I Don't Understand
This is for skyangel2009, although I don't remember why (maybe the super show cd? or else it was the Junsu icon....). She asked for Hankyung and Yoochun, with language difficulties.
SungMin’s name, muttered in frustration among words Yoochun didn’t recognize, brought Yoochun to a halt, and he turned to find the source. Standing against a building (as if that were the only thing holding him up), stood someone rather familiar, phone pressed to his ear.
What was Hankyung doing in Tokyo?
Cautiously, he stepped closer, and when the other man hung up with a sigh, Yoochun tapped his shoulder. “You look lost,” he said.
Frustration, incomprehension, and relief fought a brief battle across Hankyung’s face. “What?”
And Yoochun realized he’d spoken the wrong language. “Sorry,” he apologized, this time in Korean. “You look lost.”
Hankyung launched into an explanation, Mandarin and heavily-accented Korean flowing together in utter nonsense.
Well, Hankyung understood.
Yoochun held up a hand, and the flow of words stopped. “I didn’t understand,” he said. “Come on. We’ll figure this out.”
The Chinese man picked up his duffle bag with a sigh. “Thank you.”
They walked the few blocks back to Yoochun’s in silence. Hankyung slumped wearily against the elevator wall, and looked too tired to move when it opened.
“We have a guest,” he announced to the empty-seeming apartment, once he’d gotten the door unlocked, and ushered Hankyung in. “Sit down, relax,” he murmured, and went to find everyone.
Junsu lay stretched out on his bed, phone to his ear. “Who are you talking to?” Yoochun asked, not in the least bit worried about interrupting.
Junsu glanced over his shoulder at him. “HyukJae.”
“Ask him why Hankyung’s in Japan?”
When Junsu repeated the question, he sat up suddenly, and Yoochun could hear HyukJae’s excited voice coming through the phone. “What? Wait! Oh… here. You talk to him.” He handed the phone to Yoochun. “I guess he’s lost,” Junsu added helpfully.
“Hello?”
“Yoochun-ah? Where did you see him?”
“He’s on the couch in the front room,” Yoochun said, not too surprised to hear the worry in Junsu’s best friend’s voice. “Why is he here?”
“Some of the guys went on vacation, and he was supposed to join them, but they missed his flight, and SungMin’s phone broke, and….”
He’d forgotten that once started, HyukJae barely needed to breathe. “Stop.”
Thankfully, he did.
“Talk to SungMin or whoever, and find out where they are. One of us will go get them.” He handed the phone back with a “thanks” to Junsu, and went back into the living room.
His call hadn’t gone completely ignored, then, because Hankyung had half-finished a bowl of Kimchi, probably from JaeJoong. Yoochun sat down on the chair nearest Hankyung. “Junsu’s talking to HyukJae, and we’ll get them here,” he said, and Hankyung looked up. “He said SungMin’s phone broke.”
“That explains the strange message,” Hankyung said, and then his eyes slid shut, hands going lax, and then he started, gripping the bowl that had started to fall, and wrenched his eyes open with an effort. Yoochun grinned, recognizing sheer exhaustion.
“Lay down, take a nap,” he said gently, holding his hands out for the bowl. “It’ll be a while before they get here,” he added as Hankyung gave it to him.
Hankyung hesitated, but then nodded, apparently too tired to do anything else. “Thank you. I think I will.”
Yoochun got up and took the bowl back to the kitchen, then went to get a blanket from the hall closet, pausing at the doorway to his and JaeJoong’s room long enough to thank the older man before returning with a blanket to cover Hankyung with. When he did get back, Hankyung had stretched out on the couch and had already fallen asleep. Yoochun smiled, draped the blanket over him, and sat down nearby to make sure he remained undisturbed until his friends showed up.
SungMin’s name, muttered in frustration among words Yoochun didn’t recognize, brought Yoochun to a halt, and he turned to find the source. Standing against a building (as if that were the only thing holding him up), stood someone rather familiar, phone pressed to his ear.
What was Hankyung doing in Tokyo?
Cautiously, he stepped closer, and when the other man hung up with a sigh, Yoochun tapped his shoulder. “You look lost,” he said.
Frustration, incomprehension, and relief fought a brief battle across Hankyung’s face. “What?”
And Yoochun realized he’d spoken the wrong language. “Sorry,” he apologized, this time in Korean. “You look lost.”
Hankyung launched into an explanation, Mandarin and heavily-accented Korean flowing together in utter nonsense.
Well, Hankyung understood.
Yoochun held up a hand, and the flow of words stopped. “I didn’t understand,” he said. “Come on. We’ll figure this out.”
The Chinese man picked up his duffle bag with a sigh. “Thank you.”
They walked the few blocks back to Yoochun’s in silence. Hankyung slumped wearily against the elevator wall, and looked too tired to move when it opened.
“We have a guest,” he announced to the empty-seeming apartment, once he’d gotten the door unlocked, and ushered Hankyung in. “Sit down, relax,” he murmured, and went to find everyone.
Junsu lay stretched out on his bed, phone to his ear. “Who are you talking to?” Yoochun asked, not in the least bit worried about interrupting.
Junsu glanced over his shoulder at him. “HyukJae.”
“Ask him why Hankyung’s in Japan?”
When Junsu repeated the question, he sat up suddenly, and Yoochun could hear HyukJae’s excited voice coming through the phone. “What? Wait! Oh… here. You talk to him.” He handed the phone to Yoochun. “I guess he’s lost,” Junsu added helpfully.
“Hello?”
“Yoochun-ah? Where did you see him?”
“He’s on the couch in the front room,” Yoochun said, not too surprised to hear the worry in Junsu’s best friend’s voice. “Why is he here?”
“Some of the guys went on vacation, and he was supposed to join them, but they missed his flight, and SungMin’s phone broke, and….”
He’d forgotten that once started, HyukJae barely needed to breathe. “Stop.”
Thankfully, he did.
“Talk to SungMin or whoever, and find out where they are. One of us will go get them.” He handed the phone back with a “thanks” to Junsu, and went back into the living room.
His call hadn’t gone completely ignored, then, because Hankyung had half-finished a bowl of Kimchi, probably from JaeJoong. Yoochun sat down on the chair nearest Hankyung. “Junsu’s talking to HyukJae, and we’ll get them here,” he said, and Hankyung looked up. “He said SungMin’s phone broke.”
“That explains the strange message,” Hankyung said, and then his eyes slid shut, hands going lax, and then he started, gripping the bowl that had started to fall, and wrenched his eyes open with an effort. Yoochun grinned, recognizing sheer exhaustion.
“Lay down, take a nap,” he said gently, holding his hands out for the bowl. “It’ll be a while before they get here,” he added as Hankyung gave it to him.
Hankyung hesitated, but then nodded, apparently too tired to do anything else. “Thank you. I think I will.”
Yoochun got up and took the bowl back to the kitchen, then went to get a blanket from the hall closet, pausing at the doorway to his and JaeJoong’s room long enough to thank the older man before returning with a blanket to cover Hankyung with. When he did get back, Hankyung had stretched out on the couch and had already fallen asleep. Yoochun smiled, draped the blanket over him, and sat down nearby to make sure he remained undisturbed until his friends showed up.