twentysomething [oneshot]
Title: twentysomething
Author: salted_taiyaki
Pairing(s): Onew x Taemin
Genre: Romance, AU
Rating: PG-13
Summary: jinki is a twentysomething who finds an answer.
a/n: inspired/influenced greatly by jamie cullum's twentysomething. i listened to it obsessively after i think it was kinamona who mentioned that onew listens to him a lot. prior to that i had no idea who he was haha. but i love his music now, and after memorizing the lyrics i decided that i should write something. yes, this is distracting me from my finals studying (gonna fail chem anyway)
lee jinki is a twentysomething who doesn't know the answer, and doesn't know how to find it.
he is an english major in one of the top schools of korea, and he really likes poems and plays. he likes to think of them as his speciality-explains the straight a's he's been receiving since freshman year-as he flies through the years of college. he doesn't know what he wants to do with english. he thinks he'll go to america, translate documents, teach for a plausible paycheck.
he also sings and is pretty good but he doesn't flaunt it like his best friend jonghyun. he can't dress himself up like kibum, and he can't catch or kick or throw a ball like minho can. so jinki's just the brain of the group, and he thinks he's okay with that. (he has the money, too, to start a record company and release a cd or two. but he figures it can just be used for his education, and then he can go to america to teach, earn some cash, rake all he can so he can travel the world or something ridiculous like that.)
he lives in one of those skyscrapers that touch the seoul sky and every night jinki goes to sleep after brushing his fingers against the painted window, thinking, maybe, with the faintest trace of a hope, and when he wakes up to see the sky still ruling, he doesn't lose it.
so jinki's plan to move to america and then travel the world kind of failed on him (it backfired, actually, because apparently the world doesn't need scholars like him in their business) but he's not afraid. he's got a job in incheon and everything's great, despite the commute. jinki hates subways but he can't do anything about it.
he earns money, he makes friends, and he stays fit at the gym on tuesdays and thursdays, with the occasional martini on a saturday evening tipping the sodium intake. jinki isn't complaining about his life, he never does, but some dull silence in the back of his mind tells him that he should, that something from his good life is missing. he ignores it because frankly the thought scares him, and it leaves for a temporary absence.
it doesn't return until one day, as he's looking out the window from his seat in the teacher's office, a shorter twentysomething walks in front of him, eyes smiling and teeth shining, a small hi, nice to meet you filling his ears. and then jinki is falling from the shrouded sky, veiled by pearly teeth and wispy, thin auburn strands, and he knows his landing will be far from graceful.
his name is lee taemin and he's approximately five foot nine, a new math teacher with a burning hatred for broccoli. jinki finds it kind of cute when taemin tells him that as they pick apart their lunches for the first time that afternoon during the break, and he can't stop a smile.
taemin tells jinki that he's really only staying for a year because he has future plans waiting for him and jinki only nods, because he's been there before and thinks that taemin might have a chance. he laughs when taemin drops his books like a flustered schoolboy in the middle of the hallway-kind of reminds him of himself back in the day-and he listens to taemin share stories of his childhood and the meaningless drama that exists in his students' lives.
five months pass and after thirty dinners (one every saturday, two fridays a month) jinki begins his countdown until the end of the year with taemin by his side at the desk, their pencils angrily circling dates of the past and of the future. jinki doesn't feel the cold blue of the seoul sky on his fingertips anymore. all he feels is the smoldering, red-orange warmth from taemin's hand as they kind of accidentally brush on top of stacks of paper and red circles. and when he goes to sleep at night it's always after he sees him and taemin running across the open sky, like they're on hallucinogenics (but not, for a fact, because he never touches the stuff), until they both slip into a huge cumulus cloud in a tangle of limbs and sloppy kisses.
jinki thinks that, for an english teacher, he really sucks at reading between the lines.
so one day jinki tells kibum and minho of his slight dilemma and they kind of look at him like he's some disgusting zombie, and he remains a bit clueless until kibum shakily breathes in and says, "you're in love." he doesn't believe it at first, of course, but when he sees taemin again on monday morning, his tongue turns dry and his mind is hazy (at least, hazier than usual) and he trips on his words like he did on the hurdles in track with an unusual heat dusting his cheeks.
taemin somehow suspects that jinki's been acting weird after a few days of silent squirming and feeble fumbling and approaches him with an awkward are you all right? because lately you've been- jinki stops him with a shake of his head, "stop, wait, let me." so taemin remains quiet until jinki leans in and kisses him against one of the cabinets of the teacher's office, kisses him with his tongue and teeth and elbows like he's never ever kissed before (kind of true, his last kiss was with his 11th grade girlfriend). the twentysomething kisses back, feels rather sweaty palms push under his shirt, and then the scraping of a door throws them apart from each other, eyes wide and excited at the spark.
jinki reminds taemin that he has to leave early for the train ride down to his hometown and they both look dejectedly out through the windows, each gaze trailing to suntanned clouds. the covers aren't too warm anymore, and the pads of their fingertips aren't as soft as they were the night before, but taemin feels it comforting as he finds a crook in jinki's neck and whispers, "i don't want to." jinki can only nod because he's been there before and doesn't want him to either, but knows, thinks, assumes he should.
he's sure of what he's missing the moment the train makes its way down the railroad into the side of korea that he wishes didn't exist.
two months later and jinki still goes to the gym every tuesday and thursday, has his personal dinners on perfect saturday evenings. he still reads a lot-lately it's been stendhal, holmes, even the greek stuff-and before he knows it autumn rolls along as a growing heap of leaves on his patio. he doesn't quite know what to do with the red-orange leaves that resemble it because he's never really seen it there before, so he leaves it there until the pile grows and grows then slowly, slowly tips and spills over the railing. (they never complain though, they're too busy staring at his face.)
he still works at the same high school and there's nothing to complain about because he thinks he's content with this lifestyle of no frozen foods or possible heartache. the silence in the back scoffs at that, says you're a fool and jinki rubs his eyes tiredly, i know.
he's thrust out of his third cup of coffee one morning when a hand swoops down across his desk and his papers and books scatter to the floor. eyes are wide as he spits out the burnt drink and almost drops his cup, "what are-?" he looks up to eyes that ask did you miss me?
and jinki's jaw drops, because that's not fake, it's not made of condensed water vapor, it's taemin in his flesh and beauty and he leans in to press chaste kisses on his gaping mouth. they exchange stories and feelings through the slow movement of their lips and jinki finds it beautiful, so beautiful. taemin pulls back and stares and jinki swiftly answers him with a tight hug around the waist. and they laugh and whisper to each other and run their hands through their hair until an uncomfortable cough catches their attention, the principal standing awkwardly at the door.
now they sleep on a too-small bed in jinki's apartment but jinki likes it because he can feel taemin's warmth by his side no matter how they sleep. taemin thinks that his kitchen is perfect for cooking and he says all the living room needs is a tint of color because the grey and white scheme is lackluster. jinki rolls his eyes whenever taemin spends five minutes searching for the closet with his pants in it (he's drawn out the entire house a billion times for him), sometimes finding a pair draped over the television screen.
now every morning taemin kisses him on the lips and every night jinki kisses him back on his shoulders. jinki makes breakfast and taemin struggles with dinner so the two revert to their habit of eating out every once in a while. sometimes taemin complains that he's getting a bit flabby but (he's read this before in a magazine, it's supposed to work) jinki only shakes his head and wraps an arm around his waist (and he thinks it must be working because he's smiling again).
now jinki and taemin look out the window to watch the skies that seem so far away from their grounded place in bed, but taemin turns to him and murmurs against warm, buzzing skin, "i couldn't have it any other way." and jinki nods, because he thinks so too.
and now there's no silence anymore, only taemin's quiet laughter and sobs and moans and snorts and breathless sighs.
lee jinki is a twentysomething who's found an answer (lee taemin), and kind of wants to write a book about it.
.end
okay i wrote the first 3/4 yesterday and the ending this morning but there is like no coherency oh god. well no matter, hope you guys enjoyed ;;;;
Author: salted_taiyaki
Pairing(s): Onew x Taemin
Genre: Romance, AU
Rating: PG-13
Summary: jinki is a twentysomething who finds an answer.
a/n: inspired/influenced greatly by jamie cullum's twentysomething. i listened to it obsessively after i think it was kinamona who mentioned that onew listens to him a lot. prior to that i had no idea who he was haha. but i love his music now, and after memorizing the lyrics i decided that i should write something. yes, this is distracting me from my finals studying (gonna fail chem anyway)
lee jinki is a twentysomething who doesn't know the answer, and doesn't know how to find it.
he is an english major in one of the top schools of korea, and he really likes poems and plays. he likes to think of them as his speciality-explains the straight a's he's been receiving since freshman year-as he flies through the years of college. he doesn't know what he wants to do with english. he thinks he'll go to america, translate documents, teach for a plausible paycheck.
he also sings and is pretty good but he doesn't flaunt it like his best friend jonghyun. he can't dress himself up like kibum, and he can't catch or kick or throw a ball like minho can. so jinki's just the brain of the group, and he thinks he's okay with that. (he has the money, too, to start a record company and release a cd or two. but he figures it can just be used for his education, and then he can go to america to teach, earn some cash, rake all he can so he can travel the world or something ridiculous like that.)
he lives in one of those skyscrapers that touch the seoul sky and every night jinki goes to sleep after brushing his fingers against the painted window, thinking, maybe, with the faintest trace of a hope, and when he wakes up to see the sky still ruling, he doesn't lose it.
so jinki's plan to move to america and then travel the world kind of failed on him (it backfired, actually, because apparently the world doesn't need scholars like him in their business) but he's not afraid. he's got a job in incheon and everything's great, despite the commute. jinki hates subways but he can't do anything about it.
he earns money, he makes friends, and he stays fit at the gym on tuesdays and thursdays, with the occasional martini on a saturday evening tipping the sodium intake. jinki isn't complaining about his life, he never does, but some dull silence in the back of his mind tells him that he should, that something from his good life is missing. he ignores it because frankly the thought scares him, and it leaves for a temporary absence.
it doesn't return until one day, as he's looking out the window from his seat in the teacher's office, a shorter twentysomething walks in front of him, eyes smiling and teeth shining, a small hi, nice to meet you filling his ears. and then jinki is falling from the shrouded sky, veiled by pearly teeth and wispy, thin auburn strands, and he knows his landing will be far from graceful.
his name is lee taemin and he's approximately five foot nine, a new math teacher with a burning hatred for broccoli. jinki finds it kind of cute when taemin tells him that as they pick apart their lunches for the first time that afternoon during the break, and he can't stop a smile.
taemin tells jinki that he's really only staying for a year because he has future plans waiting for him and jinki only nods, because he's been there before and thinks that taemin might have a chance. he laughs when taemin drops his books like a flustered schoolboy in the middle of the hallway-kind of reminds him of himself back in the day-and he listens to taemin share stories of his childhood and the meaningless drama that exists in his students' lives.
five months pass and after thirty dinners (one every saturday, two fridays a month) jinki begins his countdown until the end of the year with taemin by his side at the desk, their pencils angrily circling dates of the past and of the future. jinki doesn't feel the cold blue of the seoul sky on his fingertips anymore. all he feels is the smoldering, red-orange warmth from taemin's hand as they kind of accidentally brush on top of stacks of paper and red circles. and when he goes to sleep at night it's always after he sees him and taemin running across the open sky, like they're on hallucinogenics (but not, for a fact, because he never touches the stuff), until they both slip into a huge cumulus cloud in a tangle of limbs and sloppy kisses.
jinki thinks that, for an english teacher, he really sucks at reading between the lines.
so one day jinki tells kibum and minho of his slight dilemma and they kind of look at him like he's some disgusting zombie, and he remains a bit clueless until kibum shakily breathes in and says, "you're in love." he doesn't believe it at first, of course, but when he sees taemin again on monday morning, his tongue turns dry and his mind is hazy (at least, hazier than usual) and he trips on his words like he did on the hurdles in track with an unusual heat dusting his cheeks.
taemin somehow suspects that jinki's been acting weird after a few days of silent squirming and feeble fumbling and approaches him with an awkward are you all right? because lately you've been- jinki stops him with a shake of his head, "stop, wait, let me." so taemin remains quiet until jinki leans in and kisses him against one of the cabinets of the teacher's office, kisses him with his tongue and teeth and elbows like he's never ever kissed before (kind of true, his last kiss was with his 11th grade girlfriend). the twentysomething kisses back, feels rather sweaty palms push under his shirt, and then the scraping of a door throws them apart from each other, eyes wide and excited at the spark.
jinki reminds taemin that he has to leave early for the train ride down to his hometown and they both look dejectedly out through the windows, each gaze trailing to suntanned clouds. the covers aren't too warm anymore, and the pads of their fingertips aren't as soft as they were the night before, but taemin feels it comforting as he finds a crook in jinki's neck and whispers, "i don't want to." jinki can only nod because he's been there before and doesn't want him to either, but knows, thinks, assumes he should.
he's sure of what he's missing the moment the train makes its way down the railroad into the side of korea that he wishes didn't exist.
two months later and jinki still goes to the gym every tuesday and thursday, has his personal dinners on perfect saturday evenings. he still reads a lot-lately it's been stendhal, holmes, even the greek stuff-and before he knows it autumn rolls along as a growing heap of leaves on his patio. he doesn't quite know what to do with the red-orange leaves that resemble it because he's never really seen it there before, so he leaves it there until the pile grows and grows then slowly, slowly tips and spills over the railing. (they never complain though, they're too busy staring at his face.)
he still works at the same high school and there's nothing to complain about because he thinks he's content with this lifestyle of no frozen foods or possible heartache. the silence in the back scoffs at that, says you're a fool and jinki rubs his eyes tiredly, i know.
he's thrust out of his third cup of coffee one morning when a hand swoops down across his desk and his papers and books scatter to the floor. eyes are wide as he spits out the burnt drink and almost drops his cup, "what are-?" he looks up to eyes that ask did you miss me?
and jinki's jaw drops, because that's not fake, it's not made of condensed water vapor, it's taemin in his flesh and beauty and he leans in to press chaste kisses on his gaping mouth. they exchange stories and feelings through the slow movement of their lips and jinki finds it beautiful, so beautiful. taemin pulls back and stares and jinki swiftly answers him with a tight hug around the waist. and they laugh and whisper to each other and run their hands through their hair until an uncomfortable cough catches their attention, the principal standing awkwardly at the door.
now they sleep on a too-small bed in jinki's apartment but jinki likes it because he can feel taemin's warmth by his side no matter how they sleep. taemin thinks that his kitchen is perfect for cooking and he says all the living room needs is a tint of color because the grey and white scheme is lackluster. jinki rolls his eyes whenever taemin spends five minutes searching for the closet with his pants in it (he's drawn out the entire house a billion times for him), sometimes finding a pair draped over the television screen.
now every morning taemin kisses him on the lips and every night jinki kisses him back on his shoulders. jinki makes breakfast and taemin struggles with dinner so the two revert to their habit of eating out every once in a while. sometimes taemin complains that he's getting a bit flabby but (he's read this before in a magazine, it's supposed to work) jinki only shakes his head and wraps an arm around his waist (and he thinks it must be working because he's smiling again).
now jinki and taemin look out the window to watch the skies that seem so far away from their grounded place in bed, but taemin turns to him and murmurs against warm, buzzing skin, "i couldn't have it any other way." and jinki nods, because he thinks so too.
and now there's no silence anymore, only taemin's quiet laughter and sobs and moans and snorts and breathless sighs.
lee jinki is a twentysomething who's found an answer (lee taemin), and kind of wants to write a book about it.
.end
okay i wrote the first 3/4 yesterday and the ending this morning but there is like no coherency oh god. well no matter, hope you guys enjoyed ;;;;