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Park Jinwoo is very proud of the relationship that's he's come to call his own. From the moment he first stuttered out his confession, receiving a flying tackle hug before he could finish, he's had full confidence in his love for Kim Myungjun, never regretting a moment.
Yep, never regretti-
"Jinwoo, come on!" The sentence is loud, sudden, and punctuated with a slamming that echoes primarily in Jinwoo's ears, but also in the parking garage. The passenger seat is now empty.
Jinwoo is the youngest in his family, but he has good siblings who taught him how to think before acting and how to make the best of a situation. He's become really good at taking a quiet moment to plan out his next move, and that's made him a very levelheaded person.
He has to push all that aside though, because Myungjun is getting alarmingly far for someone who refuses to join him at the gym.
Myungjun scrapes by, barely avoiding collision with a woman and her cart, so Jinwoo resists his previous urge to say a prayer—head on the steering wheel—and instead runs after his boyfriend.
He mutters a quick apology to the woman, barely registering the sympathetic smile he's given before approaching the automatic doors.
"Myungjun, hold on!" Jinwoo catches up; thanks only to the gigantic, glittering space of the entrance that's caught Myungjun's attention, effectively freezing him in place.
It's sort of cute in a Myungjun way, but people are now attempting to swerve large furniture pieces around him. And eventually, someone won't be able to see the gawking man-child in the center of the floor, and Jinwoo would prefer to keep his boyfriend in tact thank you very much.
So before Myungjun becomes pancake material, Jinwoo takes his hand and drags him over to grab a dolly. Myungjun trails along, grabbing a pencil and about five paper tape measures—you never know, Jinwoo—before taking off into the beginning of the furniture maze.
Jinwoo trudges behind, dolly in hand. He can already feel how exhausting this trip will be, despite the subdued smile tugging on his lips. Myungjun doesn't go shopping (Or, as Myungjun complains, Jinwoo doesn't let him go shopping). Not for clothes, groceries, and especially not furniture.
It's just that Myungjun gets a little...scatterbrained at times, and they don't really have the money for purchases that looked cool and would probably look great in the house, Jinwoo. So Jinwoo goes alone, any loneliness quickly filled by the serenity of peace and quiet.
In cases where he's in desperate need of someone to help out, he's got Dongmin on his cell, and he's too nice a person to refuse. Especially if that means Dongmin gets to come home to a clingy, sleepy Bin who's tired himself out after a day of wreaking havoc with Myungjun. So really, it's a win-win situation (and Jinwoo doesn't have to feel guilty about taking advantage of his friends).
The only problem with Jinwoo's usual arrangement is that this table is needed tonight, for a party planned long in advance. It's Sanha's birthday and things had been set to go, with the only fluke being the coffee table's destruction last night. (Don't ask.) So now Jinwoo is on a last minute shopping emergency while Bin and Dongmin continue their part of dragging Sanha around town, keeping him far from Jinwoo's place.
(Jinwoo's place which at some point became Jinwoo and Myungjun's place and eventually just became the place; Jinwoo doesn't blink anymore waking up to six toothbrushes in his bathroom, Myungjun sleeping in Bin's shirt, and someone digging through his pantry—front door wide open—far before the sun would rise.)
Even though the others had their parts of the plan—helpfully named 'Operation: Baby's Birthday' by Myungjun—Jinwoo had still tried calling Dongmin for help, receiving a definite negative.
("Sanha's getting more suspicious," Dongmin whispers, voice crackling with low static. "I think he's getting on to us. We called Minhyuk in for back up."
Minhyuk who was supposed to start decorating the apartment already. Which meant Jinwoo was going to have to make the trip even quicker to compensate. Great.
"Come on, Dongminnie..." Jinwoo's close to begging now; it doesn't matter that he's a full grown adult. If it works, it works, and he can practically hear the pensive frown on Dongmin's lips.
"Well..."
"Hyung!" A voice calls from the background. Jinwoo can hear Dongmin gasp before the voices become increasingly muffled and distant. "Binnie Hyung told me we're going to get coffee at the same cafe we've been to three times today. And didn't you say we were going to the park?"
When Jinwoo strains his ears, he can still make out the conversation. "...you know Bin. It's always food with him. I'm sure he's just- Oh! Look at that! Isn't that Minhyuk over there!"
A muffled squeak preludes some shuffling, and then Jinwoo can hear clearly again. Unfortunately, all he gets is a rushed, "Sorry, hyung! I know you can do it! We'll see you at home, bye!" Then it's the beep of a disconnected call.)
So, he tugged Myungjun, or—more accurately—was tugged by Myungjun, to the shop. Regardless of the last minute complications, Jinwoo had a plan and they had a time limit. This couldn't possibly go that wrong.
~~~
No regrets. No regrets. No regre-
"Jinwoo!"
Not again.
A sigh, "Yes, Myungjun?"
They've been in the store a whopping fifteen minutes, but Myungjun has been able to find something unbelievably interesting in every room display. The way his eyes light up is incredibly endearing, but Jinwoo could've sworn the coffee table was on this floor, and they've had no luck so far. The plan seems more out of reach by the minute and it's a little demotivating.
"I just wanted to check up on my lovely-" Myungjun cuts off, the air filling back with general store chatter.
When Jinwoo glances back, he finds his boyfriend staring intently at a lamp—eyes squinted—muttering something to himself. "Myungjun?"
"Su-ver-vile? Sveer-vil? Jinwoo, help. I can't read this one." Jinwoo tugs the dolly back, getting close enough to see the tag Myungjun has in his hand: Svirvel.
"Myungjun, I can't read Swedish, what-"
"I think it'd be a good nickname for you."
Jinwoo stares on, confused. Myungjun's smile doesn't drop a watt.
"Think about it Jinwoo, every couple uses the same cheesy pet names." Myungjun wraps an arm around Jinwoo's shoulder, resting their heads together. "Baby, honey, sweetie, cupcake, light of my life, fire of my-"
"I get your point," Jinwoo's got a hand over Myungjun's mouth. His filter only lasts so long.
"So instead you're trying-?" Jinwoo yanks his arm away on reflex, groaning out a 'gross' before wiping his palm on the shirt of his giggling boyfriend.
"Oh come on, you didn't think my mouth was gross last night-"
"There are children here, Myungjun. Finish your point."
"Gladly," Myungjun smiles, letting the tag drop to take Jinwoo's hand. "I just think it's a creative way to show you my love."
Jinwoo wishes he were better at controlling his expressions. He can feel the smile growing on his face, giving him away. It only encourages Myungjun and his more 'creative' ideas.
"Yes, how romantic. I've always wanted to be your special..." Jinwoo takes the forgotten tag, eyes skimming the print. "...standing floor lamp, one of several lighting decor options perfect for brightening the interior of any modern-"
"Well, when you put it like that." Myungjun's lips fall to a pout. The laugh that rises in Jinwoo's throat can't be helped. He tugs on their linked hands, pulling them away from the forgotten lamp and into the next section.
"I like us the way we are, Myungjunnie. No change needed." Myungjun brightens considerably at that.
~~~
Closer, closer. At least now there's some progress.
Jinwoo gave up blindly searching the floor after a half hour. The table was obviously moved somewhere. That or Jinwoo had forgotten the store layout completely, both valid options. Either way, he refused to spend another thirty minutes walking around aimlessly; he might go insane like that. Instead he thought rationally—what would Dongmin do—and asked an employee. Two minutes and he now knows the new location of the table and how to get there.
He just has to find Myungjun first.
Call it bad reasoning at the time, but splitting up was the option they went with. When Jinwoo thinks about it now, Myungjun had been pretty keen to part ways. He can only imagine what his boyfriend had been so eager to separate for.
"He has to be on this floor," Jinwoo mutters, scanning the furniture displays. They were still—technically—supposed to be looking for the elusive coffee table. The coffee table Myungjun still thought was on this floor, so there's that. He also wouldn't go back to the things they'd already looked through, not when there was so much left to explore (and such a short attention span to entertain).
That leaves about half of the floor open to search.
And Jinwoo's got a time limit, so it's time to start looking.
~~~
Maybe I can go to customer service, Jinwoo thinks, circling a bedpost he's seen at least twice already. Hi, yes. I've lost my boyfriend. He's about my height, dark hair, probably making an absolute disaster of your store somewhere?
The longer Jinwoo walks the floor, the more ridiculous he feels. He's making plans to call security on his boyfriend, when in reality he doesn't know how he'll find his own way back. Every passing minute the urge to flop onto a mattress display and wait for Myungjun to find him grows stronger.
Jinwoo pauses mid-stride.
Not a bad idea actually.
With a resolute spin of the dolly, that becomes Jinwoo's next plan.
Up until he reaches the mattresses, that is.
"You've got to be kidding me." With no friends to mock him, Jinwoo can cringe internally at how soft his voice comes out. It's a tone that does not at all fit with his aching legs or sore, dolly-dragging arms, but it's the tone that comes anyways.
Because how can he not feel just a bit sentimental seeing his narcoleptic boyfriend passed out on bed display.
(In hindsight, having dated a serial napper—who constantly uses their friends as substitute beds—should've been a heads up.)
It's all white mattress with the exception of Myungjun curled up on one side. His hair is already fluffed up and his body has naturally left Jinwoo's side of the bed empty (even if that's not how it works when Jinwoo's actually in the bed). It's domestic and Jinwoo is filled with a fuzzy reluctance to break the scene in front of him. Eventually, it's Bin's voice in his head—unhelpfully crying 'whipped'—that has him gently sitting himself beside Myungjun in the bed.
This could be a valuable opportunity for revenge. The thought passes Jinwoo's mind, spurred on by the numb feeling in his feet. But Myungjun's mouth is open a fraction, breath giving the slightest whistle on the exhale, and Jinwoo wants to complain to the world about how his boyfriend can cute himself out of punishments in his sleep.
Sometimes life isn't fair, Jinwoo thinks, running his hand through Myungjun's bedhead.
The lack of revenge may end up being worth it, because Myungjun wakes up with a hum, leaning into the feeling of Jinwoo's hand in his hair. And when his eyes open, blinking in the bright light, he gives Jinwoo one of those small smiles that's half-awake and loving and a total juxtaposition of his usual blinding smile.
It takes him a moment to realize that they're not at home, and when he does he starts babbling an explanation—still somewhat slurred with sleep—that's funnier to watch than helpful to hear.
Jinwoo nods along half heartedly, but he's tired and achy and starting to contemplate whether or not this damn table is worth it when he could be laying beside his boyfriend in bed. So he cuts Myungjun off in the middle of his rant, using his lips because it's most efficient, and starts pulling him off to the discontinued furniture.
Not before handing the dolly off though.
~~~
They're so close.
They're so incredibly close, and it's the only thing driving Jinwoo forward.
Well, maybe that and the atmosphere.
Neither Jinwoo nor Myungjun had any idea that the store went this high. And from the looks of it, no one else knew either. Besides the occasional window letting sun highlight the dust, the floor is pretty dark. Simpler furniture displays litter the area, with an abundance of lamps attempting to counteract the lack of proper lighting. All in all, it creates a quiet, empty, and giant room speckled with fluorescent glows now and again. It's a tad creepy.
Myungjun's hand in his keeps Jinwoo grounded, but Myungjun himself is quiet. And that's strange on its own, but Jinwoo could really use a dumb joke right now if only to break the anxious air. As they step further into the floor—with their luck, towards the darkest, furthest corner—the shop noises fade to dead silence.
"You know," Jinwoo only flinches a smidge at the sudden noise. "If we split up, we might be able to find-"
There's no need for Myungjun to finish his thought. The rapid turn of Jinwoo's body towards his—sharp enough to break their linked hands—and expression hiding no disbelief, shuts that idea away quick enough.
"Myungjun, you have a bruise on your forehead from running into a cabinet yesterday." Jinwoo's hands cross over his chest. "You thought the sausage in the kitchen was a snake."
If the emptiness is good for anything, it's good at corking up Myungjun's excuses. Up here, it's Jinwoo and Myungjun, two people who know far too much about each other from an unfortunately long and pining-filled relationship (as Minhyuk like to put it). Jinwoo is allowed a very sweet 'I told you so' moment when Myungjun huffs in response.
Then he's running.
"What the-" Jinwoo could get whiplash attempting to turn at the rate his boyfriend is taking off. "Myungjun, what are you-"
"I see it! Just hurry up and follow me!" Jinwoo has no room to argue before Myungjun's taken a corner and left him with the sound of echoing footsteps.
This is unfair. Really unfair. Jinwoo doesn't get a lot of moments to be right (despite how often they come up), and Myungjun is all too happy to find distractions when they do. Jinwoo should just stay in place. Wait for Myungjun to come back, lugging the giant pile of wooden pieces himself.
But the footsteps are getting further, with no sign of hesitation, and that did not look like a shadow moving in the corner....
Jinwoo's the nicer one anyways, so he takes off after the fading footsteps, willing to let the moment slide just this once.
~~~
Time to play detective.
Jinwoo thought he'd be a lot happier when he found the table. And to some extent he is, but this is the second time he's had to play hide and seek with his boyfriend in this store and it's not as cute as he'd been led to believe.
At least Jinwoo knows he's here this time.
There hasn't been a person, let alone any signs of one, the entire time they'd been up. But coincidentally, there's a dolly parked right beside the table set up. Even more peculiar, the sets of table pieces have already been stacked carefully atop the machine.
So everything's ready to go, except Myungjun.
Jinwoo's back pocket vibrates, phone stealing his attention away. His first thought is panic, glancing at the time. His second thought is surprise, seeing a jumble of capitalized keyboard smashing from 'I'm-a-college-student-and-I'll-text-like-one' Dongmin. Jinwoo didn't even know Dongmin's phone could be grammatically incorrect.
"Myungjun?" Jinwoo fights off the small voice still alert inside him; the one that learned from horror movies to keep quiet in shady serial killer lairs. He strolls around the room display. "Myungjun, I think the others need us back soon."
The room replies, his own voice echoing in layers.
Jinwoo stops in front of the table, brushing off a fine layer of dust before sitting himself down. His arms plant themselves either side of him as his legs rest lazily in front. "Myungjun, we've played this game already, and I think it's only fair that you be the seeker this time."
Sometimes it's the dumb things that work. The unconscious things that spout from Jinwoo's mouth when he's run out of things to say. Maybe his subconscious has become so accustomed to Myungjun's ridiculousness that it's started adapting to his thoughts. That's not good.
Regardless, Myungjun appears, quick as light, and Jinwoo feels proud that all he does is shut his eyes in response. He's been known to give his friends a bruise or two when it's time to watch a horror movie after all.
He keeps his eyes shut, taking a few breaths to calm his shaky heart rate. When the silence reigns on, Jinwoo's forced to think of just why he's still got his eyes shut.
He's waiting for the laugh, for the teasing, for the sign that this is Myungjun playing another prank. He's waiting to be sure that when he opens his eyes he'll see his boyfriend's lopsided grin that he can kiss off before shoving him for being such a lousy person.
But it doesn't come.
It doesn't come, and Jinwoo can definitely feel the warm presence of another person hovering close to his body.
And as much as he'd like to think himself a put together and thoughtful person, the more time he spends thinking about the situation, the more crazy his imagination gets.
So Jinwoo steadies his hands on the table, tilts his chin up, and stares the person dead in the eyes.
This only makes him feel smaller.
It's no psycho clown murderer, or something equivalent in nightmare fuel, as Jinwoo had been imagining.
Instead he does, finally, see Myungjun. He sees his boyfriend, arms spread wide to envelope the space over Jinwoo's body. He sees Myungjun's face, inexplicably close to his own, a delicately teasing smile playing on his lips with a look reserved for their home and their home alone in his eyes. Jinwoo is frozen, heart racing and mouth dry, but for a new reason entirely.
"You know," Myungjun's voice has dropped; low, rumbling, overwhelming in the silence.
"I just wanted to know what you'd look like." Jinwoo swallows, head bending away as Myungjun inches forward.
"Pinned against the table..." Jinwoo's breath catches in his throat, the sound audible but hard to hear over the pounding of his heart. Myungjun faces no difficultly picking up on Jinwoo's distress though, eyes curving with his smile.
Jinwoo was wrong.
This was more evil than anything he'd been thinking.
And he's so ready to give in.
There's just one thing keeping him.
It'd be easy—so, so easy—to lean up into Myungjun's space. To seal the gap between them that has Jinwoo's heart on overdrive and his limbs ready to pounce. He could cover that devious twist of the lips with his own and give in with ease.
But Jinwoo doesn't like to play the easy game.
He has more skill than that.
So he does pounce—with force—shooting forward, hands grabbing ahold of Myungjun's beside him. His momentum sends the two of them toppling Myungjun's way. Down, down, down they fall, until there's a puff of air. Jinwoo can feel Myungjun tense underneath him, his hands pinned under Jinwoo's grip, his back cushioned by the bed set opposite the table.
Myungjun isn't smiling anymore.
Now his mouth is open, lips forming words that he doesn't have the breath to say. The jerking movement resembles the tug of his hands under Jinwoo's, but it's a beautiful contrast to his eyes, so solidly locked onto Jinwoo's own. The picture of a speechless Myungjun is almost as beautiful as the sight of him, so flustered and wide eyed, under Jinwoo's body.
Jinwoo's head bends down slowly, leisurely finding a place beside Myungjun's ear. His forehead rests on the side of Myungjun's cheek, skin warm to the touch. A red blush looks orange in the hue of yellow lighting. The first puff of warm breath on skin has Myungjun shivering.
"J-Jinwoo," Myungjun's voice cracks, starting before Jinwoo can say a thing. "A-Are you sure we should-? I mean, l-like you said. There are, uh, kids! And..."
For as much as Myungjun's words are attempting to dissuade Jinwoo, his body language says otherwise. His head is leaning into the familiar warmth he's know so long. His hands stopped resisting a long time ago.
Jinwoo steps back, standing upright and wiping the sweat of his palms onto his jeans. He turns back towards the dolly, grabbing the cold metal of the handle and wheeling it around to face the bed.
Ruffled, surprised Myungjun is just too cute.
He reaches out for his boyfriend, taking one hand and tugging him upright. Myungjun barely moves, standing with a lot of effort and looking dazed all the while.
"You're right," Jinwoo shrugs. "Or, more like, I was right."
He pushes the dolly ahead, back towards the rest of civilization, making sure that he can hear Myungjun's steps padding behind him.
"And anyways," He calls. "We've got a job to do and it hasn't been going exactly well."
Jinwoo can see the escalators now, white lights acting like a beacon. He stops the dolly, swiveling just in time to get a chest full of Myungjun, arm wrapping around to secure him against his body.
The air is heavy again, just for a moment.
"But you know, maybe if we're productive and get the errands done..." Jinwoo's smile grows, a mirror of the one he saw only minutes ago. "Maybe we can finish back home before the others get back?"
The proposition hangs in the air for exactly one second before Myungjun's out of Jinwoo's arms, wheeling the dolly away at high speed while yelling for Jinwoo to, "Hurry up you old turtle!"
Jinwoo's laugh echoes through the floor. He slips out his phone to finally shoot Dongmin a quick reply over text, something about needing extra time to 'decorate,' before he's taking off to follow Myungjun and finally finish their trip.
He may have just found a way to make chores with Myungjun work out.