Work Text:
To: Kim Jong In
You coming back for dinner?
From: Kim Jong In
dance practice ): sry
It's not entirely unexpected. Yixing had warned Luhan about this, even, that "Jongin will never love you more than he loves dance". Luhan had laughed because who is Yixing to say that, but he's not so sure when he knows that Yixing is meeting with Yifan for dinner tonight.
It's not entirely unexpected, since their winter performance is in three weeks, and Jongin hasn't been home for dinner for the past two weeks, and it's not even Jongin's custom, anyway. Another one of these cultural gap issues.
Luhan can't help but be a little disappointed, though. After three years he's started to think of Jongin as... family. As foreign as that sounds, it's also familiar, somehow. Like -- like Jongin is all the comfort of home, displaced seven thousand miles west to warm Luhan up on cold winter nights and brighten all the slate grey days of New York.
It would've been nice to have reunion dinner with family again. It's been some time since Luhan's been home for the new year. As he toes off his shoes at the door and places them next to a pair of Jongin's sneakers, he thinks maybe this year, he is home.
But Jongin isn't. That's okay. It's still their home.
Their home. Luhan smiles, despite everything.
He wanders into the kitchen and opens the fridge, even though he knows it's empty. He'd planned to buy some groceries and set up a hot pot, but there's not much point if Jongin won't be home. Luhan's not sure hot pot can be microwaved.
Maybe he'll just order takeout. Yea, that sounds nice, and microwaveable.
But he's also run out of coffee, so Luhan sighs and resigns himself to the supermarket.
Luhan returns with a tin each of coffee and hot chocolate, and the coffee machine is already steaming when Jongin calls.
Luhan picks up immediately, and his hand clenches tighter when he hears Jongin panting.
"Jongin? What's wrong?"
"You didn't tell me it was seollal tomorrow!"
Luhan laughs, startled. Jongin's calling him from dance practice for this? "You forgot it was seollal tomorrow?"
"No," Jongin says, sounding disgruntled. "I remembered it was seollal tomorrow. I forgot today was the day before seollal."
Luhan's still very, very confused. It's okay, he supposes. Jongin's still in college, he's allowed to have a poor sense of time.
"Why didn't you tell me!"
Luhan blinks. "Um. Why should I have told you?"
"We're supposed to have reunion dinner together, aren't we?"
"What?"
There's the abrupt sound of Jongin's panting being cut off. "I mean. Unless you weren't planning to -- I'm sorry, I thought -- "
"Jongin, no, wait. Don't you have dance practice?"
"Um. Not anymore?"
Luhan gapes. "Did you skip, Jongin."
"Maybe?"
Luhan feels warmth bloom all over his chest. The last time Jongin had skipped dance practice, he was too sick to even leave the bed -- and even then, he'd tried to go.
"Thanks," Luhan says, and he feels his cheeks stretch into an over-wide grin.
"I -- should I come ho -- "
"Yes!" Luhan says. A year ago he might have been embarrassed by his eagerness, but it hardly matters now that Jongin is skipping dance practice just to have dinner with him and indulge in his little traditions. "Come home, and we can have reunion dinner."
Jongin laughs, surprised but bright. "Okay, in fifteen."
"Wait, no, don't come home. I'll meet you at the supermarket."
"Ge," Jongin whines. He only ever calls Luhan ge when he's whining. "I have all my stuff with me. And I'm still dressed for dance practice and I'm cold."
"Good, that means you have a bag," Luhan says, unmerciful. But he's not heartless. "I'll bring you another jacket."
Luhan can still hear the pout in Jongin's voice. "The crew is going to kill me. I walked in and Yixing wasn't there, and then I realised and I ran off."
Luhan smiles, but says softly, "You don't have to, you know?"
"I want to," Jongin says. "It's important to you, right?"
"It is", even if Luhan hasn't had the new year off in years.
"Then I'll be there," Jongin says. "But I'm not going to carry everything home from the supermarket."
Jongin carries the rice, anyway. He complains all the way to Luhan's car, but Luhan's used to it.
"Don't take off your shoes!" Jongin says when they're at the entryway.
Luhan makes a face. "No."
He's toeing them off and Jongin actually steps on his foot. "No! Ghosts will steal your shoes!"
"What?" Luhan is bewildered for a moment, then he remembers doing this last year, too. "Oh. Right. But I'm not walking in with them. And I'm not letting you, either! Kim Jongin!"
Luhan grumbles as Jongin returns from the kitchen at light speed, taking off his shoes for him and bringing them all into their cupboard. Luhan makes him put them all into plastic bags.
"I just spring cleaned, Jongin."
"Oops," Jongin says, grinning sheepishly. "My shoes are new."
Luhan sighs. "I know, I bought them." Jongin wasn't supposed to wear them until the new year, but the sole fell off his old trainers and Luhan's willing to make some compromises.
When the rice cooker goes off, there's an odd selection of what Jongin calls "white people food" on their table. Luhan pours in kale instead of Chinese cabbage to start, but he's feeling nice and warm. Luhan's not sure if that's from the hot pot, or the way Jongin's shoulders brushed against his when they were chopping vegetables.
"Um," Jongin says, right when Luhan's settled down. "I saw this at the oriental market, so I bought it for today."
The mysterious foil-wrapped pack in the back of their fridge is hanwoo. Luhan smothers Jongin in a hug.
Luhan figures out how to work the barbecue attachment on their hot pot, while Jongin empties half the food into the water.
"It won't boil like this," Luhan scolds.
Jongin shrugs. "We can wait."
He's the one who whines about taking forever to start, though, and his rice bowl is already half empty. Luhan laughs and piles the microwaved wonton onto Jongin's plate.
Eventually the water boils and the fishballs bounce up to the surface. Jongin's feet tangle with Luhan's and he gives Luhan the first piece of hanwoo while Luhan spoons the first bowl of soup for Jongin. Luhan feels warm, and comfortable, and at home.
The next day, Luhan is rushing off to work when Jongin slides his arms around his waist. "You're up early," he comments, just as Jongin mumbles something in Korean against his temple.
It takes a while for Luhan to translate it, not used to a language he rarely uses at seven in the morning, then he smiles and turns in Jongin's arms to kiss him on the lips.
"Happy new year to you, too," he replies, in Mandarin. "I love you too."