Nine Point (Ten if You Count Flipping Over)
Nine Point (Ten if You Count Flipping Over)
PG13; SHINee-Jongho; Romance; fatdix
2688 words
Jonghyun's too observant.
A/N I started out really liking what I was writing, but as the story wore on, I felt like I was falling into old habits. :( Written because I love Jongho, and I need to pay more attention to it. Ninja!Taekey. I apologise for the incessant mentioning of the bus tickets. I feel like they've become a pet in this fic.
Nine Point (Ten if You Count Flipping Over)
Point one - you fold in half.
Jonghyun doesn’t peg himself to be an observant person, especially without a reason for him to be. And during the event that he has seen something, he often takes far too much of it into deliberation. There is always a pile of bus tickets in the open-mouthed chute at the front of the bus, but there aren’t any in it today. Vaguely, he wonders where they’ve gone, but later decides that the crease in his shirt is of far greater importance than a few absconded bus tickets.
Day two and the tickets are missing again, and this time it gets to him (which is why, he tells himself, he tries not to observe things, because they get to him). “Where do you suppose the bus tickets have gone, Kibum?”
“Why, does it matter?”
And for some reason, Jonghyun thinks that it matters a great deal, but he keeps a lid on it, “I guess not,” because Kibum has a relatively short fuse (he just isn’t one to care for petty nuances of change in scenery). So he asks him whatever else he can think of to keep the conversation light. “How’d you do on the math test today?”
“Oh, it was a breeze, really. Thank goodness we studied last night.”
“I thought so too,” Jonghyun rests his head on Kibum’s shoulder, and Kibum pushes him off, laughing and ew dandruff, Jonghyun.
It doesn’t seem to matter, either way, whether the content of his conversation with Kibum remains about school work or did you check out the hooters on that hot new teacher (even though they both know they’re not interested like that), or the way the sun pigments their skin in patches through the open bus windows. Jonghyun can’t seem to get his mind off the stupid bus tickets.
Point two - and back down on itself (on both sides).
Figures. The one day Kibum isn’t with him on the bus, there are no seats. Jonghyun decides to head to the rear like a good boy and think about the bus tickets, trying at the same time not to fall when the bus drives over potholes. Muttering to himself is probably not the sanest of ideas, but Jonghyun can’t help it, “stop thinking about them, Jesus. You are going to kill yourself.” The boy seated in front of him looks up briefly, and then goes back to doing whatever he was doing.
Then he sees them - a big pile of the blasted bus tickets haphazardly thrown into his lap. This tall, gangly, wide-eyed boy who stares at his stash of tickets in what can only be described as terribly intense concentration. Jonghyun guesses at maybe three days worth of bus tickets there in his possession, and his mind heaves a sigh, “there, you got your answer. Happy now?”
He - Minho - picks up one of the clean rectangles and starts to fold it. Fold, fold, but Jonghyun isn’t really watching his hands anymore, because his eyes (even though Jonghyun can’t really see them that clearly, not when they’re down cast), reach out to him with spectral arms, grasping the sides of his head, screaming my eyes are up here.
“How could I miss them? They’re like stars.”
“What?” Minho looks at him, confused. It’s embarrassing, and it’s barely registered in his mind that he’s even spoken out loud. He clears his throat of his embarrassment and tries to look away, but goes straight back to staring when he is pretty sure that Minho isn’t looking.
But Minho never stops looking out of the corner of his eye, because as interesting as folding his tickets is, this person - Jonghyun - is extraordinarily compelling in his own right. Minho gets the brunt of his profile (since he’s hell bent on pretending he’s not looking too), and he decides that it’s the best thing he’s seen all day, never mind the strange muttering.
“You’ll make yourself look crazy,” he’s looking away, but Minho can see his lips moving.
Yea, never mind.
Point three - then make an open book.
“Kim Jonghyun?” Minho barely registers Taemin’s italicised surprise or Jinki’s jaw dropping because, “yea, so?”
“You can’t like Kim Jonghyun.”
“Why not? And I don’t think it’s fair to say that I like him already.”
“He’s joint at the hip with that Kibum kid, you know,” and Taemin has a rather valid point, which is further reinforced by Jinki’s too vigorous nodding. “They’re practically married.”
“Only, they’re not together.”
Taemin narrows his eyes at Minho, uncertain. “And you know that because?” Minho has to hand it to him, Taemin never misses a beat.
“I don’t know,” Minho has to laugh at himself for being so completely sure of something that really has no basis in fact. He really doesn’t (know, that is). Unsurprisingly, Taemin is already clucking his tongue and telling Jinki to get ready for long three way phone calls at night about ‘why doesn’t he like me’.
“I can sort of read him,” and just as he ends the last syllable, Kim Jonghyun walks by, arm in arm with Kim Kibum, matching hair, matching smiles and irregular heartbeats. It is prudent, Minho tells himself, that he pretends not to see Jonghyun throw a fleeting, searching glance into his classroom, irregular heartbeat thump, thump, thumping into his ears.
Point four - press in a square (with patience please).
Choi Minho is really tall, and all one hundred and eighty one of his centimeters are leaning against his locker on the opposite end of the hall. There’s really no need to stare because he stands out even when all his weight is on one foot and he’s flanked by two other boys and everyone is wearing the exact same thing.
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” Jonghyun quickly shifts his gaze to whatever it is Kibum has in his hands. Two ‘one free cone’ coupons for Ben and Jerry’s. Kibum smirks at him with a hell fucking yes, ben and jerry’s and a nudge in the ribs.
“Well, I do love ice cream,” Being inconspicuous isn’t one of Jonghyun’s fortes, because he’s gone right back to staring at Choi Minho and Kibum is getting annoyed (earth to Jonghyun), and Minho is staring right back at him, has been staring right back at him for the past five - ten seconds. Just like that time on the bus, he notes, Minho’s eyes seize him by his shoulders and he replies, “I am looking!”
“Oh goodness, you’ve got a crush, haven’t you,” Kibum is standing arms akimbo, head swaying side to side. Whatever shall I do with you, Jonghyun.
Before Jonghyun knows it, there are two ‘one free cone’ coupons pressed into his hand, and the image of a retreating Kibum searing his eyes, his head cocking a you can thank me later.
(They’re not together, are they, Minho thinks a little too loudly to Taemin as he walks toward where he and Jinki are waiting for him, after a brief but seemingly productive exchange with Kim Kibum about something he doesn’t really dare to know or find out about. Taemin gives him an impish grin, as if to say you can thank me later.)
Point five - open and make a v.
There’s no destination in mind today. Minho does this periodically, just takes the bus (always the same one, number 32A) and haves at the bus tickets, sits by himself and he folds, folds. There’s no destination for what he’s doing either, and he can only hope that the paper cuts he sometimes earns are worth, well, something.
Empty seats litter the bus sporadically. Today, like any normal day after school, there are maybe four seats available, and there’s always one next to Minho, because he always takes the bus alone. Perhaps surprise isn’t the right word to use to describe how Minho feels when he sees Jonghyun walking towards him, in a rare spot of being alone.
And there are many seats available, so of course, Jonghyun chooses to sit next to him. “May I sit here?”
“Of course.”
Minho grabs the pile of bus tickets in his lap and shoves them messily into his bag and pats the cold seat next to him, somewhat expectant and (okay, he’ll admit it) a little smitten. Intensity tugs at his expectancy when Jonghyun pulls out two ‘one free cone’ coupons.
“You don’t know me, (I’m Jonghyun, by the way), but I was wondering if you’d like to take a trip to the city with me, this Saturday?”
“Minho,” and they’re staring again, because before these words were exchanged that’s all they’ve learnt to do with each other, and surprise just doesn’t quite cut it. “And I do love ice cream.”
Point six - slouch the shoulders.
Chunky Monkey.
Jonghyun stares at the tiny pen mark written in a childish scrawl along the edge of his desk. That wasn’t there yesterday.
“Kibum, did you do this?”
“Does it look like my handwriting, Jonghyun?” and, well, that obviously answers it. Another instance in which Jonghyun wishes very hard that he wouldn’t notice little, insignificant things like this. Like vandalism (a mere two words at that) on a school desk. Completely normal and most definitely chock full of meaning.
“I know how stuff like this bugs you,” Kibum is watching him stare at the table with a creased brow. “I do know who did it.”
“Who?”
“Lee Taemin.”
Jonghyun hasn’t got a clue who that is. How fitting, because right now Kibum is shaking his head and haven’t you seen our dance troupe? He’s the fucking star and he’s sort of cute.
“Why would he write this on my table, of all tables?”
It’s a statement that gets Kibum bent over his own desk in stifled, side-clutching laughter (because they are still in class), and Jonghyun remains confused. “Man, you are so stupid.”
Jonghyun is mildly annoyed at Kibum and smacks him upside the head to shut him up, but somewhere in the back of his mind something tells him that chunky monkey probably has a lot to do with (he scratches his head) - something important, and perhaps he really is a little stupid.
Point seven - tiny triangles at each corner.
Minho glances for the third time at his watch. He’s always been meticulous about time, about being on time, so he’s a little worried because he’s two minutes and forty-three seconds too early. Should he come back again?
“Minho-sshi,” Jonghyun comes up behind him, and his hair is windswept from just getting off the bus. They’re in front of the only ben and jerry’s for miles, and they’re both wearing blue tee shirts. “We match.”
A greeting bell jingles as Jonghyun pushes the door open and pulls Minho in after him by the arm, and of course, Minho doesn’t protest. He feels kind of stupid, smiling so much, now sitting across a grinning Jonghyun who asks him how the rest of his week went. It takes him a few moments to realise that he’s supposed to answer. “It was fine. And yours?”
“Fine,” Jonghyun bites back another big grin. The two coupons hang limply in his hands as he pulls them out of his wallet and stands up. Minho is slightly surprised and makes to stand up too, but Jonghyun shakes his head and laughs, touching his shoulder lightly, and for a second too long to be considered just friendly, before making his way to the counter.
He comes back with two cones in his hands, both the same flavour.
There is a tiny moment of silence as Jonghyun grips his own cone, not eating, watching Minho take a shy, hearty bite out of his. “How did you know Chunky Monkey was my favourite?” Jonghyun looks down and breathes something that sounds strikingly similar to a sigh of relief.
“I suppose I just gained some common sense.”
Minho has no idea what he’s on about, but decides that it doesn’t matter, because he’s never seen Jonghyun, or anyone really, smile this bright every time he makes a small, appreciative noise as he crunches into a walnut.
Perhaps it isn’t the smartest idea to smear a little chunky monkey on his own nose when he sees that Jonghyun’s got some of his, but hey, we match.
Point eight - and inner corners go up.
Minho hadn’t been expecting a call this fast, but it doesn’t make him any less excited. Jonghyun is calling him just twenty minutes after they left the ice cream parlour, when he’s on the bus sitting alone, bus tickets in his lap as per usual. “Hey there.”
“Hey, Jonghyun,” Minho’s hands work extra hard today, and they’re fold, fold, folding slightly quicker, but no less precisely. When he’s done with one, he places it carefully into a pouch and picks up the next one, starting again. “I’ve got a surprise for you tomorrow.”
“You do?” Jonghyun sounds off beat, caught off guard. It seems to Minho that he thinks that he’s supposed to be the one pulling out all the stops, and it’s endearing, really.
“Yea.”
For a second, Minho regrets cluing Jonghyun in on his surprise, because he’s leaving silence to crackle on the other line, but then he crackles an audible smile.
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Jonghyun is smiling very hard on the other line, and Minho has to pay very close attention to his tickets so that they don’t slip out of his lap when he hears something like the smacking of lips just before Jonghyun hangs up the phone.
Point nine - outer corners up, too.
Kibum is standing with Taemin against his locker, and they’re both watching Jinki as Jinki is so intently staring at his watch. “Don’t be so nervous, Jinki.”
“Yea, Hyung. It’s not even your surprise,” and Jinki frowns slightly at Taemin’s snarky remark, but the bug of edginess begins to creep up on all of them as they watch Jonghyun’s lonely figure walking toward his locker, unsuspecting and slightly dejected. It’s not unexpected for Jonghyun to be slightly disappointed because school is out, and so far, Minho has had nothing to show for it.
“Looks like Jonghyun was really expecting something,” Kibum slings an arm around Taemin and they continue to watch, expectant. Minho comes up behind them, letting out a sigh. “He didn’t see me, did he?”
“Of course not. He looks like a kicked puppy,” and with that, Minho feels and looks a little worried, but Taemin pats him on the shoulder, seeing as Jinki’s far too excited to do any comforting. “It’ll just make the end result even more worth all your effort.”
Minho nods, and waits.
And point ten - flip it over.
Jonghyun walks slowly to his locker, his head a little heavy, soft chiding running through his ears for expecting too much. Maybe he forgot, it really isn’t a big deal.
Another time where Jonghyun is a little too observant than he deserves. There is a pen mark along the edge of his locker door (only not as messy as chunky monkey, and full of warmth this time), and it says “Thank you, Jonghyun. Your gift is inside.”
His head whirls as he punches in the combination to his lock and pulls the locker door open.
And perhaps surprise isn’t the right word to describe how Jonghyun feels as he watches fifty, five hundred, five thousand folded bus tickets in the shape of hearts flutter all about his feet and onto the floor. Minho comes up behind him and taps him on the shoulder. “Surprise,” he’s smiling now, and even the few moments that Minho allows aren’t enough for Jonghyun to realise that he’s supposed to answer.
The five thousand tiny hearts stare at him from their position around his ankles, perfect, uniform, all reflective of the boy standing in front of him (and there are hardly enough words that Jonghyun knows to describe that), and all he can really do is stare back, partly because that’s all he’s really learnt to do-
-but mostly because surprise just doesn’t quite cut it.
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PG13; SHINee-Jongho; Romance; fatdix
2688 words
Jonghyun's too observant.
A/N I started out really liking what I was writing, but as the story wore on, I felt like I was falling into old habits. :( Written because I love Jongho, and I need to pay more attention to it. Ninja!Taekey. I apologise for the incessant mentioning of the bus tickets. I feel like they've become a pet in this fic.
Nine Point (Ten if You Count Flipping Over)
Point one - you fold in half.
Jonghyun doesn’t peg himself to be an observant person, especially without a reason for him to be. And during the event that he has seen something, he often takes far too much of it into deliberation. There is always a pile of bus tickets in the open-mouthed chute at the front of the bus, but there aren’t any in it today. Vaguely, he wonders where they’ve gone, but later decides that the crease in his shirt is of far greater importance than a few absconded bus tickets.
Day two and the tickets are missing again, and this time it gets to him (which is why, he tells himself, he tries not to observe things, because they get to him). “Where do you suppose the bus tickets have gone, Kibum?”
“Why, does it matter?”
And for some reason, Jonghyun thinks that it matters a great deal, but he keeps a lid on it, “I guess not,” because Kibum has a relatively short fuse (he just isn’t one to care for petty nuances of change in scenery). So he asks him whatever else he can think of to keep the conversation light. “How’d you do on the math test today?”
“Oh, it was a breeze, really. Thank goodness we studied last night.”
“I thought so too,” Jonghyun rests his head on Kibum’s shoulder, and Kibum pushes him off, laughing and ew dandruff, Jonghyun.
It doesn’t seem to matter, either way, whether the content of his conversation with Kibum remains about school work or did you check out the hooters on that hot new teacher (even though they both know they’re not interested like that), or the way the sun pigments their skin in patches through the open bus windows. Jonghyun can’t seem to get his mind off the stupid bus tickets.
Point two - and back down on itself (on both sides).
Figures. The one day Kibum isn’t with him on the bus, there are no seats. Jonghyun decides to head to the rear like a good boy and think about the bus tickets, trying at the same time not to fall when the bus drives over potholes. Muttering to himself is probably not the sanest of ideas, but Jonghyun can’t help it, “stop thinking about them, Jesus. You are going to kill yourself.” The boy seated in front of him looks up briefly, and then goes back to doing whatever he was doing.
Then he sees them - a big pile of the blasted bus tickets haphazardly thrown into his lap. This tall, gangly, wide-eyed boy who stares at his stash of tickets in what can only be described as terribly intense concentration. Jonghyun guesses at maybe three days worth of bus tickets there in his possession, and his mind heaves a sigh, “there, you got your answer. Happy now?”
He - Minho - picks up one of the clean rectangles and starts to fold it. Fold, fold, but Jonghyun isn’t really watching his hands anymore, because his eyes (even though Jonghyun can’t really see them that clearly, not when they’re down cast), reach out to him with spectral arms, grasping the sides of his head, screaming my eyes are up here.
“How could I miss them? They’re like stars.”
“What?” Minho looks at him, confused. It’s embarrassing, and it’s barely registered in his mind that he’s even spoken out loud. He clears his throat of his embarrassment and tries to look away, but goes straight back to staring when he is pretty sure that Minho isn’t looking.
But Minho never stops looking out of the corner of his eye, because as interesting as folding his tickets is, this person - Jonghyun - is extraordinarily compelling in his own right. Minho gets the brunt of his profile (since he’s hell bent on pretending he’s not looking too), and he decides that it’s the best thing he’s seen all day, never mind the strange muttering.
“You’ll make yourself look crazy,” he’s looking away, but Minho can see his lips moving.
Yea, never mind.
Point three - then make an open book.
“Kim Jonghyun?” Minho barely registers Taemin’s italicised surprise or Jinki’s jaw dropping because, “yea, so?”
“You can’t like Kim Jonghyun.”
“Why not? And I don’t think it’s fair to say that I like him already.”
“He’s joint at the hip with that Kibum kid, you know,” and Taemin has a rather valid point, which is further reinforced by Jinki’s too vigorous nodding. “They’re practically married.”
“Only, they’re not together.”
Taemin narrows his eyes at Minho, uncertain. “And you know that because?” Minho has to hand it to him, Taemin never misses a beat.
“I don’t know,” Minho has to laugh at himself for being so completely sure of something that really has no basis in fact. He really doesn’t (know, that is). Unsurprisingly, Taemin is already clucking his tongue and telling Jinki to get ready for long three way phone calls at night about ‘why doesn’t he like me’.
“I can sort of read him,” and just as he ends the last syllable, Kim Jonghyun walks by, arm in arm with Kim Kibum, matching hair, matching smiles and irregular heartbeats. It is prudent, Minho tells himself, that he pretends not to see Jonghyun throw a fleeting, searching glance into his classroom, irregular heartbeat thump, thump, thumping into his ears.
Point four - press in a square (with patience please).
Choi Minho is really tall, and all one hundred and eighty one of his centimeters are leaning against his locker on the opposite end of the hall. There’s really no need to stare because he stands out even when all his weight is on one foot and he’s flanked by two other boys and everyone is wearing the exact same thing.
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” Jonghyun quickly shifts his gaze to whatever it is Kibum has in his hands. Two ‘one free cone’ coupons for Ben and Jerry’s. Kibum smirks at him with a hell fucking yes, ben and jerry’s and a nudge in the ribs.
“Well, I do love ice cream,” Being inconspicuous isn’t one of Jonghyun’s fortes, because he’s gone right back to staring at Choi Minho and Kibum is getting annoyed (earth to Jonghyun), and Minho is staring right back at him, has been staring right back at him for the past five - ten seconds. Just like that time on the bus, he notes, Minho’s eyes seize him by his shoulders and he replies, “I am looking!”
“Oh goodness, you’ve got a crush, haven’t you,” Kibum is standing arms akimbo, head swaying side to side. Whatever shall I do with you, Jonghyun.
Before Jonghyun knows it, there are two ‘one free cone’ coupons pressed into his hand, and the image of a retreating Kibum searing his eyes, his head cocking a you can thank me later.
(They’re not together, are they, Minho thinks a little too loudly to Taemin as he walks toward where he and Jinki are waiting for him, after a brief but seemingly productive exchange with Kim Kibum about something he doesn’t really dare to know or find out about. Taemin gives him an impish grin, as if to say you can thank me later.)
Point five - open and make a v.
There’s no destination in mind today. Minho does this periodically, just takes the bus (always the same one, number 32A) and haves at the bus tickets, sits by himself and he folds, folds. There’s no destination for what he’s doing either, and he can only hope that the paper cuts he sometimes earns are worth, well, something.
Empty seats litter the bus sporadically. Today, like any normal day after school, there are maybe four seats available, and there’s always one next to Minho, because he always takes the bus alone. Perhaps surprise isn’t the right word to use to describe how Minho feels when he sees Jonghyun walking towards him, in a rare spot of being alone.
And there are many seats available, so of course, Jonghyun chooses to sit next to him. “May I sit here?”
“Of course.”
Minho grabs the pile of bus tickets in his lap and shoves them messily into his bag and pats the cold seat next to him, somewhat expectant and (okay, he’ll admit it) a little smitten. Intensity tugs at his expectancy when Jonghyun pulls out two ‘one free cone’ coupons.
“You don’t know me, (I’m Jonghyun, by the way), but I was wondering if you’d like to take a trip to the city with me, this Saturday?”
“Minho,” and they’re staring again, because before these words were exchanged that’s all they’ve learnt to do with each other, and surprise just doesn’t quite cut it. “And I do love ice cream.”
Point six - slouch the shoulders.
Chunky Monkey.
Jonghyun stares at the tiny pen mark written in a childish scrawl along the edge of his desk. That wasn’t there yesterday.
“Kibum, did you do this?”
“Does it look like my handwriting, Jonghyun?” and, well, that obviously answers it. Another instance in which Jonghyun wishes very hard that he wouldn’t notice little, insignificant things like this. Like vandalism (a mere two words at that) on a school desk. Completely normal and most definitely chock full of meaning.
“I know how stuff like this bugs you,” Kibum is watching him stare at the table with a creased brow. “I do know who did it.”
“Who?”
“Lee Taemin.”
Jonghyun hasn’t got a clue who that is. How fitting, because right now Kibum is shaking his head and haven’t you seen our dance troupe? He’s the fucking star and he’s sort of cute.
“Why would he write this on my table, of all tables?”
It’s a statement that gets Kibum bent over his own desk in stifled, side-clutching laughter (because they are still in class), and Jonghyun remains confused. “Man, you are so stupid.”
Jonghyun is mildly annoyed at Kibum and smacks him upside the head to shut him up, but somewhere in the back of his mind something tells him that chunky monkey probably has a lot to do with (he scratches his head) - something important, and perhaps he really is a little stupid.
Point seven - tiny triangles at each corner.
Minho glances for the third time at his watch. He’s always been meticulous about time, about being on time, so he’s a little worried because he’s two minutes and forty-three seconds too early. Should he come back again?
“Minho-sshi,” Jonghyun comes up behind him, and his hair is windswept from just getting off the bus. They’re in front of the only ben and jerry’s for miles, and they’re both wearing blue tee shirts. “We match.”
A greeting bell jingles as Jonghyun pushes the door open and pulls Minho in after him by the arm, and of course, Minho doesn’t protest. He feels kind of stupid, smiling so much, now sitting across a grinning Jonghyun who asks him how the rest of his week went. It takes him a few moments to realise that he’s supposed to answer. “It was fine. And yours?”
“Fine,” Jonghyun bites back another big grin. The two coupons hang limply in his hands as he pulls them out of his wallet and stands up. Minho is slightly surprised and makes to stand up too, but Jonghyun shakes his head and laughs, touching his shoulder lightly, and for a second too long to be considered just friendly, before making his way to the counter.
He comes back with two cones in his hands, both the same flavour.
There is a tiny moment of silence as Jonghyun grips his own cone, not eating, watching Minho take a shy, hearty bite out of his. “How did you know Chunky Monkey was my favourite?” Jonghyun looks down and breathes something that sounds strikingly similar to a sigh of relief.
“I suppose I just gained some common sense.”
Minho has no idea what he’s on about, but decides that it doesn’t matter, because he’s never seen Jonghyun, or anyone really, smile this bright every time he makes a small, appreciative noise as he crunches into a walnut.
Perhaps it isn’t the smartest idea to smear a little chunky monkey on his own nose when he sees that Jonghyun’s got some of his, but hey, we match.
Point eight - and inner corners go up.
Minho hadn’t been expecting a call this fast, but it doesn’t make him any less excited. Jonghyun is calling him just twenty minutes after they left the ice cream parlour, when he’s on the bus sitting alone, bus tickets in his lap as per usual. “Hey there.”
“Hey, Jonghyun,” Minho’s hands work extra hard today, and they’re fold, fold, folding slightly quicker, but no less precisely. When he’s done with one, he places it carefully into a pouch and picks up the next one, starting again. “I’ve got a surprise for you tomorrow.”
“You do?” Jonghyun sounds off beat, caught off guard. It seems to Minho that he thinks that he’s supposed to be the one pulling out all the stops, and it’s endearing, really.
“Yea.”
For a second, Minho regrets cluing Jonghyun in on his surprise, because he’s leaving silence to crackle on the other line, but then he crackles an audible smile.
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Jonghyun is smiling very hard on the other line, and Minho has to pay very close attention to his tickets so that they don’t slip out of his lap when he hears something like the smacking of lips just before Jonghyun hangs up the phone.
Point nine - outer corners up, too.
Kibum is standing with Taemin against his locker, and they’re both watching Jinki as Jinki is so intently staring at his watch. “Don’t be so nervous, Jinki.”
“Yea, Hyung. It’s not even your surprise,” and Jinki frowns slightly at Taemin’s snarky remark, but the bug of edginess begins to creep up on all of them as they watch Jonghyun’s lonely figure walking toward his locker, unsuspecting and slightly dejected. It’s not unexpected for Jonghyun to be slightly disappointed because school is out, and so far, Minho has had nothing to show for it.
“Looks like Jonghyun was really expecting something,” Kibum slings an arm around Taemin and they continue to watch, expectant. Minho comes up behind them, letting out a sigh. “He didn’t see me, did he?”
“Of course not. He looks like a kicked puppy,” and with that, Minho feels and looks a little worried, but Taemin pats him on the shoulder, seeing as Jinki’s far too excited to do any comforting. “It’ll just make the end result even more worth all your effort.”
Minho nods, and waits.
And point ten - flip it over.
Jonghyun walks slowly to his locker, his head a little heavy, soft chiding running through his ears for expecting too much. Maybe he forgot, it really isn’t a big deal.
Another time where Jonghyun is a little too observant than he deserves. There is a pen mark along the edge of his locker door (only not as messy as chunky monkey, and full of warmth this time), and it says “Thank you, Jonghyun. Your gift is inside.”
His head whirls as he punches in the combination to his lock and pulls the locker door open.
And perhaps surprise isn’t the right word to describe how Jonghyun feels as he watches fifty, five hundred, five thousand folded bus tickets in the shape of hearts flutter all about his feet and onto the floor. Minho comes up behind him and taps him on the shoulder. “Surprise,” he’s smiling now, and even the few moments that Minho allows aren’t enough for Jonghyun to realise that he’s supposed to answer.
The five thousand tiny hearts stare at him from their position around his ankles, perfect, uniform, all reflective of the boy standing in front of him (and there are hardly enough words that Jonghyun knows to describe that), and all he can really do is stare back, partly because that’s all he’s really learnt to do-
-but mostly because surprise just doesn’t quite cut it.
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