Jumin Week
Day Six: Philautia
With you being away for the weekend, Jumin had the penthouse to himself. Naturally, he kept himself busy with work and Elizabeth the Third, but there was a glaring you-shaped hole missing… and it was getting harder to ignore.
Moving to the small, peach-colored Bose speaker, Jumin smiled fondly. Memories of you dancing wildly or delicately filled his mind — he chuckled as he recalled a spin you had been trying to master, only to land on the bed, couch, or his arms as you toppled over.
Running his fingers through the indented play button, he tilted his head. Surely, you wouldn’t mind him using your stereo…? Or listening to your Spotify playlist?
Jumin opened the account, album covers of Disney, true crime podcasts, and unfamiliar Japanese and Korean artists littering the screen. Eyes softening, he opened the playlist you created — the image you chose being of a wide-eyed Elizabeth the Third looking cluelessly and cutely towards the camera.
Jumin coughed back a laugh; 100 hours and 8 minutes worth of music you enjoyed.
Hm.
Looking back down at your speaker, he pressed the on button, familiar green and blue lights illuminating it. Immediately connecting through Bluetooth, a song boomed throughout the penthouse —
Scaring the absolute shit out of him. Scrambling to turn it down, Jumin closed his eyes and let out a huff.
If you were here, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. He could already imagine your endless laughing.
“Why she insists on turning this thing all the way up is beyond me.” With a sharp click of his tongue, he glanced at the song playing on his phone. “TiK… ToK. Tick tock. I wonder if this Kesha knows the title of her song is spelt wrong.”
With great caution, Jumin turned the volume up on your speaker. A catchy pop-bop filled his ears, but he was still… apprehensive with this kind of music. While your personality shined through catchy diddy’s and endless repetition, Jumin preferred a calmer tone. Light jazz, even scat if he was feeling adventurous.
Turning the music up a little more, he began to understand the appeal. Bobbing his head and patting his thigh with his hand to the beat, he felt himself begin to relax. It felt like you were home, just around the corner, shouting the lyrics you dedicated to memory.
Swaying his hips loosely and relaxing his arms, allowing them to sway naturally to the beat of the music, Jumin smiled. He was only taught formal forms of dance, never something as spontaneous as this. Spreading his legs wider, Jumin grabbed and threw his jacket to the couch. Feet tapping against the floor, he took a chance and started to move around the way you would — toes barely touching the floor, arms up and out to the side, hair madly swooshing in different directions.
He felt ridiculous, but free. Gaining more momentum, Jumin started hopping to the intoxicating rhythm, his long legs skipping from the kitchen to the living room. The small smile on his lips was so much bigger now; he made giddy sounds he had never made before, squeaking in his adrenaline and laughing loudly.
Body glistening with sweat, Jumin slid his tie from around his neck and shot his arm into the air, waving the tie while moving his hips from side to side. Spotting his reflection in the window, his laughter only grew, filling the penthouse with a noise it hadn’t known from him.
Now he understood why you did this everyday!
Pushing the door open with your knee, you set your luggage down and twisted your backpack off your shoulders. The blaring music instantly alerted you. “Jumin? Sweetheart?”
“Tick tock, on the clock, but the party don’t stop, no. OH, WHOA, WHOA OH.”
You clapped your hand over your mouth, muffling a laugh. That was definitely the voice of your husband.
Peeking your head around the corner, your mouth fell in amused bewilderment. Jumin’s elegant figure was no more as he stood thrusting his hips, shaking his butt, and waving his arms to music only you listened to in this relationship. You couldn’t help it; raising your phone, you snapped a quick picture of him…
The click alerting him instantaneously.
Spinning around, hair wet from his sweat, his body tensed. “Darling…!”
Wiggling your fingers, you shined your largest smile his way. “Hi ~!”
While he slammed his hand repeatedly onto the speaker to turn it off to no avail, you ran to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. Jumin hesitantly wrapped an arm around you, very aware of how sweaty he was. “Welcome… home, what is wrong with this speaker.”
You lowered the volume and buried your chin in his chest. “I see you enjoyed yourself while I was away!”
Jumin blushed deeply, his ears ringing. “Darling, it’s not what it looks like.”
“Oh, I think it’s exactly what it looks like.” Pushing his matted bangs back, you gripped his hand. “Don’t be embarrassed! Come on, Mister Fancy Pants! Show me what you can do!”
Jumin beamed, pressing his warm and wet lips against yours. And as you led him to a wider space, the drowning music filling his ears and you before his eyes, there was no better place to be.
@juminweek2019
