Title: Thirteenth Step
Fandom: Children of Empire (ZE:A)
Genre: General
Pairings: Minwoo/Junyoung
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Minwoo, Junyoung, and a rocket launch on TV.
Wordcount: 1020.
Disclaimer: Originally written for
theirblinggirl in the
kpopvalentines 2012 run.
Inbox 45, prompt 2: Thirteenth Step
Junyoung woke up to the smell of kimchi and eggs. He turned over, letting the sheets wrap around him. He reached out but the mattress was cold. He groaned, fumbled on the nightstand, and he came up empty. He sat up, squinting at the pile of clothes on the floor. Minwoo might not be such a slob compared to some of his past boyfriends, but some things were still a work in progress. He himself wasn’t the same, either.
He breathed in deeply. His lungs whistled and he smelled the eggs again. He stood up and grabbed the clothes, tossing them into the hamper as he walked down the hall. He walked into a a cloud of dust motes, and sneezed. He had to backtrack to the bathroom to hock and spit.
Shaking his head, he walked down the hall again, avoiding the book this time. He came out in to the living room. The aroma was stronger here and he turned on the TV, flipping through the channels. Minwoo came out from the kitchen, a napkin tucked into his pants.
“Good morning,” Junyoung said, and reached over to smooth down a lock of stray hair. Minwoo leaned into him and sighed. Junyoung pulled him in closer, wrapping his arm around Minwoo’s waist. His fingers brushed over the outline of something hard in Minwoo’s pocket. He froze. Minwoo batted him away.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” He asked. Junyoung went for the towel this time, yanking it from his pants.
“Nothing,” he said in a light tone. He wrung the cloth in his hands. Minwoo shook his head and went off into the kitchen again. Junyoung worked the cloth, twisting and wadding it up in his hands.
They were showing a rocket launch on TV. It was set to go off in 20 minutes. There was a countdown at the edge of the screen. Junyoung found it made him antsy, and he had to get up and walk around as the reporter talked to an engineer about the purpose of the trip. The engineer was very good at explaining things. He looked into the screen, directly into the camera.
“Although space may be a cold and inhospitable place,” he said,“there is no greater journey than to reach into the unknown. Here we are conquering not only outer space, but ourselves. We are investigating our own capabilities and exploring our own limits. Please keep that in mind as we cheer for the launch of the rocket.”
“Well said,” Junyoung thought, but his mouth was dry and sweat was beginning to trickle down his back. He walked into the kitchen.
“You done?” He asked.
"Almost," Minwoo said. “Where’s my towel?”
“Left it in the kitchen,” he said, leaning against the entryway. Minwoo shook his head and went into the kitchen. Junyoung sighed and grabbed the chopsticks, prodding one of the fried eggs. The yolk burst and spilled out like lava. The heat was too much, prickling his skin.
Junyoung followed him back into the living room, where Minwoo was watching the TV. He could get sidetracked so easily. They bumped hips and breathed in.
“You smell good today,” Minwoo said firmly, and wrapped his arms around Junyoung’s neck, pulled him into a hug. Junyoung grunted. Not like smoke, he meant.
“Let’s just eat,” he said, muffled into his hair.
“No,” Minwoo said. “Not yet.” His grip tightened.
“Relax,” Minwoo said. He could feel Junyoung fiddling with the hem of his shirt.
“I’m trying,” Junyoung replied in the same wheedling tone. Minwoo counted to ten and let go.
“Fine,” he said, face blank. “Time to eat.” Junyoung turned around but Minwoo was already setting the table. People on TV were cheering. Junyoung walked to the table and lingered at the threshold.
“What?” Minwoo asked. He was smiling now, though.
“Come here,” Junyoung said, on impulse. Minwoo followed obediently. They kissed for a while, their mouths lingering in the silence. They waltzed clumsily to the couch.
Minwoo pushed him down onto the cushions with both of his hands. Junyoung leaned back into the couch. First piece of furniture they bought, and it was still pulling its weight. And it smelled like leather. Not cigarettes. He appreciated consistency in a product. Minwoo climbed onto him, a little clumsy in his eagerness. He pressed down a little too hard with a bony part of his arm, and Junyoung grunted. He pulled Minwoo down onto him. One arm snaked down the dip of his back, and slipped into Minwoo’s jeans.
Minwoo ground his hips down, yelping as Junyoung playfully snapped the band of his boxers.
“Oww!”
But he sounded pleased. Junyoung’s hand wandered into his pocket again, and Minwoo didn’t resist.
Junyoung nudged Minwoo off him and reached over the side of the couch. He grabbed Minwoo’s pants from off the floor. The front pockets were empty, but his back pocket had what he was looking for.
Finally. He tossed the pack of cigarettes into the air, and let them fall. Minwoo sighed, and Junyoung felt his breath tickle his chest. He had to look out the window then. The trails of the rocket launch were still in the sky, light and already fading. Minwoo rolled off his chest. The box was still unopened. He could stand near the window, just smoke one. Minwoo would never know. He could get a match from the kitchen.
“And there you can see the rocket lifting off from the launchpad,” the TV reporter announced. “Ten minutes ago, The shuttle Arirang took off on its journey into space.” The scene cut to the engineer again, repeating his speech.
“…there is no greater journey than to reach into the unknown. Here we are conquering not only outer space, but ourselves. We are investigating our own capabilities and exploring our own limits. Please keep that in mind as we cheer for the launch of the rocket.”
Junyoung sighed. He was getting way too old for this tug of war. He tossed the carton into the air again. And the last time it came down, he let it fall onto the floor.