Translation Error
Pairing: Lay/Chen
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jongdae has always been needy, but never been needed. Yixing, who hails from a totally different world, helps Jongdae see his own in a new light.
Warning: Xenophilia
Notes: so this was based off a request from someone (i'm sorry i forgot your username!) and you basically wanted sexual relations between foreigners teaching each other naughty bits in their language. this is actually nothing like that and i'm sorry to disappoint. also this was going to have a smut scene but it came out really weird and disjointed so i scrapped it lol c ya
translation error;
Situations like this don’t happen in real life. Manga, yeah. Anime, definitely. Long, drawn-out yawn-inducing movies like the Notebook: indubitably.
But in Jongdae’s day-to-day life? No. No-hoooo-siree-bob is this normal at all.
The man sitting on the stoop of Jongdae’s apartment complex is absolutely soaked, without an umbrella in this torrential rain pour. His clothes have no shape, and Jongdae can’t even tell specifically what he’s wearing at all, the man is so drowned. And the look on his face… it’s totally pathetic, and Jongdae, despite his cold playboy heart, is softened. Just a bit.
But-- is this even real?
“Um…” Jongdae starts, shifting a little and then holding his umbrella out to stop the rain from drenching the stranger.
As if he hadn’t realized Jongdae was there in the first place, the man blinks when the rain overhead is blocked and he looks up with surprised, sleepy, sad eyes.
“What are you doing out in the rain like this?” Jongdae asks.
The man tilts his head and blinks slowly, before shaking his head.
Frowning a little, Jongdae scratches his cheek with his finger. “I mean.. um, are you locked out of your apartment?”
More silence from the man, his lack of answer only deafening because the rain starts to pound even harder and Jongdae is pretty sure that even if he were given a response, it’d be lost in the downpour. Thunder claps and Jongdae jolts a little, before pulling out his keys and moving past the man seated on the steps. He hurries to punch in the password on the keypad for the main entrance, before turning back to look at the stranger while he holds the door open.
“Come on.”
The man seems as though he doesn’t understand, but he gets up and slowly follows Jongdae into the foyer of the building. Now that they’re inside Jongdae closes his umbrella after he shuts the door, shaking out his parasol lightly before dumping it into the umbrella bin to join its counterparts. He ruffles his slightly damp hair and lets out a sigh, before he smiles at the stranger. Without the rain and the gloom, Jongdae can finally see the man’s face. Although, he doesn’t recognize him... that’s not really surprising; it’s not like Jongdae is necessarily chummy with his neighbors.
“Well--! Have a good night,” Jongdae bids, before inclining his head in a polite bow. He turns to make his way to the stairs, but a tug on his coat sleeve has him stopping. Turning around, he arches a brow at the man who now looks… incredibly lost, and even a bit scared. “Uh--” Jongdae chuckles lightly. “You don’t live here, huh?”
Still, the man doesn’t communicate. His brows are wrinkled only slightly, and his expression doesn’t really give away his trepidation… but the glimmer in his eyes does.
“Do you speak Korean?” Jongdae asks, his own head tilting in reply.
The man seems to register at least part of that sentence, and he shakes his head. He doesn’t look like he’s about to cry… but he does look like a lost puppy.
“Um… then,” Jongdae examines the man’s features. “Nihongo?” he tries. A long shot. Anime has taught him well, though, he’d like to think.
The man shakes his head, then manages to say “Chinese”, in perfectly accented Mandarin.
Ah, of course. The one language Jongdae had decided he didn’t need to pay attention to. ‘One day your ineptitude will bite you in the ass!’, his tutor had always said. Well. Here we are. His ass stings.
Smiling softly, Jongdae shakes the man’s fingers from his sleeve and then gestures for him to follow. The man smiles softly, one of his cheeks indenting with the slightest dimple, and Jongdae finds himself smiling wider. He’s kinda cute, for a drowned foreign puppy.
Up three flights and a few doors down, Jongdae unlocks his apartment and allows the stranger inside. He takes off his shoes and the stranger is courteous in that he follows the gesture -- but then he takes it a step further, starting to strip off his clothes. Coat? Fine. Jongdae can toss it in the wash, but…
“H-Hey!” Jongdae finds himself panicking a little as the man pulls off his sopping shirt, and then starts on the buttons of his pants without missing a beat.
The man gives Jongdae a rather complacent stare, one that obviously says ‘I’ll catch a cold if I keep these clothes on’, and Jongdae covers his eyes and muffles a sigh. This man seems very simple… and Jongdae won’t discriminate, just because he’s a foreigner, but-- man.
“Hold on a sec,” Jongdae says, raising one finger in the air. The man stares at his hand, and then nods in understanding. Quickly, Jongdae moves into his apartment and to the bedroom, grabbing a tshirt, sweats, and his coziest socks, before placing them all on the counter in the bathroom.
He returns to the entryway and is a bit alarmed to find the man standing in only his underwear, soaked clothing wadded up in his arms. Letting out a strained laugh, Jongdae takes the man’s clothes from him and quickly makes his way through the kitchen to his laundry room, where he starts a load. Once that is taken care of he returns to the entryway and grabs the man’s wrist, leading him through the apartment.
Normally Jongdae isn’t this easily rattled, but… something about this language barrier has him on edge. And the way the guy just stripped! Right there! In the bathroom Jongdae offers a tense smile and gestures to the shower, before he catches sight of what the man has in his hand.
A cell phone.
Thank God.
“I can charge that while you shower,” he says, pointing to the phone.
The man goes on the defensive since the first time he and Jongdae have come into contact, his wet fingers holding the phone tightly to his chest. He’s got goosebumps, and Jongdae tries his best not to stare at the pebbled, dusky nipples.
“Ah,” Jongdae’s tone turns a bit soothing as he rubs the back of his neck. “Charge?” he tries, in English, gesturing towards the phone again.
The man frowns, looking down at his phone, and then at Jongdae’s hand. “Charge…?” he repeats, in accented English. His voice is so soft, unsure.
“Charge,” Jongdae repeats with a smile, and then tries his best to mime plugging in a USB to the phone.
The other seems to get it and then offers a shy smile, handing his phone over. He says something, and it doesn’t really sound like Chinese, but Jongdae understands it as ‘thank you’ anyway. Smiling, he waves before backing out of the bathroom, turning on the fan and shutting the door. Now out of sight from the stranger, Jongdae sighs and stares down at the device. Totally dead. He grabs his own charger from the bedroom and moves to the living room, sitting down on the couch and plugging everything in to the wall, before he tilts the phone this way and that, looking for the charging port.
“Huh?” his confusion voices itself, brows knit as he looks over the edges of the phone. No holes. For anything. No headphone jack, no charging port, no volume buttons…? Carefully, he tries to get his nails into the sides of the device to see if he can pop the back off of it, but to no avail. Shit man, how is he supposed to charge this thing? Is it even a phone?
Pulling out his own phone he hits up Google, trying to figure out what kind of device it is. On second thought, after about three minutes of searching the net, the thought strikes him that maybe… the most concerning thing, is that a foreigner is lost and is currently inside his apartment. He should check the news to see if he has found someone who went missing.
Another five minutes, and Jongdae has come up with zilch. No missing people, no information on this weird device. Scratching his head, he leans back against the couch, the device on his coffee table and his own phone resting idly in his hand.
The door to the bathroom opens, a billow of steam accompanied by the scent of Jongdae’s shampoo. Sitting up and turning a bit, Jongdae tosses a smile over the back of the couch in the direction of the stranger. The man is a bit taller than Jongdae, and much more slender -- the borrowed clothes are baggy in some places, but fit alright for the most part.
“Come here,” Jongdae says, waving his hand in a come hither motion. The man understands and makes his way over to the couch, towel draped around his shoulders as he pats his hair dry. As the man sits, Jongdae picks up his device, “No charge?”
The man blinks owlishly, before tilting his head. “No… charge…?” he repeats.
Jongdae tries to think about how to convey it, and then is struck with an idea. He picks up his phone, as well as the charging cord, and demonstrates where it plugs in. His phone lights up, a little lightning bolt on the screen. “Charge.”
The man nods in understanding, eyeing Jongdae’s phone curiously.
Jongdae then picks up the man’s device, rotating it around. He unplugs his phone, then holds up the end of the cord to it, showing that there’s nowhere to put it in. “No charge.”
It takes a few seconds of silence for it to sink in, and then the man gasps. “No charge!?” he seems alarmed, and he stands up, taking his phone out of Jongdae’s hands. He starts babbling, voice panicked, but Jongdae is pretty sure that is not Chinese. The man looks Chinese. Affirmed that he spoke Chinese. But what on Earth is he speaking now?
“Hey, hey,” Jongdae stands up, catching the man by his shoulders and stopping his pacing. He offers a small, reassuring smile. “It’s ok.”
“Ok?” the man repeats, voice wavering, his eyes shining with what look like tears. His shoulders are rounded, but sturdy underneath Jongdae’s palms.
Jongdae nods. “Ok. Good.” he smiles and gives a thumbs up, gently takes the man’s phone from him. “We’ll get it figured out I’m sure.”
The man looks at Jongdae helplessly, and then Jongdae guides him to sit down once again. Well, if the man can’t charge his device, he likely doesn’t have any way to contact anyone he knows… Jongdae picks up his phone, holding it out to the other.
Cautiously, the man takes Jongdae’s phone. He stares at it, and then waves his hand over the screen -- when nothing happens, his cheeks puff a bit indignantly, and he waves his hand over the screen again. He tries a few more times, and Jongdae finally takes pity on him, reaching out to show him the button to unlock the phone, and how to swipe his finger along the arrow on the screen. When his phone unlocks, the man stares at it in wonder.
Strange.
“Uh,” Jongdae reaches and presses the little phone icon, and when the dial screen pops up, he smiles. “Do you know the number you need to call?” International calls will rack up on his bill, but Jongdae figures that he hasn’t done any Good Samaritan work lately. He can sacrifice one hefty bill for a good round of karma.
The man’s features light up, and it’s the first time Jongdae sees the man get excited. It’s… stunning. Jongdae momentarily forgets to breathe, as the man starts to tap his fingers over the screen. The way his eyes seem to change from chocolate brown to a light amber, how his wet hair curls a bit over his forehead...
Wow.
Catching himself, Jongdae looks down at the number the man is typing. Only, the man is typing… an abnormal amount of numbers, at an incredible speed with his index and pointer finger. He types and types and types but doesn’t hit ‘call’ and Jongdae is incredibly confused. After a few seconds the man pauses, looking at the phone expectantly -- and then he lifts his gaze up directly in front of him, like he expects to see something. Jongdae looks, too, mostly out of sheer curiosity… but when nothing happens, the stranger lets out a defeated groan, pushing the phone back into Jongdae’s hands.
“Guess you don’t know the number,” Jongdae makes the joke even though he’s the only one that gets it.
The stranger slumps back against the couch and ah, his pout is cute.
Er, well--
“It’s ok,” Jongdae says, reaching over to put his hand on the man’s shoulder, once again being reassuring and polite.
“Ok…” the man repeats, his gaze sliding over to Jongdae. “Ok…” he lifts up a hand, pointing his thumb up. “Good?”
Jongdae blinks. Baby steps. But he feels like he’s broken through a bit of a barrier and he lets out a relieved sigh, smiling and nodding. “Ok. Good. It will be ok.”
The man looks down at his thumb, and then raises it higher, pressing it against his sternum. “Yixing.”
Jongdae blinks. “Yixing?”
“Yixing. Ok.” the man says, and then points his finger at Jongdae. “Ok…?”
Oh. Yixing. A Chinese name. “Ah,” Jongdae lets out a little laugh, and then points to himself. “Jongdae.”
“Jong...dae…” the man, presumably Yixing, repeats. He then offers a small smile, “Jongdae, good.”
That in itself is probably the best compliment Jongdae has ever gotten, even if Yixing doesn’t really know what it means quite yet. For all the assholery that Jongdae has put people through over the past few years… it’s really nice to have someone looking at him with some sort of favor in their eyes.
And with Yixing’s smile bringing a bit of sunshine to this rainy day… Jongdae supposes things could be worse.
--
“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Jongin says, examining Yixing’s device so close he’s probably mouth-breathing all over it.
It’s the following morning after Jongdae had brought Yixing into his apartment. Yixing had slept on the couch peacefully and Jongdae had slept in his room fretfully, and the first thing Jongdae did in when he got up was call his tech-geek best friend to try and figure out how to unlock Yixing’s mysterious device.
“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Jongdae grouses over the clamor of making a pot of coffee.
Yixing is still in borrowed clothes, perched on the couch and intently watching the television. He’s enraptured by a children’s show while Jongin and Jongdae converse in the kitchen.
“It’s kinda weird though, isn’t it?” Jongin says, opening up his little toolkit. “I mean-- this cute guy shows up on your doorstep, speaks a weird language, and… I mean,” he spares Yixing a glance. “He’s obviously like, probably older than us but seems so… Innocent?”
Jongdae sighs, sitting down at the table and sliding a mug of fresh coffee over to his friend. His gaze moves to Yixing as well, watching as the man tries to repeat some of the phrases of the show. “It is weird. I don’t know what to do-- I don’t know what I can do. At first he said he was Chinese, then he started ranting in some language that sounds like it comes from a sci-fi film. If I take him to the police, they won’t have much luck figuring out what to do, either.”
Jongin returns to the device, using a tiny flathead screwdriver to try and find a seam. “Maybe he’s an alien.”
Jongdae snorts, “He is an alien. An illegal immigrant.”
Jongin chortles in turn, “But he’s cute.”
“Do you want him?” Jongdae asks, raising a brow at his friend as he sips on his coffee.
Jongin chokes a bit, “Sehun would kill me if I brought home a dude, c’mon man.”
Sighing, but then letting out a little laugh, Jongdae nods. “I know.”
They sit in silence for a few moments, Jongin concentrating on trying to crack open the device, Jongdae staring into his coffee. They’re interrupted by a chair scraping across the floor, and then Yixing is joining them at the table, warm smile and eyes soft.
“Ok?” Yixing asks Jongin.
Jongin shakes his head, “No. How do you open this thing?”
“Open?” Yixing’s head tilts, and Jongdae sighs softly. “No open.”
Jongdae blinks over at Yixing, “You’re learning quickly.”
Yixing blinks back peacefully.
“You mean your device doesn’t open?” Jongdae asks, pointing at the white block of plastic in Jongin’s hands.
Yixing smiles brightly and nods, “No open!”
Jongdae slouches until his forehead hits the table, and Jongin groans in defeat. “How are we supposed to turn it on?”
The reaction of the two men has Yixing blinking curiously and then frowning a bit. “No good?”
Running a hand through his already ruffled hair, Jongdae shakes his head. “No good. No open, no charge.”
Yixing shakes his head, leaning forward and taking the device out of Jongin’s fingers with his own, delicate and slender ones. He flips the device over and points to a little symbol on the back, looking at Jongin -- he’s surmised that Jongin is the smarter of the two when it comes to technology, and Jongdae can’t be offended by that.
“Charge.”
Jongin blinks down at the little symbol. It sort of looks like a cross between the AT&T symbol and the planet Saturn, but it’s just a tiny little engraving etched into the casing of the device. “Charge here?” he asks, finger tapping the spot.
Yixing smiles triumphantly, “Charge, here!”
Jongdae sighs, putting his elbow on the table and resting his cheek heavily in his hand as he regards Yixing. “Yixing, how?” The engraving isn’t a hole or a port of any sort. How does it charge the device?
“Wait…” Jongin brings the device back to where he had it on the table, looking at the engraving. “I think I get what he’s saying. You know how you can put things on a dock to charge them, without actually inserting a USB into a port?”
Jongdae blinks. “Well-- I’ve never really thought about it I guess.”
“Sehun has a mechanical face washing brush,” Jongin continues, looking up at Jongdae. “You can either charge it by USB, or you can put it in its cradle and it charges magnetically without anything being inserted. Wireless charging.”
“Huh,” Jongdae looks down at the device. “I guess that makes sense…”
Jongin grabs his own phone, typing something into the search bar. Yixing looks rather pleased, sensing in their tone of voice that they’ve made a breakthrough. Honestly, Jongdae thinks, if Yixing knows how to charge it why didn’t he try telling them?
“Weird,” Jongin comments. “I searched for devices that use the magnetic charging and not a lot came up. The face washing brush and a new model of phone coming out, but that phone doesn’t look anything like this device.”
“Shouldn’t we just be able to go get one of the wireless chargers and hook it up to his phone?” Jongdae suggests.
“It’s worth a shot,” Jongin shrugs, before turning to smile at Yixing. “I think we understand now.”
Yixing perks, “Good?”
Jongdae laughs a bit. “Good.”
“What are you gonna do, man?” Jongin asks, returning his attention back to Jongdae.
Jongdae takes a sip of his coffee, “What do you mean?”
“Well, you have a foreigner in your apartment that clearly can’t go anywhere or do anything while he’s here…” Jongin says, handing the device back to Yixing. Yixing hugs it to his chest and coos happily.
“Mmm,” Jongdae shrugs. “I guess I’ll use my paid time off from work and cash it in now for a staycation.”
“You’re really calm about this,” Jongin observes, sending Jongdae a suspicious glance. “Like, Yixing is really cute. You’d be all over him if this were any other situation.”
Jongdae grins, “But this isn’t another situation, therefore I’m not all over him. Besides, you said it yourself: he seems so… innocent. And he is cute, but he’s lost, and I don’t want to scare him any more than he already is.”
Jongin’s gaze slides back to Yixing. “That’s… really nice of you, Jongdae.”
Jongdae blinks, Jongin’s comment catching him off-guard. Ok, yes, Jongdae knows he can be a handful and a snarky, sarcastic bastard 95% of the time, but to hear his best friend be genuinely surprised by his actions… It’s both offensive, and a compliment. The two emotions swirl uncomfortably in Jongdae’s gut before he mumbles a ‘yeah, sure’.
“Anyway, I gotta go.” Jongin packs up his little tools and gadgets, carefully putting them back into their case and then sliding the case into his back pocket as he stands. “If you need help babysitting call me, ok?”
Jongdae snorts a bit. “Whatever, Sehun would have your nuts.”
“I think Sehun would like Yixing,” Jongin laughs a bit, before waving to Jongdae, and then to Yixing.
Yixing waves back in a friendly, serene manner, and when Jongin exits the apartment and Jongdae and Yixing are left alone at the table, Jongdae lets out a soft sigh. It’s Sunday morning and he’s not scheduled for work today, but he should call his boss and put in his request for time off. This whole situation is still pretty surreal; Jongdae doesn’t normally open his house up to strangers. Well, one-night stands, sure-- but he kicks them out before morning.
Yixing is different. And not just because he’s foreign… Something else about him that Jongdae can’t quite put his finger on, is making Jongdae feel a bit on edge.
--
Monday morning has Jongdae lazily getting ready for his only class. He figures he can ask his professors to send him work via e-mail so he can do it from home, while he tries to take care of Yixing. Yixing watches as Jongdae wanders around the house, another children’s show playing quietly on the television.
Yixing is back in his original clothes and now that they’re washed and dried, Jongdae can appreciate the man a bit more. He wears a black scoop-neck tshirt with charcoal grey skinny jeans and a plain black hoodie and looks every bit like your normal, every-day guy. His hair is a bit curly and Jongdae suspects it’s from a perm, light brown in color. Like this, Jongdae can forget that the man is a total stranger from another country and feel more like Yixing is a friend hanging out in his apartment. Yixing’s presence is another thing -- he’s always calm and smiling, and though he gets confused quite often he takes it in stride and does his best to understand.
At first, Jongdae was sure that language was the only barrier. But after thirty-six hours with the man, he’s starting to pick up little quirks and oddities. Like how Yixing did not understand the concept of a microwave at all. When Jongdae had put a cup of coffee into the microwave to reheat, Yixing had yelped and slammed the door shut, pulling Jongdae away and shielding him with his own body. It had been a bit awkward, such a skinny but strong man enveloping Jongdae in his embrace. Especially over a microwave. It took a good five minutes of simplified explanation that Jongdae was merely reheating something so he could enjoy it again, before Yixing finally relented and allowed him to enjoy his coffee (even though Yixing stayed far away from the microwave when it was on, staring at it suspiciously).
On top of that, and possibly even more alarming that Yixing seems astounded by it: food. Cooking and eating altogether. Just this morning when Jondgae had made breakfast, despite Yixing seeing him cook dinner the previous night, the foreigner had hovered over Jongdae’s shoulder, carefully watching everything he did to prepare a simple breakfast of eggs and toast. And when it came to actually eating, Yixing seemed very pleased. He only took a few bites of eggs and a few bites of his toast before he sat back and patted his belly (and as skinny as the guy is, Jongdae just figures his stomach is too shrunk to eat too much), happily saying “Good!” before helping Jongdae do the dishes.
Presently, Jongdae grabs his messenger bag, making sure he has the right book inside along with a pen and a few highlighters. He slings it over his shoulder and then turns to see Yixing watching him intently -- coughing a bit, still unused to the attention, Jongdae waves a hand.
“Come here,” he says.
Yixing still understands very few words: Come here, ok, good, no, food, eat, sleep. His vocabulary is small but he still seems to be getting by just fine. Jongdae admires him. And the fact that Yixing stays so patient even when Jongdae feels like he’s going to blow a fuse… It’s different. Jongdae is afraid that he’ll get used to it.
Yixing meets Jongdae at the door, and Jongdae smiles and points at the man’s shoes while he slips into his own. “Shoes,” he says, and then points to the pair next to his. “Yixing’s shoes.”
“Yixing… shoes,” Yixing repeats, and then smiles and crouches so he can put his shoes on and tie them up properly. He stands straight, and then gives Jongdae a thumbs up, “Good!”
“Good,” Jongdae agrees with a little smile. “Today we’re going to school.”
Yixing tilts his head cutely, and Jongdae hums a little.
“You’ll see when we get there,” he decides, and then opens up the door, leading Yixing out of the apartment for the first time since he brought him in.
The trek to school is… interesting. Yixing is a bit hesitant about riding the bus, and even when they’re in a seat he chooses to take the aisle seat and clutch onto the sleeve of Jongdae’s coat. Every bounce, every shift has Yixing letting out a surprised noise, and Jongdae feels a bit bad… and a bit curious. It’s like Yixing has never been in a vehicle before. Which is odd, because obviously Yixing had to get to Korea somehow.
After teaching Yixing the words ‘bus’, ‘stop’, ‘fast’, and ‘slow’, they make it to Jongdae’s usual stop. He leads Yixing off the bus, the man still clutching onto Jongdae’s coat, and once they’re on the sidewalk Yixing lets out a happy sigh before glaring at the bus as it drives off.
“You don’t like the bus?” Jongdae asks with amusement in his voice.
Yixing looks at Jongdae and he must sense the teasing because he blushes lightly, harrumphing and sticking his nose in the air as he folds his arms over his chest.
Laughing, Jongdae takes Yixing’s elbow and leads him along the sidewalk in the direction of his university. Yixing eventually relaxes as they walk, his gaze on swivel as he looks at everything around them. Occasionally he stops -- at a flower stand to inhale the fresh scent, in front of a bakery to stare in awe at the desserts in the window, and even in front of a clothing store, reaching out to hesitantly poke a mannequin. It’s so naive and pure and Jongdae starts to suspect that Yixing isn’t just any foreigner.
Of course, crazy scenarios flit through his head. Is Yixing from some undeveloped city? The way he acts says yes, but other things say no, namely: his strange electronic device and the way he dresses. Those two things are very modern and normal for society… but Yixing just doesn’t seem to fit.
And for some reason, Jongdae… sort of likes it that way. Yixing is so out of left field that it’s refreshing. Jongdae had been pretty caught up in the humdrum of work and school and skirt chasing -- Yixing has thrown a surprisingly delightful wrench into Jongdae’s life.
They pass by an electronics store and Yixing pauses, looking inside. Jongdae slows down, waiting for Yixing to catch up, but when the man stays where he is, gaze on something in the window, Jongdae backtracks so he can stand next to him.
“Charge,” Yixing says, his finger touching the glass as he points to something on a display stand.
Jongdae looks at it and recognizes it as one of those wireless charging devices. His eyes drift to the info tag (“newest model!”), and then his gaze settles on the price.
“Shit--” he chokes a bit, and then runs a hand over his features. “That’s half of my paycheck!”
Yixing senses the distress in Jongdae’s voice and looks at him worriedly. “Charge?”
It’s with a heavy heart that Jongdae sighs a bit, “Yes, charge. But… I can’t afford that right now. I’ll have to save up a bit before we can buy it.” He knows Yixing doesn’t have any money to spare. Hell, the guy doesn’t even have a wallet on him.
“Not good?” Yixing asks sadly, gaze returning back to the charger. Both his hands are on the window, and it’s a very ironic metaphor for something being so close, but just out of reach.
“Hey,” Jongdae squeezes Yixing’s shoulder, voice soft. “We’ll get it as soon as possible, ok? Not now, but later.”
“Not now…” Yixing repeats, before looking down at Jongdae. “Later?”
Jongdae isn’t sure if Yixing exactly understands those words, but Jongdae smiles and nods. “Later. Good.”
“Later…” Yixing smiles softly. “Good.” he nods, seeming to accept the fact, and then pulls away from the glass. “School?”
Nodding, Jongdae pulls away as well. This means that Yixing will have to stay with him for a minimum of two weeks so Jongdae can save up out of his next two paychecks to buy the charger.
He’s not exactly upset about it, though.
--
School is a disaster. All of Jongdae’s friends immediately latch onto the fact that Jongdae brought someone (a cute someone) to school with him, and bombard him with questions. Is this your newest fuck-buddy? Are you dating? Where is he from? Can I date him?
All questions are brushed off by a mildly irritated Jongdae, but Yixing seems amused by everything as a whole. Jongdae is mildly possessive and defensive, and that only makes his friends pester him even more. He ends up going to his one class with Yixing in tow, sitting as far away from his friends as possible so he can focus on the lecture. Yixing sits quietly, attentively, eyes occasionally moving from the professor down to where Jongdae is taking notes. Today’s lecture is on ancient Rome, and Yixing seems to be fascinated by the slides and presentation. Jongdae wonders just how much he can understand… But it’s not like it matters anyway, because Yixing is totally enthralled.
Jongdae finds himself looking at Yixing more than the slides up at the front of the hall. Yixing’s eyes light up with every new photo of ancient statues, with every illustration depicting a certain scene in time. Eventually Jongdae stops writing notes altogether, knowing that his focus is screwed. If only Yixing knew the language better -- Jongdae would just catch the gist of it from him later when they got home, since he’s paying enough attention for the whole class.
After the lecture they leave the hall, Yixing rattling on in his own language about what, Jongdae assumes, he liked about the lecture. It’s really cute, even if Jongdae can’t understand anything at all. Yixing gestures with his hands when he talks and even when he’s excited he’s still got a rather calm air about him, and Jongdae soaks it all up like a cat in the sunshine.
Jongin comes out of a classroom they’re passing, and he smiles brightly in greeting. “Hey~”
Yixing stops babbling when he sees Jongin, launching himself at the younger. Jongin yelps in surprise and catches Yixing’s hug a bit awkwardly, patting the man on the back.
“Uh-- good to see you too,” Jongin says, and Jongdae merely snorts in amusement.
“...Jongin.”
Sehun’s voice cuts the mood immediately, and Jongin’s expression turns panicked. He starts tugging at the back of Yixing’s coat, trying to get the man off of him, “Um-- Sehun! I-- this is Jongdae’s-- uh, you know, that guy I was talking about?”
Yixing senses the panic in Jongin’s voice and pulls back with a frown. Jongdae sees Yixing look at Sehun with a cautious eye -- Sehun’s got his arms folded across his chest, toe of his shoe tapping impatiently on the ground.
“Lovely,” Sehun deadpans.
“Don’t make such a scary face, Sehun,” Jongdae drawls, grabbing Yixing’s wrist and pulling him back towards him. “It might freeze that way.”
Sehun rolls his eyes, before grinning and breaking the terror. “Jongin, your face was priceless.”
Jongin pouts, “That’s cruel.”
Jongdae and Sehun both share a laugh, and Yixing seems mildly confused by the change in atmosphere.
Sehun steps towards the foreigner, smiling and bowing formally. “I’m Sehun. Nice to meet you.”
Yixing eyes him cautiously, before Jongdae speaks up.
“Sehun is good,” Jongdae supplies, patting Yixing’s back.
“Sehun good?” Yixing repeats, still doubtful.
“Sehun is very good,” Jongin confirms, looping an arm over Sehun’s scrawny shoulders, his tone suggestive.
Sehun huffs and rolls his eyes, trying to shove Jongin off of him. “Oh, shut up--”
“Jongdae very good,” Yixing suddenly says, and then mimics Jongin by looping an arm around Jongdae’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.
Jongdae has the decency to blush a bit, but he doesn’t pull away because he actually kind of fits nicely into Yixing’s side. Jongin and Sehun, of course, notice this immediately and start chiming in unison.
“Jongdae is very good huh?”
“How good?”
“Jongdae, have you been teaching him any body language?”
“Ok it was great seeing you guys see you later we gotta go now bye--” Jongdae rushes, his own arm wrapping around Yixing’s waist to pull him away from the annoying couple, heading towards the quad and letting out a sigh.
Yixing follows along easily, arm still draped across Jongdae’s shoulders. It feels way too comfortable. “Jongdae not ok?”
Letting out a disgruntled noise, Jongdae shrugs softly. “I’m ok.” he pulls away from Yixing’s half-embrace, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. “Are you hungry?”
“Hungry?” Yixing repeats, head tilting.
Jongdae finds himself smiling a bit, reaching to pat Yixing’s tummy lightly. “Hungry? Eat.”
Glancing down, Yixing smiles. “Yixing hungry. Yixing eat. Jongdae hungry?”
Nodding, Jongdae grins wider. “Hungry. Let’s eat.”
--
The cafe seems to blow Yixing’s mind. They serve coffee and sell books, and Jongdae allows Yixing to wander around while he orders for them. He’s not sure how Yixing will react to caffeine, so he gets him a chocolate bubble tea and an Italian soda for himself. He finds Yixing already seated on a cushy couch, a book propped open in his lap, and when Jongdae sits down next to him Yixing smiles and makes room.
“What are you reading?” he asks, even though it’s kind of a silly question. The book is in Korean, and Yixing can’t be reading it, really.
Yixing holds up the book though, Jongdae’s curious tone clearly implying that he’d like to know what Yixing has in his hands. “Book.”
Jongdae grins and holds out the bubble tea for Yixing. “Good. Yes, that is a book.”
Excited about the drink being offered to him, Yixing sets the book down on the coffee table in front of them and takes the bubble tea, examining it from the outside. He stares at the straw for a second, and Jongdae shows him that he needs to put his lips around it to get the drink. Yixing catches on and perhaps puts a little too much of the straw in his mouth, but sucks up his first gulp.
“Ah--” Yixing pulls back in surprise, swallowing and licking his lips. He swirls the cup around so he can see the little tapioca pearls floating at the bottom, and then smiles in satisfaction. Jongdae supposes he probably should have warned him that there were little bubbles in his drink, but then again, Yixing probably wouldn’t have understood.
“Good?” Jongdae asks, licking some of the whipped cream off of the top of his drink.
“Good!” Yixing confirms. He grabs the book from the coffee table once more and then sinks back into the couch, keeping the straw of his bubble tea in his mouth so he can curl up and open the book against his knees with his hands.
Taking the time to watch Yixing a bit, Jongdae notes that Yixing’s eyes trail each character carefully, as if committing it to memory. Does he understand what he’s reading? Jongdae thinks it’s not likely, but at the same time, he wonders. Yixing is very interested in the book (a Korean adaptation of a Mark Twain novel), and Jongdae is curious as to why Yixing picked that book. It’s all words, no pictures, and if Yixing likes to watch children’s shows at home, it’s a bit… odd, that he picked this book.
“Jongdae,” Yixing says, breaking Jongdae out of his trance.
Blushing a bit, caught totally gawking at Yixing, Jongdae clears his throat and takes another drink of his Italian soda. “Hm?”
“Jongdae… read?” Yixing asks, holding the book out to Jongdae.
Blinking, Jongdae stares at the book, and then looks up at Yixing’s hopeful features. A glance around the cafe shows that no one is paying particular interest to them, and Jongdae’s not really sure why he cares, anyway. Smiling, he takes the book from Yixing, shifting on the couch.
“Ok,” he says, and he sets down his drink so that he can hold the book open with one hand, and trail his finger along with the words as he reads them. He starts reading slow and carefully, tip of his finger landing on each word he says, so maybe Yixing can get the connection of matching the Hangul with the actual word. Yixing doesn’t seem to mind the slow pace and he shifts closer to Jongdae, leaning into his side, cheek on the smaller man’s shoulder so he can make sure he follows along. Yixing is incredibly warm, and he smells more like Jongdae than anything else.
Jongdae can’t remember the last time anyone got this close to him without it resulting in a quickie.
He kind of likes it.
Yixing is all new… and Jongdae knows he was getting old, until now.
Next>
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jongdae has always been needy, but never been needed. Yixing, who hails from a totally different world, helps Jongdae see his own in a new light.
Warning: Xenophilia
Notes: so this was based off a request from someone (i'm sorry i forgot your username!) and you basically wanted sexual relations between foreigners teaching each other naughty bits in their language. this is actually nothing like that and i'm sorry to disappoint. also this was going to have a smut scene but it came out really weird and disjointed so i scrapped it lol c ya
translation error;
Situations like this don’t happen in real life. Manga, yeah. Anime, definitely. Long, drawn-out yawn-inducing movies like the Notebook: indubitably.
But in Jongdae’s day-to-day life? No. No-hoooo-siree-bob is this normal at all.
The man sitting on the stoop of Jongdae’s apartment complex is absolutely soaked, without an umbrella in this torrential rain pour. His clothes have no shape, and Jongdae can’t even tell specifically what he’s wearing at all, the man is so drowned. And the look on his face… it’s totally pathetic, and Jongdae, despite his cold playboy heart, is softened. Just a bit.
But-- is this even real?
“Um…” Jongdae starts, shifting a little and then holding his umbrella out to stop the rain from drenching the stranger.
As if he hadn’t realized Jongdae was there in the first place, the man blinks when the rain overhead is blocked and he looks up with surprised, sleepy, sad eyes.
“What are you doing out in the rain like this?” Jongdae asks.
The man tilts his head and blinks slowly, before shaking his head.
Frowning a little, Jongdae scratches his cheek with his finger. “I mean.. um, are you locked out of your apartment?”
More silence from the man, his lack of answer only deafening because the rain starts to pound even harder and Jongdae is pretty sure that even if he were given a response, it’d be lost in the downpour. Thunder claps and Jongdae jolts a little, before pulling out his keys and moving past the man seated on the steps. He hurries to punch in the password on the keypad for the main entrance, before turning back to look at the stranger while he holds the door open.
“Come on.”
The man seems as though he doesn’t understand, but he gets up and slowly follows Jongdae into the foyer of the building. Now that they’re inside Jongdae closes his umbrella after he shuts the door, shaking out his parasol lightly before dumping it into the umbrella bin to join its counterparts. He ruffles his slightly damp hair and lets out a sigh, before he smiles at the stranger. Without the rain and the gloom, Jongdae can finally see the man’s face. Although, he doesn’t recognize him... that’s not really surprising; it’s not like Jongdae is necessarily chummy with his neighbors.
“Well--! Have a good night,” Jongdae bids, before inclining his head in a polite bow. He turns to make his way to the stairs, but a tug on his coat sleeve has him stopping. Turning around, he arches a brow at the man who now looks… incredibly lost, and even a bit scared. “Uh--” Jongdae chuckles lightly. “You don’t live here, huh?”
Still, the man doesn’t communicate. His brows are wrinkled only slightly, and his expression doesn’t really give away his trepidation… but the glimmer in his eyes does.
“Do you speak Korean?” Jongdae asks, his own head tilting in reply.
The man seems to register at least part of that sentence, and he shakes his head. He doesn’t look like he’s about to cry… but he does look like a lost puppy.
“Um… then,” Jongdae examines the man’s features. “Nihongo?” he tries. A long shot. Anime has taught him well, though, he’d like to think.
The man shakes his head, then manages to say “Chinese”, in perfectly accented Mandarin.
Ah, of course. The one language Jongdae had decided he didn’t need to pay attention to. ‘One day your ineptitude will bite you in the ass!’, his tutor had always said. Well. Here we are. His ass stings.
Smiling softly, Jongdae shakes the man’s fingers from his sleeve and then gestures for him to follow. The man smiles softly, one of his cheeks indenting with the slightest dimple, and Jongdae finds himself smiling wider. He’s kinda cute, for a drowned foreign puppy.
Up three flights and a few doors down, Jongdae unlocks his apartment and allows the stranger inside. He takes off his shoes and the stranger is courteous in that he follows the gesture -- but then he takes it a step further, starting to strip off his clothes. Coat? Fine. Jongdae can toss it in the wash, but…
“H-Hey!” Jongdae finds himself panicking a little as the man pulls off his sopping shirt, and then starts on the buttons of his pants without missing a beat.
The man gives Jongdae a rather complacent stare, one that obviously says ‘I’ll catch a cold if I keep these clothes on’, and Jongdae covers his eyes and muffles a sigh. This man seems very simple… and Jongdae won’t discriminate, just because he’s a foreigner, but-- man.
“Hold on a sec,” Jongdae says, raising one finger in the air. The man stares at his hand, and then nods in understanding. Quickly, Jongdae moves into his apartment and to the bedroom, grabbing a tshirt, sweats, and his coziest socks, before placing them all on the counter in the bathroom.
He returns to the entryway and is a bit alarmed to find the man standing in only his underwear, soaked clothing wadded up in his arms. Letting out a strained laugh, Jongdae takes the man’s clothes from him and quickly makes his way through the kitchen to his laundry room, where he starts a load. Once that is taken care of he returns to the entryway and grabs the man’s wrist, leading him through the apartment.
Normally Jongdae isn’t this easily rattled, but… something about this language barrier has him on edge. And the way the guy just stripped! Right there! In the bathroom Jongdae offers a tense smile and gestures to the shower, before he catches sight of what the man has in his hand.
A cell phone.
Thank God.
“I can charge that while you shower,” he says, pointing to the phone.
The man goes on the defensive since the first time he and Jongdae have come into contact, his wet fingers holding the phone tightly to his chest. He’s got goosebumps, and Jongdae tries his best not to stare at the pebbled, dusky nipples.
“Ah,” Jongdae’s tone turns a bit soothing as he rubs the back of his neck. “Charge?” he tries, in English, gesturing towards the phone again.
The man frowns, looking down at his phone, and then at Jongdae’s hand. “Charge…?” he repeats, in accented English. His voice is so soft, unsure.
“Charge,” Jongdae repeats with a smile, and then tries his best to mime plugging in a USB to the phone.
The other seems to get it and then offers a shy smile, handing his phone over. He says something, and it doesn’t really sound like Chinese, but Jongdae understands it as ‘thank you’ anyway. Smiling, he waves before backing out of the bathroom, turning on the fan and shutting the door. Now out of sight from the stranger, Jongdae sighs and stares down at the device. Totally dead. He grabs his own charger from the bedroom and moves to the living room, sitting down on the couch and plugging everything in to the wall, before he tilts the phone this way and that, looking for the charging port.
“Huh?” his confusion voices itself, brows knit as he looks over the edges of the phone. No holes. For anything. No headphone jack, no charging port, no volume buttons…? Carefully, he tries to get his nails into the sides of the device to see if he can pop the back off of it, but to no avail. Shit man, how is he supposed to charge this thing? Is it even a phone?
Pulling out his own phone he hits up Google, trying to figure out what kind of device it is. On second thought, after about three minutes of searching the net, the thought strikes him that maybe… the most concerning thing, is that a foreigner is lost and is currently inside his apartment. He should check the news to see if he has found someone who went missing.
Another five minutes, and Jongdae has come up with zilch. No missing people, no information on this weird device. Scratching his head, he leans back against the couch, the device on his coffee table and his own phone resting idly in his hand.
The door to the bathroom opens, a billow of steam accompanied by the scent of Jongdae’s shampoo. Sitting up and turning a bit, Jongdae tosses a smile over the back of the couch in the direction of the stranger. The man is a bit taller than Jongdae, and much more slender -- the borrowed clothes are baggy in some places, but fit alright for the most part.
“Come here,” Jongdae says, waving his hand in a come hither motion. The man understands and makes his way over to the couch, towel draped around his shoulders as he pats his hair dry. As the man sits, Jongdae picks up his device, “No charge?”
The man blinks owlishly, before tilting his head. “No… charge…?” he repeats.
Jongdae tries to think about how to convey it, and then is struck with an idea. He picks up his phone, as well as the charging cord, and demonstrates where it plugs in. His phone lights up, a little lightning bolt on the screen. “Charge.”
The man nods in understanding, eyeing Jongdae’s phone curiously.
Jongdae then picks up the man’s device, rotating it around. He unplugs his phone, then holds up the end of the cord to it, showing that there’s nowhere to put it in. “No charge.”
It takes a few seconds of silence for it to sink in, and then the man gasps. “No charge!?” he seems alarmed, and he stands up, taking his phone out of Jongdae’s hands. He starts babbling, voice panicked, but Jongdae is pretty sure that is not Chinese. The man looks Chinese. Affirmed that he spoke Chinese. But what on Earth is he speaking now?
“Hey, hey,” Jongdae stands up, catching the man by his shoulders and stopping his pacing. He offers a small, reassuring smile. “It’s ok.”
“Ok?” the man repeats, voice wavering, his eyes shining with what look like tears. His shoulders are rounded, but sturdy underneath Jongdae’s palms.
Jongdae nods. “Ok. Good.” he smiles and gives a thumbs up, gently takes the man’s phone from him. “We’ll get it figured out I’m sure.”
The man looks at Jongdae helplessly, and then Jongdae guides him to sit down once again. Well, if the man can’t charge his device, he likely doesn’t have any way to contact anyone he knows… Jongdae picks up his phone, holding it out to the other.
Cautiously, the man takes Jongdae’s phone. He stares at it, and then waves his hand over the screen -- when nothing happens, his cheeks puff a bit indignantly, and he waves his hand over the screen again. He tries a few more times, and Jongdae finally takes pity on him, reaching out to show him the button to unlock the phone, and how to swipe his finger along the arrow on the screen. When his phone unlocks, the man stares at it in wonder.
Strange.
“Uh,” Jongdae reaches and presses the little phone icon, and when the dial screen pops up, he smiles. “Do you know the number you need to call?” International calls will rack up on his bill, but Jongdae figures that he hasn’t done any Good Samaritan work lately. He can sacrifice one hefty bill for a good round of karma.
The man’s features light up, and it’s the first time Jongdae sees the man get excited. It’s… stunning. Jongdae momentarily forgets to breathe, as the man starts to tap his fingers over the screen. The way his eyes seem to change from chocolate brown to a light amber, how his wet hair curls a bit over his forehead...
Wow.
Catching himself, Jongdae looks down at the number the man is typing. Only, the man is typing… an abnormal amount of numbers, at an incredible speed with his index and pointer finger. He types and types and types but doesn’t hit ‘call’ and Jongdae is incredibly confused. After a few seconds the man pauses, looking at the phone expectantly -- and then he lifts his gaze up directly in front of him, like he expects to see something. Jongdae looks, too, mostly out of sheer curiosity… but when nothing happens, the stranger lets out a defeated groan, pushing the phone back into Jongdae’s hands.
“Guess you don’t know the number,” Jongdae makes the joke even though he’s the only one that gets it.
The stranger slumps back against the couch and ah, his pout is cute.
Er, well--
“It’s ok,” Jongdae says, reaching over to put his hand on the man’s shoulder, once again being reassuring and polite.
“Ok…” the man repeats, his gaze sliding over to Jongdae. “Ok…” he lifts up a hand, pointing his thumb up. “Good?”
Jongdae blinks. Baby steps. But he feels like he’s broken through a bit of a barrier and he lets out a relieved sigh, smiling and nodding. “Ok. Good. It will be ok.”
The man looks down at his thumb, and then raises it higher, pressing it against his sternum. “Yixing.”
Jongdae blinks. “Yixing?”
“Yixing. Ok.” the man says, and then points his finger at Jongdae. “Ok…?”
Oh. Yixing. A Chinese name. “Ah,” Jongdae lets out a little laugh, and then points to himself. “Jongdae.”
“Jong...dae…” the man, presumably Yixing, repeats. He then offers a small smile, “Jongdae, good.”
That in itself is probably the best compliment Jongdae has ever gotten, even if Yixing doesn’t really know what it means quite yet. For all the assholery that Jongdae has put people through over the past few years… it’s really nice to have someone looking at him with some sort of favor in their eyes.
And with Yixing’s smile bringing a bit of sunshine to this rainy day… Jongdae supposes things could be worse.
--
“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Jongin says, examining Yixing’s device so close he’s probably mouth-breathing all over it.
It’s the following morning after Jongdae had brought Yixing into his apartment. Yixing had slept on the couch peacefully and Jongdae had slept in his room fretfully, and the first thing Jongdae did in when he got up was call his tech-geek best friend to try and figure out how to unlock Yixing’s mysterious device.
“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Jongdae grouses over the clamor of making a pot of coffee.
Yixing is still in borrowed clothes, perched on the couch and intently watching the television. He’s enraptured by a children’s show while Jongin and Jongdae converse in the kitchen.
“It’s kinda weird though, isn’t it?” Jongin says, opening up his little toolkit. “I mean-- this cute guy shows up on your doorstep, speaks a weird language, and… I mean,” he spares Yixing a glance. “He’s obviously like, probably older than us but seems so… Innocent?”
Jongdae sighs, sitting down at the table and sliding a mug of fresh coffee over to his friend. His gaze moves to Yixing as well, watching as the man tries to repeat some of the phrases of the show. “It is weird. I don’t know what to do-- I don’t know what I can do. At first he said he was Chinese, then he started ranting in some language that sounds like it comes from a sci-fi film. If I take him to the police, they won’t have much luck figuring out what to do, either.”
Jongin returns to the device, using a tiny flathead screwdriver to try and find a seam. “Maybe he’s an alien.”
Jongdae snorts, “He is an alien. An illegal immigrant.”
Jongin chortles in turn, “But he’s cute.”
“Do you want him?” Jongdae asks, raising a brow at his friend as he sips on his coffee.
Jongin chokes a bit, “Sehun would kill me if I brought home a dude, c’mon man.”
Sighing, but then letting out a little laugh, Jongdae nods. “I know.”
They sit in silence for a few moments, Jongin concentrating on trying to crack open the device, Jongdae staring into his coffee. They’re interrupted by a chair scraping across the floor, and then Yixing is joining them at the table, warm smile and eyes soft.
“Ok?” Yixing asks Jongin.
Jongin shakes his head, “No. How do you open this thing?”
“Open?” Yixing’s head tilts, and Jongdae sighs softly. “No open.”
Jongdae blinks over at Yixing, “You’re learning quickly.”
Yixing blinks back peacefully.
“You mean your device doesn’t open?” Jongdae asks, pointing at the white block of plastic in Jongin’s hands.
Yixing smiles brightly and nods, “No open!”
Jongdae slouches until his forehead hits the table, and Jongin groans in defeat. “How are we supposed to turn it on?”
The reaction of the two men has Yixing blinking curiously and then frowning a bit. “No good?”
Running a hand through his already ruffled hair, Jongdae shakes his head. “No good. No open, no charge.”
Yixing shakes his head, leaning forward and taking the device out of Jongin’s fingers with his own, delicate and slender ones. He flips the device over and points to a little symbol on the back, looking at Jongin -- he’s surmised that Jongin is the smarter of the two when it comes to technology, and Jongdae can’t be offended by that.
“Charge.”
Jongin blinks down at the little symbol. It sort of looks like a cross between the AT&T symbol and the planet Saturn, but it’s just a tiny little engraving etched into the casing of the device. “Charge here?” he asks, finger tapping the spot.
Yixing smiles triumphantly, “Charge, here!”
Jongdae sighs, putting his elbow on the table and resting his cheek heavily in his hand as he regards Yixing. “Yixing, how?” The engraving isn’t a hole or a port of any sort. How does it charge the device?
“Wait…” Jongin brings the device back to where he had it on the table, looking at the engraving. “I think I get what he’s saying. You know how you can put things on a dock to charge them, without actually inserting a USB into a port?”
Jongdae blinks. “Well-- I’ve never really thought about it I guess.”
“Sehun has a mechanical face washing brush,” Jongin continues, looking up at Jongdae. “You can either charge it by USB, or you can put it in its cradle and it charges magnetically without anything being inserted. Wireless charging.”
“Huh,” Jongdae looks down at the device. “I guess that makes sense…”
Jongin grabs his own phone, typing something into the search bar. Yixing looks rather pleased, sensing in their tone of voice that they’ve made a breakthrough. Honestly, Jongdae thinks, if Yixing knows how to charge it why didn’t he try telling them?
“Weird,” Jongin comments. “I searched for devices that use the magnetic charging and not a lot came up. The face washing brush and a new model of phone coming out, but that phone doesn’t look anything like this device.”
“Shouldn’t we just be able to go get one of the wireless chargers and hook it up to his phone?” Jongdae suggests.
“It’s worth a shot,” Jongin shrugs, before turning to smile at Yixing. “I think we understand now.”
Yixing perks, “Good?”
Jongdae laughs a bit. “Good.”
“What are you gonna do, man?” Jongin asks, returning his attention back to Jongdae.
Jongdae takes a sip of his coffee, “What do you mean?”
“Well, you have a foreigner in your apartment that clearly can’t go anywhere or do anything while he’s here…” Jongin says, handing the device back to Yixing. Yixing hugs it to his chest and coos happily.
“Mmm,” Jongdae shrugs. “I guess I’ll use my paid time off from work and cash it in now for a staycation.”
“You’re really calm about this,” Jongin observes, sending Jongdae a suspicious glance. “Like, Yixing is really cute. You’d be all over him if this were any other situation.”
Jongdae grins, “But this isn’t another situation, therefore I’m not all over him. Besides, you said it yourself: he seems so… innocent. And he is cute, but he’s lost, and I don’t want to scare him any more than he already is.”
Jongin’s gaze slides back to Yixing. “That’s… really nice of you, Jongdae.”
Jongdae blinks, Jongin’s comment catching him off-guard. Ok, yes, Jongdae knows he can be a handful and a snarky, sarcastic bastard 95% of the time, but to hear his best friend be genuinely surprised by his actions… It’s both offensive, and a compliment. The two emotions swirl uncomfortably in Jongdae’s gut before he mumbles a ‘yeah, sure’.
“Anyway, I gotta go.” Jongin packs up his little tools and gadgets, carefully putting them back into their case and then sliding the case into his back pocket as he stands. “If you need help babysitting call me, ok?”
Jongdae snorts a bit. “Whatever, Sehun would have your nuts.”
“I think Sehun would like Yixing,” Jongin laughs a bit, before waving to Jongdae, and then to Yixing.
Yixing waves back in a friendly, serene manner, and when Jongin exits the apartment and Jongdae and Yixing are left alone at the table, Jongdae lets out a soft sigh. It’s Sunday morning and he’s not scheduled for work today, but he should call his boss and put in his request for time off. This whole situation is still pretty surreal; Jongdae doesn’t normally open his house up to strangers. Well, one-night stands, sure-- but he kicks them out before morning.
Yixing is different. And not just because he’s foreign… Something else about him that Jongdae can’t quite put his finger on, is making Jongdae feel a bit on edge.
--
Monday morning has Jongdae lazily getting ready for his only class. He figures he can ask his professors to send him work via e-mail so he can do it from home, while he tries to take care of Yixing. Yixing watches as Jongdae wanders around the house, another children’s show playing quietly on the television.
Yixing is back in his original clothes and now that they’re washed and dried, Jongdae can appreciate the man a bit more. He wears a black scoop-neck tshirt with charcoal grey skinny jeans and a plain black hoodie and looks every bit like your normal, every-day guy. His hair is a bit curly and Jongdae suspects it’s from a perm, light brown in color. Like this, Jongdae can forget that the man is a total stranger from another country and feel more like Yixing is a friend hanging out in his apartment. Yixing’s presence is another thing -- he’s always calm and smiling, and though he gets confused quite often he takes it in stride and does his best to understand.
At first, Jongdae was sure that language was the only barrier. But after thirty-six hours with the man, he’s starting to pick up little quirks and oddities. Like how Yixing did not understand the concept of a microwave at all. When Jongdae had put a cup of coffee into the microwave to reheat, Yixing had yelped and slammed the door shut, pulling Jongdae away and shielding him with his own body. It had been a bit awkward, such a skinny but strong man enveloping Jongdae in his embrace. Especially over a microwave. It took a good five minutes of simplified explanation that Jongdae was merely reheating something so he could enjoy it again, before Yixing finally relented and allowed him to enjoy his coffee (even though Yixing stayed far away from the microwave when it was on, staring at it suspiciously).
On top of that, and possibly even more alarming that Yixing seems astounded by it: food. Cooking and eating altogether. Just this morning when Jondgae had made breakfast, despite Yixing seeing him cook dinner the previous night, the foreigner had hovered over Jongdae’s shoulder, carefully watching everything he did to prepare a simple breakfast of eggs and toast. And when it came to actually eating, Yixing seemed very pleased. He only took a few bites of eggs and a few bites of his toast before he sat back and patted his belly (and as skinny as the guy is, Jongdae just figures his stomach is too shrunk to eat too much), happily saying “Good!” before helping Jongdae do the dishes.
Presently, Jongdae grabs his messenger bag, making sure he has the right book inside along with a pen and a few highlighters. He slings it over his shoulder and then turns to see Yixing watching him intently -- coughing a bit, still unused to the attention, Jongdae waves a hand.
“Come here,” he says.
Yixing still understands very few words: Come here, ok, good, no, food, eat, sleep. His vocabulary is small but he still seems to be getting by just fine. Jongdae admires him. And the fact that Yixing stays so patient even when Jongdae feels like he’s going to blow a fuse… It’s different. Jongdae is afraid that he’ll get used to it.
Yixing meets Jongdae at the door, and Jongdae smiles and points at the man’s shoes while he slips into his own. “Shoes,” he says, and then points to the pair next to his. “Yixing’s shoes.”
“Yixing… shoes,” Yixing repeats, and then smiles and crouches so he can put his shoes on and tie them up properly. He stands straight, and then gives Jongdae a thumbs up, “Good!”
“Good,” Jongdae agrees with a little smile. “Today we’re going to school.”
Yixing tilts his head cutely, and Jongdae hums a little.
“You’ll see when we get there,” he decides, and then opens up the door, leading Yixing out of the apartment for the first time since he brought him in.
The trek to school is… interesting. Yixing is a bit hesitant about riding the bus, and even when they’re in a seat he chooses to take the aisle seat and clutch onto the sleeve of Jongdae’s coat. Every bounce, every shift has Yixing letting out a surprised noise, and Jongdae feels a bit bad… and a bit curious. It’s like Yixing has never been in a vehicle before. Which is odd, because obviously Yixing had to get to Korea somehow.
After teaching Yixing the words ‘bus’, ‘stop’, ‘fast’, and ‘slow’, they make it to Jongdae’s usual stop. He leads Yixing off the bus, the man still clutching onto Jongdae’s coat, and once they’re on the sidewalk Yixing lets out a happy sigh before glaring at the bus as it drives off.
“You don’t like the bus?” Jongdae asks with amusement in his voice.
Yixing looks at Jongdae and he must sense the teasing because he blushes lightly, harrumphing and sticking his nose in the air as he folds his arms over his chest.
Laughing, Jongdae takes Yixing’s elbow and leads him along the sidewalk in the direction of his university. Yixing eventually relaxes as they walk, his gaze on swivel as he looks at everything around them. Occasionally he stops -- at a flower stand to inhale the fresh scent, in front of a bakery to stare in awe at the desserts in the window, and even in front of a clothing store, reaching out to hesitantly poke a mannequin. It’s so naive and pure and Jongdae starts to suspect that Yixing isn’t just any foreigner.
Of course, crazy scenarios flit through his head. Is Yixing from some undeveloped city? The way he acts says yes, but other things say no, namely: his strange electronic device and the way he dresses. Those two things are very modern and normal for society… but Yixing just doesn’t seem to fit.
And for some reason, Jongdae… sort of likes it that way. Yixing is so out of left field that it’s refreshing. Jongdae had been pretty caught up in the humdrum of work and school and skirt chasing -- Yixing has thrown a surprisingly delightful wrench into Jongdae’s life.
They pass by an electronics store and Yixing pauses, looking inside. Jongdae slows down, waiting for Yixing to catch up, but when the man stays where he is, gaze on something in the window, Jongdae backtracks so he can stand next to him.
“Charge,” Yixing says, his finger touching the glass as he points to something on a display stand.
Jongdae looks at it and recognizes it as one of those wireless charging devices. His eyes drift to the info tag (“newest model!”), and then his gaze settles on the price.
“Shit--” he chokes a bit, and then runs a hand over his features. “That’s half of my paycheck!”
Yixing senses the distress in Jongdae’s voice and looks at him worriedly. “Charge?”
It’s with a heavy heart that Jongdae sighs a bit, “Yes, charge. But… I can’t afford that right now. I’ll have to save up a bit before we can buy it.” He knows Yixing doesn’t have any money to spare. Hell, the guy doesn’t even have a wallet on him.
“Not good?” Yixing asks sadly, gaze returning back to the charger. Both his hands are on the window, and it’s a very ironic metaphor for something being so close, but just out of reach.
“Hey,” Jongdae squeezes Yixing’s shoulder, voice soft. “We’ll get it as soon as possible, ok? Not now, but later.”
“Not now…” Yixing repeats, before looking down at Jongdae. “Later?”
Jongdae isn’t sure if Yixing exactly understands those words, but Jongdae smiles and nods. “Later. Good.”
“Later…” Yixing smiles softly. “Good.” he nods, seeming to accept the fact, and then pulls away from the glass. “School?”
Nodding, Jongdae pulls away as well. This means that Yixing will have to stay with him for a minimum of two weeks so Jongdae can save up out of his next two paychecks to buy the charger.
He’s not exactly upset about it, though.
--
School is a disaster. All of Jongdae’s friends immediately latch onto the fact that Jongdae brought someone (a cute someone) to school with him, and bombard him with questions. Is this your newest fuck-buddy? Are you dating? Where is he from? Can I date him?
All questions are brushed off by a mildly irritated Jongdae, but Yixing seems amused by everything as a whole. Jongdae is mildly possessive and defensive, and that only makes his friends pester him even more. He ends up going to his one class with Yixing in tow, sitting as far away from his friends as possible so he can focus on the lecture. Yixing sits quietly, attentively, eyes occasionally moving from the professor down to where Jongdae is taking notes. Today’s lecture is on ancient Rome, and Yixing seems to be fascinated by the slides and presentation. Jongdae wonders just how much he can understand… But it’s not like it matters anyway, because Yixing is totally enthralled.
Jongdae finds himself looking at Yixing more than the slides up at the front of the hall. Yixing’s eyes light up with every new photo of ancient statues, with every illustration depicting a certain scene in time. Eventually Jongdae stops writing notes altogether, knowing that his focus is screwed. If only Yixing knew the language better -- Jongdae would just catch the gist of it from him later when they got home, since he’s paying enough attention for the whole class.
After the lecture they leave the hall, Yixing rattling on in his own language about what, Jongdae assumes, he liked about the lecture. It’s really cute, even if Jongdae can’t understand anything at all. Yixing gestures with his hands when he talks and even when he’s excited he’s still got a rather calm air about him, and Jongdae soaks it all up like a cat in the sunshine.
Jongin comes out of a classroom they’re passing, and he smiles brightly in greeting. “Hey~”
Yixing stops babbling when he sees Jongin, launching himself at the younger. Jongin yelps in surprise and catches Yixing’s hug a bit awkwardly, patting the man on the back.
“Uh-- good to see you too,” Jongin says, and Jongdae merely snorts in amusement.
“...Jongin.”
Sehun’s voice cuts the mood immediately, and Jongin’s expression turns panicked. He starts tugging at the back of Yixing’s coat, trying to get the man off of him, “Um-- Sehun! I-- this is Jongdae’s-- uh, you know, that guy I was talking about?”
Yixing senses the panic in Jongin’s voice and pulls back with a frown. Jongdae sees Yixing look at Sehun with a cautious eye -- Sehun’s got his arms folded across his chest, toe of his shoe tapping impatiently on the ground.
“Lovely,” Sehun deadpans.
“Don’t make such a scary face, Sehun,” Jongdae drawls, grabbing Yixing’s wrist and pulling him back towards him. “It might freeze that way.”
Sehun rolls his eyes, before grinning and breaking the terror. “Jongin, your face was priceless.”
Jongin pouts, “That’s cruel.”
Jongdae and Sehun both share a laugh, and Yixing seems mildly confused by the change in atmosphere.
Sehun steps towards the foreigner, smiling and bowing formally. “I’m Sehun. Nice to meet you.”
Yixing eyes him cautiously, before Jongdae speaks up.
“Sehun is good,” Jongdae supplies, patting Yixing’s back.
“Sehun good?” Yixing repeats, still doubtful.
“Sehun is very good,” Jongin confirms, looping an arm over Sehun’s scrawny shoulders, his tone suggestive.
Sehun huffs and rolls his eyes, trying to shove Jongin off of him. “Oh, shut up--”
“Jongdae very good,” Yixing suddenly says, and then mimics Jongin by looping an arm around Jongdae’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.
Jongdae has the decency to blush a bit, but he doesn’t pull away because he actually kind of fits nicely into Yixing’s side. Jongin and Sehun, of course, notice this immediately and start chiming in unison.
“Jongdae is very good huh?”
“How good?”
“Jongdae, have you been teaching him any body language?”
“Ok it was great seeing you guys see you later we gotta go now bye--” Jongdae rushes, his own arm wrapping around Yixing’s waist to pull him away from the annoying couple, heading towards the quad and letting out a sigh.
Yixing follows along easily, arm still draped across Jongdae’s shoulders. It feels way too comfortable. “Jongdae not ok?”
Letting out a disgruntled noise, Jongdae shrugs softly. “I’m ok.” he pulls away from Yixing’s half-embrace, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. “Are you hungry?”
“Hungry?” Yixing repeats, head tilting.
Jongdae finds himself smiling a bit, reaching to pat Yixing’s tummy lightly. “Hungry? Eat.”
Glancing down, Yixing smiles. “Yixing hungry. Yixing eat. Jongdae hungry?”
Nodding, Jongdae grins wider. “Hungry. Let’s eat.”
--
The cafe seems to blow Yixing’s mind. They serve coffee and sell books, and Jongdae allows Yixing to wander around while he orders for them. He’s not sure how Yixing will react to caffeine, so he gets him a chocolate bubble tea and an Italian soda for himself. He finds Yixing already seated on a cushy couch, a book propped open in his lap, and when Jongdae sits down next to him Yixing smiles and makes room.
“What are you reading?” he asks, even though it’s kind of a silly question. The book is in Korean, and Yixing can’t be reading it, really.
Yixing holds up the book though, Jongdae’s curious tone clearly implying that he’d like to know what Yixing has in his hands. “Book.”
Jongdae grins and holds out the bubble tea for Yixing. “Good. Yes, that is a book.”
Excited about the drink being offered to him, Yixing sets the book down on the coffee table in front of them and takes the bubble tea, examining it from the outside. He stares at the straw for a second, and Jongdae shows him that he needs to put his lips around it to get the drink. Yixing catches on and perhaps puts a little too much of the straw in his mouth, but sucks up his first gulp.
“Ah--” Yixing pulls back in surprise, swallowing and licking his lips. He swirls the cup around so he can see the little tapioca pearls floating at the bottom, and then smiles in satisfaction. Jongdae supposes he probably should have warned him that there were little bubbles in his drink, but then again, Yixing probably wouldn’t have understood.
“Good?” Jongdae asks, licking some of the whipped cream off of the top of his drink.
“Good!” Yixing confirms. He grabs the book from the coffee table once more and then sinks back into the couch, keeping the straw of his bubble tea in his mouth so he can curl up and open the book against his knees with his hands.
Taking the time to watch Yixing a bit, Jongdae notes that Yixing’s eyes trail each character carefully, as if committing it to memory. Does he understand what he’s reading? Jongdae thinks it’s not likely, but at the same time, he wonders. Yixing is very interested in the book (a Korean adaptation of a Mark Twain novel), and Jongdae is curious as to why Yixing picked that book. It’s all words, no pictures, and if Yixing likes to watch children’s shows at home, it’s a bit… odd, that he picked this book.
“Jongdae,” Yixing says, breaking Jongdae out of his trance.
Blushing a bit, caught totally gawking at Yixing, Jongdae clears his throat and takes another drink of his Italian soda. “Hm?”
“Jongdae… read?” Yixing asks, holding the book out to Jongdae.
Blinking, Jongdae stares at the book, and then looks up at Yixing’s hopeful features. A glance around the cafe shows that no one is paying particular interest to them, and Jongdae’s not really sure why he cares, anyway. Smiling, he takes the book from Yixing, shifting on the couch.
“Ok,” he says, and he sets down his drink so that he can hold the book open with one hand, and trail his finger along with the words as he reads them. He starts reading slow and carefully, tip of his finger landing on each word he says, so maybe Yixing can get the connection of matching the Hangul with the actual word. Yixing doesn’t seem to mind the slow pace and he shifts closer to Jongdae, leaning into his side, cheek on the smaller man’s shoulder so he can make sure he follows along. Yixing is incredibly warm, and he smells more like Jongdae than anything else.
Jongdae can’t remember the last time anyone got this close to him without it resulting in a quickie.
He kind of likes it.
Yixing is all new… and Jongdae knows he was getting old, until now.
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