In a heartbeat, Myungjun becomes twenty-one again. The only thing that could possibly send him spiraling back in time is the experience of locking eyes with Jinwoo.
He and Jinwoo were once on the precipice of becoming. Jinwoo was the first time that Myungjun let himself imagine living as his most authentic self without putting the perceptions of strangers first.
Thoughts of late and too intimate movie nights flicker through Myungjun’s mind. The painful awkward almost kiss that broke their dynamic surfaces in his mind. They spent an eternity mapping each other’s faces with their eyes before Myungjun leaned forward with bated breath, and Jinwoo, well, Jinwoo flinched. There was a mumbled apology and a clumsy exit hastened by the pure mortification Myungjun felt coursing through his veins.
Myungjun pivots away from looking at Jinwoo, snapping himself back into the present. He hasn’t spoken to Jinwoo years, and it has been even longer since they saw each other last. He picks up the closest thing with determination to inspect it until Jinwoo vanishes back into his memory.
It’s a book, the faded green cover embossed with gold Cyrillic lettering.
“Hi,” he softly says from over Myungjun’s shoulder.
Myungjun should have seen this coming. He clears his throat and eeks out, “Hello.”
Jinwoo pulls the corner of his lips into a soft smile, taking a shaky breath and scratching his left eyebrow, “I was going to make a joke about you learning to read Russian or that people say you should read Tolstoy in his native language.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I just wanted to talk to you without pretext.”
Myungjun is slightly put off by Jinwoo’s gentle candor. It feels like almost no time has passed at all with Jinwoo standing so close.
Jinwoo looks at his feet for a moment; when he looks up again, he asks, “Would you like to have lunch with me?”
“Um--”
“No, you know what, I get it. Why would you? It’s been years, and you’re probably seeing someone and really happy and successful, and I’m just some guy from college. Sorry,” Jinwoo blurts out breathlessly.
Jinwoo starts to turn away and the words are out of Myungjun’s mouth before he realizes it: “I’m not seeing anyone.”
Jinwoo whips back around and stares, a familiar spark of hope in his eyes. Myungjun thought he saw that once all those years ago.
“If you’re asking me on a date, yes, I would like to have lunch with you.”
--
a/n:
hi. i emerge from my inactivity once in blue moon.
i was going to try to continue my ao3 projects, but i cannot find my motivation anywhere & have considered orphaning them.
pairing;; Kim Myungjun, MJ and Park Jinwoo, Jinjin [Myungjin]
plot;;
@astroisk said to @floofsta-x: things you interrupted me to say !!
Send me a prompt and a ship! (✻Ask Box)
Myungjun is stuck in an arranged marriage and a terrible job, but keeps faith and hope. He still has the love of his life, Park Jinwoo. It’s the little moments they have with each other that are important, and coveted, when they need to hide from the eyes of the public and Myungjun’s husband.
warnings;; fluff and angst, oh all the angst......
words;; 3,166 (3.2k)
Kim Myungjun’s feet pounded on pavement, far faster than a walk, and yet not quite a run. Thankfully, no one tried to stop him as he booked it away from the office building that was one-half of his hell. Normally, his breathing was level and deep, not shallow and heaving, like now. It was all too clear that he looked and acted like a frightened animal. The thought tickled at the back of his brain that it might attract attention he didn't want, and his nerves instantly multiplied. He wore a black mask, stretched full-width over his mouth and nose, and glasses rims to distract from the rest of his visible facial features, but it didn’t matter. Fear still had him in its cold clutches. His shifty eyes scanned everything, and he prayed nothing would be out of place. Please, please don’t let anyone recognize me.
It hadn't happened, yet. However, Myungjun's imagination couldn't help but come up with worst-case scenarios. Fantasy and reality had him trapped between them. There wasn’t much to live for anymore in his pitiful excuse of a life. Yet, he was deadly protective of this one freedom, the single thing that brought him joy. The thought that one day it might be gone nearly brought him to tears. If that happened, he wasn't sure how he’d be able to go on.
Soon, a small café and coffee shop he visited every other noon (“Socky’s Coffee”, on the corner) was in sight. Yes, the food and drinks were the best, but that wasn’t quite the reason he stopped here. Rather, he knew that a honey-brown haired boy with a wide, white smile was waiting: Park Jinwoo. Handsome, precious Park Jinwoo. The adorable trumpet player haunted his dreams. Unfortunately, by day, Myungjun wore someone else’s wedding ring, and by night, slept in their bed.
That was why he was so afraid, and rushed here so desperately. How would he explain any of this to his husband, especially if it was him who walked in and saw everything? The other man would, without a doubt, get angry, and someone would suffer. Worst case scenario, Jinwoo would walk away with bruises; that thought was the singular most terrifying thing. Myungjun could take some verbal and physical abuse, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if the love of his life got hurt.It might sound harsh, true, but it was the sad but cold truth. Myungjun’s first marriage, to a man named Jihyun, had certainly not been for love. Instead, his parents pressed him into it. To them, it was a means to an end: the unification of two companies. That mindset should have died in the feudal ages, but it lived on in the Kim family. No matter how loudly Myungjun spoke out against the arrangement, they ignored him and pushed him aside. At first, his future husband-to-be had voiced a strong distaste, too. In the end, though, neither of them had a choice. The day came and went, both of them speaking a vow to be with each other through sickness and health.
Nearby, in a white suit, stood Jinwoo. He was the only thing that kept Myungjun sane through the ceremony. The two of them had been friends since the age of ten, and remained very close through their schooling years. Neither could pinpoint when they became something more than partners in crime. At a New Year’s celebration, under red and orange fireworks, Jinwoo kissed Myungjun for the first time. They started dating three weeks later; they were both in their third year in high school. Soon after, in a warm bed and at an early hour, had been their first “I love you”. They had known they were soulmates far before that, though, almost from the beginning.
Very few people were in on their romantic relationship. If Myungjun’s parents knew, they would rip them apart. Not telling anyone had prevented heartbreak, but it had also brought around far more. Sometimes Myungjun wondered what his life would be like if they had just come out right away. Maybe he wouldn’t be wrongfully married.
However, scarier than that was what had come to light recently. After a strangely tender "date", Jihyun had admitted that he might be falling in love with Myungjun. That was news that the younger wasn’t quite sure how to handle, and so he had been avoiding it like the plague since.
At least his financial situation might not be any different. Before, Myungjun had whatever resources he could dream of at his fingertips. Being the son of a very rich businessman had its perks. However, it also made him very uncomfortable. For the longest time he had dreamed of a self-sustained life, not reliant on his parents. Six months ago, he finally took his chance and cut all ties except for communication. It was hard, but he had gathered up the courage to have a very serious talk with his family, and made sure they listened as he talked about how he wanted out. Then came the documents, proving he was ready and about to take the step. Even if they had protested, they wouldn’t have had a say.
Myungjun took a job at a office highrise, and though he liked the work, it was grueling. He should have others doing his job along with him, but the company couldn’t keep anyone hired, and his boss tended to heap work on him anyway. So he was severely spread thin. He’d applied for higher jobs, but there were always more qualified candidates. It didn’t irk him much; after all, it wasn't entirely unexpected. Still, feeling stuck was frustrating.
All those unfortunate circumstances and carefully-guarded secrets was what led up to today. Myungjun finally had the cold metal of the door in hand. Scanning the area casually one more time, he pulled it open and stepped inside. The familiar scent of good brew made him sigh in relief, and the familiarity was comforting. Marble counter, aluminum tables and chairs. Shiny pressing and steaming machines. He’d made it. His friends wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt him here.
Last, but not least, he saw the screen set up in the corner, which could only mean one thing. As he jogged over to it, a familiar face poked out and lit up at the sight of him. In seconds, Myungjun found himself in a strong pair of arms, breath mingling with none other than Park Jinwoo’s. “You’re eager today,” he gave his boyfriend a shy, bright smile and squeezed his forearm.
“Of course I am. It’s like, the worst form of torture to not see you for five days.”
Right. They had missed their last two meetings because Jihyun had butted in. Sometimes he showed up right before lunch break and insisted on going out. It had never been as often as lately, though, which made Myungjun worried. He was also keeping a similar schedule to Jinwoo’s meetings--raising concerns that he had found out about the tryst.
Jinwoo’s eyes scanned Myungjun like he was the most precious thing on Earth. The older boy couldn’t help but melt under the gaze, and all his worries suddenly seemed small. The hand that wasn’t on his waist held his own. At least the handsome boy had the tact to lead them both out of sight before doing anything more. As soon as they were behind the screen, Jinwoo reached across to gently pull down Myungjun's mask. The older chuckled as he was attacked by kisses. His eyes fluttered closed as he returned the passion and initiated a deeper, more tender lip lock.
He really had missed Jinwoo. When he was here, nothing out of this café mattered. Nothing out of this embrace, either.
But even good things had to come to an end. “Our coffee’s going to get cold,” Myungjun chuckled, and Jinwoo reluctantly let go. Indeed, there were two cups of steaming caramel latte waiting for them. They sat down at their respective places, and got comfy. Their knees touching under the table was warming and familiar. Also, the fantastic brew melted whatever worries their hearts still carried.
“Hey, guys.” A smiling, silver-haired boy appeared at their side: Park Minhyuk, but better known as Rocky. He was originally a friend of Jinwoo’s, and one-half of the coffee shop ownership. “Good to see you here together, at last.”
“It’s nice to be back,” Myungjun admitted, chuckling and rubbing a hand through the hair on the back of his head. “I miss you guys a lot, too, when I can’t come.”
“Even me?” A youthful tone cut in, making the three of them jump a bit. Promptly, a baby-faced kid popped up beside Rocky, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling widely.
“Yes, even you, silly beagle,” Myungjun chuckled. That was typical of the other half of Socky’s: Yoon Sanha. He was young and tender at seventeen years old, and still in high school. Sometimes (well, actually, most of the time), he acted like it too. Everyone knew he was super smart and capable, though, and pulled his weight in running the shop.
Rocky shoved his younger business partner aside, muttering something about cleaning the counters. He complied, but not without a quick eye roll and quiet grumble. Finally, the former let out a sigh and turned to address Myungjun and Jinwoo again. “So, either of you hungry today? I know I am after having to deal with Sanha,”
The dig was just loud enough for the younger to hear. From where he was standing, leaning across the counter, he turned his head toward his friends and stuck out his tongue.
“Ah, I’ll have a sandwich. Do you have any of your heavenly chicken salad?” Jinwoo piped up hopefully,
“You’re in luck. We do. How about you, MJ-hyung?”
“No, I’m fine, thanks.”
As Rocky walked away, Jinwoo’s eyes filled with worry. He reached across the table to take his boyfriend’s warm hand. “Baby, are you sure? I’ll get you something if you need it.”
“I had a big breakfast, don’t worry.” Myungjun fibbed, patting his tummy. Even before the stress of all this, he often skipped meals. It wasn’t quite healthy, yeah, but he didn’t see a reason to eat if he wasn't hungry.
Much to the older’s relief, Jinwoo relaxed. A conversation kicked up in no time at all, and settled into a comfortable rhythm. That was another thing about being together. Though they were from different social classes, and always had been, their relationship was effortless. Of course there had been disagreements and differences, but what couple lacked those? What was important was that they could communicate. Both of them held that ability above everything.
If only I could just talk with my family and husband, I wouldn’t be in this mess, and the wedding band on my hand might be Jinwoo’s…
The bitter thought must have been too much to take, and so escaped between sips of latte. “Ah--I’m sorry it has to be like this. We shouldn’t have to meet in secret, hide behind--”
“Whoa, whoa, no,” The younger boy cut in, interrupting. He tightened his grip on the hand he was holding, and reached out for the other. “Myungjun, look at me.” MJ obeyed, hesitantly, flashing slightly wet eyes. “If I didn’t believe this was worth my time, do you think I would be here?”
Quickly, Myungjun understood what he was getting at, and shook his head slowly. “No, you’d probably be in some practice room, playing around on your piccolo trumpet.” A laugh cracked from his throat.
“Exactly.” Jinwoo scooted his chair around the table and pulled his boyfriend into his lap. He wiped a stray tear that had streaked down his soft cheek, and gave him a peck on the lips. “I love you, Kim Myungjun. That hasn’t changed in the years we’ve been together, and you being stuck in that terrible marriage hasn’t swayed me. I really wish that the gold ring you're wearing was mine, but…I’m willing to wait however long it takes, and support you. All I need is to know that you love me, too.”
“Until the end,” Myungjun whispered and smiled brightly. It broke through his sad countenance and tears, and the two of them leaned in to kiss passionately again. They moved slowly, unhurried, defying the cruel flow of the minutes.
Soon, though, Rocky was back with Jinwoo’s sandwich. He cleared his throat as he stepped near and set it down. Blushing wildly, the two lovers broke apart and separated, except for their hands. The younger boy scooted back around the table to start to eat. Myungjin could only stare lovingly at him for a while. “I’m so excited for this next weekend, baby…”
Jinwoo wiped his mouth with a napkin, and gave a grin as he sat up. “Me too, so much, you have no idea. Are you clear to go?”
“Yeah. Bin has agreed help me, and is taking care of making sure Jihyun doesn't suspect anything. He's even faking some posts on my social media.”
“I’m glad. That’s really cool, hopefully your husband won’t call around, asking questions, that way.” Jinwoo took a bite of sandwich and sip of coffee. “Didn’t you say Moon Bin might not help even if you asked, though? How’d you end up roping him in?”
At this, Myungjun smiled slyly. “It actually wasn’t too bad. I just had to find his weakness.”
“Oh,” the younger retorted, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you had that kind of thing in you. What’d you do? Buy him some cufflinks? Slide over a hundred bucks? Five hundred?”
“What? Oh my God, Jinwoo, no, nothing like that.” Myungjun’s eyes went wide. “No, all I needed was a soft voice and a little bit of empathy.”
“Ok, I’m intrigued. Go on.”
“Well, last week I stopped by Jihyun’s office to take something to him. As I was on the elevator up, it stopped three floors below the company’s. The doors opened, and I just caught the tail end of a kiss. One half of the couple was Bin, but the other I didn’t know. He was handsome, though, and there was so much love in his eyes. Bin blushed when he noticed that the elevator wasn’t empty, of course. The other guy laughed and pulled him in for another peck before letting him go.
“Of course I was curious. I also had a plan forming in my head...if Bin was in love, he’d understand our predicament.” Myungjun took another sip, stalling and trying to figure out how to go on. “So the next day I called the most gossipy woman on Jihyun’s floor. Of course, she knew about Moon Bin and his boyfriend. Apparently his name is Lee Dongmin and they’ve been together only a few months. But they’re head-over-heels for each other.
“It only took two more days to gather up my words and go back to the office. I chose a time I knew Jihyun would be out, and Bin would be in. I asked for his help, but I was straight with him. Told him about you and me being together for so long. The arranged marriage. How I don’t love my husband, and just want to be with you.
“As I thought he might be, he was angry and disbelieving, wondering how I could be such a double-faced person. So that’s when I brought up him and Dongmin. I begged him to put himself in my shoes. How he would feel if he had to see his lover behind everyone’s backs and go home at night to someone who meant nothing?
“That’s how he agreed to help. Ah, but Jinwoo, you should have seen him light up as he planned the fake business trip and set up some simple things to cover my tracks. He likes strategizing like that. And also I think, by the end, he truly was sympathetic. He’s even planning on giving us a few more hours together by faking a delayed flight. I never would have thought of that on my own.”
“Wow,” Jinwoo rested his chin in hand and rubbed slow circles into the back of Myungjun’s hand with his thumb.
“Yeah. I can’t believe that we’re going to have five days to ourselves.” Myungjun beamed. His heart fluttered wildly at the idea of having alone time with Jinwoo, and sleeping in a bed together. They hadn’t had a chance to since high school.
“Me neither. I’ve got pit orchestra off, the hotel room booked, and everything.” The younger boy was smiling widely back in return. If Myungjun could have stayed here forever, he would have. This was brightness, happiness, peace; all that he lacked in his crazy, unfortunate life. The thought of one week bathed in that beauty seemed to be too good to be true.
Silence reigned for a few minutes, before the older had a thought. His whisper brought some semblance of reality back. “How about...the other plan? Where are you on it?”
Sadness tinged Jinwoo’s voice. “It’s slow...but I’m making progress, and that’s better than nothing.”
“Same,” Myungjun sighed. However, he was dead set on keeping his heart buoyed, and his eyebrows furrowed in determination. “But we’ll be able to do it one day, I know. Money won’t stop us, or ties, or other people...we’ll be free to make a life together.”
In that moment, both were about to cry. Jinwoo was the first to crack, though, a wet streak coursing down his cheek. Myungjun was almost instantly in his lap again, kissing the salty tears away. Whispering promises, hopes and dreams into the younger's ear worked miracles, too. Eventually, he just leaned into Jinwoo, resting his head on his shoulder and stroking his back comfortingly.
After some time like this, Jinwoo reached up to rub a hand through Myungjun’s hair. Gently, he pulled him back so they were face to face. His palms held his boyfriend’s cheeks, thumbs feeling the soft skin. They searched each other's faces, gazes lingering on lips. Then, a long moment later, they leaned in for a tender kiss.
Again, Myungjun never wanted to leave. But when they next broke, his gaze flicked to his watch, and he gave a yelp. “Oh--shit, I have to go, I’m just gonna manage to make it back.”
Reluctantly, they let each other go. Myungjun resituated his mask, and the glasses, as well, before giving Jinwoo’s hand one last squeeze. “See you Friday...I love you so, so much.”
“Love you too. Bye for now.”
As he reached the door, Myungjun looked back one last time to see his boyfriend standing there. He was leaning against the screen, waving at him. The older man's heart filled with an indescribable warmth. God forbid the day that smile isn’t my sustenance.
I’ve perfected the art of running away and straight to your arms.
jinjin/mj, meet-cute, too relatable on the mj front, ice cream
~200 words
Honestly, it’s awkward.
He should have expected this during finals, but somehow, Jinwoo wasn’t prepared. The man four feet away from him, a fellow hollow soul sucked into the cramming void, is sobbing hysterically on his knees. The kid dropped his ice cream cone on the sidewalk.
Jinwoo sighs, looking at his untouched scoop of french vanilla ice cream in its cup. What moves him to act, Jinwoo doesn’t quite know. Perhaps, he wants to end the kid’s suffering or his own humiliation by proximity. Maybe he thinks that the stressed crier is cute, or his compassion for others outweighed his desire to bury his feelings in a fresh scoop of ice cream. Whatever it is, Jinwoo crouches down and shoves his ice cream into the hands of the man having a level four stress meltdown.
The crying abruptly strops and a ragged breaths take their place. He looks at Jinwoo, Jinwoo looks at him.
“Marry me,” he softly proposes to Jinwoo.
Jinwoo cracks a smile, “At least tell me your name first.”
“Myungjun.”
(The second time Myungjun proposes, there is still ice cream, but Jinwoo is the one crying.)
---
and now i will disappear back into the void from whence I came.
It is unfair, that is exactly what it is. Myungjun cannot believe that Jinwoo has the audacity to pull his mouth into a half smirk. He imagines he might look the slightest bit starstruck, but how is a boy supposed to look when Jinwoo leveled-up from his perfect ten into an earth-shattering twelve on Myungjun’s very scientific attractiveness scale?
He knows that Jinwoo agreed to model for Dongmin’s something-or-other; he generally tunes out when Jinwoo starts gushing over Dongmin. (He’s prone to jealousy, sue him.) He just-- he didn’t think that Jinwoo would come to dinner all made up.
"Need some water? You seem a little red,” Jinwoo notes the obvious flush in Myungjun’s cheeks with a teasing lilt in his voice as he nudges the water glass toward Myungjun.
Myungjun clears his throat. Honestly, it’s just a forehead. It shouldn’t have this big of an impact on his heart health. He has seen Park Jinwoo is every imaginable scenario; he has seen Jinwoo coiffed and a complete mess. So what? Jinwoo styled his bangs and wore a button-down shirt; Myungjun isn’t seventeen anymore, his brain should have a more mature and sophisticated response than: AMAZING, ATTRACTIVE, KISS HIM NOW.
“No,” Myungjun replies unconvincingly. “Why would you even ask that?”
“You just, you know,” Jinwoo motions with his hand, “seemed thirsty.”
Myungjun does a mental spit-take. In an effort to regain a shred of his dignity, he overcorrects, “I have never been more hydrated.”
Jinwoo smiles, “It’s okay to acknowledge that I clean up nice.”
Myungjun crosses his arms like a petulant child and looks away from Jinwoo. He scoffs, “Who are you trying to impress?”
“You,” Jinwoo hums, flipping through the menu casually.
Dammit. Myungjun walked straight into that one. He huffs, “How can you be so shameless?”
“My shame was in my heart when you stole it.”
“Park Jinwoo!”
Jinwoo sighs, “Tell me I look exceptionally cute today, and I’ll stop intentionally making your heart flutter.”
Myungjun pouts, “You look very nice right now. Don’t do it again.”
Jinwoo raises an eyebrow, “Why?”
“You’re only allowed to make my heart flutter.”
--
myungjin trash rises from the dead to post garbage. join me.
