“live a little,” jongdae tells him, grabbing junmyeon’s wrist in one hand and his wallet in another.
there’s barely any time for junmyeon to protest before jongdae’s pulling him out of the door. they’re still dressed in their practice clothes and sticky from approximately ten consecutive hours of practice. junmyeon doesn’t have his wallet, and just a couple of thousand dollar won bills and some coins in the pockets of his jeans. he tries to wriggle away from jongdae’s grip, but that earns him a scathing look, so he stills instead, letting jongdae lead them out the back door of their apartment block.
“someone’s going to spot us soon,” he whispers as they navigate their way through narrow roads.
“no they’re not,” jongdae says, all sheer confidence that junmyeon almost believes him.
they make it to the main road when a girl from the usual gaggle that sits under the block looks up from her bowl of ramyeon and gasps. jongdae breaks into a run, pulling junmyeon along, and they sprint all the way into a tiny alley.
“that was dangerous!” junmyeon yanks his wrist away from jongdae. “i’m going back. we have practice.” he makes to turn back to the direction of their apartment block, but realises that he doesn’t really know where he is.
next to him, jongdae giggles and slides his arm into junmyeon’s. “come, let’s go eat some naengmyeon.”
*
the place jongdae leads them to is dingy and a little too cramped. junmyeon doesn’t even like naengmyeon, but jongdae orders him a bowl anyway. he stirs the contents of his bowl around and watches as jongdae slurps up the cold noodles with much enthusiastic gusto.
“you’re not eating,” jongdae points out when his bowl’s almost drained.
“i’m not hungry,” junmyeon says, pushing the bowl a little away from him.
jongdae puts down his chopsticks. his expression is unreadable, but junmyeon feels almost naked under his gaze.
“you’re not hungry, or you don’t even like naengmyeon?”
“i don’t like naengmyeon,” the words come out in a rush before junmyeon could even stop them. jongdae turns then, calling for someone.
“one set of mandu, please,” he says sweetly to the ahjumma before turning back to junmyeon. “you should have told me.” he grabs junmyeon’s rejected bowl of naengmyeon and continues eating as though nothing had happened.
junmyeon relaxes a little, though the knots in his shoulders remain tightly strung. he watches jongdae consume the naengmyeon like a starved man before the mandu comes, then picks one up and nibbles cautiously at the edge.
it’s delicious, and junmyeon finds his appetite again.
he finishes the plate of mandu before jongdae finishes the naengmyeon.
*
it’s a little past 10pm when they finally leave the small restaurant. by then seoul seems to have eased into a quiet resolution of the day, easing most of its inhabitants into their homes and under their covers. jongdae thinks it’s a good idea to take the train down to the north side of the han river to sit and watch the world go by.
“i always feel really tiny when i come here,” jongdae says after a long bout of silence. the water’s serene, still, and junmyeon thinks it’s almost a pity that jongdae’s stirring up a conversation and breaking the peace.
i’ve always felt really tiny, junmyeon keeps this to himself, but jongdae’s giving him that look again, and he buries his head in his arms to hide from the other boy.
“you don’t need to hide from me,” jongdae slides in a little closer to junmyeon. their hips are touching, and if that wasn’t close enough, he shuffles in to close the gap between them and lean his head on junmyeon’s shoulder.
somehow junmyeon feels a lot warmer than he’s been for a long time.
“i’ll always be here, hyung,” jongdae whispers. “even if you chase me away i’ll still come back.”
Re: [hg] team chen. suho/chen
there’s barely any time for junmyeon to protest before jongdae’s pulling him out of the door. they’re still dressed in their practice clothes and sticky from approximately ten consecutive hours of practice. junmyeon doesn’t have his wallet, and just a couple of thousand dollar won bills and some coins in the pockets of his jeans. he tries to wriggle away from jongdae’s grip, but that earns him a scathing look, so he stills instead, letting jongdae lead them out the back door of their apartment block.
“someone’s going to spot us soon,” he whispers as they navigate their way through narrow roads.
“no they’re not,” jongdae says, all sheer confidence that junmyeon almost believes him.
they make it to the main road when a girl from the usual gaggle that sits under the block looks up from her bowl of ramyeon and gasps. jongdae breaks into a run, pulling junmyeon along, and they sprint all the way into a tiny alley.
“that was dangerous!” junmyeon yanks his wrist away from jongdae. “i’m going back. we have practice.” he makes to turn back to the direction of their apartment block, but realises that he doesn’t really know where he is.
next to him, jongdae giggles and slides his arm into junmyeon’s. “come, let’s go eat some naengmyeon.”
*
the place jongdae leads them to is dingy and a little too cramped. junmyeon doesn’t even like naengmyeon, but jongdae orders him a bowl anyway. he stirs the contents of his bowl around and watches as jongdae slurps up the cold noodles with much enthusiastic gusto.
“you’re not eating,” jongdae points out when his bowl’s almost drained.
“i’m not hungry,” junmyeon says, pushing the bowl a little away from him.
jongdae puts down his chopsticks. his expression is unreadable, but junmyeon feels almost naked under his gaze.
“you’re not hungry, or you don’t even like naengmyeon?”
“i don’t like naengmyeon,” the words come out in a rush before junmyeon could even stop them. jongdae turns then, calling for someone.
“one set of mandu, please,” he says sweetly to the ahjumma before turning back to junmyeon. “you should have told me.” he grabs junmyeon’s rejected bowl of naengmyeon and continues eating as though nothing had happened.
junmyeon relaxes a little, though the knots in his shoulders remain tightly strung. he watches jongdae consume the naengmyeon like a starved man before the mandu comes, then picks one up and nibbles cautiously at the edge.
it’s delicious, and junmyeon finds his appetite again.
he finishes the plate of mandu before jongdae finishes the naengmyeon.
*
it’s a little past 10pm when they finally leave the small restaurant. by then seoul seems to have eased into a quiet resolution of the day, easing most of its inhabitants into their homes and under their covers. jongdae thinks it’s a good idea to take the train down to the north side of the han river to sit and watch the world go by.
“i always feel really tiny when i come here,” jongdae says after a long bout of silence. the water’s serene, still, and junmyeon thinks it’s almost a pity that jongdae’s stirring up a conversation and breaking the peace.
i’ve always felt really tiny, junmyeon keeps this to himself, but jongdae’s giving him that look again, and he buries his head in his arms to hide from the other boy.
“you don’t need to hide from me,” jongdae slides in a little closer to junmyeon. their hips are touching, and if that wasn’t close enough, he shuffles in to close the gap between them and lean his head on junmyeon’s shoulder.
somehow junmyeon feels a lot warmer than he’s been for a long time.
“i’ll always be here, hyung,” jongdae whispers. “even if you chase me away i’ll still come back.”