secret santa fic: oscitancy; [exo] kai/luhan
For chaltyr
Title Oscitancy
Pairing Kai/Lu Han
Rating/Genre pg-13/friendship
Word Count 5843
Summary Everyday, Jongin would wake up to two of the things he likes. But there hasn’t been any milk in the fridge lately, so he just wakes up to Lu Han most of the time.
When Taemin comes for a visit one afternoon, copper hair tied into a messy yet attractive ponytail, Lu Han completely mistakes him for a girl and shakes his hand, maybe a little too violently, saying, "I didn't know little Jongin had a girlfriend. Hi, I'm Lu Han!"
'Little' 20 year old Jongin frowns at him from the floor as he stretches, more at the way he called him 'little' than at the fact that he just assumed his best friend was his girlfriend. Lu Han's met Taemin more than once, and this really isn't the first he's mistaken him for a girl. A lot of guys mistake Taemin for a girl on a weekly basis, anyway.
"You weren't joking about the whole Lu Han problem thing, huh, little Jongin," Taemin snickers, the moment Lu Han has entered his room and is out of earshot. Jongin would have thrown him a dirty look if he weren't so busy trying to reach his toes; instead, he settles for a grunt.
"Who told you I was?" Jongin demands at the floor, reaching out blindly. His fingers come up short, only grazing his toenails, and when he stretches out more, the back of his knees burn. Taemin decides to help him by placing his foot on Jongin's spine, sole digging uncomfortably on Jongin's skin. Jongin winces from the pain.
"Taemin--" he rasps out with difficulty, but Taemin is unrelenting and cruel and pushes downwards until Jongin gets a hold of his toes.
"You should get a girlfriend, then," Taemin says, pressing harder. Jongin is left with the inability to reply as he tries to resist the unwanted weight. "since he seems so excited in meeting a non-existent one," and then Taemin gives a particularly hard push, and Jongin's forehead touches his knees.
"Ow," Jongin wheezes, teeth clenched, eyes squeezed shut, mind already gearing up to think of painful ways to hurt Taemin back, "ow ow ow ow ow,"
The weight disappears, followed by an awed exhale of, "God, you're flexible,"
*
Some days after, Jongin wakes up on the cold floor, shirtless, an hour after Lu Han's left for work. He pads sleepily to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with a lazy hand; there is no breakfast waiting for him and no milk in the fridge - all Jongin gets is coffee brewing on the countertop. The counter feels cool on his butt and bare feet when he sits on it, hugging his legs close to his body, trying to keep himself warm. Lu Han's never done that nor has ever known why Jongin does it in the first place; he's always been the type to sit at the dining table and eat his food slowly and carefully, the complete opposite of how he does everything else, while Jongin drinks his everyday milk across him, most of the time curled up on top of the counter like he is at the moment.
Jongin doesn't like coffee much, compared to Lu Han. And, through the hazy steam rising from the coffee he has reluctantly decided to drink as an alternative for milk, he can almost see Lu Han nursing himself a second up, later on maybe a third, a fourth, in just one morning.
Jongin doesn't need to specifically try and look for them - Luhan leaves them everywhere, carelessly unaware most of the time. Jongin, on the countertop, doesn't need to do much to locate his traces: there's a lone mug waiting for a wash in the sink, the sweet smell of fruit wafts its way from the open bathroom to mix with the coffee, and there’s a distant sound of an ignored Pokemon battle from a console in the living room.
Lu Han leaves pieces of himself everywhere which Jongin, out of pure habit, collects and tucks into memory.
He ends up drinking half of the coffee and then dumping the other half down the sink. His mug takes its place beside Lu Han's, Jongin leaving traces of his own.
This is how the morning goes.
*
Technically, this isn't a problem as it is not something Jongin bothers fixing, not something Lu Han bothers acknowledging.
It isn't a problem as it is a computation. All Jongin needs to do is sit somewhere and catalog everything into numbers, symbols, deciding where it even started, years ago when he thought it was a good idea to share a uni flat with Lu Han (turns out it is), and where it ends--where he wants it to end.
It isn't a problem, he insists. Fuck diagrams.
Jongin starts with almost three years ago, and how it took Lu Han at least six months to drop the nickname 'kkamjong' and to start to call Jongin by his real name. Two years ago when Lu Han had first mistook Taemin not only as a girl but also as Jongin's girlfriend (and almost two years after when he does it again). A year ago when Jongin realised that he may be quite in love with Lu Han, may have been for quite awhile now. A year ago when he abruptly confessed, telling him a fast, "hyung, I like you," with which Lu Han had mistook for "more milk?" and passed him the carton.
Three weeks ago and he was kissing Lu Han for the first time, tasting syrup and pancakes and horrible coffee on his lips - he tasted both bitter and sweet and definitely what Jongin had always thought Lu Han would taste like. He had only managed to place his hand on his cheek when Lu Han pulled away, stood up, and took a step back.
He looked alarmed, shaken, and he took another step back, and another, until his back collided with the wall. Something shifted in the air. When Jongin had reached out his hand, he could almost feel an invisible barrier, a thick glass of four years Lu Han had put up, and it’s as if it was stretching, trying to reach his toes, so close yet so far.
*
"I'm home!" Lu Han declares upon getting inside their flat. Jongin hears him mock-sob afterwards from the other room where he's sitting on the dining table, reviewing his notes.
"Don't worry," he calls out, skimming now as laziness takes over, "I saved it."
This is when Jongin hears the familiar opening tune of Pokemon SoulSilver and sees Lu Han sitting across him. "Wow, how did you know?" he's not really paying attention anymore as he asks it, eyes trained on his yellow DSi, so Jongin doesn't bother replying.
They end up eating dinner later than usual. Jongin manages to sleep over Lu Han's commentary of the game he's playing, half of his body sprawled at awkward angles on the dining table, and drooling. Jongin knows this because when he wakes up to the smell of food, Lu Han turns to him and says, wincing, "Ew, wash your face,"
And he does.
*
By the fourth time Jongin makes the mistake of going inside Lu Han's room only to realise they're not sharing anymore, Lu Han finds him sitting on his bed.
"Get off," Lu Han warns, squinting in the dark. "now."
"This is ridiculous, hyung,"
"Get off, Jongin,"
When Lu Han gets near enough to inflict damage with a towel, Jongin stands up, patting his pillow twice as he does so. Lu Han knuckles his head when he passes by.
"You are such a kid sometimes," he says, bending over his bed to fix what minimal damage Jongin has done as if he won't do more later when he goes to bed. Jongin knows Lu Han's just trying to keep his hands busy, with both of them in the same room and all.
"Is that why you won't even consider the idea?" Jongin bravely asks. By asking that question, Jongin risks everything they've managed to fix for the past weeks. It's hard trying to build a stable friendship again, ever since that afternoon. The question hangs heavily in the air; slowly, Lu Han straightens up and turns to look at Jongin.
"You didn't even say anything, hyung," Jongin continues, and he barely registers the hurt in his voice. He doesn't elaborate further because surely, Lu Han knows what he's talking about. Lu Han being silent about it for three weeks is one thing, him pretending to know nothing is another. Jongin didn't think it would take him this long to confront Lu Han, honestly, when he suggested that they get separate rooms.
"Four years ago," Lu Han starts, disrupting the flat’s silence with a voice that’s loud and clear. "I met this kid at a party. I thought he was cute and he seemed to like me a lot, so I thought we should get together. And we did,"
Lu Han rarely ever talks about himself. He hands out stories of himself in well measured quantities over time. Jongin can't help but feel like he doesn't know Lu Han well enough, after all these years.
"So we got together for weeks, months--I forgot. Until one day, Yixing pulled me harshly by the arm, and asked me what the hell I was doing with a 16-year old.”
Lu Han smiles wistfully and shrugs, "I honestly didn't know,"
"In a few weeks I'll turn 21," Jongin replies unhelpfully. Jongin wonders what would've happened if Lu Han hadn't met that kid, whoever he was. What would've happened if Jongin hadn't kissed him and instead told him what he actually felt from the start, asked him if he did, too. Then again, Jongin's never really been the type to choose words over actions.
"Yes," Lu Han nods, "and 3 months afterwards I turn 4 years older than you,"
"I'll wait," Jongin replies before he realises it's probably not a good idea to say that. The last time he said that, he told it to Lu Han in such a soft voice Lu Han probably didn't hear him. Now, he said it a little louder, a little more confidently, and now he's actually sure.
Lu Han's laugh is expected - default Lu Han defense mechanism. He walks closer and turns Jongin around by the shoulders, steering him as they walk to the door. "Why do I always attract the younger ones?" he asks with a quiet laugh. Though, underneath it all, Jongin can hear the uncertainty and hesitation.
He disregards the witty remark he had in mind and bids him goodnight. The warmth of Lu Han's hands on his shoulders stay there even after Lu Han's closed the door.
*
Jongin wakes up one afternoon on the sofa at hearing the front door squeak open. Lu Han's brought them dinner. From Minseok he informs him happily, cheeks red from the cold, He even gave me the recipe!
When they eat, Jongin raises one long leg and folds it near himself, wrapping his arm around it as he picks out the meat to eat. He leaves the vegetables for Lu Han, partly because he hates vegetables, partly because Lu Han needs them more. Lu Han doesn't notice how the amount of greens on his plate increases every time he looks away. That is, until at one point he catches Jongin in the act and he hits him with the butt of his chopsticks, saying, "Yah, what do you think you're doing?"
Jongin shrugs, and he gets half of Lu Han's meat in return.
Jongin washes the dishes after they're done eating. Although eventually, when Lu Han starts to notice his lack of enthusiasm, he takes over the task and demands that Jongin dry them instead.
Lu Han hums as he washes the dishes. Sadly, Jongin can't hear well over the sound of the rushing water. It drowns out everything else and blocks out Lu Han's voice. Much like the way Lu Han is, loud and talkative, drowns out everything that Jongin does, completely ignoring what Jongin feels. But, when he goes to bed at night, exhausted from the school work he's done for the day, he falls asleep to the memory of Lu Han's voice, distinct and clear and real as if he were singing in the same room.
*
Jongin wakes up with a jolt when warm hands touch his forearm. He blinks rapidly at the sudden light until all the blurs turn sharper, until all his eyes clear and all he can see is Lu Han sitting across him, examining the bowl of ramyun he's made.
"Wow, Jongin, what's the occasion?" he asks, amused.
Jongin opens his mouth to reply when a sound of crinkling paper interrupts him. He shifts his foot, and the sound comes back. Lu Han isn't paying attention, already scooping some for himself, when Jongin reaches down to get it. His hand brushes Lu Han's feet as he does so, earning himself a half-shriek. A smile plays on his lips and he does it again on purpose.
Lu Han kicks him under the table which he catches in time. "While you're at it, why don't you massage it, then," he teases, and he's hesitating, Jongin can tell, as if he knew Jongin would but still wanted to be sure.
Jongin complies, grinning, hand on his calf. Lu Han kicks him again, this time hitting him square in the abdomen. "Ow,"
"Your ramyun's bland, by the way," Lu Han says over a mouthful. Jongin watches as he swallows it anyway. Something flutters inside his body, a kickstart of emotions and suddenly he feels endearment and relief; Lu Han cooks most of the time, but whenever Jongin does, regardless if it's burnt or bland or undercooked, Lu Han still eats them.
Jongin doesn't eat that morning because he isn't hungry. He drinks coffee because there still isn't milk, occasionally grimacing because he really hates the way it tastes, alternating between watching Lu Han finish the bland ramyun's he's made, and discreetly proffering his mug towards him, half-expecting Lu Han to accept it. Lu Han doesn't. Jongin ends up drinking it all in the end, the coffee turning much bitter than what he'd initially tasted, for some reason.
The paper underneath his foot's forgotten.
(He finds the paper again one morning, 2 days after, under Lu Han's DSi. It's Minseok's recipe. Underneath is a note:
oh so this is where it went
And then in a very intricate handwriting with flowers and sparkly shapes, it says:
jongin and his midnight food adventures jjang!)
*
Watching late night comedy shows is a routine in the flat. Jongin initially took over the whole couch with his feet on Lu Han's lap but after awhile, he decides to sit upright and just lean all of his body weight against Lu Han's side, his chin on his shoulder. Lu Han doesn't mind, or probably doesn't show that he does; there's no tension in his shoulders and no stilt in his actions. Jongin's relieved for the most part because it meant that at least this amount of skinship can push through.
The show is pathetic and totally unfunny and before long, Jongin feels his eyes getting heavier by the second. Blinking multiple times is futile and, even with Lu Han's loud laughter and shaking stature, he falls asleep with his head on his knees, one hand loosely wrapped around a thin wrist.
He rouses to a shift in position. He doesn't know how long he's been asleep, just that when he opens his eyes, Lu Han looks apologetic as he removes Jongin's head from where it's leaning on his shoulder to help him lie down on his back.
"Sorry," he says softly. Jongin blinks a few more times to get a clearer view. Lu Han isn't meeting his eyes. "will you be sleeping here tonight?" And then he adds, laughing quietly, "Again?"
Jongin is still tired and still sleepy and wants to pull Lu Han down to kiss him again. It's a decision made drunk on exhaustion and his vision's still blurry that he's not sure if the desire is unconscious or not. He thinks he's still dreaming when he reaches out and his hand catches air instead of skin; Lu Han's stood up.
Jongin leans forward and catches his wrist. "Don't," Lu Han gazes down at him curiously, don't, what?
"Don't," When Jongin tries sitting up, his head pounds and black spots cover his eyesight before it clears up. As soon as it does, he sees Lu Han sitting down beside him again, waiting. Ironic now, since Jongin's the one who's been waiting. Lu Han flits through his fingertips every time he tries reaching out. "Don't go away," he finishes, hand on his wrist tightening, "stop running away, hyung,"
The look on Lu Han's face is unreadable. Jongin isn't sure if he's hesitating or embarrassed or indignant. There's no ripple of emotion on his face, nor is there in his voice as he replies, softly, "I'm not, Jongin,"
There it is again - the sudden urge to kiss Lu Han. The desire is overwhelming: it starts from the curling of his toes to the heating up of his stomach to the quickening of his heart to the automatic parting of his lips. Lu Han's uttered it like an invitation, a dare. Jongin is quick to oblige.
And so he leans closer slowly, tentatively, waiting for Lu Han to move away. He doesn't. Even when Jongin's placed his other hand on his jaw and pulled his face in, he makes no movement. Lu Han's pulse quickens almost unnoticeably under his hold. The couch dips under his weight a little, the silence of the whole flat heavy on his shoulder as he leans in towards Lu Han, and it pushes him forward, urging him on.
Lu Han's eyes flutter close when Jongin eventually gets near enough to see how long his eyelashes are really are. So very close - like stretching, just another push to his spine, and he's almost reached his lips, almost-
Jongin's phone rings somewhere between them. Something breaks inside Jongin when Lu Han pulls his hand from Jongin's grasp and stands up to leave him there without another word.
The phone stops ringing only to ring once more. On the third ring, Jongin answers it.
"Take your dogs back," Taemins says, voice static and distant, and too lively for someone awake at almost 12 in the evening, "They pee everywhere and they--"
"Fuck you," and Jongin feels a lot like sobbing, hands shaking and heart racing, "Fuck you, fuck you, I hate you--" His heart feels too big to fit inside his ribs. Rejection seeps into his veins and immobilizes and numbs his entire being. The couch feels a lot emptier and colder than Jongin remembers it to be. There is still silence in the whole flat, and it makes Jongin hear his heartbeat in his ears - clearer, erratic, and painful. He hangs up even before Taemin reprimands him.
Back to square one.
*
The next day Jongin spends too many hours playing video games with Taemin, who keeps laughing at Jongin's blatant pathetic playing.
"Years of practice, kkamjong," Taemin says, eyes glued to the screen. His fingers dance on the controller, and in the game, Itachi goes for another Ultimate Jutsu. Jongin yells out in frustration when his Sasuke loses for the hundredth time.
It's only after he beats Taemin for the first time the whole day, his Kiba doing a combo in the air, brutally attacking Taemin's Kabuto, that he spares his watch a glance. It's almost 11:30 in the evening; he's been here since 2 in the afternoon.
And so he brings Jjanggu home with him and leaves Monggu with Taemin. "I'll come back for it tomorrow," he calls out from the asphalt outside, "I can't carry two dogs in this cold." Taemin gives a small wave of goodbye before disappearing behind the door.
Jongin walks to his apartment shivering. Jjangu is sleeping against his chest inside his thick coat and his fur tickles Jongin's neck, a little. There was once a time when Jongin entertained the idea of walking around the flat in just his boxers in the heat. That idea seems so distant, now, as he shivers his way to his apartment.
He arrives to see Lu Han in the middle of the living room, face undistinguishable in the light spilling from his room from the end of the hallway. Jjangu goes immediately under the couch once he's free from Jongin's grasp.
"What are you doing awake at this hour, hyung?" Jongin asks as he switches on the light. The sudden light blinds him a little and he squints, seeing Lu Han's tight smile.
"I was doing some work," comes the easy reply. There are no papers on the coffee table. Jongin spares a glance at the dining table: no papers, still. The DS is nowhere to be seen, so is Lu Han's rubik's cube. The remote's placed over the television set, out of Lu Han's reach. What work?
Jongin shimmies out of his coat. He slouches a little at the warmth that envelops him immediately afterwards. "Were you waiting for me?"
Lu Han's reply, this time, does not come as easily as the first one. Jongin waits as Lu Han bites his lips, deliberating. His phone is in his hand. Slowly, he nods. Hesitates, then cracks a small smile.
"Didn't know where you were," Lu Han says. Both Jongin and he walk to the kitchen where he offers Jongin a glass of water. "You weren't answering my calls."
"It's dead, under my pillow. I think," Jongin gulps down the whole glass and places it next to Lu Han's mug in the sink. Purely accidental, Jongin catches a glimpse of the coffee maker, empty. Hours ago it was filled to the brim.
"Well, goodnight, Jongin," Lu Han pats Jongin's back twice as he passes him. Lu Han's shoulders loosen more and more as he approaches his room, as he drags his feet, slippers producing noise against the floor.
Later that night Jongin lies in bed and checks his phone. It's not dead, but there’s only 12% of its battery remaining and there are 4 missed calls - all from Lu Han. He closes his eyes and imagines hours ago, when he left and didn't tell Lu Han where he was going because he thought he didn't need to. When he ate dinner with Kibum and Taemin, and out of habit, began picking out the greens to give Taemin which Kibum found unnecessary and ridiculous. When Taemin's Itachi beat Sasuke for the hundreth time, the same way he beats Lu Han in Dance Central. Defeat makes Jongin's blood boil in competitiveness, Lu Han's in humor and glee.
He imagines Lu Han hours ago, realizing Jongin wasn't coming home anytime soon all of a sudden. He has probably called once out of curiosity, then called again out of confusion. Again, and he's probably starting to panic now, and maybe at the fourth call, at receiving no reply, he makes his way to the living room, ready to go out. And maybe he'd stayed there, waited, not entirely sure if Jongin would even come home-if Jongin could still face him after what had happened, the subtle rejection he did that had might as well been a straight forward “No.”
*
The next morning he finds Lu Han cooking breakfast. Sunday, no work, no school; there's another dog to be picked up. Lu Han hears him even before he sees him. He tilts his head, his body turning slightly, to say, "Good morning,"
Jongin makes a noise at the back of his throat, voice scratchy. Lu Han doesn't mind, already turning back to his task.
When Jongin's finished washing up, almost falling asleep on the toilet seat in the bathroom, he opens the fridge to find that there still isn't milk. There hasn't been any milk for over a week now. "Milk," he mutters under his breath, and then continues like a mantra, "milk milk milk milk," Maybe he'll pick one up when he goes home from Taemin's place later.
Lu Han's still cooking, so he sits at the table and rests his cheek on the cold woodwork. Jjangu is nipping at his toes, and Jongin plays with it, flexes and stretches his toes half heartedly. He catches sight of a mug - and then a phone.
"Sorry," he mumbles, cheek still against the surface of the table so it comes out almost incoherent, more like 'rowry,'
Lu Han understands anyway. "For what?"
"Last night. Didn't think I'd take long, really," he explains. He stares at Lu Han's back, unconsciously taking into account how pointy his bones are, how fragile he seems, under the harsh light. But then he catches sight of his stable hands, flipping something on the pan, and Jongin reconsiders describing Lu Han as dainty and small. "Didn't think you'd wait," he adds after some thought, although it's a little softer.
Lu Han doesn't reply - Jongin didn’t expect him to, in the first place - only bends down to turn the gas range off. Jongin doesn't sit upright until Lu Han's placed a plate of omelette in front of his face, blocking his view.
"Eat up, Jongin,"
Lu Han sits across him, cradling a mug of warm coffee in his hands. "So, Monggu?"
"I'll pick him up later," Jjanggu's still nipping playfully at his toes, tongue wet and warm and kind of gross. He looks up from his food to look at Lu Han. "Do you want to come?"
"No, thank you," and it's a fast reply, slipping out of Lu Han's mouth without hesitation, as if Lu Han knew Jongin would ask that question. "Got stuff to do,"
Jongin deliberates pressing for a decent excuse, because 'got stuff to do' doesn't really account for anything, but later on drops the idea and shrugs. And maybe he's a little bitter, a little hurt, when he says, "Suit yourself, hyung,"
*
The moment Jongin arrives and places Monggu on the floor, it goes over to where Jjanggu is sleeping under the coffee table, biting its ear to wake the other up. Jongin looks at them fondly, because he's missed them; they were with Taemin for almost 3 months, who wouldn't?
"You missed them, didn't you?" Lu Han's voice says from behind him. He jumps at the sound, heart racing immediately, and is about to reprimand Lu Han for surprising him when he turns around and instead of seeing Lu Han, he sees a tree. A Christmas tree.
"What--"
Lu Han's face appears behind the tree, smiling. "Come and help me, will you?" he asks playfully, before disappearing behind it again. Hands appear the next, placing little balls on the tree's pines. "No sense in going 'Surprise Jongin merry christmas' now, though, because you arrived earlier than I expected,"
Jongin shrugs off his jacket and inspects the tree, and he can't help but feel suspicious; he knows Lu Han doesn't celebrate Christmas, and where the hell did he even get that Christmas tree. Also, he realises a little belatedly, that it's 3 days before the 25th - surely, Lu Han has to have a very good reason to set up a Christmas tree now, because Jongin's never heard of people setting up Christmas decorations a few days before Christmas. That would be ridiculous. In fact, this is ridiculous.
He didn't mean to say that out loud.
Lu Han reappears again, going around the tree to walk over to Jongin and pull him nearer. "Why don't you just help me, Jongin," Lu Han gets a nearby angel ornament and places it on Jongin's hand, closing his fingers around it. "You told me about your family going away for Christmas," he whispers. His eyes are earnest and serious when he says it, looking straight into Jongin's, that Jongin can't help but keep the eye contact. The serious atmosphere gets ruined, however, when Lu Han uses a finger to poke Jongin's chest, grinning as he says, "I'm such a good hyung, you know? So thoughtful. You should thank me,"
It was meant to be a joke, Jongin knows, because as soon as he's said it, Lu Han retracts his hand and blushes, probably already regretting trying to sound cocky. Jongin waits until he's able to look at Jongin again to say, sincerely, "Thank you,"
The raw sincerity in Jongin's voice makes Lu Han huff before he shrugs and goes back to his task.
So they hang up the ornaments one by one. There isn't much, only those little balls and a few angels and stars. It's not even covered in Christmas lights yet. It's just a simple tree, placed on a table so it towers over them both. Their hands occasionally graze, and although Jongin doesn't pay much mind to it, doesn't pay much mind to the warmth it brings inside him that spreads to his toes, clearly Lu Han does. The moment their fingers brush, Lu Han stills, waiting for something. Jongin considers touching his hand, holding it - that would be romantic. But he doesn't, and instead, he makes sure to move out of his way.
When Jongin reaches up to place the star on the tip, standing on his tiptoes, something warm touches his spine: a hand. He freezes immediately on instinct - the painful memory of Taemin's relentless foot digging into his back is enough for him to jerk away. The warm hand stays, though, and the memory of Taemin gets replaced by Lu Han waking him up in the middle of the night whenever he sleeps on the couch, urging him to stand up and not be so lazy, hand on his back guiding him to his room as they stumble awkwardly in the hallway because Lu Han can't carry all of sleep-dazed Jongin's weight.
So Jongin pushes back into it, a little, and places the star on its place on the top of tree. Lu Han's hand is still on his back when he leans back on his heels. And Jongin's scared, a little, trying to figure what it all meant. Probably nothing, everything means nothing, he knows: the tree, the touching, all of it. It's Lu Han's way of showing he cares, he acknowledges Jongin's feelings, although not really planning on doing anything about it.
The star is a little crooked. Jongin notices this and he tries reaching up again, standing on his tiptoes, when a pull on his shirt grounds him down, in place. He turns back to see Lu Han leaning up, face dangerously close, and Jongin does the first thing he thinks of doing: flinches.
They lapse into an uncomfortable silence. The star is still crooked, Monggu looks like he's trying to kill Jjangu, it's cold, and Jongin's hungry. There are so many things to say to ease the silence settling, but this time Jongin doesn't say anything, welcoming the uneasiness like an old friend. It's always been there anyway, with Lu Han, so might as well embrace it.
Lu Han speaks up first, "I was waiting," His hand is still on Jongin's hem, pulling and squeezing the fabric, trying to keep his hands busy. "You didn't answer me before. Why, Jongin?"
He's been asked this before, Jongin remembers. Also winter, cold, and it was the first time he'd told Lu Han he thought he liked him. Lu Han had asked him why he did he think he did, later on asking a direct why and Jongin didn't know, really, just that he did, and that was that. So he didn't say anything. Now, he doesn't say anything either.
"I--" don't know.
"I was waiting for it to go away," Lu Han continues slowly, frowning at where his hand held Jongin's shirt, "waiting for you to realise that maybe you were wrong. Maybe you didn't mean to say that and you were confused,"
This time he looks up. This time he lets go of Jongin's shirt and instead inserts his hands into his pockets, fingers curling against the denim.
"But you weren't, were you?"
Jongin nods. Because he really wasn't, because there was no reason to be wrong, when from the start, there wasn't anything to not like about Lu Han, anyway.
He nods again, and when he reaches out to remove Lu Han's hands out of his pockets, it doesn't feel like reaching for his toes at all, doesn't feel like he's trying to accomplish something and getting hurt in the process.
When they hold hands, Lu Han gives out an exhale of relief, and doesn't retract his fingers. Doesn't pull away.
*
Jongin wakes up on the cold floor, shirtless. He's fallen out of his bed again. There is no breakfast waiting for him when he pads sleepily to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with a lazy hand. There's coffee brewing on the countertop and he remembers he hasn't bought milk for almost 2 weeks now, so he doesn't bother opening the fridge. There are papers scattered on the dining table. Jongin leans back on the counter and tries not to fall asleep standing up.
Later a sound of a knob reaches his ear and he collects the papers in his hand slowly, actions sluggish and heavy with sleep.
"I forgot--" comes the flustered voice, at the same time Jongin thrusts the papers out to Lu Han. His cheeks are pink from the cold, and he brightens immediately at the papers, breathing out a relieved, "Thanks!"
Jongin watches him walk briskly to the door. "There's breakfast in the fridge," he says, trying to put on his shoes and at the same time he's trying not to lose his balance. Jongin watches, amused, leaning against a wall. "Also, please wash the dishes after you're done eating,"
"You'll be late if you keep talking,"
Once Lu Han's managed to wear his shoes, he gives a wave, "Bye!" and turns the knob. And, as if realising something, he turns around, and walks towards Jongin in haste. In a blink, his lips press against the corners of Jongin's, and when he pulls back he looks sheepish.
"Bye,"
Jongin leans forward on instinct. Lu Han pushes him back with a smirk and turns to walk to the door. It's only when he's gone outside that Jongin regains his senses and he remembers, a little too late, that there still isn't milk.
He comes out of the flat wearing a shirt and a jacket he'd picked up on the way from the kitchen to the front door. Lu Han jumps a good foot in the air when Jongin finally catches up with him, hooking their arms together.
"No milk." Jongin simply offers as an explanation at Lu Han's stricken expression. He tugs him to the side when a biker passes by, and they both stumble on the sideway for awhile before they manage to regain their balance.
"Okay," is the only thing Lu Han says and then he's removing his arm from Jongin's, sliding his hand down until he finds fingers and a warm palm, and holds that instead. "Okay."
Title Oscitancy
Pairing Kai/Lu Han
Rating/Genre pg-13/friendship
Word Count 5843
Summary Everyday, Jongin would wake up to two of the things he likes. But there hasn’t been any milk in the fridge lately, so he just wakes up to Lu Han most of the time.
When Taemin comes for a visit one afternoon, copper hair tied into a messy yet attractive ponytail, Lu Han completely mistakes him for a girl and shakes his hand, maybe a little too violently, saying, "I didn't know little Jongin had a girlfriend. Hi, I'm Lu Han!"
'Little' 20 year old Jongin frowns at him from the floor as he stretches, more at the way he called him 'little' than at the fact that he just assumed his best friend was his girlfriend. Lu Han's met Taemin more than once, and this really isn't the first he's mistaken him for a girl. A lot of guys mistake Taemin for a girl on a weekly basis, anyway.
"You weren't joking about the whole Lu Han problem thing, huh, little Jongin," Taemin snickers, the moment Lu Han has entered his room and is out of earshot. Jongin would have thrown him a dirty look if he weren't so busy trying to reach his toes; instead, he settles for a grunt.
"Who told you I was?" Jongin demands at the floor, reaching out blindly. His fingers come up short, only grazing his toenails, and when he stretches out more, the back of his knees burn. Taemin decides to help him by placing his foot on Jongin's spine, sole digging uncomfortably on Jongin's skin. Jongin winces from the pain.
"Taemin--" he rasps out with difficulty, but Taemin is unrelenting and cruel and pushes downwards until Jongin gets a hold of his toes.
"You should get a girlfriend, then," Taemin says, pressing harder. Jongin is left with the inability to reply as he tries to resist the unwanted weight. "since he seems so excited in meeting a non-existent one," and then Taemin gives a particularly hard push, and Jongin's forehead touches his knees.
"Ow," Jongin wheezes, teeth clenched, eyes squeezed shut, mind already gearing up to think of painful ways to hurt Taemin back, "ow ow ow ow ow,"
The weight disappears, followed by an awed exhale of, "God, you're flexible,"
*
Some days after, Jongin wakes up on the cold floor, shirtless, an hour after Lu Han's left for work. He pads sleepily to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with a lazy hand; there is no breakfast waiting for him and no milk in the fridge - all Jongin gets is coffee brewing on the countertop. The counter feels cool on his butt and bare feet when he sits on it, hugging his legs close to his body, trying to keep himself warm. Lu Han's never done that nor has ever known why Jongin does it in the first place; he's always been the type to sit at the dining table and eat his food slowly and carefully, the complete opposite of how he does everything else, while Jongin drinks his everyday milk across him, most of the time curled up on top of the counter like he is at the moment.
Jongin doesn't like coffee much, compared to Lu Han. And, through the hazy steam rising from the coffee he has reluctantly decided to drink as an alternative for milk, he can almost see Lu Han nursing himself a second up, later on maybe a third, a fourth, in just one morning.
Jongin doesn't need to specifically try and look for them - Luhan leaves them everywhere, carelessly unaware most of the time. Jongin, on the countertop, doesn't need to do much to locate his traces: there's a lone mug waiting for a wash in the sink, the sweet smell of fruit wafts its way from the open bathroom to mix with the coffee, and there’s a distant sound of an ignored Pokemon battle from a console in the living room.
Lu Han leaves pieces of himself everywhere which Jongin, out of pure habit, collects and tucks into memory.
He ends up drinking half of the coffee and then dumping the other half down the sink. His mug takes its place beside Lu Han's, Jongin leaving traces of his own.
This is how the morning goes.
*
Technically, this isn't a problem as it is not something Jongin bothers fixing, not something Lu Han bothers acknowledging.
It isn't a problem as it is a computation. All Jongin needs to do is sit somewhere and catalog everything into numbers, symbols, deciding where it even started, years ago when he thought it was a good idea to share a uni flat with Lu Han (turns out it is), and where it ends--where he wants it to end.
It isn't a problem, he insists. Fuck diagrams.
Jongin starts with almost three years ago, and how it took Lu Han at least six months to drop the nickname 'kkamjong' and to start to call Jongin by his real name. Two years ago when Lu Han had first mistook Taemin not only as a girl but also as Jongin's girlfriend (and almost two years after when he does it again). A year ago when Jongin realised that he may be quite in love with Lu Han, may have been for quite awhile now. A year ago when he abruptly confessed, telling him a fast, "hyung, I like you," with which Lu Han had mistook for "more milk?" and passed him the carton.
Three weeks ago and he was kissing Lu Han for the first time, tasting syrup and pancakes and horrible coffee on his lips - he tasted both bitter and sweet and definitely what Jongin had always thought Lu Han would taste like. He had only managed to place his hand on his cheek when Lu Han pulled away, stood up, and took a step back.
He looked alarmed, shaken, and he took another step back, and another, until his back collided with the wall. Something shifted in the air. When Jongin had reached out his hand, he could almost feel an invisible barrier, a thick glass of four years Lu Han had put up, and it’s as if it was stretching, trying to reach his toes, so close yet so far.
*
"I'm home!" Lu Han declares upon getting inside their flat. Jongin hears him mock-sob afterwards from the other room where he's sitting on the dining table, reviewing his notes.
"Don't worry," he calls out, skimming now as laziness takes over, "I saved it."
This is when Jongin hears the familiar opening tune of Pokemon SoulSilver and sees Lu Han sitting across him. "Wow, how did you know?" he's not really paying attention anymore as he asks it, eyes trained on his yellow DSi, so Jongin doesn't bother replying.
They end up eating dinner later than usual. Jongin manages to sleep over Lu Han's commentary of the game he's playing, half of his body sprawled at awkward angles on the dining table, and drooling. Jongin knows this because when he wakes up to the smell of food, Lu Han turns to him and says, wincing, "Ew, wash your face,"
And he does.
*
By the fourth time Jongin makes the mistake of going inside Lu Han's room only to realise they're not sharing anymore, Lu Han finds him sitting on his bed.
"Get off," Lu Han warns, squinting in the dark. "now."
"This is ridiculous, hyung,"
"Get off, Jongin,"
When Lu Han gets near enough to inflict damage with a towel, Jongin stands up, patting his pillow twice as he does so. Lu Han knuckles his head when he passes by.
"You are such a kid sometimes," he says, bending over his bed to fix what minimal damage Jongin has done as if he won't do more later when he goes to bed. Jongin knows Lu Han's just trying to keep his hands busy, with both of them in the same room and all.
"Is that why you won't even consider the idea?" Jongin bravely asks. By asking that question, Jongin risks everything they've managed to fix for the past weeks. It's hard trying to build a stable friendship again, ever since that afternoon. The question hangs heavily in the air; slowly, Lu Han straightens up and turns to look at Jongin.
"You didn't even say anything, hyung," Jongin continues, and he barely registers the hurt in his voice. He doesn't elaborate further because surely, Lu Han knows what he's talking about. Lu Han being silent about it for three weeks is one thing, him pretending to know nothing is another. Jongin didn't think it would take him this long to confront Lu Han, honestly, when he suggested that they get separate rooms.
"Four years ago," Lu Han starts, disrupting the flat’s silence with a voice that’s loud and clear. "I met this kid at a party. I thought he was cute and he seemed to like me a lot, so I thought we should get together. And we did,"
Lu Han rarely ever talks about himself. He hands out stories of himself in well measured quantities over time. Jongin can't help but feel like he doesn't know Lu Han well enough, after all these years.
"So we got together for weeks, months--I forgot. Until one day, Yixing pulled me harshly by the arm, and asked me what the hell I was doing with a 16-year old.”
Lu Han smiles wistfully and shrugs, "I honestly didn't know,"
"In a few weeks I'll turn 21," Jongin replies unhelpfully. Jongin wonders what would've happened if Lu Han hadn't met that kid, whoever he was. What would've happened if Jongin hadn't kissed him and instead told him what he actually felt from the start, asked him if he did, too. Then again, Jongin's never really been the type to choose words over actions.
"Yes," Lu Han nods, "and 3 months afterwards I turn 4 years older than you,"
"I'll wait," Jongin replies before he realises it's probably not a good idea to say that. The last time he said that, he told it to Lu Han in such a soft voice Lu Han probably didn't hear him. Now, he said it a little louder, a little more confidently, and now he's actually sure.
Lu Han's laugh is expected - default Lu Han defense mechanism. He walks closer and turns Jongin around by the shoulders, steering him as they walk to the door. "Why do I always attract the younger ones?" he asks with a quiet laugh. Though, underneath it all, Jongin can hear the uncertainty and hesitation.
He disregards the witty remark he had in mind and bids him goodnight. The warmth of Lu Han's hands on his shoulders stay there even after Lu Han's closed the door.
*
Jongin wakes up one afternoon on the sofa at hearing the front door squeak open. Lu Han's brought them dinner. From Minseok he informs him happily, cheeks red from the cold, He even gave me the recipe!
When they eat, Jongin raises one long leg and folds it near himself, wrapping his arm around it as he picks out the meat to eat. He leaves the vegetables for Lu Han, partly because he hates vegetables, partly because Lu Han needs them more. Lu Han doesn't notice how the amount of greens on his plate increases every time he looks away. That is, until at one point he catches Jongin in the act and he hits him with the butt of his chopsticks, saying, "Yah, what do you think you're doing?"
Jongin shrugs, and he gets half of Lu Han's meat in return.
Jongin washes the dishes after they're done eating. Although eventually, when Lu Han starts to notice his lack of enthusiasm, he takes over the task and demands that Jongin dry them instead.
Lu Han hums as he washes the dishes. Sadly, Jongin can't hear well over the sound of the rushing water. It drowns out everything else and blocks out Lu Han's voice. Much like the way Lu Han is, loud and talkative, drowns out everything that Jongin does, completely ignoring what Jongin feels. But, when he goes to bed at night, exhausted from the school work he's done for the day, he falls asleep to the memory of Lu Han's voice, distinct and clear and real as if he were singing in the same room.
*
Jongin wakes up with a jolt when warm hands touch his forearm. He blinks rapidly at the sudden light until all the blurs turn sharper, until all his eyes clear and all he can see is Lu Han sitting across him, examining the bowl of ramyun he's made.
"Wow, Jongin, what's the occasion?" he asks, amused.
Jongin opens his mouth to reply when a sound of crinkling paper interrupts him. He shifts his foot, and the sound comes back. Lu Han isn't paying attention, already scooping some for himself, when Jongin reaches down to get it. His hand brushes Lu Han's feet as he does so, earning himself a half-shriek. A smile plays on his lips and he does it again on purpose.
Lu Han kicks him under the table which he catches in time. "While you're at it, why don't you massage it, then," he teases, and he's hesitating, Jongin can tell, as if he knew Jongin would but still wanted to be sure.
Jongin complies, grinning, hand on his calf. Lu Han kicks him again, this time hitting him square in the abdomen. "Ow,"
"Your ramyun's bland, by the way," Lu Han says over a mouthful. Jongin watches as he swallows it anyway. Something flutters inside his body, a kickstart of emotions and suddenly he feels endearment and relief; Lu Han cooks most of the time, but whenever Jongin does, regardless if it's burnt or bland or undercooked, Lu Han still eats them.
Jongin doesn't eat that morning because he isn't hungry. He drinks coffee because there still isn't milk, occasionally grimacing because he really hates the way it tastes, alternating between watching Lu Han finish the bland ramyun's he's made, and discreetly proffering his mug towards him, half-expecting Lu Han to accept it. Lu Han doesn't. Jongin ends up drinking it all in the end, the coffee turning much bitter than what he'd initially tasted, for some reason.
The paper underneath his foot's forgotten.
(He finds the paper again one morning, 2 days after, under Lu Han's DSi. It's Minseok's recipe. Underneath is a note:
oh so this is where it went
And then in a very intricate handwriting with flowers and sparkly shapes, it says:
jongin and his midnight food adventures jjang!)
*
Watching late night comedy shows is a routine in the flat. Jongin initially took over the whole couch with his feet on Lu Han's lap but after awhile, he decides to sit upright and just lean all of his body weight against Lu Han's side, his chin on his shoulder. Lu Han doesn't mind, or probably doesn't show that he does; there's no tension in his shoulders and no stilt in his actions. Jongin's relieved for the most part because it meant that at least this amount of skinship can push through.
The show is pathetic and totally unfunny and before long, Jongin feels his eyes getting heavier by the second. Blinking multiple times is futile and, even with Lu Han's loud laughter and shaking stature, he falls asleep with his head on his knees, one hand loosely wrapped around a thin wrist.
He rouses to a shift in position. He doesn't know how long he's been asleep, just that when he opens his eyes, Lu Han looks apologetic as he removes Jongin's head from where it's leaning on his shoulder to help him lie down on his back.
"Sorry," he says softly. Jongin blinks a few more times to get a clearer view. Lu Han isn't meeting his eyes. "will you be sleeping here tonight?" And then he adds, laughing quietly, "Again?"
Jongin is still tired and still sleepy and wants to pull Lu Han down to kiss him again. It's a decision made drunk on exhaustion and his vision's still blurry that he's not sure if the desire is unconscious or not. He thinks he's still dreaming when he reaches out and his hand catches air instead of skin; Lu Han's stood up.
Jongin leans forward and catches his wrist. "Don't," Lu Han gazes down at him curiously, don't, what?
"Don't," When Jongin tries sitting up, his head pounds and black spots cover his eyesight before it clears up. As soon as it does, he sees Lu Han sitting down beside him again, waiting. Ironic now, since Jongin's the one who's been waiting. Lu Han flits through his fingertips every time he tries reaching out. "Don't go away," he finishes, hand on his wrist tightening, "stop running away, hyung,"
The look on Lu Han's face is unreadable. Jongin isn't sure if he's hesitating or embarrassed or indignant. There's no ripple of emotion on his face, nor is there in his voice as he replies, softly, "I'm not, Jongin,"
There it is again - the sudden urge to kiss Lu Han. The desire is overwhelming: it starts from the curling of his toes to the heating up of his stomach to the quickening of his heart to the automatic parting of his lips. Lu Han's uttered it like an invitation, a dare. Jongin is quick to oblige.
And so he leans closer slowly, tentatively, waiting for Lu Han to move away. He doesn't. Even when Jongin's placed his other hand on his jaw and pulled his face in, he makes no movement. Lu Han's pulse quickens almost unnoticeably under his hold. The couch dips under his weight a little, the silence of the whole flat heavy on his shoulder as he leans in towards Lu Han, and it pushes him forward, urging him on.
Lu Han's eyes flutter close when Jongin eventually gets near enough to see how long his eyelashes are really are. So very close - like stretching, just another push to his spine, and he's almost reached his lips, almost-
Jongin's phone rings somewhere between them. Something breaks inside Jongin when Lu Han pulls his hand from Jongin's grasp and stands up to leave him there without another word.
The phone stops ringing only to ring once more. On the third ring, Jongin answers it.
"Take your dogs back," Taemins says, voice static and distant, and too lively for someone awake at almost 12 in the evening, "They pee everywhere and they--"
"Fuck you," and Jongin feels a lot like sobbing, hands shaking and heart racing, "Fuck you, fuck you, I hate you--" His heart feels too big to fit inside his ribs. Rejection seeps into his veins and immobilizes and numbs his entire being. The couch feels a lot emptier and colder than Jongin remembers it to be. There is still silence in the whole flat, and it makes Jongin hear his heartbeat in his ears - clearer, erratic, and painful. He hangs up even before Taemin reprimands him.
Back to square one.
*
The next day Jongin spends too many hours playing video games with Taemin, who keeps laughing at Jongin's blatant pathetic playing.
"Years of practice, kkamjong," Taemin says, eyes glued to the screen. His fingers dance on the controller, and in the game, Itachi goes for another Ultimate Jutsu. Jongin yells out in frustration when his Sasuke loses for the hundredth time.
It's only after he beats Taemin for the first time the whole day, his Kiba doing a combo in the air, brutally attacking Taemin's Kabuto, that he spares his watch a glance. It's almost 11:30 in the evening; he's been here since 2 in the afternoon.
And so he brings Jjanggu home with him and leaves Monggu with Taemin. "I'll come back for it tomorrow," he calls out from the asphalt outside, "I can't carry two dogs in this cold." Taemin gives a small wave of goodbye before disappearing behind the door.
Jongin walks to his apartment shivering. Jjangu is sleeping against his chest inside his thick coat and his fur tickles Jongin's neck, a little. There was once a time when Jongin entertained the idea of walking around the flat in just his boxers in the heat. That idea seems so distant, now, as he shivers his way to his apartment.
He arrives to see Lu Han in the middle of the living room, face undistinguishable in the light spilling from his room from the end of the hallway. Jjangu goes immediately under the couch once he's free from Jongin's grasp.
"What are you doing awake at this hour, hyung?" Jongin asks as he switches on the light. The sudden light blinds him a little and he squints, seeing Lu Han's tight smile.
"I was doing some work," comes the easy reply. There are no papers on the coffee table. Jongin spares a glance at the dining table: no papers, still. The DS is nowhere to be seen, so is Lu Han's rubik's cube. The remote's placed over the television set, out of Lu Han's reach. What work?
Jongin shimmies out of his coat. He slouches a little at the warmth that envelops him immediately afterwards. "Were you waiting for me?"
Lu Han's reply, this time, does not come as easily as the first one. Jongin waits as Lu Han bites his lips, deliberating. His phone is in his hand. Slowly, he nods. Hesitates, then cracks a small smile.
"Didn't know where you were," Lu Han says. Both Jongin and he walk to the kitchen where he offers Jongin a glass of water. "You weren't answering my calls."
"It's dead, under my pillow. I think," Jongin gulps down the whole glass and places it next to Lu Han's mug in the sink. Purely accidental, Jongin catches a glimpse of the coffee maker, empty. Hours ago it was filled to the brim.
"Well, goodnight, Jongin," Lu Han pats Jongin's back twice as he passes him. Lu Han's shoulders loosen more and more as he approaches his room, as he drags his feet, slippers producing noise against the floor.
Later that night Jongin lies in bed and checks his phone. It's not dead, but there’s only 12% of its battery remaining and there are 4 missed calls - all from Lu Han. He closes his eyes and imagines hours ago, when he left and didn't tell Lu Han where he was going because he thought he didn't need to. When he ate dinner with Kibum and Taemin, and out of habit, began picking out the greens to give Taemin which Kibum found unnecessary and ridiculous. When Taemin's Itachi beat Sasuke for the hundreth time, the same way he beats Lu Han in Dance Central. Defeat makes Jongin's blood boil in competitiveness, Lu Han's in humor and glee.
He imagines Lu Han hours ago, realizing Jongin wasn't coming home anytime soon all of a sudden. He has probably called once out of curiosity, then called again out of confusion. Again, and he's probably starting to panic now, and maybe at the fourth call, at receiving no reply, he makes his way to the living room, ready to go out. And maybe he'd stayed there, waited, not entirely sure if Jongin would even come home-if Jongin could still face him after what had happened, the subtle rejection he did that had might as well been a straight forward “No.”
*
The next morning he finds Lu Han cooking breakfast. Sunday, no work, no school; there's another dog to be picked up. Lu Han hears him even before he sees him. He tilts his head, his body turning slightly, to say, "Good morning,"
Jongin makes a noise at the back of his throat, voice scratchy. Lu Han doesn't mind, already turning back to his task.
When Jongin's finished washing up, almost falling asleep on the toilet seat in the bathroom, he opens the fridge to find that there still isn't milk. There hasn't been any milk for over a week now. "Milk," he mutters under his breath, and then continues like a mantra, "milk milk milk milk," Maybe he'll pick one up when he goes home from Taemin's place later.
Lu Han's still cooking, so he sits at the table and rests his cheek on the cold woodwork. Jjangu is nipping at his toes, and Jongin plays with it, flexes and stretches his toes half heartedly. He catches sight of a mug - and then a phone.
"Sorry," he mumbles, cheek still against the surface of the table so it comes out almost incoherent, more like 'rowry,'
Lu Han understands anyway. "For what?"
"Last night. Didn't think I'd take long, really," he explains. He stares at Lu Han's back, unconsciously taking into account how pointy his bones are, how fragile he seems, under the harsh light. But then he catches sight of his stable hands, flipping something on the pan, and Jongin reconsiders describing Lu Han as dainty and small. "Didn't think you'd wait," he adds after some thought, although it's a little softer.
Lu Han doesn't reply - Jongin didn’t expect him to, in the first place - only bends down to turn the gas range off. Jongin doesn't sit upright until Lu Han's placed a plate of omelette in front of his face, blocking his view.
"Eat up, Jongin,"
Lu Han sits across him, cradling a mug of warm coffee in his hands. "So, Monggu?"
"I'll pick him up later," Jjanggu's still nipping playfully at his toes, tongue wet and warm and kind of gross. He looks up from his food to look at Lu Han. "Do you want to come?"
"No, thank you," and it's a fast reply, slipping out of Lu Han's mouth without hesitation, as if Lu Han knew Jongin would ask that question. "Got stuff to do,"
Jongin deliberates pressing for a decent excuse, because 'got stuff to do' doesn't really account for anything, but later on drops the idea and shrugs. And maybe he's a little bitter, a little hurt, when he says, "Suit yourself, hyung,"
*
The moment Jongin arrives and places Monggu on the floor, it goes over to where Jjanggu is sleeping under the coffee table, biting its ear to wake the other up. Jongin looks at them fondly, because he's missed them; they were with Taemin for almost 3 months, who wouldn't?
"You missed them, didn't you?" Lu Han's voice says from behind him. He jumps at the sound, heart racing immediately, and is about to reprimand Lu Han for surprising him when he turns around and instead of seeing Lu Han, he sees a tree. A Christmas tree.
"What--"
Lu Han's face appears behind the tree, smiling. "Come and help me, will you?" he asks playfully, before disappearing behind it again. Hands appear the next, placing little balls on the tree's pines. "No sense in going 'Surprise Jongin merry christmas' now, though, because you arrived earlier than I expected,"
Jongin shrugs off his jacket and inspects the tree, and he can't help but feel suspicious; he knows Lu Han doesn't celebrate Christmas, and where the hell did he even get that Christmas tree. Also, he realises a little belatedly, that it's 3 days before the 25th - surely, Lu Han has to have a very good reason to set up a Christmas tree now, because Jongin's never heard of people setting up Christmas decorations a few days before Christmas. That would be ridiculous. In fact, this is ridiculous.
He didn't mean to say that out loud.
Lu Han reappears again, going around the tree to walk over to Jongin and pull him nearer. "Why don't you just help me, Jongin," Lu Han gets a nearby angel ornament and places it on Jongin's hand, closing his fingers around it. "You told me about your family going away for Christmas," he whispers. His eyes are earnest and serious when he says it, looking straight into Jongin's, that Jongin can't help but keep the eye contact. The serious atmosphere gets ruined, however, when Lu Han uses a finger to poke Jongin's chest, grinning as he says, "I'm such a good hyung, you know? So thoughtful. You should thank me,"
It was meant to be a joke, Jongin knows, because as soon as he's said it, Lu Han retracts his hand and blushes, probably already regretting trying to sound cocky. Jongin waits until he's able to look at Jongin again to say, sincerely, "Thank you,"
The raw sincerity in Jongin's voice makes Lu Han huff before he shrugs and goes back to his task.
So they hang up the ornaments one by one. There isn't much, only those little balls and a few angels and stars. It's not even covered in Christmas lights yet. It's just a simple tree, placed on a table so it towers over them both. Their hands occasionally graze, and although Jongin doesn't pay much mind to it, doesn't pay much mind to the warmth it brings inside him that spreads to his toes, clearly Lu Han does. The moment their fingers brush, Lu Han stills, waiting for something. Jongin considers touching his hand, holding it - that would be romantic. But he doesn't, and instead, he makes sure to move out of his way.
When Jongin reaches up to place the star on the tip, standing on his tiptoes, something warm touches his spine: a hand. He freezes immediately on instinct - the painful memory of Taemin's relentless foot digging into his back is enough for him to jerk away. The warm hand stays, though, and the memory of Taemin gets replaced by Lu Han waking him up in the middle of the night whenever he sleeps on the couch, urging him to stand up and not be so lazy, hand on his back guiding him to his room as they stumble awkwardly in the hallway because Lu Han can't carry all of sleep-dazed Jongin's weight.
So Jongin pushes back into it, a little, and places the star on its place on the top of tree. Lu Han's hand is still on his back when he leans back on his heels. And Jongin's scared, a little, trying to figure what it all meant. Probably nothing, everything means nothing, he knows: the tree, the touching, all of it. It's Lu Han's way of showing he cares, he acknowledges Jongin's feelings, although not really planning on doing anything about it.
The star is a little crooked. Jongin notices this and he tries reaching up again, standing on his tiptoes, when a pull on his shirt grounds him down, in place. He turns back to see Lu Han leaning up, face dangerously close, and Jongin does the first thing he thinks of doing: flinches.
They lapse into an uncomfortable silence. The star is still crooked, Monggu looks like he's trying to kill Jjangu, it's cold, and Jongin's hungry. There are so many things to say to ease the silence settling, but this time Jongin doesn't say anything, welcoming the uneasiness like an old friend. It's always been there anyway, with Lu Han, so might as well embrace it.
Lu Han speaks up first, "I was waiting," His hand is still on Jongin's hem, pulling and squeezing the fabric, trying to keep his hands busy. "You didn't answer me before. Why, Jongin?"
He's been asked this before, Jongin remembers. Also winter, cold, and it was the first time he'd told Lu Han he thought he liked him. Lu Han had asked him why he did he think he did, later on asking a direct why and Jongin didn't know, really, just that he did, and that was that. So he didn't say anything. Now, he doesn't say anything either.
"I--" don't know.
"I was waiting for it to go away," Lu Han continues slowly, frowning at where his hand held Jongin's shirt, "waiting for you to realise that maybe you were wrong. Maybe you didn't mean to say that and you were confused,"
This time he looks up. This time he lets go of Jongin's shirt and instead inserts his hands into his pockets, fingers curling against the denim.
"But you weren't, were you?"
Jongin nods. Because he really wasn't, because there was no reason to be wrong, when from the start, there wasn't anything to not like about Lu Han, anyway.
He nods again, and when he reaches out to remove Lu Han's hands out of his pockets, it doesn't feel like reaching for his toes at all, doesn't feel like he's trying to accomplish something and getting hurt in the process.
When they hold hands, Lu Han gives out an exhale of relief, and doesn't retract his fingers. Doesn't pull away.
*
Jongin wakes up on the cold floor, shirtless. He's fallen out of his bed again. There is no breakfast waiting for him when he pads sleepily to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with a lazy hand. There's coffee brewing on the countertop and he remembers he hasn't bought milk for almost 2 weeks now, so he doesn't bother opening the fridge. There are papers scattered on the dining table. Jongin leans back on the counter and tries not to fall asleep standing up.
Later a sound of a knob reaches his ear and he collects the papers in his hand slowly, actions sluggish and heavy with sleep.
"I forgot--" comes the flustered voice, at the same time Jongin thrusts the papers out to Lu Han. His cheeks are pink from the cold, and he brightens immediately at the papers, breathing out a relieved, "Thanks!"
Jongin watches him walk briskly to the door. "There's breakfast in the fridge," he says, trying to put on his shoes and at the same time he's trying not to lose his balance. Jongin watches, amused, leaning against a wall. "Also, please wash the dishes after you're done eating,"
"You'll be late if you keep talking,"
Once Lu Han's managed to wear his shoes, he gives a wave, "Bye!" and turns the knob. And, as if realising something, he turns around, and walks towards Jongin in haste. In a blink, his lips press against the corners of Jongin's, and when he pulls back he looks sheepish.
"Bye,"
Jongin leans forward on instinct. Lu Han pushes him back with a smirk and turns to walk to the door. It's only when he's gone outside that Jongin regains his senses and he remembers, a little too late, that there still isn't milk.
He comes out of the flat wearing a shirt and a jacket he'd picked up on the way from the kitchen to the front door. Lu Han jumps a good foot in the air when Jongin finally catches up with him, hooking their arms together.
"No milk." Jongin simply offers as an explanation at Lu Han's stricken expression. He tugs him to the side when a biker passes by, and they both stumble on the sideway for awhile before they manage to regain their balance.
"Okay," is the only thing Lu Han says and then he's removing his arm from Jongin's, sliding his hand down until he finds fingers and a warm palm, and holds that instead. "Okay."