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Nouns are hard.
When Chanyeol found Jongdae he hadn’t known what to say. Part of that was him having been faced with a man with unusually long ears and deep purple eyelashes. After his initial surprised swear words, Chanyeol had asked his name. The man had watched him for a long minute eyes flicking across his face in a way that made Chanyeol feel like he was on display rather than offering help. Finally the man had yielded and asked what a name is.
“We don’t...have much...subjects...in my language.” he’d explained in clunky Korean on the drive back to Chanyeol’s house -- there had been something about the situation that called for that over driving to the hospital.
The day after he’d brought Jongdae home and given him a hot meal of food his mum had taught him to give sick people, Chanyeol took him to a professional to pick out a new name. They’d decided after a while of mostly Jongdae looking out the window and Chanyeol actually paying attention that Jongdae would work as good as any. Chanyeol paid the guy his weekly discretionary spending because well...it would be pretty shitty to not have a name.
They’d gone home and eaten shitty ramyeon while Jongdae flicked through the TV. “We sacrificed entertainment in order to focus on other research”. Later that night Chanyeol had asked Jongdae if he was an alien -- he’d said yes.
Now, after six months of painful explanations and slow lessons in humanity, Chanyeol’s house is filled with sticky notes. Not as reminders for tasks, just the nouns that Jongdae needed to remember.
Nouns are the only things that Jongdae struggles with. He thrives with adjectives, verbs and even adverbs, they fit neatly into his conceptions of language as it stood on his home planet. Sometimes it feels as if Jongdae’s more eloquent than Chanyeol, that is until he stumbles on the word for jam and ends up having to describe it as ‘the sticky red thing’.
They’re sitting down in front of the TV, Jongdae’s flicking through the channels again. It’s the time of the night where mostly variety shows are playing but since no one Chanyeol’s really interested in is featured he’s not too bothered by the surfing. Their microwave dings. Chanyeol moves Jongdae’s legs so he can grab their food. “Chanyeol-ah, the way these two people look at each other...what’s that?” Jongdae’s used the live pause feature he’d become quite fond of in the few days after he started living with Chanyeol.
“Just a second Jongdae. I’m serving up the food.” Chanyeol doesn’t look up until he’s finished laying out reheated chicken across their heaped bowls of rice. Jongdae’s paused on an ad for re-runs for Sungkyungkwan Scandal -- whoever the main characters are looking at each other in all their loved up drama glory. “Oh.” He turns to grab the meat and fruit sauce from the fridge -- it’s best to delay answering for as long possible.
A loud beeping sound tells Chanyeol he’s been pretending to look for too long. “Tch, Jongin-ah said that they’re acting so it’s not...real. But, what are they acting.” Jongin had avoided the question last time he came over. “It’s very...intense, but they also look very free, like they aren’t worried about anything.” Chanyeol can feel Jongdae’s gaze burning a hole in the back of his shirt.
(That had happened once. Jongdae explained that if he was not careful ‘it appeared’ his eyes could emit wavelengths that weren’t compatible with fabric on earth.)
Bowls in hand, Chanyeol comes out from behind the kitchen counter, “I’ve not seen the show,” (A lie.) “so I don’t know what exactly they’re feeling.” (Another lie.)
“You told me the other day after picking me up at the park that humans are always worried about something, you’re always worried too ‘Yeol-ah. Why would they not be worried?” Jongdae tips his head, as if his question wasn’t loaded enough.
Chanyeol’s stomach churns. “I think they’re meant to be in love Jongdae. The emotion is love. ‘In love’ is a phrase that means you love someone.” he explains, hoping that if he drags out his explanation it’ll mean that Jongdae will have more time to come to his own conclusions instead of asking him.
Jongdae nudges his arm as he sits back down on the couch. “Do all humans feel love? Having a phrase means you probably do but you told me it’s okay to check with you. Have you ever been ‘in love’?” Chanyeol recognises the tone of Jongdae’s voice, he’s keen to learn, overexcited by the thought of an entire realm of thought he’d not even considered existing.
Taking his bowl from the table Chanyeol watches Jongdae steadily. “The day after I found you -- the day we went and got your name -- you said you guys sacrificed stuff for research. You guys didn’t sacrifice love right?”
He can’t help but smile at the way Jongdae scrunches his nose as he tries to recall. “I don’t think there was ever a time before earth that I felt an emotion that made me feel like I did not need to worry or feel that happy.” Which doesn’t sound entirely painful to Chanyeol, not experiencing love would certainly reduce his amount of wasted energy in a day -- then again...what’s a world without love?
Clearly there’s something written on his face because Jongdae interjects his thoughts with “That is not to say I did not feel happiness at being with another individual but most of this was simply pleasure derived from company. What is the purpose of love?”
And that makes...three individual questions Chanyeol doesn’t really want to answer but what’s a guy to do when he’s got the weight of teaching fledgling human about the world. “All humans do feel love, I’m pretty sure. There’s lots of reasons we love, and there’s lots of types of love. I love Jongin but I don’t love him like I love my mum and I don’t love my mum like I’ll love the person I marry. It sounds complicated but when you feel it, stuff will make sense. I have been in love before, nice while it lasts, don’t recommend it after things end.” Jongdae’s watching him when he finishes.
“That difference between a friend and someone you marry...what is it?” he asks, chopsticks resting on his lips.
Looking back at him Chanyeol’s not sure he knows the answer.
--
Chanyeol’s closing the door as Junmyeon bustles down the hallway, hanging off Yixing’s arm. “They love each other don’t they?” Jongdae asks, coming closer than strictly necessary to peer over Chanyeol’s shoulder. He’s on his tiptoes when Chanyeol turns around.
Pulling a face, Chanyeol shrugs. “I dunno for sure. Yixing told me one day that he loves Junmyeon. I think Junmyeon feels the same. Not sure if they’ve told each other. But probably yeah.” Eventually, he nods, clapping a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder. “They’re kinda cute together right? Makes me a little jealous.”
By the time Jongdae next speaks, Chanyeol’s already standing in the kitchen. “Did you love Junmyeon? Or was it Yixing? That’s what jealousy means right?” Chanyeol’s surprised enough to drop the dishes he’s holding into the sink he’s running.
Huffing out an incredulous laugh, Chanyeol shakes his head. “No Jongdae, I’m jealous of their happy relationship. It’s not always fun being single. There’s just something about being with someone that makes you feel good y’know? That’s just how humans are.” He’s managed to pick up the dish by now and busies himself with cleaning it so he doesn’t have to hold Jongdae’s gaze.
As per their routine Jongdae tracks over to the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table (a habit he’d picked up from Jongin). “You’re with me quite often Chanyeol. We live together, you cook for me, you even buy me clothes. That’s what Junmyeon and Yixing do isn’t it?” It’s hard to keep breathing so his brain can have enough oxygen to formulate anything more than a garbled response.
“Yeah but we aren’t together like that Jongdae. You gotta ask someone if you’re dating and there’s all these little hoops you gotta jump through to make it official.” Chanyeol glances up from the sink and catches the quizzical squint of his eyes and pout of his lips. “Not literal hoops Jongdae.”
A few minutes of silence pass between them before Jongdae breaks it by turning on the TV. It defaults to the 24 hour news channel Jongdae had become enamoured with after burning through Chanyeol’s collections of dramas. “Is there a limitation to love so it must only be felt once you’re ‘dating’?” Jongdae watches Chanyeol, routine wondering regarding his sentence formulation present in his gaze.
Chanyeol nods to show he understands, “Can you romantically love someone and not be dating them, you mean?” he checks, tucking the second last dish into its spot on the drying rack.
“Yes.”
He starts on the last dish before answering and is almost finished with it by the time he opens his mouth to speak again. “Of course you can. But that just hurts a whole lot more.” He flashes a smile to Jongdae as he places the dish next to its already completed cohort.
There’s the white noise of Jongdae skipping through the channels for a couple more minutes as Chanyeol moves about the kitchen, straightening the things put out of place by his preparation for Junmyeon and Yixing’s visit. “How do you know you’re in love with someone?” The TV pauses on an ad for a mop that is apparently 86 per cent more efficient than other mops.
Complaints about mops being streaky playing in the background Chanyeol turns to Jongdae. He feels that same gaze that could literally burn holes in his clothing on his face -- his face heats. “It creeps up on you mostly. You always think of them when you eat a certain side dish because that’s the one they always order more of. You know what kinds of shows they like to watch because they talk about having to finish work early to be home in time for them. I think it’s when you start smiling because they smile...that’s when you know for sure that you love them.” Chanyeol laughs, slinging a tea towel over his shoulder as he watches Jongdae.
Jongdae smiles. “That certainly does sound like a long and gradual process.” He breaks off to look at his hands, he bends seven fingers. “Would seven months be long enough to fall in love with someone?”
The earnestness in Jongdae’s eyes would be hard to miss. “Well...Jongin and Baekhyun met while Jongin was doing a six month unit thing at a university because his didn’t offer the course so maybe you can do it in a little less than seven? Depends on the people I guess.” Jongdae nods but doesn’t say anything. Leaning over the divider between the kitchen and the rest of the apartment Chanyeol cocks his head. “Why all the questions ‘Dae?”
“I just wanted to consider if love may be the answer to some questions I’ve been stewing over for a while.” Jongdae says, turning to his hands again. He folds them down in a seemingly random order and his lips move fast in a way Chanyeol has come to recognise means he’s whispering his native language.
Chanyeol goes back to making sure the kitchen is clean.
“I love you Chanyeol.”
Jongdae’s standing just outside the kitchen, maintaining a distance that doesn’t quite fit with the words he’s saying. “I think of you when I’m eating non-spicy kimchi with Minseok because you have the palette of a baby.” Jongdae’s taking small steps towards Chanyeol, wringing his hands as he does. “You like those shows where you always know the couple that is going to fall in love and what’s going to happen because you don’t like crying I know that you always try and finish your shifts a little earlier when you find one you like.” There’s colour in Jongdae’s cheeks that wasn’t there before and Chanyeol’s pretty sure it must be annoyance at this human who can’t be straightforward about anything.
“You sure that you haven’t just learnt that because you’re astounded by this human specimen that you’re living with and his weird way of living?” Chanyeol jokes, glued in place by his own fear of ending the moment as Jongdae finally stops in front of him.
He’s far closer than before when he gently explains, “There’s one more thing Chanyeol.” His voice is enough to make Chanyoel’s voice catch in his throat. “I smile when you smile. And not just in the way you explained I should the day we went and got my name and the man asked if I was alright. It seems natural, not something I need to remember to do with you Chanyeol-ah.”
This is the point at which it’s probably a good idea for Chanyeol to interject and let Jongdae know that he’s a fucking ALIEN and he could probably do wayyyy better on his home planet. But he doesn’t...not because his voice doesn’t work, he just doesn’t want Jongdae to stop.
Heat brushes Chanyeol’s fingertips and it takes him a second to realise that it’s Jongdae. “Do you feel the same? I will understand if you don’t.” There’s a tone of hope in Jongdae’s voice that sounds more alien than the flecks of gold in his sclera look.
“I certainly feel something.” Chanyeol says softly, surprised at the stability of his own voice. “Need a little bit longer to figure out what it is but I’m happy to do that with you lovin’ me. If you understand what I mean.” Chanyeol’s intensely conscious of the fact that most of what he just said doesn’t even make sense to him -- then again he’s pretty sure his brain short circuited about five minutes ago.
The fingers holding his slide gently and Chanyeol feels them slot into place as their palms press together. “You know, strangely enough? I understand you perfectly.”