while locking his door (1)
onho
some swearing, so maybe pg-13? I don't get ratings, but swearing occurs, so proceed if you don't mind, don't proceed if it makes you antsy
wc 1280
prompts: august 31_days
17. an alignment of the universe along moral lines
in the midst of his life, whilst locking his apartment door, jinki finds himself. he finds that inner part of him that he'd been wondering about for so long, a part that he had thought would never come. but the world will not stop for him, and so he finishes locking his door, twisting the knob to double-check, and then leaves. just because jinki finds that he knows why he does milk and then cereal, why he used to want to go to art school and why his mom used to sigh in exhaustion at the dining room table does not mean that work stops, that he doesn't have to go to the office, sit in a desk and in meetings, looking at charts showing the percentage of how their profits have increased.
in the elevator stands someone he remembers seeing vaguely before, one of those corner-of-the-eye things, and this time jinki takes the time to look at him, because this is who he is: observant. he's tall, lean and half-asleep, leaning against the wall. he glances at the elevator buttons- he's getting off at the ground floor same as him. jinki, normally focused on simply getting through life, discovers that he is worried about this stranger, a half-familiar person, and whether or not he'll be okay.
then the elevator jerks, the signal that they have arrived, and the stranger is up and gone and jinki is relieved- it's weird, these feelings, he's the conscious he never had.
19. the fire in their midst roars and crackles
minho is angry- he's normally angry, it's default-mode for him, but this is an infuriated angry, at his luck, at the world, because he never gets a break. it's one thing after another and he's never going to get anywhere, he's never going to achieve any of his childhood and teenage dreams. he's never going to go busking, he's never going to finish grad school, he's never going to make his parents proud. twenty-six, unemployed and soon to be kicked out of his apartment- what is there to be proud of?
memory is his enemy and he furiously removes himself from going down it's road.
he stalks back into the building, wondering when he's going to pack his stuff up, where he's going to put it, how angry his dad will be when he calls and asks to move back in, and runs into another person. he glances then away, going forward, but the person's voice calls him back.
"are you okay?"
no, he'd like to say, I am not okay, you know, I wouldn't mind ripping your throat out, so don't talk? instead he walks forward until the person is grasping his arm.
"I saw you, this morning, in the elevator? remember me?"
a round face, white enough teeth, hair just above his eyebrows. "no," he does say, "I do not. is there a reason why you're talking to me?"
he pauses, looks confused, searching for an answer and finds it- he shrugs. "I don't think I need one."
okay then, he thinks, a weirdo. never would have guessed, looking at the day-worn dress shirt and the briefcase slung over his shoulder, a couple papers sticking out of it. "then I don't need one to leave."
but the hand on his sleeve doesn't let go.
"look," he says through gritted teeth, "I've gotta go, I need to move out and--"
"move in with me then."
minho stares at him, a man he doesn't even know the name of, offering to share his apartment with him. so, rationally, he smirks. what a joke. "good one, man, but I'm fucking pissed and in no mood for jo--"
"it's not a joke. come with me."
so he's lead to his apartment on the fourth floor, two below his, and it lacks many things, like tables and chairs, and seems to only contain a bed and a dresser with a tv stacked on top of it. minho swallows, because this is either a really bad situation or a really good situation.
"why are you doing this?"
the man tilts his head. "because I found myself."
minho feels like a cigarette and motions to the balcony with a smoking gesture. the man assents, having a trifle of trouble with the door, but eventually the door opens and it's the two of them, minho burning up with everything going wrong and how this one small gesture of goodwill or who knows what is not enough water to put him out. he lights his cigarette, cupping it to protect it from the wind, and inhales deeply, feeling the hot nicotine fill his lungs, then exhales.
"I'll be bringing my furniture, hope you don't mind. my name's minho."
22. ignorance is the worst doctor
it's going great, well sort of great, because minho's not easy to share a life with, but jinki's sure he'll get over it. he's sure that he'll get used to a haze of nicotine, because his once-shell didn't used to smoke, but it's nice that minho brought his own things down, because jinki's not sure if he'd want to go and just splurge to buy all the essential furniture pieces he'd been doing without for quite a while.
minho is not as approachable as he wished he could be, but jinki can live with this. he doesn't mind their morning conversations, minho bleary with shaken sleep and jinki chipper because he's apparently a morning person. the conversations don't run for very long, but jinki believes that they do go splendidly, since they're actually, you know, communicating, fundamental for any sort of relationship. though the whole communication thing doesn't go too well when minho uses the last half of his shampoo in one go, but step by step. they'll get better.
things he now knows about minho: a grad student, studying high schools in urban settings, which sounds absolutely fascinating. he's from a well-enough family, if the sometimes loud conversations he has with an unidentified family member are any indication. and, this is the one that jinki sees the most, repeated in every movement, every line on his body: he strives towards unhappiness. which jinki, now, doesn't get. his newly minted self believes that he will be happy, and so, wha-la, magic trick complete, he is. to an extent, yes, but the point of it is that he thinks he can be happy, whilst minho believes that he's not meant for such a thing.
"I'll be gone all day," minho says, one thursday morning. "and maybe the night."
jinki hums over a jammed slice of toast. "friends?"
minho shakes his head and despite the roundness of his mouth, his lips are unusually straight and jinki decides to give it a go.
"are you happy?"
a smirk, one that he is already intimately acquainted with. "how is this any of your business?"
jinki frowns. "so you're not." he already knew that, he just wants to know what minho knows, if he knows the dire situation he's currently in. jinki's not sure if anything can save minho if he doesn't.
minho is still, very still and jinki can hardly see him breathing. "no," he admits and jinki breathes a sigh of relief, because even though he's unhappy, he knows it. ignorance is a path of ruin. "I'm not.
"do you know why?"
he stands, grabs his backpack and slings it over his left shoulder. "if I knew," he hisses as he grabs another piece of bread, ripping the plastic containing the loaf. "I wouldn't be so fucking miserable."
jinki sighs as the door slams shut behind minho. he's not sure if it's ignorance or something else, but he wants to save him.
*
part 2
*
a/n: so I'm leaving in maybe 8 hours for rhode island, an excellent drive of 11 hours, haven't packed yet and my wifi will either be spotty, weird, or nonexistent whilst gone but! but this is just a story explored through a series of prompts given by the community 31_days (if I knew how to link that the proper way, with the profile and comm symbol, I would, but I don't, so I can't)
the next part will be up when I get back. or, I intend for it to be written while gone and to post it when I return, so let's see how that goes.
some swearing, so maybe pg-13? I don't get ratings, but swearing occurs, so proceed if you don't mind, don't proceed if it makes you antsy
wc 1280
prompts: august 31_days
17. an alignment of the universe along moral lines
in the midst of his life, whilst locking his apartment door, jinki finds himself. he finds that inner part of him that he'd been wondering about for so long, a part that he had thought would never come. but the world will not stop for him, and so he finishes locking his door, twisting the knob to double-check, and then leaves. just because jinki finds that he knows why he does milk and then cereal, why he used to want to go to art school and why his mom used to sigh in exhaustion at the dining room table does not mean that work stops, that he doesn't have to go to the office, sit in a desk and in meetings, looking at charts showing the percentage of how their profits have increased.
in the elevator stands someone he remembers seeing vaguely before, one of those corner-of-the-eye things, and this time jinki takes the time to look at him, because this is who he is: observant. he's tall, lean and half-asleep, leaning against the wall. he glances at the elevator buttons- he's getting off at the ground floor same as him. jinki, normally focused on simply getting through life, discovers that he is worried about this stranger, a half-familiar person, and whether or not he'll be okay.
then the elevator jerks, the signal that they have arrived, and the stranger is up and gone and jinki is relieved- it's weird, these feelings, he's the conscious he never had.
19. the fire in their midst roars and crackles
minho is angry- he's normally angry, it's default-mode for him, but this is an infuriated angry, at his luck, at the world, because he never gets a break. it's one thing after another and he's never going to get anywhere, he's never going to achieve any of his childhood and teenage dreams. he's never going to go busking, he's never going to finish grad school, he's never going to make his parents proud. twenty-six, unemployed and soon to be kicked out of his apartment- what is there to be proud of?
memory is his enemy and he furiously removes himself from going down it's road.
he stalks back into the building, wondering when he's going to pack his stuff up, where he's going to put it, how angry his dad will be when he calls and asks to move back in, and runs into another person. he glances then away, going forward, but the person's voice calls him back.
"are you okay?"
no, he'd like to say, I am not okay, you know, I wouldn't mind ripping your throat out, so don't talk? instead he walks forward until the person is grasping his arm.
"I saw you, this morning, in the elevator? remember me?"
a round face, white enough teeth, hair just above his eyebrows. "no," he does say, "I do not. is there a reason why you're talking to me?"
he pauses, looks confused, searching for an answer and finds it- he shrugs. "I don't think I need one."
okay then, he thinks, a weirdo. never would have guessed, looking at the day-worn dress shirt and the briefcase slung over his shoulder, a couple papers sticking out of it. "then I don't need one to leave."
but the hand on his sleeve doesn't let go.
"look," he says through gritted teeth, "I've gotta go, I need to move out and--"
"move in with me then."
minho stares at him, a man he doesn't even know the name of, offering to share his apartment with him. so, rationally, he smirks. what a joke. "good one, man, but I'm fucking pissed and in no mood for jo--"
"it's not a joke. come with me."
so he's lead to his apartment on the fourth floor, two below his, and it lacks many things, like tables and chairs, and seems to only contain a bed and a dresser with a tv stacked on top of it. minho swallows, because this is either a really bad situation or a really good situation.
"why are you doing this?"
the man tilts his head. "because I found myself."
minho feels like a cigarette and motions to the balcony with a smoking gesture. the man assents, having a trifle of trouble with the door, but eventually the door opens and it's the two of them, minho burning up with everything going wrong and how this one small gesture of goodwill or who knows what is not enough water to put him out. he lights his cigarette, cupping it to protect it from the wind, and inhales deeply, feeling the hot nicotine fill his lungs, then exhales.
"I'll be bringing my furniture, hope you don't mind. my name's minho."
22. ignorance is the worst doctor
it's going great, well sort of great, because minho's not easy to share a life with, but jinki's sure he'll get over it. he's sure that he'll get used to a haze of nicotine, because his once-shell didn't used to smoke, but it's nice that minho brought his own things down, because jinki's not sure if he'd want to go and just splurge to buy all the essential furniture pieces he'd been doing without for quite a while.
minho is not as approachable as he wished he could be, but jinki can live with this. he doesn't mind their morning conversations, minho bleary with shaken sleep and jinki chipper because he's apparently a morning person. the conversations don't run for very long, but jinki believes that they do go splendidly, since they're actually, you know, communicating, fundamental for any sort of relationship. though the whole communication thing doesn't go too well when minho uses the last half of his shampoo in one go, but step by step. they'll get better.
things he now knows about minho: a grad student, studying high schools in urban settings, which sounds absolutely fascinating. he's from a well-enough family, if the sometimes loud conversations he has with an unidentified family member are any indication. and, this is the one that jinki sees the most, repeated in every movement, every line on his body: he strives towards unhappiness. which jinki, now, doesn't get. his newly minted self believes that he will be happy, and so, wha-la, magic trick complete, he is. to an extent, yes, but the point of it is that he thinks he can be happy, whilst minho believes that he's not meant for such a thing.
"I'll be gone all day," minho says, one thursday morning. "and maybe the night."
jinki hums over a jammed slice of toast. "friends?"
minho shakes his head and despite the roundness of his mouth, his lips are unusually straight and jinki decides to give it a go.
"are you happy?"
a smirk, one that he is already intimately acquainted with. "how is this any of your business?"
jinki frowns. "so you're not." he already knew that, he just wants to know what minho knows, if he knows the dire situation he's currently in. jinki's not sure if anything can save minho if he doesn't.
minho is still, very still and jinki can hardly see him breathing. "no," he admits and jinki breathes a sigh of relief, because even though he's unhappy, he knows it. ignorance is a path of ruin. "I'm not.
"do you know why?"
he stands, grabs his backpack and slings it over his left shoulder. "if I knew," he hisses as he grabs another piece of bread, ripping the plastic containing the loaf. "I wouldn't be so fucking miserable."
jinki sighs as the door slams shut behind minho. he's not sure if it's ignorance or something else, but he wants to save him.
*
part 2
*
a/n: so I'm leaving in maybe 8 hours for rhode island, an excellent drive of 11 hours, haven't packed yet and my wifi will either be spotty, weird, or nonexistent whilst gone but! but this is just a story explored through a series of prompts given by the community 31_days (if I knew how to link that the proper way, with the profile and comm symbol, I would, but I don't, so I can't)
the next part will be up when I get back. or, I intend for it to be written while gone and to post it when I return, so let's see how that goes.