#het!

[shiftythrifting]

Give it up for communism costers!

[quagmireisadora]

[Kibum / Minjung] Lever Arch

The roof of the hangar was high, wires and maintenance pipes suspended from under its ridge. A lone jet stood in the middle of the large space.

"There she is," Kibum murmured when they were close enough to run their hands on the black and yellow paint. "She's a fighter. Not too big, but she's powerful and--" On cue, a jet took to the air outside, the sound reverberating against the metal sides of the hangar.

"And noisy," Kibum finished with a chuckle when the noise died.

Minjung chuckled with him, taking her hands off her ears. "It looks new," she said of the Black Eagle. "Have you flown one before?"

"For some training," he nodded. "These are brand new. They're meant for a public unveiling this month," he explained, walking around from one wing to the other. "At the 70th anniversary event? You should come see it."

"I'll take that as an invitation," she raised her eyebrows and smiled when he nodded. "So is that where the missile goes?" she pointed at an empty bracket.

"Yep," Kibum patted the place. He turned after a moment and beckoned her to the steps leading up into the cockpit. "Come here."

She took his hand and ascended, stepping over the side and settling into the seat with a look of wonder in her eyes. "Wah... this looks so complicated!" she motioned to the controls. "You can actually fly something like this...!"

He found a helmet sitting nearby, carefully placing it on her head. "Maybe you won't need me to," he grinned, leaning in and clicking the seatbelt across her waist. It made a sound loud enough to echo around them. "You look like you could do it all by yourself."

She adjusted her hair and grinned back, hands on the control stick. With a comically fierce expression, she made flying and shooting sounds, making them both laugh. "Wah, this is so cool, Kibum ssi~!"

He giggled, resting his chin on the edge of the cockpit. "You look cool in it," he complimented.

She blushed at that, her smile remaining bright. Clearing her throat she pointed at a few dials and gauges. "So tell me what these are."

"Thats the radar," he answered easily. "That's the pressure gauge. That's the rear display, and that's the missle engagement panel. And that--" he leaned in, tapping a lever close to her leg. "That's reserve fuel," he finished, his hand trailing over her stocking on its way back to his chin. "Flies like a knife through butter," he murmured, looking at her face.

She blushed even darker, but her smiled sustained. "Hmm. High praise," she nodded. "I've heard you armed forces types often prefer your guns and planes to women," she teased.

"Hmm, there's only one way to know for sure, isn't there?" he teased back, brushing hair off her cheek.

Minjung's eyes went to his mouth a moment before returning to his dark gaze. "I suppose you're right," she mumbled.

Kibum sighed happily. "If the major saw you right now he'd rally for more women to join the force himself," he joked, fingers dancing on her cheek.

"Careful what you wish for, Kibum ssi," she said in a flirty tone even as she tilted her head into his palm. "I might enlist if that happens."

He blinked in surprise for a moment before his grin returned. He leaned in, tilting his head as he did. "You'd cause so much trouble," he whispered between their mouths before pecking the space above her soft lips. "You'd start a war."

She gave him a soft laugh, her arms coiling around his neck. "Imagine that," she began, pecking him back on his lips and chin and jaw. "Choi Minjung, the woman that launched a thousand ships."

He nodded, closing his eyes and nudging their noses together. "I do think about that," he admitted. "All the time."

[quagmireisadora]

[Taemin / Minjung] Patient

He looked at her for a long minute of silence before muttering an, "I shouldn't have let you go."

He said it in such a small voice, she would've asked him to repeat himself had she not been listening for every change in his breath. "You what...?"

"I... I fucked up," he added helplessly, like he'd been waiting a long time to speak up but now that the moment had arrived, his words failed him. "I fucked up when I didn't stop you, when I didn't do anything to make you stay. And then... and then I cme back thinking I'll make it up to you if I can help with--" he vaguely gestured towards the restaurant, towards where the other man sat. "And now that I'm here I... I don't wont to be. I don't want to help. I don't--" he gulped. "I don't want to give you away. I want you to... to come back. To me."

Minjung's anger flared for a moment. "You better watch yourself--" she began to warn.

"No," Taemin shook his head to clarify, stepping closer and speaking over her. "No. Listen. I don't expect you to really come back. I can see you like this Kibum guy, I can see he makes you happier than I ever could, I can see that," he sighed. "I don't expect you to come back at all," he waved his hands in clear denial. "But I still want it," he murmured in the few inches between them, breath fogging from the cold. "I still want you, when I know I can never have you."

Minjung was stunned. All she could manage was a feeble, "Taem ah..."

"Yeah," he nodded, chuckling despite himself. "Yeah, I know. You don't have to say it."

"Say what," she prompted, closing the distance between them with another step. Her long gloved fingers reached for his small hand. "Don't pretend to know what I'm thinking."

"I'm not. I really know what you'll say," he insisted. "I know I mean nothing to you anymore. Just because we hang out as friends... just because you still laugh at my jokes, I should stop presuming things are magically healed in there," he nodded in the direction of her chest. "I know I fucked you up bad. I know that--"

"Don't pretend," she repeated, squeezing his hand. "You don't know what I want to say, so don't pretend like you do."

He gave a short mirthless laugh as searched her face for a clue, for more. But he found nothing. Nothing but her perfect, beautiful brown eyes. And as she continued to stare at him with a nameless expression, he cupped her cheek with his free hand, stroking arcs over it with his thumb. In a sudden impulse he leaned their foreheads together. " I should've loved you more," he whispered before letting go and walking away.

Minjung trembled in her place, unsure if it was the cold making her shake or the sight of him leaving. This wasn't like him, she realised as his back grew farther and his shape grew smaller. This was unprecedented. Taemin never admitted his weaknesses, much less his mistakes. This was nothing like she'd ever known him to do in the five years they'd been together.

He must've really meant it, then.

[quagmireisadora]

"Why didn't you stay," he asks softly from the mouth of the cave. His eyes drink her now as they had in his dream, so many nights ago. She is not made of lamps, but there is an unreachable depth in her gaze, just as he remembers. "Why didn't you take me with you..." His regret swims across his face and he looks close to tears. He looks close to breaking.

Gwiboon sits up for comfort and studies the delta back. "Come here," she murmurs after a while, patting her bedding. "Come here, come to me."

Minho shakes his head for a moment, but when she reaches her hand out he cannot resist the distance any longer. He takes hold of her palm and presses it to his chest. "Why didn't you take me with you," he whispers. "Why didn't you just--" he shudders as he crouches next to her, his head to the ground as if in prayer.

Gwiboon runs her free hand over his hair, petting him and running her fingers over the stars of his ears. "So much love..." she wonders. "Where did you find so much love to give. Hmm?" she asks softly. "Come closer," she urges.

He looks up at her and gulps. "I..." he begins, his mind on the pack, on the alpha he must serve, on the duties he must complete, on the work that must be done for the balance that must be maintained. "If we are found, I--"

She hushes him. "We are not mates," she caresses his jaw with adoration. "We are not here because we must be. We are here because we want to be," she smiles and a silent question goes between them then, answered when he crawls closer and holds his arms around her.

"I want to be here," he repeats against her full moon peircings. "I... choose this."

She strokes his back, his sides, his arms. He is sweet and gentle, even when he does nothing. He is soft and kind, even when he is silent. He is loving, even when he doesn't have to be. She kisses the side of his face and he gasps like this is the first kiss ever bestowed on him. She kisses his shoulder and he looks close to sobbing. She presses their nose together and waits for him settle between her legs, helping him move, helping him realise this isn't a ceremony, this isn't a ritual. This is simply her, simply him. This is just them, no more.

He gives her his every breath that night, and when his eyes begin to grow heavy, he feels her arm snake around his waist to pull him closer. "You are not mine. I am not yours," she whispers. "But you have given me your heart. I take it for cherishing."

He blushes at the words, nodding silently as he holds her to his chest.

[quagmireisadora]

[Junghee / Minho] Draw a Blank

난 깨달았어

The wedding was a quiet affair. Both their families brought presents, gave their blessings and ate their meals. They smiled for the cameras, smiled for one another, smiled for themselves because what else is one supposed to feel on their wedding day? What other emotion is there to sustain if not a long and constant joy, of be surrounded by their closest relatives and the people they love.

The people they love... Did Junghee really love Minho, she wondered later that night as she showered to clean out the confetti and hair product. She supposed, as she lathered her hands and scrubbed the make-up off her face, that she did feel warm inside when Minho smiled at her or made silly jokes or gave in to her tantrums. She supposed she adored how much they had in common even though they were two different people. She supposed she enjoyed seeing him blush when she complimented his attempts at cooking, or curled into his lap while they watched movies in the living room. She supposed she liked those moments.

Of course, they fought plenty. They fought when Minho got too clingy, too demanding. They fought when he thought Junghee’s clothes were too revealing or her mannerisms with other men were too flirtatious. They fought when he didn’t pay attention or when he grew sullen at her disagreements or when he worked overly long hours at the office when Junghee went out of her way to plan romantic dates for them. They fought, like any other couple. They had doubts, they had arguments, they made mistakes. They were nowhere close to perfect or ideal.

But Junghee asked herself, as she wrapped a towel around her head and stepped out of the steaming bathroom, what is an ideal relationship? Is it not one where they love each other despite their squabbles? Is it not one where love exists in its entirety, and not in sudden bursts that dissipate when the two of them part ways? Is an ideal relationship not one where a separation would still not be enough to erase how much they loved each other?

She hummed low, agreeing with herself.

난 깨달았어

Minho looked up from his phone when she came into sight, and his face lit up when their eyes met. “Hi~” he said in a weird giddy way. 

Junghee snorted and walked over, sitting down next to him on the long couch. “What’s made you so happy, Mr. Choi?” she put an arm around his shoulders and searched for something to watch on TV. He followed her every movement, every breath like she was delivering a sermon and he was blessed to be there. He was devoted, she knew. He would never cheat on her, he would never leave her for another woman. She knew this with more certainty that most anything else in her life. That’s why she’d agree to marry him in the first place.

“Hmm... you, Mrs. Kim,” he answered, then giggled at his own joke like he’d been clever and hilarious. 

Junghee made a ridiculed sound but pulled him in to kiss his forehead. “My pretty baby,” she cooed, continuing to shower her affection all over his face until he laughed and tried to move away from her. He was sweet, she thought. He liked attention and he liked being held and cared for--something he often voiced a need for when he was drunk beyond rational behavior. She liked that he depended on her for that, even if she couldn’t give him much else besides. There were inadequacies in her, she would admit this readily. There were things she did that made her less than perfect, less than what Minho deserved. But he had chosen her, it blew her mind then as it did now, that he had chosen to spend his life with her. Like her inadequacies meant nothing to him.

As they watched the film, he slowly drooped to lay his head on her lap. She played with his hair and studied him watching the screen with rapt attention. He was handsome; she had not thought of him as anything else ever since the first time they met. He’d had glasses then, and wore braces on his lower jaw. His hair was always long and shaggy and his words were touched by a strong lisp. That was seven years ago, and Minho was very different now. He was older, more mature. The glasses were gone, the braces were gone. Even the hair was always clipped short these days. But he was handsome from the start, in her eyes. He was adorable and kind and handsome regardless of what he looked like. 

난 깨달았어

“What’s made you so happy, Mrs. Kim?” he repeated her question to her as she smiled while doing the dishes.

When she looked up to find him eating a banana and still flashing her that wobbly, silly grin, she splashed a little water on him. “You, Mr. Choi,” she answered in turn, like the words had been waiting to come between them. Like that would always remain her answer no matter what they went through, within the relationship and outside it. That was the answer in her mind and then on her tongue. And when he beamed at that, Junghee felt an unrivaled warmth in her chest.

[quagmireisadora]

"Shame we have to leave so soon," Gwiboon mumbled that night.

Jonghyun hummed as he packed his bags but didn't say anything. His mind was far away. They had come here with the hope that they could revive their marriage. They had come here with the feeling that returning to a familiar place with happy memories would make them happy again, with each other and with themselves. They had found more than that, of course. Much more. And he'd been grateful at first. But he'd slowly come to realise that his love of the new and the novel only drew him farther away from what was permanent in his life. What really mattered to him. He knew now that even finding something unbelievable and fantastic couldn't change the fact that Gwiboon had decided to spend her life with him. Her entire life, nearly every single waking minute of her existence. He had realised that he hadn't treated her with the love and respect she deserved for it, he had instead simply taken it as a fact of their lives and walked away from her without turning around to see what it did to her. And then... then when the threat of her disappearing, when the threat of her finding her own new and novel things loomed within inches of his face. Then he realized how much she meant to him. How much losing her would destroy him. How much he belonged to her already and that walking away was only temporary, only a short-term thing. He couldn't extricate himself from their bond, he couldn't simply undo what they had by signing a piece of paper. This was forever. They were forever.

"I'm glad we came here, this year," she smiled at him from the bed, leaning back onto her hands and yawning tiredly. "I'm glad you talked me into it."

He smiled back, watching her with adoration. "I'm glad you were convinced."

[quagmireisadora]

[OT5] Build

They were all huddled in the cramped space of her cubicle. She'd asked them to convene through the intranet chat window, sending nothing more than a "we need to talk" to each one until they were all there. And now they were, and now she sat on a chair in front of them, as if under interrogation.

"I... I want to have sex," Minjung began timidly, finishing in a nod. "With one of you."

"I'll do it," Taemin raised his hand and said without pause, getting his chair kicked by an irritated Kibum. He rolled until he met with a partition and wailed in mock-pain, post-it notes falling from the impact.

Jonghyun let out a short ridiculing laugh and looked around them as if searching for hidden cameras. But when he found none he looked back at Minjung with shy awkwardness. "M-Minjung ssi..." he said and said no more.

"Jung ah," Kibum took his turn. "Is... is everything OK?" he asked with concern.

"Everything's great, she's finally going to get some," Taemin called, still acting like he was stuck on the partition.

"Sir, if you don't shut up, I'm going to duct tape your head to a wall," Kibum threatened. Taemin wheeled his chair back to them, then, making a face at the elder.

Minjung massaged her head, looking everywhere but at them in embarrassment. "I... I just--never mind this was a bad idea," she suddenly gave up and made to dismiss them. Suddenly she wasn’t sure what she’d been thinking, asking them to come here, in the middle of university, where anyone could hear her, anyone could spread rumors that would hurt her when they did their rounds and made their way back to her, full-circle. She cursed herself internally.

"Hey, hey, Minjunggie," Jinki finally spoke, rolling to her and taking her hand. "What's going on?" he asked in the kindest voice. "What're you thinking about?"

"I'm just... really tired, alright?" Minjung sighed, shook her head and tried to keep the tears at bay. "I really don't want to be like this anymore."

"B-be like what?" Jonghyun inquired softly.

"Not hot," Taemin supplied before she could answer, blocking a smack to the back of his head. "Right? That's what this is about isn't it? Small boobs and mediocre ass?"

"Man, seriously..." Kibum rolled his eyes. "Why are we friends with you?"

"What, it's the truth, she's always talking about it on her blog, you know this!" Taemin defended easily. "Shouldn't we be tackling the problem head-on?"

"Time and place, Taem ah," Jinki said with exasperation, then wheeled himself back to his original place near Minjung's computer. "Look, we want to help," he addressed her again, as always the reasonable one of their group. "But... but this is probably not a good way to do it."

"I--I agree," Jonghyun nodded tentatively. "Someone... someone could get hurt like this."

"Why do you want to do this?" Kibum tilted his head and asked, his face filled with worry. "Having sex... it doesn't change anything. If you don't have confidence in yourself, sex is only going to make you feel,” he shrugged, waiting for the word to come to him. And when it did, it sounded hurtful, even in his kind deep voice. “Empty."

"And... and if it's the first time--" Jonghyun added with more confidence now. "I think Minjung ssi won't like it."

"But that's why she came to us, isn't it?" Taemin concluded, and three pairs of eyes looked at him like he had suddenly turned radioactive green. "She came to us because she knows," he gestured in explanation, then looked at her downcast eyes. "We'll be careful."

"That's... that's not a good--" Jonghyun shook his head. "Minjung ssi, I--I don't think I can help you with this," he withdrew, holding his hands up between them. "I'm... honestly, I'm scared. It could hurt you, it could break our friendship. It could make you feel... w-worse. And I don't want any of those things."

Minjung wanted to convince him somehow, say no, oppa, those things won't happen, just do this with me and I will never ask you for anything again. I will never speak a word of this to anyone ever again, she wanted to tell him. Tell them. But she wasn't sure what she wanted anymore. She wasn't sure what her head was doing to her, why her heart ached every time she looked in the mirror and saw the blanks in it. Saw the spaces unfilled and the pauses unspoken. She ran her fingers through her hair, sighing as the tightness in her chest traveled up to her throat.

Taemin took initiative and rolled his chair next to hers, putting and arm around her shoulder. "Look at these wimps," he pointed to the other three men in the cubicle, who all showed him some form of annoyance at the comment. But he went on. "Jinki hyung is out of the question," he explained. “He’s like this now but when he’s got you under him, who knows what he could do?” he moved his arms wildly. “I mean we all know he’s got that monster in his pants--”

“You better behave yourself,” Jinki reprimanded, but said no more to defend himself.

“Jonghyunnie hyung is probably going to cry if you ask him again,” Taemin went on with his systematic elimination. “Or ask you to marry him first. So he’s a no as well.”

“I--I wouldn’t cry!” Jonghyun pouted, but said nothing about the rest of the accusation and hung his head low.

“That leaves me and Baem,” Taemin continued, kicking Kibum back belatedly. “And if you pick him, heh. He’s not going to do it for nothing,” he shook his head, holding a hand up at the protesting elder. “He’ll want a relationship, he’ll want you to be with him forever. And that’s not what you’re looking for.” 

Kibum opened his mouth in protest, but then closed it after a thoughtful moment.

“So,” Taemin came back to his original proclamation. “I’ll do it,” he said with far less enthusiasm and far more sincerety when he looked at her, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair on her shoulder. “I’ll do what you want, I won’t ask for anything, and I won’t go around boasting about it.” His voice was low, but gentle. He ran a soothing circle on her back before withdrawing his touch, turning his chair to face her. “I’ll help. You decide everything.”

Minjung blinked back a few tears. “And you--” she wiped a hand under her nose. “You don’t think you’ll regret it?”

“What’s to regret?” he replied softly. “It’s for you.”

“But... but if it doesn’t fix anything?”

“Then we’ll keep trying,” Taemin insisted. “I’ll help until you have what you want.”

Minjung sniffed and dabbed a tissue at her face. He was serious. He wasn’t joking around like he usually did. He wasn’t making fun of her, he was actually serious about this. She felt a warmth climb up her neck to her face. This wasn’t right, she knew. Using him for validation, using him to feel good about herself, using him for something she needed to fix by herself... and the look he gave her said he knew. He understood full well what this would be. That he would still do it regardless, was... what was it? What did it say? About him? About them? What did it say about all the time they’d spent together? All the years they’d been building their friendship?

“If--if you’re sure,” Minjung mumbled, scratching the back of her neck.

“One hundred percent.” Taemin smiled.