just saw him once at the park and then happened to see him again at a coffee shop. When he caught me, and...well. Yeah.” He shuts up, embarrassed, and turns away again. He’s going to burn the food if he keeps getting distracted. But then maybe Kyungsoo will push him away and take over, which is better for them both. Jongin will probably end up poisoning them.
“So you’re not going to call him?” Kyungsoo asks. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares Jongin down like he’s in trouble and he’s trying to get Jongin to admit it first.
“I said I’m not looking.”
“You should be looking.”
“I’m perfectly happy!”
“You’re a mess.”
Jongin turns to him with a pout. “You’re mean,” he says and Kyungsoo just laughs, pleased. “And I’m not a mess,” he adds as an afterthought, reaching up to open a cupboard and pull out a plate.
“Jongin, you basically spend all your time indoors working, and when you’re not working, you watch reruns of Pokemon and buy DBZ figurines,” he says flatly. “The last time you’ve been on a date was like, what? High school?”
“Very funny,” Jongin says. “There was that guy, a few years ago, remember? Taemin?”
“You dated for like two weeks,” Kyungsoo deadpans. “That’s barely anything. It could do you good, you know. You spend all your time writing about magical romances but you never let yourself experience once.”
Now Kyungsoo sounds mildly concerned, like he’s actually worried about Jongin’s bachelor status and the fact that yes, it really has been a long time since he’s been in a serious relationship. Jongin sighs, runs a hand through his hair and takes the pan off the stove, carefully sliding the vegetables and chicken mixture onto the plate.
“I don’t want a magical romance,” Jongin says, setting the dish onto his small kitchen table. Kyungsoo looks at him skeptically. “Really,” he insists. “I draw these things because it’s fun, but real life is not like that. And it’s not going to happen with some weird guy I met at the coffee shop, okay?” He gives Kyungsoo his best glare, which doesn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever. “So drop it, okay?”
Kyungsoo puts his hands up placatingly, but then says with a wicked grin, “But when he asks you out and you say yes, like I know you will, I reserve all rights to say I told you so.”
Jongin just laughs and agrees because there’s no way that will ever happen.
Real life seems to be testing him. When Jongin runs into Chanyeol again, it’s a month later, long after Jongin has (mostly) forgotten all about his face and his voice and his number scrawled in his sketchbook. He’s been too busy to think about him anyway, finally finishing up the chapter in his latest volume and starting in on the new one. He definitely hasn’t kept his eye out at the park or that coffee shop for a familiar face, definitely hasn’t doodled those pretty lips and that furry hat into the corners of napkins or anything. Nope, not at all.
Junmyeon’s always told Jongin he’s not a very good liar.
So when he runs into Chanyeol at a grocery store of all places, he’s sure the world is testing him. Trying to see how much he can handle. Maybe this is punishment for drawing strangers without their consent.
Jongin tries to be as inconspicuous as possible, but when Chanyeol winds up in line to check out right behind him, it doesn’t take very long for him to notice. He’s got that familiar smile on his face, but he’s not wearing that furry cap of his and his hair is a pretty brown that flops into his face. Jongin wonders if it’s as soft as it looks, but then quickly berates himself for even thinking such a thing.
“Hey, why didn’t you ever call me?” Chanyeol asks him after he gets over his initial excitement of running into Jongin. He’s pouting now, and it’s distracting, but not enough to mask the surprise in Jongin’s veins.
“Did you want me to?” he asks haltingly. The tiny spark that lights up inside of him is something Jongin hasn’t felt in a long time. Happy, maybe. A little flattered. He was 90% sure that Chanyeol had left his number facetiously, but perhaps that assumption was wrong. Even though Jongin thought about doing it (more than he'd like to admit), it's not like he knew the first thing about Chanyeol and he wasn't gonna call him up to ask to draw his face because that's totally weird, right? Right.
Chanyeol laughs and smirks at him a bit. "Why wouldn't I want the cute artist I met at the coffee shop to call me?"
Jongin really hates how Chanyeol throws him off balance every time and he has to force himself not to blush at his words. Jongin clenches his fingers around the basket he’s carrying of chips, milk and vegetables, while Chanyeol swings a case a beer at his side.
"Say, what're you doing tomorrow?" Chanyeol asks him suddenly, leaning in so he can whisper into Jongin's ear. Jongin jerks back, almost knocking over a display stand, and Chanyeol reaches out to steady him with a hand at his waist. "Whoa, relax. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," Jongin says quickly, "I'm fine." Just terribly embarrassed, he thinks, cursing his life. He shouldn't have even left his studio; his deadline is quickly approaching and he should've just stayed there finishing up the chapter and made Junmyeon bring over food or something. But instead he's run into the one person he can't stop thinking about, who now has his hand resting on his waist, touch warm through his skin. Jongin swallows thickly and steps away just enough that Chanyeol's hand drops away, and then turns away from him, facing the front of the line. Just two people before him before he can escape.
"I looked for your manhwa," Chanyeol says conversationally and that has Jongin blinking in surprise. He turns back to him slowly. Chanyeol is still smiling; Jongin wonders how he can do that, but his smile is really nice, so it’s not exactly like he minds. "But I couldn't find anything by someone named Kim Jongin."
Jongin actually laughs. "I don't write under my real name," he says.
"Unfair," Chanyeol whines. "What is your pen name then?"
Jongin shrugs. "Try and guess," he tells him, and the way Chanyeol narrows his eyes at him makes Jongin finally feel like he has the upper foot here.
Of course it doesn't last though, because just as they move up a spot in the line, Chanyeol says, "You never did say if you were free tomorrow."
Jongin has to work on his volume, has to finish it before Junmyeon threatens to kill him. He should even clean his apartment that's become a complete mess as his focus has been on work. He definitely doesn't have any free time, but yet he somehow ends up saying, "I'm mostly free, I guess."
"Then you should let me buy you lunch," Chanyeol says easily, smiling at Jongin in a way that makes his heart traitorously skip a beat. "You can even draw more of my face, if you want."
Jongin groans. "Let that go, okay?" he pleads, even though the entire time they've been talking, Jongin has been trying to memorize the curve of his eyes, he smoothness of his lips. The way his brown hair falls almost effortlessly into his face. He's even burned the image of his hands clutching the case of beer, the thick black coat he's wearing and the scuff marks on his shoes. He's itching to go home and sketch everything out.
He wonders if that's all obvious on his face because Chanyeol is smirking at him. "Say yes," he says, and god, Jongin hates that he finds Chanyeol's easy confidence so attractive.
What he wants to ask is why, why do you even want to have lunch with me, why do you care, but those words don’t come out. Instead he curses himself and the fact that Kyungsoo is always, always fucking right. “Fine,” he says, as grudgingly as he can because he doesn't want Chanyeol to think he's really interested. “Fine, I’ll go.”
The big, bright grin that Chanyeol gives him then almost, almost, makes everything worth it.
Jongin doesn’t tell a soul about Chanyeol. He doesn’t need that sort of humiliation in his life. It’s humiliating enough that he let some stranger wheedle his way into successfully asking him out. Not that this is a date or anything. No. Jongin is just curious. Right.
Chanyeol had asked to meet him at the coffee shop where they’d first met the next day. Jongin gets there a little early, stopping inside to order a drink that can help fight the chill in his bones. He sits at a table by the window so he can see when Chanyeol comes and fiddles with his phone as he waits. He’s not nervous, definitely not, but he’s thankful that he doesn’t have to wait too long.
There’s a slight rap at the window just beside his head, startling Jongin so much he drops his phone to the floor. Chanyeol is hiding a laugh behind a hand once Jongin hastily picks it up and turns to him. He’s wearing a black cap that says ILLEGAL across the front and that poofy jacket of his. He grins, and waves to Jongin to come outside, so Jongin heaves a deep breath and leaves the comfort of the shop.
Chanyeol meets him by the door. “You really came,” he says, sounding simultaneously surprised and pleased.
“I said I would,” Jongin replies, not quite meeting his eyes. He curls his gloved fingers around his styrofoam cup.
“I’m glad,” Chanyeol says, and the soft tone of his voice sends a little shiver down Jongin’s spine. He blames it on the cold. Chanyeol tugs gently at the sleeve of his coat at his elbow, steering him around the corner. “Come on, I hope you like jeon.”
It’s a place Jongin’s been to before, which helps him relax quite a bit as they settle into chairs and shrug off their layers. Chanyeol pulls off his cap to ruffle his hair and then sets it back on, only backwards this time. It makes his ears stick out a little more but it suits him, Jongin thinks, before he quickly drops his eyes to the menu. It doesn’t take much time for them to order, and Jongin plays with the ends of his scarf as nervousness starts to coil in his stomach.
“No sketchbook today?” Chanyeol asks him curiously.
Jongin shakes his head. “I didn’t think it’d be nice to whip that out in the middle of lunch,” he says. Not to mention he doesn’t need Chanyeol to look through it and find more sketches of himself that Jongin has drawn from memory.
“I wouldn’t have minded,” Chanyeol says. “Especially if you were gonna draw me.”
Jongin bristles a little. He wishes Chanyeol would stop bringing that up, nevermind the fact that it is the reason they met. “Look,” he says carefully, “if the only reason you, uh, asked me out was to constantly make fun of me for that, I--”
“No! No,” Chanyeol says quickly, waving his hands dismissively. His eyes go a little wide. “I’m not trying to make fun of you, honest. I think it’s flattering.” He grins. “And I think your art is really cool. I can’t draw to save my life, so.”
Jongin licks his lips. Some of the worry that had built up inside of him ever since he agreed to having lunch with Chanyeol fades away at his words. He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, thanks, I guess,” he says uncertainly.
“Don’t be so nervous, Jongin,” Chanyeol says, and the sound of his name has Jongin’s chest a little warm. “It’s like you’ve never been on a date before.”
Fuck, so this is a date. Jongin fidgets uncomfortably and Chanyeol blinks at him, slow realization crossing over his face.
“You haven’t?” he exclaims.
“Of course I have!” Jongin snaps. He slouches a little then, fists his hands into his jeans at his knees. “It’s just, well, been a long time.” He glances up at Chanyeol. “And I don’t even know you.”
“We’ll just have to change that, won’t we?” Chanyeol claps his hands together delightedly Jongin wonders just what he’s gotten himself into.
By the time their food arrives, Jongin learns a few things about Chanyeol. His confidence practically radiates off of him, he never seems to stop talking, and he is, to Jongin’s dismay, really, really cute. Jongin is not very good with people, least of all people he doesn’t know, but that doesn’t seem to bother Chanyeol at all. He directs the conversation with such ease that it isn’t long before Jongin is laughing amiably and not constantly worrying over every little thing. He is constantly distracted though, by the deep, pleasant sound of Chanyeol’s voice, the pink of his lips, the way his eyes get all bright when he laughs.
“So are you gonna tell me the name of your manhwa, or am I gonna have to guess?” Chanyeol asks him halfway through their meal. He has some crumbs on the corner of his mouth that he licks off with the tip of his tongue, and Jongin has to tear his eyes away, reaching for his glass of water.
He takes a quick sip and answers, “I think I’ll make you guess. It’s more fun that way.”
Chanyeol pouts and Jongin wishes he would stop doing that. Then he straightens his back and says, “Fine. I’ll figure it out.”
Jongin chuckles. “Good luck.”
“If I get it right, you’ll let me take you out again,” Chanyeol suggests and the eagerness in his voice makes Jongin flush.
“If you get it wrong?”
“You still let me take you again again.”
That startles a loud laugh out of Jongin, who wasn’t expecting that answer. He hides his mouth with a hand as he laughs, and Chanyeol’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before fading into something that makes heat curl up in the pit of Jongin’s belly. He’s smiling slowly, gaze impossibly warm, and Jongin has to focus on his food to get his heart to calm down.
“That-That doesn’t seem fair,” Jongin manages to get out. He picks up a bit of kimchi jeon and pops it into his mouth.
“I don’t know, it seems like a pretty good deal to me,” Chanyeol says. “So, give me a few hints at least, so I can narrow down my search.”
Jongin is not good at this, so he asks, “What do you want to know?”
Chanyeol purses his lips and taps his fingertip against them as he thinks. Jongin sits back in his chair and watches him, amused. He is really cute, but he’s fun, too. He’s nice. He seems genuinely interested in Jongin, even if he does come on a little too strong.
“Okay, is the main character a girl or boy?” he asks.
“A girl.”
“Is this a high school story?”
Jongin hesitates. “Yes.”
Chanyeol tilts his head at him, considers. “You write girly romance manhwa, don’t you?”
“So what if I do?” Jongin replies as scathingly as he can manage, except he’s pretty sure it sounds more like a weak whine.
Laughing, Chanyeol shakes his head and waves a hand at him again. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” he says, and he squints at Jongin. “I can see it.”
That makes Jongin feel slightly uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly in his seat. He’s not sure how to reply so he just keeps quiet, focusing on finishing his lunch while Chanyeol pops a piece of jeon into his mouth and chews, brows knitted in thought.
“Is this straight up high school romance or is there like, magic and evil witches and moon princesses?” he asks.
Jongin snorts. “No, it’s not like Sailor Moon.”
“Shame,” Chanyeol says. “That would’ve been cool.”
“One last question,” Jongin says, and when Chanyeol frowns at him, he adds, “Can’t make it too easy for you.” He shrugs, drops his gaze to his plate again.
“Fine, I’ll make the last one count,” Chanyeol says. He eats some more of his meal as he thinks and Jongin watches him curiously. He’s not so sure why Chanyeol seems to care so much, but it’s kind of...fun, this way, trying to make him guess. Chanyeol doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would know much about manhwa aside from One Piece or Gundam Wing, but Jongin has been in the business long enough to know that you can never tell. Like Jongin knew Kyungsoo for three years before he learned of his love of Prince of Tennis, but that might also be because Kyungsoo is exceptionally good at keeping secrets.
“Okay,” Chanyeol says decisively a few minutes later, leaning toward Jongin almost conspiratorily as he gears up to ask his last question, “this is definitely important. Do you write the rated stuff?”
Jongin lets out a startled laugh, tilting his head back as his shoulders shake in amusement. “That’s your big question?” he gasps out, clutching at his stomach. His face feels warm and the way Chanyeol is looking at him like he did earlier, soft eyes, affectionate, almost, really doesn’t help one bit, but he can’t stop the grin that stretches across his lips.
“Hey, I was trying to be clever. There’s not nearly as much of that rated stuff as there is the non-rated stuff,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin’s not sure how he knows that. “I was hoping you did because it’d narrow down the field, but I’m guessing from your reaction that you don’t.”
“I don’t,” Jongin confirms and Chanyeol curses under his breath. “Nice try, though.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Do you have an actual guess now?”
Chanyeol surprises him with a couple of decent guesses, even if Wild Forest Maiden is about a lesbian couple and Jongin’s story is not, and that SM Academy has all these monsters in it that Jongin hasn’t ever been interested in drawing.
“Love in the Mask isn’t high school,” he points out with a laugh, “though it is a good story.” He peers at Chanyeol and asks, “How do you even know about all of these?”
Chanyeol rubs at his nose, his cheeks turning a little pink. Jongin is amazed, because in all the time they’ve spent together, though admittedly short, Chanyeol has never looked as embarrassed as he does right now. “I have an older sister,” he says and Jongin fails to stifle a laugh. He’s heard that before. “No! I really do. I haven’t actually read them myself!”
“Sure,” Jongin says lightly as he lifts his glass of water for a drink. “Whatever you say.”
Chanyeol groans, rubs at his face. “Reading girly manhwa is not nearly as strange for a guy as it is for him to draw it,” he grumbles, and it’s clearly just a defensive comment but Jongin doesn’t find it all that funny.
Actually, it kind of stings because Jongin has really enjoyed himself today, having lunch with Chanyeol and being able to talk about his work, however vaguely, without being judged for it. He didn’t think Chanyeol cared, it certainly seemed like he didn’t care, his comments and interest always genuine even if slightly invasive. But this, well. Jongin didn’t come here for this.
He licks his lips and pushes his chair back, mutters, “I think it’s time for me to go.”
The stricken look on Chanyeol’s face is enough for him to know Chanyeol really didn’t mean it, but that doesn’t make Jongin feel any better, truthfully. “No, wait, don’t go,” Chanyeol says even as Jongin stands and zips up his coat.
“It was fun,” Jongin says, lightly shrugging as he wraps his scarf around his neck. “I’ll...see you, I guess.”
He leaves before the incredibly kicked-puppy look in Chanyeol’s eyes makes him sit back down again. It’s windy outside and Jongin stuff his hands into his pockets and barely makes it down the street before Chanyeol’s caught up with him, a firm hand grabbing his elbow to stop him.
“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says in a rush. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve heard it before,” Jongin says. He stares at the pavement instead of Chanyeol’s face.
“That doesn’t make it okay,” Chanyeol says, “and I really am sorry. I don’t want to you leave, I was really having a good time.”
Jongin can’t believe that he’s actually starting to forgive him, about maybe even letting Chanyeol take him wherever else he might have had planned for the day. Maybe it’s the warmth of his hand on his arm that’s distracting him, making him feel these ridiculous things. Jongin tugs his arm away and shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he tells him. “But I really should go home. I have a lot of work to do and--”
“Give me your number,” Chanyeol cuts in and when Jongin looks up at him, gaping, Chanyeol repeats his request more urgently. “Come on.” He holds out his phone for Jongin, who hesitates for a second before taking it. He keys in his number and hands it back and Chanyeol grins at him widely. “Since you clearly don’t want to call me, I’ll just have to call you,” he says.
“Maybe that just means you can’t take a hint,” Jongin returns, frowning, but Chanyeol laughs and leans in close.
“You wouldn’t have met me today if that’s what you really wanted,” he whispers into Jongin’s ear and Jongin face burns. He really hates how Chanyeol does that.
“I’m leaving,” he says, turning on his heel and heading off toward his apartment and he really hates how he can’t help the grin that takes over his face when he hears Chanyeol shout, “I’ll call you!” after him.
A sharp pinching pain jolts Jongin awake, swatting at the back of his neck as he blinks out the sleep in his eyes.
"Awake now?" Kyungsoo says dryly, and he pinches the back of Jongin's neck again for good measure. “That’s the sixth time you’ve fallen asleep today, I think that’s a new record.”
Jongin groans, rubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms. He blearily stares down at his workspace, the scattered pages from the newest chapter, the smudged ink along the shape of a body he was drawing when he must’ve dozed off. That probably means there’s ink on his face but he doesn’t care enough to get up and check. It happens a lot.
“Where’s Yifan-hyung?” he asks, glancing around the studio. Kyungsoo’s space is neat and tidy as usual, while Yifan’s a little more of a mess. Jongin’s desk is the worst and it constantly gets on Kyungsoo’s nerves, but Jongin insists he knows where everything is and if Kyungsoo tries to clean up without his permission, then Jongin threatens to make a right disaster out of Kyungsoo’s area. It’s really the only way to keep him away.
“He went to get some lunch for everyone,” Kyungsoo says, returning to his desk. “By the way, your phone has beeped like ten times and if you don’t turn it off or answer whoever is calling you, I’m throwing your phone out the window.” He smiles at Jongin who shudders slightly and nods, reaching for his phone that he set atop a small shelf against the back of his desk.
“It’s probably just my mom,” Jongin mutters, because he hasn’t talked to her in awhile and she likes to call to make sure he eats and complain that he’s taking too long to release the next volume. Except when Jongin keys in his code and checks his messages, he has four new ones and none of them are from his mother. They’re all from Chanyeol.
Jongin feels his face heat up instantly. It’s been a few days since their...date, and Jongin was still too uncertain about messaging Chanyeol first. What would he even say? When Chanyeol hadn’t called him or anything soon after, Jongin figured that was that. But now…
hey jongin, since i haven’t heard from you yet, i think i’ll take the first step here and text you. i get the feeling you’re a little shy, or something, but that’s totally okay. i think it’s cute. ;)
The heat in Jongin’s cheeks starts to spread down his neck.
oh! how about girls of the wild?? that’s totally high school and the main character’s a chick, so it works. right?
i think you’re gonna have to give me some more hints
why are there so many high school manhwas in the first place???
Jongin laughs out loud at that, amused by the way Chanyeol is so determined to figure out what he’s written. He’s about to reply back to him that Girls of the Wild is a good guess, but not his, when his phone beeps again in his hands. He can feel Kyungsoo’s narrowed eyes on him, and his stomach coils slightly as he reads the newest message.
are you free right now? let’s get lunch!
“What was that about not being interested again?” Kyungsoo says, leaning over Jongin’s shoulder and speaking near his right ear.
Jongin jerks away, slamming a hand to his ear and cringing. Kyungsoo straightens up, crossing his arms over his chest and looking terribly smug. Fuck.
"Don't say it--" Jongin starts.
"I told you so," Kyungsoo says and Jongin sighs, wonders why he even bothers. There's not much Kyungsoo likes more than being right. Except maybe the sounds Baekhyun makes when Kyungsoo chokeholds him, but that's something Jongin doesn't like to think about.
"We've only had lunch once," Jongin says weakly. "I'm not even sure that I like him."
"Like who?" Yifan's voice questions as he appears from behind the door, a couple of takeout bags in his hand and snow in his hair. He kicks the door shut behind him and blinks at Jongin and Kyungsoo.
"No one," Jongin says quickly, but Kyungsoo spills everything without batting an eye.
Yifan grins at Jongin though, like he's proud or something, instead of amused like Kyungsoo. "That's good, isn't it?" he says, ruffling Jongin's hair as he passes by to the small table they have in the corner for dining. He sets the bags on top and shrugs out of his fur-collared coat. He's wearing terrible leather pants and Jongin doesn't understand how he stands it, in this cold.
"Why are you both so invested in my lovelife?" Jongin grumbles.
"Because you haven't had one in years," Kyungsoo unhelpfully answers and Jongin wonders what Kyungsoo would do if he threw a shoe at his head. "And clearly he likes you, since he asked you out for lunch just now."
"He did?" Yifan says, and he frowns at Jongin apologetically. "I wouldn't have gotten you anything if I'd--"
"It's okay," Jongin waves him off. "We have a lot of work today. I'll tell him some other time." Even as he says it, he feels a little bad. But definitely not because he wants to see Chanyeol again or anything. Nope.
"Are you sure?" Yifan asks, looking genuinely concerned and Jongin nods.
"It's no big deal. Like I said, I don't even really like him, I--"
"Stop lying and come eat," Kyungsoo cuts over him and Jongin glares at Kyungsoo's back before sighing.
He looks down at his phone and considers for a few long moments.
i'm busy this afternoon, but how about dinner?
He practically chews through his bottom lip before he finally plucks up enough courage to send it. Two seconds later, he grins slowly and adds:
and ur wrong again about the manhwa. if we meet tonight, i can give you more hints
Not even five minutes later does his phone beep again and Jongin snatches it off the table before Kyungsoo does.
dinner sounds great! how about around seven? meet me at this address. i'm looking forward to seeing you again ;)
Jongin licks his lips and sends back a quick i'll be there before setting his phone down.
"Awww, he's blushing," Kyungsoo says, overly sweet, and Yifan snickers, eyes amused.
Jongin would glare, or threaten to fire them, but for some reason he just feels a bit too happy and just ducks his head and focuses on eating and not on the fact that Chanyeol invited him to his own home tonight.
“Sorry I’m late,” Jongin says when Chanyeol opens the door for him later that evening.
Chanyeol shakes his head, smiling widely at Jongin before suddenly blinking and tilting his head. The reaction has Jongin a little self-conscious, but then Chanyeol says, “Glasses. I haven’t seen you with those before.”
“Ah, yeah,” Jongin says, touches the frame of his black-rimmed glasses a little uncertainly. “My contacts were bothering me so I switched.”
“You look really cute in them,” Chanyeol says and Jongin refuses to blush. He refuses. “You should wear the glasses more.” His grins and reaches out to tug Jongin into his apartment. “Come on in, you look cold. I’m making some tea right now, unless you want something else?”
“T-Tea is fine,” Jongin says, surprised by Chanyeol’s warm welcome and complete ease. He takes a slow breath, trying to calm himself down and follows Chanyeol inside, hefting his backpack full of work stuff over his shoulder. He slips out of his shoes in the doorway.
Chanyeol’s apartment is small, but much more inviting than Jongin's, which is nearly a mess everyday. Everything here seems to be right in it's place, from the line of sneakers in the doorway to the perfectly stacked CD and DVD cases on the tall shelf by the television. Jongin sets his backpack down on the couch and shrugs off his coat; Chanyeol takes it from him wordlessly to put away in the closet and then he's waving Jongin down the hall.
"I hope you're good with kimchi jjigae," Chanyeol says. "I would've made something a little more, but this is what I was craving."
"That sounds great," Jongin says, his stomach already rumbling from the delicious smell that greets him in the small kitchen. There's a table off to the side, a stack of colored paper and cut outs set at an end. Jongin thinks he catches a childishly drawn stick-figure on the top one, but turns back to Chanyeol because he doesn't want to poke around rudely.
Chanyeol catches his gaze though, and he flashes Jongin a bright smile as he heads to the stove to check on the simmering pot. Jongin walks over to lean by the counter next to him as he says, "Those are some drawings from my kids."
Jongin blinks, mouth falling open a bit. Chanyeol laughs at him, nudges his side with an elbow. "Not my kids, exactly. But, that's what I call them. I'm a kindergarten teacher."
"How did I not know that about you?" Jongin exclaims, more surprised than he probably should be. He's wondered, of course, what Chanyeol does, but he never expected this. As he thinks about it, though, Chanyeol's kind smiles and easy confidence, it's fitting. He can almost see it, Chanyeol's excitable laughter as he runs around after some kids and helps them fingerpaint. The thought makes a slow burn settle in the pit of his stomach.
"You never asked," Chanyeol answers with a small laugh. "And besides, you won't tell me about your manhwa, so I had to keep something about myself a secret, too, right? Only fair."
"I don’t think it works like that," Jongin laughs. "And, you’re having fun trying to guess, so it’s not like it’s a big inconvenience to you."
“Good point,” Chanyeol says. “It really wasn’t Girls of the Wild? I thought that was a good guess.” He sighs exaggeratedly, and his lower lip juts out slightly as he stares down at the pot, gently stirring with a wooden spoon.
“It was,” Jongin agrees. “But no, that’s not it.”
"Just wait," Chanyeol says, pointing at Jongin with his spoon. "I'll figure it out."
Jongin laughs, backing away from Chanyeol so as to not end up with a messy shirt, and Chanyeol grins at him before turning back. The itch is there again, to draw him, to get the curve of his eyes right or the way he can really see his hair without a hat being in the way. He looks really nice, in black skinny jeans that only emphasis the length of his legs, and a cozy-looking black sweater. Jongin feels a little awkward in his pair of jeans and, oh god, a Pikachu t-shirt, but Chanyeol doesn't seem like he cares, so Jongin tries not to either.
He helps Chanyeol get out bowls and utensils, setting them up on the table before retrieving some mugs from the cupboard Chanyeol points to above the sink. Chanyeol hands him the kettle and tells him where the tea bags are, and Jongin is glad for something to do to distract him from the nervousness that just won't leave his body.
He fills their cups and sets the kettle back on the stove, adds in the tea bags and settles down in a chair at the table. The stack of papers from earlier catches his eye again, and he figures it's okay to look now, so he sifts through them slowly, a grin slowly tugging at his lips. There are many crudely drawn pictures of what seem to be families and houses, and a few of them even include a tall looking figure with the word "teacher" scribbled (mostly incorrectly) above it.
"These are adorable," Jongin says, and Chanyeol chuckles.
"True artistic talents in the making, right there," he says. "There's a few of them who want to do what you do."
"Well, it is a great job," Jongin says, grinning at Chanyeol over his shoulder before turning back. "I used to draw on everything when I was little. It'd drive my parents crazy." He puffs out a laugh at himself and shakes his head. "I still do that, though. Drawing on napkins and newspaper margins all the time."
"Drawing strangers you see at coffee shops?" Chanyeol asks, a slight smirk to his lips as he appears with the pot of jjigae, setting it atop a placeholder in the center of the table. He tells Jongin to help himself, and then heads back into the kitchen for something else. Jongin reaches for Chanyeol's bowl first and serves him, then himself, and Chanyeol returns with some sugar and milk for their tea.
Even though Jongin is still incredibly nervous, their dinner is not awkward or unpleasant. Chanyeol really has a way about him that makes Jongin feel comfortable, like they've known each other for years instead of a few short weeks. They talk easily about Chanyeol's work, how he came home the other day with glue in his hair and paint on his clothes, about Jongin's tendency to fall asleep in the middle of drawing and how he gets scolded by Kyungsoo on a daily basis. Chanyeol fires out questions about his manhwa randomly, like maybe Jongin will blurt out the name on his own. But Jongin is careful because he likes the way Chanyeol's brows furrow in concentration, the way his tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth.
Actually, no, he doesn't like that last bit at all. Not. At. All.
But he might like the way Chanyeol flushes half-embarrassed, half-pleased when Jongin compliments his dinner, eagerly spooning up mouthfuls and sighing in bliss. He catches Chanyeol staring at him across the table at one such moment, looking a little dazed, but he snaps out of it when Jongin waves a hand in front of his face. The slight pink in his cheeks only deepens then and he looks down quickly at his food and Jongin's not sure what sort of reaction that is, but he's glad he's not the only one who gets flustered.
They end up in the living room later, Jongin graciously accepting a beer that Chanyeol hands him. Chanyeol sits almost too close on the couch, his knee bumping against Jongin's, and Chanyeol channel surfs aimlessly as they talk.
Jongin listens as he surveys the room, learning little things about Chanyeol from the guitar resting beside the bookshelf, what looks like the entire Beenzino discography, and the picture of him and a familiar puppy framed on the television stand.
"Is that your puppy?" he asks, pointing at the picture and realizing he hasn't actually seen anything in the apartment that suggests Chanyeol has a pet.
"Nah," he says, shaking his head. "It's my older sister's. I look after him sometimes."
"He's cute," Jongin says, smiling at the picture.
"Not me?" Chanyeol asks with a pout and he nudges Jongin's knee slightly.
Jongin squints at him, assessing, and tilts his head. Chanyeol slowly glowers, and reaches out to swat at Jongin's shoulder. It surprises a laugh out of him, that stupid high-pitched one of his that he can never help, and Chanyeol's expression fades back into a similar look like the one he'd given Jongin over dinner.
Then he laughs, too, swatting at Jongin's knee this time. "And I say you're cute all the time," he whines, like Jongin makes him say it or something. He glances askance at him, and adds, "But then, you really are."
Jongin groans, heat climbing up the back of his neck. "Is that how you get all your dates?" he asks, surprised a bit at himself at the question, but he blames it on his second beer.
"Maybe," Chanyeol says. "It's worked with you."
"Who says it was your flattery?" Jongin returns.
"Then it must be my handsome face, right?" Chanyeol says with a laugh. "Do you have more drawings of me?"
Jongin shifts slightly, and doesn't quite meet his eyes. His reaction has Chanyeol smirking slowly, and leaning in toward him as he throws an arm around Jongin's shoulders. Jongin swallows thickly, licking his lips and he doesn't miss the way Chanyeol's eyes dart down to his mouth before flicking back up. His arm feels warm against Jongin's shoulders and his heart rate quickens in his chest. He takes another sip of his drink and tries not to be too obvious as he moves away a bit.
Chanyeol doesn't seem like he minds, leaning back against the couch and stretching his long legs out under the coffee table. "So you do," he says. "Can I see?"
"No," Jongin blurts out quickly. He reaches out to set his bottle on the coffee table and stands. "Maybe another time?"
"You're heading home already?" Chanyeol asks, getting to his feet as well. He looks a little put out. "Are you gonna be okay?"
Jongin waves a hand at him. "Yeah, of course, I'm not drunk or anything," he says. He picks up his bag from the end of the couch and heads for the door. Chanyeol heads around him to pull his coat from the closet and Jongin shrugs it on, along with his shoes.
"I'm really glad you came," Chanyeol says after Jongin's stepped into the hall. He leans against his door, looking long and lean and annoyingly handsome. "I had a good time."
"Me, too," Jongin says, shifting his backpack more comfortably onto his shoulders. He chews the inside of his cheek as he considers, then adds, "Maybe next time--"
"You can make us dinner?" Chanyeol says, and he looks terribly hopeful.
"I was gonna say I'll treat you," Jongin says, fiddling with the hem of his coat. "I'm not exactly the best cook and--"
"Jongin," Chanyeol cuts in suddenly, and Jongin stumbles slightly as Chanyeol tugs him close by his jacket sleeve. Jongin's eyes widen as he stares up at Chanyeol's face, close, almost too close, and this is like something straight out of a manhwa, the way Chanyeol smiles at him warmly before he closes the distance between them. His lips are soft and smooth against his own and it only lasts a few seconds, but Jongin's heart is threatening to burst out of his chest, and he can practically see the SFX flashing in his head.
Jongin hates how dazed he feels when Chanyeol pulls away, a wide grin on his face as he slips the hand from Jongin's sleeve down to gently squeeze his wrist. "Um," Jongin says, licking his lips.
“Don’t do that,” Chanyeol whines, “or I’ll want to kiss you again.”
Jesus. When did Jongin’s life start to mimic his work? He’s pretty sure that’s a line from his own manhwa. He laughs, incredulous, and presses his hands to his cheeks. “I-I’m gonna...go,” he says, “yeah.”
Chanyeol reaches out to zip up Jongin’s coat all the way to his chin and grins at Jongin’s futile protests. “Cute,” he says, and ruffles Jongin’s hair lightly. “Goodnight, Jongin.”
“I-I’ll call you,” Jongin says, and before he can talk himself out of it, he leans up and kisses Chanyeol again once. He flushes deeply at the surprise in Chanyeol’s eyes, and he waves quickly before heading down the hall.
part 2
Title: Time for something real
Pairing: Chanyeol/Jongin
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Just because Jongin spends all his time drawing romantic manhwa doesn’t mean he actually needs to experience one. At least that’s what he tells himself, before Chanyeol enters his life.
Author’s Note: 18651 words. this started out as twitter fic and became...this...T_T it’s 100% ebie’s fault. and probably ang’s too. and jongin’s dumb drawings stop him. thank you to the lovely lonio for looking this over for me and telling me it didn’t completely suck. <333
Jongin groans, hiding his face into the burrow of his arms as a loud voice booms, “Get up! Get up, you have a deadline!”
“I’m sleeping,” Jongin mumbles tiredly, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the light as his editor undoubtedly yanks open the curtains in his room. He was having a good dream, one where his latest volume was completed and he was celebrating with fried chicken and lots of sleep. Sleep, Jongin thinks, yes, very good, and tries to lull himself back into the warm hands of slumber.
It doesn’t work. His editor swats him upside the head with something heavy and Jongin jerks up so fast he sends himself toppling over in his chair. He crashes to the floor with a loud, painful sound, and glares up at his manager.
Junmyeon is not a very tall person, but right now he seems to be towering over Jongin, a scowl on his face and one of Jongin’s own manhwas in his hand. “Good,” he says, suddenly breaking into a wide smile. “You’re up.”
He drops the book and Jongin is too disoriented to dodge it in time. It flops onto his head and then to the floor and he grumbles at Junmyeon, rubbing his wound. Junmyeon pulls his chair back up, wheeling it so it slides in under Jongin’s desk. He shuffles some of the papers across the surface, muttering to himself about Jongin being a right mess, which Jongin thinks is totally unfair because Junmyeon is one of the messiest people he knows.
“Leave it, hyung, I’ll do it,” Jongin says.
“No, you go sit down over there and listen to what I have to tell you,” Junmyeon says sternly, pointing over to the small couch against the adjacent wall.
Jongin rolls his eyes as he stands up, wincing slightly as the fall had really stung his hip. He rubs at it with a palm. “I know what you’re going to say. I know I’m behind,” Jongin says. He forgoes the couch and heads for the kitchen instead. He needs some ice.
“A month behind!” Junmyeon exclaims, following him. “Have you even finished anything?”
Two pages, Jongin thinks, but he knows that will just give Junmyeon an aneurism, so he keeps it to himself. Sometimes it’s better for Junmyeon to think he’s completely hopeless. Instead he just shrugs noncommittally and turns away to grab an ice pack from the freezer. Junmyeon makes an exasperated sound behind him and then stomps back to the other room. Jongin can hear him shuffling through his work again, clearly trying to gauge how far he’s gotten. He’s not going to be too happy, but Jongin is too tired to care.
By the time Jongin’s fixed himself a cup of coffee and returned, pressing the pack of ice to his hip, Junmyeon has relatively cleaned up Jongin’s workspace. He’s sitting on the couch with one of Jongin’s thick sketchbooks in hand, sifting through the pages.
“This one,” he says the instant Jongin walks in. “This character. He’s good.”
Jongin peers at the page and feels his face burn a bit. “He’s no one,” he says as he sits down at his desk again, sets his mug off to the side. “Just some person I saw at the park a week ago.”
Junmyeon looks up, eyes intense as he assesses Jongin. It makes Jongin squirm uncomfortably. Eventually Junmyeon just laughs, like he knows something Jongin doesn’t, and turns the page. “Well, it’s good. You could use him in something.” Then he narrows his eyes at Jongin. “But you could do well to work on your actual manhwa then sketch caricatures of some guy you don’t know like a creep.”
“Go away,” Jongin whines, reaching out to tug his sketchbook back with a pout.
Junmyeon lets him take it, but he doesn’t move. Instead he stretches out on the couch and says, “I’m not going anywhere until you’ve at least finished the chapter.”
Jongin groans again, dropping his head onto his desk. The last thing he wants to do is work on his manhwa, his fingers itching already to sketch out another image of the guy he saw at the park.
“Get to work!” Junmyeon shouts and Jongin heaves a big sigh, pushes everything else out of his brain and does.
Jongin doesn’t know the man’s name, how old he is or where he lives. He just happened to see him at the park a few blocks from Jongin’s apartment on a Saturday afternoon when Jongin felt too cooped up inside and needed a break. The late February air made it still too cold to stay outdoors for too long, but Jongin bundled up warmly, brought his sketchbook with him and sat at a bench in the middle of the park. He could hear children screaming and laughing behind him, the sound of snow crunching under their feet as they played. He doesn’t have to look to be able to draw out happy smiles and round, bright eyes onto his paper. It’s not that easy to draw with a gloved hand, but Jongin has been doing this for many years, it’s almost like second nature.
He people-watches a lot, and he’s quick to memorize every detail of the images he sees. The way the branches on the trees in front of him are stark and bare. The shape of a boot print in the snow just inches away from his feet. The dark curve of the sidewalk between the white mounds of snow, the single lost red glove that’s resting atop a garbage can. He draws practically everything he sets his eyes on. It clears his head from the project he should be doing, the school uniforms starting to be too much for him these days. No more school stories, he decides. Junmyeon won’t like that very much, but Jongin doesn’t care.
He’s just about to pack up and head home, maybe stop by a cafe for some warm coffee, when he sees him. Or really, hears him, a loud bark of a laugh that startles Jongin. Other than the children laughing, it’s been relatively quiet, the winter chill keeping most people indoors. He doesn’t have to look far before he finds the source, the deep laughter coming from a young man on the other side of the path, sitting crosslegged in the snow with a small dog running around him. It’s a black Scottish Terrier and it yips excitedly as it flies around in the snow, and the man is grinning widely as he plays with it. He has soft brown hair peeking out just barely from under a fuzzy hat that cover his ears, and he’s wearing a thick poofy jacket.
Jongin is drawing before he even realizes it, filling the page with sketches of this man’s big, hearty smile, intrigued by the way it makes his face a little contorted, one eye squinting more than the other. His clear happiness radiates off of him, and Jongin feels impossibly warm as he draws him into his book. He’s not even sure why he’s so fixated, but he can’t seem to look away, watching as discreetly as possible so he doesn’t get caught. The man runs around a tree with the terrier at his heels, and Jongin takes in the length of his legs, the heavy black boots that leave giant imprints in the snow as he moves.
Jongin’s not sure how much time he spends drawing this person he’s never seen before, but by the time the man and his dog leave, he has about four pages full of sketches of just him and the beginnings of a terrible problem.
Jongin doesn’t expect to ever see that guy again. Real life isn’t like the hopelessly romantic girly manhwas he spends everyday drawing. He’s not magically in love with some guy he saw in a park and drew his face over four pages in his sketchbook. He can, grudgingly, admit that the guy was kinda handsome, definitely cute. His smile forever engrained in Jongin’s brain and even the rich, happy sound of his laughter replaying in his ears like a broken record. But that doesn’t mean anything. Jongin just found him particularly interesting. From an artist’s perspective. That’s it. It’s just like the time he was fixated with the way Baekhyun’s mouth goes all rectangle-shaped when he laughs and filled a page or two with doodles of it.
But maybe he has to rethink the way the world works because it’s not even a month later that Jongin runs into the man from the park. Thankfully he doesn’t actually run into him, perhaps the world hasn’t turned entirely into a manhwa just yet, but Jongin is settling into a chair at his favorite coffee shop and he sees, across the room, a familiar man working his way through a donut, his phone in his other hand. He’s wearing the same fuzzy hat and the heavy boots and, as Jongin stares, he smiles the same smile that Jongin hasn’t been able to shake out of his head.
Jongin came here to get away from work again, but mostly from Junmyeon obnoxiously calling him every ten minutes to check his progress. He’d left his phone at home just to ignore him, and there will probably be over a 100 missed messages by the time he gets back and Jongin might have to resort to Sohma Shigure levels of avoidance, but Jongin just needs a break.
More than any of that though, Jongin never expected to see this guy again. He might have secretly hoped to, once or twice, when he ends up doodling the man’s face into the corner of pages that he should be filling with his latest work, or onto post-it notes that end up littering the floor of his apartment.
Okay, so maybe Jongin hasn’t been able to get this guy’s face out of his head. But that definitely doesn’t mean anything.
It certainly doesn’t mean anything when he pulls out his sketchbook, turns to a clean page and starts to draw him again. Jongin does this all the time and rarely do people ever notice he’s watching them and transferring their features onto paper. So Jongin definitely doesn’t expect to glance up from his page and actually meet the man’s eyes that he’s been staring at for maybe an hour now, staring right back at him.
Jongin almost drops his pen in shock, instead quickly lowers his gaze and refuses to look back up. Maybe he hasn’t actually noticed, and they just happened to look at each other at the same time. Maybe he won’t care and leave Jongin alone.
Except Jongin hears the scratch of a chair against the floor, and when he glances out of the corner of his eye, he sees those familiar boots walking toward him. He starts to panic, but there’s no way he can pack up all his stuff and leave before he’s confronted. If he’s confronted. Maybe the guy is leaving.
He doesn’t. He plops himself down in the chair on the other side of Jongin’s small table and leans forward on his elbows. “What’re you drawing?” he asks, and Jongin’s mouth goes dry. His voice is deep, rumbling down Jongin’s spine. It’s nice.
He flushes, scrambling to hide his sketchbook so the man can’t see. “I-I'm not drawing you, if that's what you think!" Jongin exclaims quickly, even though he knows he's not fooling anyone, really. He hates how shrill he sounds. He tries to stuff his sketchbook back into his bag, but the man is faster, yanking it out of his hands.
"Oh, really?" he says, grinning slowly. He has perfect white teeth Jongin notices in the haze of his life falling apart around him. "You were staring at me quite a bit. I mean, I know I'm devastatingly handsome, but that's more than I usually get from people."
Jongin’s face is burning as hot as his coffee. He swallows and says weakly, "Please give that back."
"Not until I've had a look," the man says, and he flips open to a random page. Jongin breathes a sigh of relief because it's not a page full of the man’s own face; just some sketches of the buildings around Jongin's apartment that he can see from his balcony. A few doodles of Zitao’s cat. He gnaws on his lower lip, glances up at the man’s face, surprised to find how his eyes are wide. "You drew this?" he asks, and he sounds...impressed. Jongin blinks. "You're really good."
Then he flips through a few more pages, until he reaches the last one Jongin was working on. He tries to yank the book back then, but the man holds it up over his head. "You were drawing me!" he exclaims, practically slamming the book to the table with a loud bang and almost knocking Jongin's coffee over. People are looking over at them, Jongin vaguely notices, but he’s more surprised by the fact that the man doesn't look angry, or disturbed. In fact, he looks rather flattered, if the smirk on his face is any indication.
Jongin doesn't know what to say. This hasn’t happened before. Not with a stranger. He draws his friends all the time, and they snatch his work out of his hands whenever they please, mostly to gripe about how he draws everything wrong. Sehun complains that his face doesn’t look so flat and bread-like, but Jongin tells him he only draws what he sees. That only ever earns him a punch in the gut; he should really know better by now.
But he’s never been caught by someone he doesn’t know. If anyone notices him sketching, they either leave him alone, or kindly ask what he’s drawing and usually it ends up being something inane like the streetlights or a storefront. No one has ever caught him drawing them and the anxiety is bubbling so rapidly inside of him right now that Jongin feels like he might throw up.
The man is continuing to stare, leer, at him, eyes bright and the slightest quirk of a smirk on his pretty lips. Jongin shouldn’t be noticing that. Fuck. He quickly tugs his book back from the man’s hands.
"Hey, I was looking!" he exclaims.
"I think you've seen enough," he says, his voice wobbling a little. He’s so flustered, and it doesn't help that this guy seems like he has no intention of leaving.
Instead, he leans his elbows on the table again and asks, "Why were you drawing me?" He pauses, tilts his head and considers for a moment, then adds, "What's your name? Are you some kind of artist?"
Jongin's not sure he wants to divulge all this information to some (admittedly attractive) man he doesn't know. So he just hugs his sketchbook to his chest and says, "What's your name?"
Surprised, the man blinks at him before letting out a laugh. He settles back into his chair, stretching his legs out under the table. They bump against Jongin's. His legs are long, but not that Jongin has been looking. "Chanyeol," he says easily, like he comes up to stranger's tables in coffee shops and talks to them all the time. The way he seems completely at ease, all nonchalance and happy smile, tells Jongin he probably does. "Now what's yours?"
Jongin is still a little wary, but he manages to tell him his name. The man -- Chanyeol, Jongin corrects in his head -- stares at him expectantly, and it takes Jongin a moment to realize he's waiting to hear his answers to his other questions. He sighs, slouching in his chair and staring at his mug of coffee. It's probably gone cold by now. "Yes, I'm an artist. Sort of. I draw manhwa." He winces slightly as he says it, because he hasn't always had good reactions from people he doesn't know, when he admits what his profession is. Chanyeol, though, doesn't seem perturbed.
"And you were drawing me, because?"
Dammit, Jongin was hoping he'd forget about that question. The blush is back on his face and he's sure Chanyeol can see it. He presses his palms to his cheeks and looks anywhere but at him, but it seems like Chanyeol puts two and two together because he's leaning back over the table, almost too close into Jongin's personal space.
"Ah, so you do think I'm devastatingly handsome," he says, delighted.
Jongin is tempted to throw his coffee into Chanyeol's face. Instead he only squawks indignantly, feels the blush slink down his neck as Chanyeol's face contorts into what seems to be amusement.
"Don't worry, I'm not angry or anything," he says, waving a large hand. "It's cool. And you're pretty cute, you know, so I don't mind."
Jongin wonders if it's possible to die from blushing too much. He groans and hides his face in his hands. "I-I'm sorry, okay? I won't draw you anymore, so can you please just...leave?" Jongin mumbles through his fingers.
"Dude, relax," Chanyeol says and Jongin jolts when he feels warm hands grab his own and tug them away from his face. He pulls his hands back quickly and drops them to his lap. Chanyeol doesn't seem to be bothered. “I said it's okay. Are you gonna use me as inspiration for your next manhwa?"
Jongin opens his mouth and closes it a few times, at a complete loss. Chanyeol grins widely at him and before Jongin knows what's happening, Chanyeol's grabbed the pen Jongin had been using and then his sketchbook, right out of Jongin's grasp. He flips to the page with his face all over it, and then scrawls something right in the middle where there’s room.
"If you ever need better details on my face or something, give me a call," he says, and fucking winks at Jongin before he closes the book and sets the pen on top. Then he stands and Jongin is definitely taken aback by how tall he is. "Nice to meet you, Kim Jongin," he says, and Jongin is still in the midst of processing what's happened that by the time everything hits him, Chanyeol is long gone.
With shaky hands he pulls his book over to him, opens it to the last worked on page, and finds Chanyeol's name and number, and a tiny note underneath:
i definitely don't mind cute boys drawing me, next time just ask and i'll pose however you like ;)
“Who is Park Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo questions, startling Jongin into choking on his glass of water. He spits water down his front and Kyungsoo looks at him with disgust from where he’s sitting at the kitchen table.
Jongin hastily wipes his chin with the back of his hand and says, “What?”
“Park Chanyeol. This guy who left his number in your book,” Kyungsoo says, pointing to the page. He raises an eyebrow at Jongin and slowly smirks. “Did little Jongin go out and meet someone?”
Jongin wants to demand who he’s calling little, but he knows better than to bring that up to Kyungsoo’s face. “NO,” he exclaims loudly instead, waving his hands in the air dramatically like that will prove his point. When Kyungsoo just stares at him blankly, he drops them, along with his shoulders, slumping in defeat and turning back to the stove to finish cooking. “He’s some guy I met at a coffee shop. Long story. I’m not interested or anything though! You know I’m not looking.”
“But he called you cute,” Kyungsoo says sweetly, like Jongin has forgotten. Like Jongin hasn’t thought about it practically everyday since he met Chanyeol. Jongin hates his traitorous brain.
“So what, you call me cute.”
“I don’t count,” Kyungsoo says. “And I’m not the one you have a page full of stalker drawings.”
“I’m not stalking him!” Jongin says loudly, his voice going a little high-pitched at the end. “I just saw him once at the park and then happened to see him again at a coffee shop. When he caught me, and...well. Yeah.” He shuts up, embarrassed, and turns away again. He’s going to burn the food if he keeps getting distracted. But then maybe Kyungsoo will push him away and take over, which is better for them both. Jongin will probably end up poisoning them.
“So you’re not going to call him?” Kyungsoo asks. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares Jongin down like he’s in trouble and he’s trying to get Jongin to admit it first.
“I said I’m not looking.”
“You should be looking.”
“I’m perfectly happy!”
“You’re a mess.”
Jongin turns to him with a pout. “You’re mean,” he says and Kyungsoo just laughs, pleased. “And I’m not a mess,” he adds as an afterthought, reaching up to open a cupboard and pull out a plate.
“Jongin, you basically spend all your time indoors working, and when you’re not working, you watch reruns of Pokemon and buy DBZ figurines,” he says flatly. “The last time you’ve been on a date was like, what? High school?”
“Very funny,” Jongin says. “There was that guy, a few years ago, remember? Taemin?”
“You dated for like two weeks,” Kyungsoo deadpans. “That’s barely anything. It could do you good, you know. You spend all your time writing about magical romances but you never let yourself experience once.”
Now Kyungsoo sounds mildly concerned, like he’s actually worried about Jongin’s bachelor status and the fact that yes, it really has been a long time since he’s been in a serious relationship. Jongin sighs, runs a hand through his hair and takes the pan off the stove, carefully sliding the vegetables and chicken mixture onto the plate.
“I don’t want a magical romance,” Jongin says, setting the dish onto his small kitchen table. Kyungsoo looks at him skeptically. “Really,” he insists. “I draw these things because it’s fun, but real life is not like that. And it’s not going to happen with some weird guy I met at the coffee shop, okay?” He gives Kyungsoo his best glare, which doesn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever. “So drop it, okay?”
Kyungsoo puts his hands up placatingly, but then says with a wicked grin, “But when he asks you out and you say yes, like I know you will, I reserve all rights to say I told you so.”
Jongin just laughs and agrees because there’s no way that will ever happen.
Real life seems to be testing him. When Jongin runs into Chanyeol again, it’s a month later, long after Jongin has (mostly) forgotten all about his face and his voice and his number scrawled in his sketchbook. He’s been too busy to think about him anyway, finally finishing up the chapter in his latest volume and starting in on the new one. He definitely hasn’t kept his eye out at the park or that coffee shop for a familiar face, definitely hasn’t doodled those pretty lips and that furry hat into the corners of napkins or anything. Nope, not at all.
Junmyeon’s always told Jongin he’s not a very good liar.
So when he runs into Chanyeol at a grocery store of all places, he’s sure the world is testing him. Trying to see how much he can handle. Maybe this is punishment for drawing strangers without their consent.
Jongin tries to be as inconspicuous as possible, but when Chanyeol winds up in line to check out right behind him, it doesn’t take very long for him to notice. He’s got that familiar smile on his face, but he’s not wearing that furry cap of his and his hair is a pretty brown that flops into his face. Jongin wonders if it’s as soft as it looks, but then quickly berates himself for even thinking such a thing.
“Hey, why didn’t you ever call me?” Chanyeol asks him after he gets over his initial excitement of running into Jongin. He’s pouting now, and it’s distracting, but not enough to mask the surprise in Jongin’s veins.
“Did you want me to?” he asks haltingly. The tiny spark that lights up inside of him is something Jongin hasn’t felt in a long time. Happy, maybe. A little flattered. He was 90% sure that Chanyeol had left his number facetiously, but perhaps that assumption was wrong. Even though Jongin thought about doing it (more than he'd like to admit), it's not like he knew the first thing about Chanyeol and he wasn't gonna call him up to ask to draw his face because that's totally weird, right? Right.
Chanyeol laughs and smirks at him a bit. "Why wouldn't I want the cute artist I met at the coffee shop to call me?"
Jongin really hates how Chanyeol throws him off balance every time and he has to force himself not to blush at his words. Jongin clenches his fingers around the basket he’s carrying of chips, milk and vegetables, while Chanyeol swings a case a beer at his side.
"Say, what're you doing tomorrow?" Chanyeol asks him suddenly, leaning in so he can whisper into Jongin's ear. Jongin jerks back, almost knocking over a display stand, and Chanyeol reaches out to steady him with a hand at his waist. "Whoa, relax. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," Jongin says quickly, "I'm fine." Just terribly embarrassed, he thinks, cursing his life. He shouldn't have even left his studio; his deadline is quickly approaching and he should've just stayed there finishing up the chapter and made Junmyeon bring over food or something. But instead he's run into the one person he can't stop thinking about, who now has his hand resting on his waist, touch warm through his skin. Jongin swallows thickly and steps away just enough that Chanyeol's hand drops away, and then turns away from him, facing the front of the line. Just two people before him before he can escape.
"I looked for your manhwa," Chanyeol says conversationally and that has Jongin blinking in surprise. He turns back to him slowly. Chanyeol is still smiling; Jongin wonders how he can do that, but his smile is really nice, so it’s not exactly like he minds. "But I couldn't find anything by someone named Kim Jongin."
Jongin actually laughs. "I don't write under my real name," he says.
"Unfair," Chanyeol whines. "What is your pen name then?"
Jongin shrugs. "Try and guess," he tells him, and the way Chanyeol narrows his eyes at him makes Jongin finally feel like he has the upper foot here.
Of course it doesn't last though, because just as they move up a spot in the line, Chanyeol says, "You never did say if you were free tomorrow."
Jongin has to work on his volume, has to finish it before Junmyeon threatens to kill him. He should even clean his apartment that's become a complete mess as his focus has been on work. He definitely doesn't have any free time, but yet he somehow ends up saying, "I'm mostly free, I guess."
"Then you should let me buy you lunch," Chanyeol says easily, smiling at Jongin in a way that makes his heart traitorously skip a beat. "You can even draw more of my face, if you want."
Jongin groans. "Let that go, okay?" he pleads, even though the entire time they've been talking, Jongin has been trying to memorize the curve of his eyes, he smoothness of his lips. The way his brown hair falls almost effortlessly into his face. He's even burned the image of his hands clutching the case of beer, the thick black coat he's wearing and the scuff marks on his shoes. He's itching to go home and sketch everything out.
He wonders if that's all obvious on his face because Chanyeol is smirking at him. "Say yes," he says, and god, Jongin hates that he finds Chanyeol's easy confidence so attractive.
What he wants to ask is why, why do you even want to have lunch with me, why do you care, but those words don’t come out. Instead he curses himself and the fact that Kyungsoo is always, always fucking right. “Fine,” he says, as grudgingly as he can because he doesn't want Chanyeol to think he's really interested. “Fine, I’ll go.”
The big, bright grin that Chanyeol gives him then almost, almost, makes everything worth it.
Jongin doesn’t tell a soul about Chanyeol. He doesn’t need that sort of humiliation in his life. It’s humiliating enough that he let some stranger wheedle his way into successfully asking him out. Not that this is a date or anything. No. Jongin is just curious. Right.
Chanyeol had asked to meet him at the coffee shop where they’d first met the next day. Jongin gets there a little early, stopping inside to order a drink that can help fight the chill in his bones. He sits at a table by the window so he can see when Chanyeol comes and fiddles with his phone as he waits. He’s not nervous, definitely not, but he’s thankful that he doesn’t have to wait too long.
There’s a slight rap at the window just beside his head, startling Jongin so much he drops his phone to the floor. Chanyeol is hiding a laugh behind a hand once Jongin hastily picks it up and turns to him. He’s wearing a black cap that says ILLEGAL across the front and that poofy jacket of his. He grins, and waves to Jongin to come outside, so Jongin heaves a deep breath and leaves the comfort of the shop.
Chanyeol meets him by the door. “You really came,” he says, sounding simultaneously surprised and pleased.
“I said I would,” Jongin replies, not quite meeting his eyes. He curls his gloved fingers around his styrofoam cup.
“I’m glad,” Chanyeol says, and the soft tone of his voice sends a little shiver down Jongin’s spine. He blames it on the cold. Chanyeol tugs gently at the sleeve of his coat at his elbow, steering him around the corner. “Come on, I hope you like jeon.”
It’s a place Jongin’s been to before, which helps him relax quite a bit as they settle into chairs and shrug off their layers. Chanyeol pulls off his cap to ruffle his hair and then sets it back on, only backwards this time. It makes his ears stick out a little more but it suits him, Jongin thinks, before he quickly drops his eyes to the menu. It doesn’t take much time for them to order, and Jongin plays with the ends of his scarf as nervousness starts to coil in his stomach.
“No sketchbook today?” Chanyeol asks him curiously.
Jongin shakes his head. “I didn’t think it’d be nice to whip that out in the middle of lunch,” he says. Not to mention he doesn’t need Chanyeol to look through it and find more sketches of himself that Jongin has drawn from memory.
“I wouldn’t have minded,” Chanyeol says. “Especially if you were gonna draw me.”
Jongin bristles a little. He wishes Chanyeol would stop bringing that up, nevermind the fact that it is the reason they met. “Look,” he says carefully, “if the only reason you, uh, asked me out was to constantly make fun of me for that, I--”
“No! No,” Chanyeol says quickly, waving his hands dismissively. His eyes go a little wide. “I’m not trying to make fun of you, honest. I think it’s flattering.” He grins. “And I think your art is really cool. I can’t draw to save my life, so.”
Jongin licks his lips. Some of the worry that had built up inside of him ever since he agreed to having lunch with Chanyeol fades away at his words. He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, thanks, I guess,” he says uncertainly.
“Don’t be so nervous, Jongin,” Chanyeol says, and the sound of his name has Jongin’s chest a little warm. “It’s like you’ve never been on a date before.”
Fuck, so this is a date. Jongin fidgets uncomfortably and Chanyeol blinks at him, slow realization crossing over his face.
“You haven’t?” he exclaims.
“Of course I have!” Jongin snaps. He slouches a little then, fists his hands into his jeans at his knees. “It’s just, well, been a long time.” He glances up at Chanyeol. “And I don’t even know you.”
“We’ll just have to change that, won’t we?” Chanyeol claps his hands together delightedly Jongin wonders just what he’s gotten himself into.
By the time their food arrives, Jongin learns a few things about Chanyeol. His confidence practically radiates off of him, he never seems to stop talking, and he is, to Jongin’s dismay, really, really cute. Jongin is not very good with people, least of all people he doesn’t know, but that doesn’t seem to bother Chanyeol at all. He directs the conversation with such ease that it isn’t long before Jongin is laughing amiably and not constantly worrying over every little thing. He is constantly distracted though, by the deep, pleasant sound of Chanyeol’s voice, the pink of his lips, the way his eyes get all bright when he laughs.
“So are you gonna tell me the name of your manhwa, or am I gonna have to guess?” Chanyeol asks him halfway through their meal. He has some crumbs on the corner of his mouth that he licks off with the tip of his tongue, and Jongin has to tear his eyes away, reaching for his glass of water.
He takes a quick sip and answers, “I think I’ll make you guess. It’s more fun that way.”
Chanyeol pouts and Jongin wishes he would stop doing that. Then he straightens his back and says, “Fine. I’ll figure it out.”
Jongin chuckles. “Good luck.”
“If I get it right, you’ll let me take you out again,” Chanyeol suggests and the eagerness in his voice makes Jongin flush.
“If you get it wrong?”
“You still let me take you again again.”
That startles a loud laugh out of Jongin, who wasn’t expecting that answer. He hides his mouth with a hand as he laughs, and Chanyeol’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before fading into something that makes heat curl up in the pit of Jongin’s belly. He’s smiling slowly, gaze impossibly warm, and Jongin has to focus on his food to get his heart to calm down.
“That-That doesn’t seem fair,” Jongin manages to get out. He picks up a bit of kimchi jeon and pops it into his mouth.
“I don’t know, it seems like a pretty good deal to me,” Chanyeol says. “So, give me a few hints at least, so I can narrow down my search.”
Jongin is not good at this, so he asks, “What do you want to know?”
Chanyeol purses his lips and taps his fingertip against them as he thinks. Jongin sits back in his chair and watches him, amused. He is really cute, but he’s fun, too. He’s nice. He seems genuinely interested in Jongin, even if he does come on a little too strong.
“Okay, is the main character a girl or boy?” he asks.
“A girl.”
“Is this a high school story?”
Jongin hesitates. “Yes.”
Chanyeol tilts his head at him, considers. “You write girly romance manhwa, don’t you?”
“So what if I do?” Jongin replies as scathingly as he can manage, except he’s pretty sure it sounds more like a weak whine.
Laughing, Chanyeol shakes his head and waves a hand at him again. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” he says, and he squints at Jongin. “I can see it.”
That makes Jongin feel slightly uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly in his seat. He’s not sure how to reply so he just keeps quiet, focusing on finishing his lunch while Chanyeol pops a piece of jeon into his mouth and chews, brows knitted in thought.
“Is this straight up high school romance or is there like, magic and evil witches and moon princesses?” he asks.
Jongin snorts. “No, it’s not like Sailor Moon.”
“Shame,” Chanyeol says. “That would’ve been cool.”
“One last question,” Jongin says, and when Chanyeol frowns at him, he adds, “Can’t make it too easy for you.” He shrugs, drops his gaze to his plate again.
“Fine, I’ll make the last one count,” Chanyeol says. He eats some more of his meal as he thinks and Jongin watches him curiously. He’s not so sure why Chanyeol seems to care so much, but it’s kind of...fun, this way, trying to make him guess. Chanyeol doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would know much about manhwa aside from One Piece or Gundam Wing, but Jongin has been in the business long enough to know that you can never tell. Like Jongin knew Kyungsoo for three years before he learned of his love of Prince of Tennis, but that might also be because Kyungsoo is exceptionally good at keeping secrets.
“Okay,” Chanyeol says decisively a few minutes later, leaning toward Jongin almost conspiratorily as he gears up to ask his last question, “this is definitely important. Do you write the rated stuff?”
Jongin lets out a startled laugh, tilting his head back as his shoulders shake in amusement. “That’s your big question?” he gasps out, clutching at his stomach. His face feels warm and the way Chanyeol is looking at him like he did earlier, soft eyes, affectionate, almost, really doesn’t help one bit, but he can’t stop the grin that stretches across his lips.
“Hey, I was trying to be clever. There’s not nearly as much of that rated stuff as there is the non-rated stuff,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin’s not sure how he knows that. “I was hoping you did because it’d narrow down the field, but I’m guessing from your reaction that you don’t.”
“I don’t,” Jongin confirms and Chanyeol curses under his breath. “Nice try, though.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Do you have an actual guess now?”
Chanyeol surprises him with a couple of decent guesses, even if Wild Forest Maiden is about a lesbian couple and Jongin’s story is not, and that SM Academy has all these monsters in it that Jongin hasn’t ever been interested in drawing.
“Love in the Mask isn’t high school,” he points out with a laugh, “though it is a good story.” He peers at Chanyeol and asks, “How do you even know about all of these?”
Chanyeol rubs at his nose, his cheeks turning a little pink. Jongin is amazed, because in all the time they’ve spent together, though admittedly short, Chanyeol has never looked as embarrassed as he does right now. “I have an older sister,” he says and Jongin fails to stifle a laugh. He’s heard that before. “No! I really do. I haven’t actually read them myself!”
“Sure,” Jongin says lightly as he lifts his glass of water for a drink. “Whatever you say.”
Chanyeol groans, rubs at his face. “Reading girly manhwa is not nearly as strange for a guy as it is for him to draw it,” he grumbles, and it’s clearly just a defensive comment but Jongin doesn’t find it all that funny.
Actually, it kind of stings because Jongin has really enjoyed himself today, having lunch with Chanyeol and being able to talk about his work, however vaguely, without being judged for it. He didn’t think Chanyeol cared, it certainly seemed like he didn’t care, his comments and interest always genuine even if slightly invasive. But this, well. Jongin didn’t come here for this.
He licks his lips and pushes his chair back, mutters, “I think it’s time for me to go.”
The stricken look on Chanyeol’s face is enough for him to know Chanyeol really didn’t mean it, but that doesn’t make Jongin feel any better, truthfully. “No, wait, don’t go,” Chanyeol says even as Jongin stands and zips up his coat.
“It was fun,” Jongin says, lightly shrugging as he wraps his scarf around his neck. “I’ll...see you, I guess.”
He leaves before the incredibly kicked-puppy look in Chanyeol’s eyes makes him sit back down again. It’s windy outside and Jongin stuff his hands into his pockets and barely makes it down the street before Chanyeol’s caught up with him, a firm hand grabbing his elbow to stop him.
“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says in a rush. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve heard it before,” Jongin says. He stares at the pavement instead of Chanyeol’s face.
“That doesn’t make it okay,” Chanyeol says, “and I really am sorry. I don’t want to you leave, I was really having a good time.”
Jongin can’t believe that he’s actually starting to forgive him, about maybe even letting Chanyeol take him wherever else he might have had planned for the day. Maybe it’s the warmth of his hand on his arm that’s distracting him, making him feel these ridiculous things. Jongin tugs his arm away and shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he tells him. “But I really should go home. I have a lot of work to do and--”
“Give me your number,” Chanyeol cuts in and when Jongin looks up at him, gaping, Chanyeol repeats his request more urgently. “Come on.” He holds out his phone for Jongin, who hesitates for a second before taking it. He keys in his number and hands it back and Chanyeol grins at him widely. “Since you clearly don’t want to call me, I’ll just have to call you,” he says.
“Maybe that just means you can’t take a hint,” Jongin returns, frowning, but Chanyeol laughs and leans in close.
“You wouldn’t have met me today if that’s what you really wanted,” he whispers into Jongin’s ear and Jongin face burns. He really hates how Chanyeol does that.
“I’m leaving,” he says, turning on his heel and heading off toward his apartment and he really hates how he can’t help the grin that takes over his face when he hears Chanyeol shout, “I’ll call you!” after him.
A sharp pinching pain jolts Jongin awake, swatting at the back of his neck as he blinks out the sleep in his eyes.
"Awake now?" Kyungsoo says dryly, and he pinches the back of Jongin's neck again for good measure. “That’s the sixth time you’ve fallen asleep today, I think that’s a new record.”
Jongin groans, rubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms. He blearily stares down at his workspace, the scattered pages from the newest chapter, the smudged ink along the shape of a body he was drawing when he must’ve dozed off. That probably means there’s ink on his face but he doesn’t care enough to get up and check. It happens a lot.
“Where’s Yifan-hyung?” he asks, glancing around the studio. Kyungsoo’s space is neat and tidy as usual, while Yifan’s a little more of a mess. Jongin’s desk is the worst and it constantly gets on Kyungsoo’s nerves, but Jongin insists he knows where everything is and if Kyungsoo tries to clean up without his permission, then Jongin threatens to make a right disaster out of Kyungsoo’s area. It’s really the only way to keep him away.
“He went to get some lunch for everyone,” Kyungsoo says, returning to his desk. “By the way, your phone has beeped like ten times and if you don’t turn it off or answer whoever is calling you, I’m throwing your phone out the window.” He smiles at Jongin who shudders slightly and nods, reaching for his phone that he set atop a small shelf against the back of his desk.
“It’s probably just my mom,” Jongin mutters, because he hasn’t talked to her in awhile and she likes to call to make sure he eats and complain that he’s taking too long to release the next volume. Except when Jongin keys in his code and checks his messages, he has four new ones and none of them are from his mother. They’re all from Chanyeol.
Jongin feels his face heat up instantly. It’s been a few days since their...date, and Jongin was still too uncertain about messaging Chanyeol first. What would he even say? When Chanyeol hadn’t called him or anything soon after, Jongin figured that was that. But now…
hey jongin, since i haven’t heard from you yet, i think i’ll take the first step here and text you. i get the feeling you’re a little shy, or something, but that’s totally okay. i think it’s cute. ;)
The heat in Jongin’s cheeks starts to spread down his neck.
oh! how about girls of the wild?? that’s totally high school and the main character’s a chick, so it works. right?
i think you’re gonna have to give me some more hints
why are there so many high school manhwas in the first place???
Jongin laughs out loud at that, amused by the way Chanyeol is so determined to figure out what he’s written. He’s about to reply back to him that Girls of the Wild is a good guess, but not his, when his phone beeps again in his hands. He can feel Kyungsoo’s narrowed eyes on him, and his stomach coils slightly as he reads the newest message.
are you free right now? let’s get lunch!
“What was that about not being interested again?” Kyungsoo says, leaning over Jongin’s shoulder and speaking near his right ear.
Jongin jerks away, slamming a hand to his ear and cringing. Kyungsoo straightens up, crossing his arms over his chest and looking terribly smug. Fuck.
"Don't say it--" Jongin starts.
"I told you so," Kyungsoo says and Jongin sighs, wonders why he even bothers. There's not much Kyungsoo likes more than being right. Except maybe the sounds Baekhyun makes when Kyungsoo chokeholds him, but that's something Jongin doesn't like to think about.
"We've only had lunch once," Jongin says weakly. "I'm not even sure that I like him."
"Like who?" Yifan's voice questions as he appears from behind the door, a couple of takeout bags in his hand and snow in his hair. He kicks the door shut behind him and blinks at Jongin and Kyungsoo.
"No one," Jongin says quickly, but Kyungsoo spills everything without batting an eye.
Yifan grins at Jongin though, like he's proud or something, instead of amused like Kyungsoo. "That's good, isn't it?" he says, ruffling Jongin's hair as he passes by to the small table they have in the corner for dining. He sets the bags on top and shrugs out of his fur-collared coat. He's wearing terrible leather pants and Jongin doesn't understand how he stands it, in this cold.
"Why are you both so invested in my lovelife?" Jongin grumbles.
"Because you haven't had one in years," Kyungsoo unhelpfully answers and Jongin wonders what Kyungsoo would do if he threw a shoe at his head. "And clearly he likes you, since he asked you out for lunch just now."
"He did?" Yifan says, and he frowns at Jongin apologetically. "I wouldn't have gotten you anything if I'd--"
"It's okay," Jongin waves him off. "We have a lot of work today. I'll tell him some other time." Even as he says it, he feels a little bad. But definitely not because he wants to see Chanyeol again or anything. Nope.
"Are you sure?" Yifan asks, looking genuinely concerned and Jongin nods.
"It's no big deal. Like I said, I don't even really like him, I--"
"Stop lying and come eat," Kyungsoo cuts over him and Jongin glares at Kyungsoo's back before sighing.
He looks down at his phone and considers for a few long moments.
i'm busy this afternoon, but how about dinner?
He practically chews through his bottom lip before he finally plucks up enough courage to send it. Two seconds later, he grins slowly and adds:
and ur wrong again about the manhwa. if we meet tonight, i can give you more hints
Not even five minutes later does his phone beep again and Jongin snatches it off the table before Kyungsoo does.
dinner sounds great! how about around seven? meet me at this address. i'm looking forward to seeing you again ;)
Jongin licks his lips and sends back a quick i'll be there before setting his phone down.
"Awww, he's blushing," Kyungsoo says, overly sweet, and Yifan snickers, eyes amused.
Jongin would glare, or threaten to fire them, but for some reason he just feels a bit too happy and just ducks his head and focuses on eating and not on the fact that Chanyeol invited him to his own home tonight.
“Sorry I’m late,” Jongin says when Chanyeol opens the door for him later that evening.
Chanyeol shakes his head, smiling widely at Jongin before suddenly blinking and tilting his head. The reaction has Jongin a little self-conscious, but then Chanyeol says, “Glasses. I haven’t seen you with those before.”
“Ah, yeah,” Jongin says, touches the frame of his black-rimmed glasses a little uncertainly. “My contacts were bothering me so I switched.”
“You look really cute in them,” Chanyeol says and Jongin refuses to blush. He refuses. “You should wear the glasses more.” His grins and reaches out to tug Jongin into his apartment. “Come on in, you look cold. I’m making some tea right now, unless you want something else?”
“T-Tea is fine,” Jongin says, surprised by Chanyeol’s warm welcome and complete ease. He takes a slow breath, trying to calm himself down and follows Chanyeol inside, hefting his backpack full of work stuff over his shoulder. He slips out of his shoes in the doorway.
Chanyeol’s apartment is small, but much more inviting than Jongin's, which is nearly a mess everyday. Everything here seems to be right in it's place, from the line of sneakers in the doorway to the perfectly stacked CD and DVD cases on the tall shelf by the television. Jongin sets his backpack down on the couch and shrugs off his coat; Chanyeol takes it from him wordlessly to put away in the closet and then he's waving Jongin down the hall.
"I hope you're good with kimchi jjigae," Chanyeol says. "I would've made something a little more, but this is what I was craving."
"That sounds great," Jongin says, his stomach already rumbling from the delicious smell that greets him in the small kitchen. There's a table off to the side, a stack of colored paper and cut outs set at an end. Jongin thinks he catches a childishly drawn stick-figure on the top one, but turns back to Chanyeol because he doesn't want to poke around rudely.
Chanyeol catches his gaze though, and he flashes Jongin a bright smile as he heads to the stove to check on the simmering pot. Jongin walks over to lean by the counter next to him as he says, "Those are some drawings from my kids."
Jongin blinks, mouth falling open a bit. Chanyeol laughs at him, nudges his side with an elbow. "Not my kids, exactly. But, that's what I call them. I'm a kindergarten teacher."
"How did I not know that about you?" Jongin exclaims, more surprised than he probably should be. He's wondered, of course, what Chanyeol does, but he never expected this. As he thinks about it, though, Chanyeol's kind smiles and easy confidence, it's fitting. He can almost see it, Chanyeol's excitable laughter as he runs around after some kids and helps them fingerpaint. The thought makes a slow burn settle in the pit of his stomach.
"You never asked," Chanyeol answers with a small laugh. "And besides, you won't tell me about your manhwa, so I had to keep something about myself a secret, too, right? Only fair."
"I don’t think it works like that," Jongin laughs. "And, you’re having fun trying to guess, so it’s not like it’s a big inconvenience to you."
“Good point,” Chanyeol says. “It really wasn’t Girls of the Wild? I thought that was a good guess.” He sighs exaggeratedly, and his lower lip juts out slightly as he stares down at the pot, gently stirring with a wooden spoon.
“It was,” Jongin agrees. “But no, that’s not it.”
"Just wait," Chanyeol says, pointing at Jongin with his spoon. "I'll figure it out."
Jongin laughs, backing away from Chanyeol so as to not end up with a messy shirt, and Chanyeol grins at him before turning back. The itch is there again, to draw him, to get the curve of his eyes right or the way he can really see his hair without a hat being in the way. He looks really nice, in black skinny jeans that only emphasis the length of his legs, and a cozy-looking black sweater. Jongin feels a little awkward in his pair of jeans and, oh god, a Pikachu t-shirt, but Chanyeol doesn't seem like he cares, so Jongin tries not to either.
He helps Chanyeol get out bowls and utensils, setting them up on the table before retrieving some mugs from the cupboard Chanyeol points to above the sink. Chanyeol hands him the kettle and tells him where the tea bags are, and Jongin is glad for something to do to distract him from the nervousness that just won't leave his body.
He fills their cups and sets the kettle back on the stove, adds in the tea bags and settles down in a chair at the table. The stack of papers from earlier catches his eye again, and he figures it's okay to look now, so he sifts through them slowly, a grin slowly tugging at his lips. There are many crudely drawn pictures of what seem to be families and houses, and a few of them even include a tall looking figure with the word "teacher" scribbled (mostly incorrectly) above it.
"These are adorable," Jongin says, and Chanyeol chuckles.
"True artistic talents in the making, right there," he says. "There's a few of them who want to do what you do."
"Well, it is a great job," Jongin says, grinning at Chanyeol over his shoulder before turning back. "I used to draw on everything when I was little. It'd drive my parents crazy." He puffs out a laugh at himself and shakes his head. "I still do that, though. Drawing on napkins and newspaper margins all the time."
"Drawing strangers you see at coffee shops?" Chanyeol asks, a slight smirk to his lips as he appears with the pot of jjigae, setting it atop a placeholder in the center of the table. He tells Jongin to help himself, and then heads back into the kitchen for something else. Jongin reaches for Chanyeol's bowl first and serves him, then himself, and Chanyeol returns with some sugar and milk for their tea.
Even though Jongin is still incredibly nervous, their dinner is not awkward or unpleasant. Chanyeol really has a way about him that makes Jongin feel comfortable, like they've known each other for years instead of a few short weeks. They talk easily about Chanyeol's work, how he came home the other day with glue in his hair and paint on his clothes, about Jongin's tendency to fall asleep in the middle of drawing and how he gets scolded by Kyungsoo on a daily basis. Chanyeol fires out questions about his manhwa randomly, like maybe Jongin will blurt out the name on his own. But Jongin is careful because he likes the way Chanyeol's brows furrow in concentration, the way his tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth.
Actually, no, he doesn't like that last bit at all. Not. At. All.
But he might like the way Chanyeol flushes half-embarrassed, half-pleased when Jongin compliments his dinner, eagerly spooning up mouthfuls and sighing in bliss. He catches Chanyeol staring at him across the table at one such moment, looking a little dazed, but he snaps out of it when Jongin waves a hand in front of his face. The slight pink in his cheeks only deepens then and he looks down quickly at his food and Jongin's not sure what sort of reaction that is, but he's glad he's not the only one who gets flustered.
They end up in the living room later, Jongin graciously accepting a beer that Chanyeol hands him. Chanyeol sits almost too close on the couch, his knee bumping against Jongin's, and Chanyeol channel surfs aimlessly as they talk.
Jongin listens as he surveys the room, learning little things about Chanyeol from the guitar resting beside the bookshelf, what looks like the entire Beenzino discography, and the picture of him and a familiar puppy framed on the television stand.
"Is that your puppy?" he asks, pointing at the picture and realizing he hasn't actually seen anything in the apartment that suggests Chanyeol has a pet.
"Nah," he says, shaking his head. "It's my older sister's. I look after him sometimes."
"He's cute," Jongin says, smiling at the picture.
"Not me?" Chanyeol asks with a pout and he nudges Jongin's knee slightly.
Jongin squints at him, assessing, and tilts his head. Chanyeol slowly glowers, and reaches out to swat at Jongin's shoulder. It surprises a laugh out of him, that stupid high-pitched one of his that he can never help, and Chanyeol's expression fades back into a similar look like the one he'd given Jongin over dinner.
Then he laughs, too, swatting at Jongin's knee this time. "And I say you're cute all the time," he whines, like Jongin makes him say it or something. He glances askance at him, and adds, "But then, you really are."
Jongin groans, heat climbing up the back of his neck. "Is that how you get all your dates?" he asks, surprised a bit at himself at the question, but he blames it on his second beer.
"Maybe," Chanyeol says. "It's worked with you."
"Who says it was your flattery?" Jongin returns.
"Then it must be my handsome face, right?" Chanyeol says with a laugh. "Do you have more drawings of me?"
Jongin shifts slightly, and doesn't quite meet his eyes. His reaction has Chanyeol smirking slowly, and leaning in toward him as he throws an arm around Jongin's shoulders. Jongin swallows thickly, licking his lips and he doesn't miss the way Chanyeol's eyes dart down to his mouth before flicking back up. His arm feels warm against Jongin's shoulders and his heart rate quickens in his chest. He takes another sip of his drink and tries not to be too obvious as he moves away a bit.
Chanyeol doesn't seem like he minds, leaning back against the couch and stretching his long legs out under the coffee table. "So you do," he says. "Can I see?"
"No," Jongin blurts out quickly. He reaches out to set his bottle on the coffee table and stands. "Maybe another time?"
"You're heading home already?" Chanyeol asks, getting to his feet as well. He looks a little put out. "Are you gonna be okay?"
Jongin waves a hand at him. "Yeah, of course, I'm not drunk or anything," he says. He picks up his bag from the end of the couch and heads for the door. Chanyeol heads around him to pull his coat from the closet and Jongin shrugs it on, along with his shoes.
"I'm really glad you came," Chanyeol says after Jongin's stepped into the hall. He leans against his door, looking long and lean and annoyingly handsome. "I had a good time."
"Me, too," Jongin says, shifting his backpack more comfortably onto his shoulders. He chews the inside of his cheek as he considers, then adds, "Maybe next time--"
"You can make us dinner?" Chanyeol says, and he looks terribly hopeful.
"I was gonna say I'll treat you," Jongin says, fiddling with the hem of his coat. "I'm not exactly the best cook and--"
"Jongin," Chanyeol cuts in suddenly, and Jongin stumbles slightly as Chanyeol tugs him close by his jacket sleeve. Jongin's eyes widen as he stares up at Chanyeol's face, close, almost too close, and this is like something straight out of a manhwa, the way Chanyeol smiles at him warmly before he closes the distance between them. His lips are soft and smooth against his own and it only lasts a few seconds, but Jongin's heart is threatening to burst out of his chest, and he can practically see the SFX flashing in his head.
Jongin hates how dazed he feels when Chanyeol pulls away, a wide grin on his face as he slips the hand from Jongin's sleeve down to gently squeeze his wrist. "Um," Jongin says, licking his lips.
“Don’t do that,” Chanyeol whines, “or I’ll want to kiss you again.”
Jesus. When did Jongin’s life start to mimic his work? He’s pretty sure that’s a line from his own manhwa. He laughs, incredulous, and presses his hands to his cheeks. “I-I’m gonna...go,” he says, “yeah.”
Chanyeol reaches out to zip up Jongin’s coat all the way to his chin and grins at Jongin’s futile protests. “Cute,” he says, and ruffles Jongin’s hair lightly. “Goodnight, Jongin.”
“I-I’ll call you,” Jongin says, and before he can talk himself out of it, he leans up and kisses Chanyeol again once. He flushes deeply at the surprise in Chanyeol’s eyes, and he waves quickly before heading down the hall.
part 2