misery loves company
misery loves company
gtop
PG
a jail ficlet. jiyong gets a new cellmate.
“Thanks.”
Jiyong makes an aborted grab for his lunch. He’s used to the ins and outs of jail by now, but he can’t stop most of the older, bigger inmates from taking his food: he’s just a little too scrawny, a little too pretty in the face. “You’re welcome,” he mumbles.
“Hey.” A kick to the leg and Jiyong stands, ready to at least try and defend himself.
He gapes.
Seunghyun grins at him from his seat, the bright orange jumpsuit clashing with the white chopsticks he has halfway to his mouth.
“What the fuck are you doing here,” he hisses, reaching over to grab the bowl back.
“What does it look like?” Seunghyun replies. He surveys the meager contents of Jiyong’s lunch with a furrowed brow. “Sitting in jail.”
Jiyong sits down, speechless. He watches Seunghyun plow through his rice and kimchi and shakes his head when he offers some of his own food. It’s only after he stacks the plates on top of each other and takes his first gulp of water that Jiyong slams a hand onto the plastic table. The chopsticks clatter and the group at the closest table glances over.
“I’m supposed to be serving my time in here--”
“Yeah, yeah, art and all that shit. You can still be a martyr, I’m not stopping you.”
“So why are you here?”
Seunghyun props his shoe against the table and begins rolling up one of his pant legs. “I hijacked an ice cream truck.”
Jiyong blinks. “But why?”
He shrugs. “It had butter pecan.”
---
“You look ridiculous.”
Seunghyun practices a scowl.
“Like, really ridiculous.”
“Oh yeah?” he adjusts the band-aid on his face and turns his head, examining his reflection in the cracked mirror of the cell. “I was going for ‘badass,’ but I think ‘crazy’ might work too.”
“What are you even trying to do?” Jiyong scratches at his unevenly-cropped hair.
Seunghyun blows into his hands and rubs them together. The room is freezing. “Protect your ass.” He blinks and then begins to snicker to himself. “Uh, not literally. Well... literally too, I guess.”
Jiyong ignores the jibe and the unexpected jolt of warmth the words stir in his chest. “What does you looking like a Korean Nelly have to do with protecting me?”
“No one’s going to want to mess with the crazy guy.” He straightens up, head almost brushing the peeling paint of the ceiling. “So no one’ll mess with the crazy guy’s bitch.”
Jiyong can’t help but laugh, then, his snorts echoing off the dingy concrete walls. He laughs until Seunghyun peels the band-aid from his cheek and sticks it into his hair, sitting down beside him on the lumpy cot. Untangling the bandage from his bangs, Jiyong folds the sides in against the cotton middle, tucking it into Seunghyun’s pocket. “I kind of love you, you know.”
“I know,” he says, tapping fingers on Jiyong’s knee to the tune of ‘Country Grammar.’ “Misery loves company.”
A/N: just a crappy little thing written after i read through all the stuff about gd being investigated by the police. nothing serious!
gtop
PG
a jail ficlet. jiyong gets a new cellmate.
“Thanks.”
Jiyong makes an aborted grab for his lunch. He’s used to the ins and outs of jail by now, but he can’t stop most of the older, bigger inmates from taking his food: he’s just a little too scrawny, a little too pretty in the face. “You’re welcome,” he mumbles.
“Hey.” A kick to the leg and Jiyong stands, ready to at least try and defend himself.
He gapes.
Seunghyun grins at him from his seat, the bright orange jumpsuit clashing with the white chopsticks he has halfway to his mouth.
“What the fuck are you doing here,” he hisses, reaching over to grab the bowl back.
“What does it look like?” Seunghyun replies. He surveys the meager contents of Jiyong’s lunch with a furrowed brow. “Sitting in jail.”
Jiyong sits down, speechless. He watches Seunghyun plow through his rice and kimchi and shakes his head when he offers some of his own food. It’s only after he stacks the plates on top of each other and takes his first gulp of water that Jiyong slams a hand onto the plastic table. The chopsticks clatter and the group at the closest table glances over.
“I’m supposed to be serving my time in here--”
“Yeah, yeah, art and all that shit. You can still be a martyr, I’m not stopping you.”
“So why are you here?”
Seunghyun props his shoe against the table and begins rolling up one of his pant legs. “I hijacked an ice cream truck.”
Jiyong blinks. “But why?”
He shrugs. “It had butter pecan.”
---
“You look ridiculous.”
Seunghyun practices a scowl.
“Like, really ridiculous.”
“Oh yeah?” he adjusts the band-aid on his face and turns his head, examining his reflection in the cracked mirror of the cell. “I was going for ‘badass,’ but I think ‘crazy’ might work too.”
“What are you even trying to do?” Jiyong scratches at his unevenly-cropped hair.
Seunghyun blows into his hands and rubs them together. The room is freezing. “Protect your ass.” He blinks and then begins to snicker to himself. “Uh, not literally. Well... literally too, I guess.”
Jiyong ignores the jibe and the unexpected jolt of warmth the words stir in his chest. “What does you looking like a Korean Nelly have to do with protecting me?”
“No one’s going to want to mess with the crazy guy.” He straightens up, head almost brushing the peeling paint of the ceiling. “So no one’ll mess with the crazy guy’s bitch.”
Jiyong can’t help but laugh, then, his snorts echoing off the dingy concrete walls. He laughs until Seunghyun peels the band-aid from his cheek and sticks it into his hair, sitting down beside him on the lumpy cot. Untangling the bandage from his bangs, Jiyong folds the sides in against the cotton middle, tucking it into Seunghyun’s pocket. “I kind of love you, you know.”
“I know,” he says, tapping fingers on Jiyong’s knee to the tune of ‘Country Grammar.’ “Misery loves company.”
A/N: just a crappy little thing written after i read through all the stuff about gd being investigated by the police. nothing serious!