Yoomin ficlet #2
Piece #2 of the iTunes drabbles. It obviously grew waaay out of proportions =.=;
For the_machine, who really needs to draw more Yoomin fanarts :DDD
#2
Get Up and Dance - Se7en (listen)
G for Greasy & Gay PG
1320 words
AU
Obligatory club!fic, since I seem to be overly fond of that setting :| Much tamer and gayer than usual, though XD;
Yoochun sighs and scans the crowd inside the club, nursing his third martini and hoping to see a familiar face before dying of sheer boredom. All the hot guys around him seem to be already paired off, so when he spots the tall, attractive, unaccompanied young man making his way towards the counter he sits up straight and tries to look sexy and mysterious. He can tell he's not the only one who has noticed the boy - at least judging by all the heads that turn as he passes by - but he cuts through the crowd like Moses crossing the Red Sea and ignores the interested looks and the hands reaching out to stop him. Yoochun is in the middle of giving himself an air of calculated boredom when the newcomer glances his way; their eyes lock, and Yoochun sees his eyes widen into the same shocked espression he's sure must be written all over his own face.
Someone bumps into him, nearly making him spill martini all over his pants; when he stops muttering curses and looks up again the boy is gone, and Yoochun tells himself it must've been a hallucination. It couldn't be him, could it?
"You're Yoochun, right? The guy who works at the cafeteria? I knew you looked familiar," someone says, and Yoochun turns around sharply to find himself staring at Shim Changmin's face. The stern glasses he usually wears are gone, and he looks different - sleek and exotic and absolutely stunning, Yoochun thinks with wonder - but it's definitely him, the guy who likes to sit in a corner of the cafeteria with just his textbooks and a cup of sickeningly sweet coffee too keep him company, one of the top students in their college and Yoochun's secret crush since forever.
"Uhhh, yes?" Yoochun offers, still too stunned to manage anything more articulated. His only coherent thought is running along the lines of Oh my god, Shim-fucking-Changmin is talking to me in a gay club, and the feeling of drunken elation coming from it has nothing to do with the alcohol he's been drinking.
Maybe it's just Yoochun's imagination, but he think he sees Changmin's face fall a little at his lame reply and mentally kicks himself.
"You're Changmin, aren't you? I didn't recognize you at first,” he lies quickly, flashing Changmin his most charming smile. “Do you come here often?”
Changmin shrugs and gives him a guarded look. “Not really. I was supposed to meet with someone, but he just called to say he can't come anymore.”
The way he says it makes Yoochun frown, but if the annoyed look in Changmin's eyes is anything to go by, he's better off not asking.
“Trance is a cool place,” he says instead, “and right now it's gotten even cooler.”
He looks at Changmin with a winning grin, but the other doesn't seem particularly impressed by Yoochun's pick-up skills. He can almost hear his friend Jaejoong's voice in his head, snickering 'how lame, Yoochunah' and laughing his ass off.
“You didn't seem to be having much fun, before,” Changmin observes snidely, hopping on the stool beside his and leaning against the counter. Transfixed, Yoochun stares at the way Changmin's dark locks brush the shoulders of his jacket, and wonder how they would feel between his fingers.
“Maybe I was just lacking the right company, before,” he suggests. “Want something to drink?”
Changmin smirks at him - Yoochun's never loved that expression so much before - and takes a long sip of Yoochun's martini.
“One of these will do, thanks” he says, giving him a cocky glance from over the rim of the cocktail glass.
----
Thirty minutes and several drinks later Yoochun manages to drag a somewhat unwilling Changmin to the dance floor.
“I can't dance!” the younger man shouts at him over the blaring music.
“It's dark and the place is packed, nobody is going to notice!” Yoochun shouts back.
Changmin looks at Yoochun's fingers curled around his wrist with mild annoyance, obviously debating whether to wrench his arm free and tell him to fuck off now or later on.
Feeling brave, Yoochun smiles and gives his wrist a gentle squeeze. By some miracle it seems to work, because Changmin lets him lead to the middle of the dancing crowd without further protests.
They dance awkwardly, at first, and he can tell that Changmin is trying really hard not to make a fool of himself and not to dance too close to anybody - including Yoochun, much to Yoochun's dismay - but when he realizes it's true that nobody is taking notice of his lack of dancing skills he relaxes visibly.
“Hey, you're pretty good for someone who just said he couldn't dance,” Yoochun says, slightly breathless. The only thing he gets is a skeptical glance, but he really means it. Changmin moves with a sort of feline, loose-limbed grace, seemingly unconscious of his own appeal, and once again Yoochun finds himself staring.
“Ow, sorry,” Changmin mutters into Yoochun's neck when a particularly enthusiastic movement of the guy dancing behind him sends him tumbling straight into his arms.
“It's okay,” Yoochun says brightly, steadying him and thanking every single deity he knows for granting his wishes (one of them, at least). He slips a casual arm around Changmin's waist, holding him close while they sway more or less in time with the beat.
Changmin gives him a sharp look, then shakes his head and laughs and doesn't pull away. Yoochun realizes that in six long months of Changmin-watching he's never seen him laugh so freely, and feels rather proud of himself.
“What?” the younger man asks, probably noticing the way Yoochun is gaping at him like a lovesick idiot.
“Just thinking you should leave your glasses at home more often,” he replies earnestly, “and smile more, instead of looking so solemn all the time. You're much cuter this way.”
Yoochun traces the corner of Changmin's lips with light, reverent fingers, and is surprised when the other doesn't even attempt to pull away; he just stares at Yoochun with a look of uncertainty and surprise written on his face.
He does have nice eyes, Yoochun thinks dreamily, unable to resist the temptation of running his fingers along the strong line of Changmin's jaw up to his cheekbone.
“Have you been watching me?” Changmin asks, so quietly that Yoochun nearly misses the question.
“I- what? Well, yes,” he blurts out, taken aback by the sudden question. “For quite a while, actually.”
He expects Changmin to laugh at him, and that's exactly what he does - except it's a nervous, almost relieved kind of laugh, not the sarcastic snicker he was expecting.
“You're an idiot,” he says to Yoochun, very seriously. Then he fists his hands into the front of Yoochun's shirt and crashes their lips together.
Yoochun's eyes water in pain - he's pretty sure he's split his lip against Changmin's teeth, because he can taste blood in his mouth - and the kiss is as stiff and awkward as it can be, but he's pretty damn sure he's never felt so elated in his whole life.
Changmin pulls away hastily, refusing to meet Yoochun's eyes. Yoochun can tell he's blushing even in the dim light of the club, and that comes somewhat as a shock to him, who didn't know Changmin could be anything but cool and collected and snarky. The sight is oddly endearing, but he values his life too much to say that out loud.
“Hey, do you want to go and talk outside? I can't even hear myself, in here.”
He takes Changmin's hand, unable to keep the silly grin off his face, but even Changmin looks like he's having trouble not to look too pleased, and on the way out he never lets go of Yoochun's hand.
---
Thanks for reading! &hearts
For the_machine, who really needs to draw more Yoomin fanarts :DDD
#2
Get Up and Dance - Se7en (listen)
G for Greasy & Gay PG
1320 words
AU
Obligatory club!fic, since I seem to be overly fond of that setting :| Much tamer and gayer than usual, though XD;
Yoochun sighs and scans the crowd inside the club, nursing his third martini and hoping to see a familiar face before dying of sheer boredom. All the hot guys around him seem to be already paired off, so when he spots the tall, attractive, unaccompanied young man making his way towards the counter he sits up straight and tries to look sexy and mysterious. He can tell he's not the only one who has noticed the boy - at least judging by all the heads that turn as he passes by - but he cuts through the crowd like Moses crossing the Red Sea and ignores the interested looks and the hands reaching out to stop him. Yoochun is in the middle of giving himself an air of calculated boredom when the newcomer glances his way; their eyes lock, and Yoochun sees his eyes widen into the same shocked espression he's sure must be written all over his own face.
Someone bumps into him, nearly making him spill martini all over his pants; when he stops muttering curses and looks up again the boy is gone, and Yoochun tells himself it must've been a hallucination. It couldn't be him, could it?
"You're Yoochun, right? The guy who works at the cafeteria? I knew you looked familiar," someone says, and Yoochun turns around sharply to find himself staring at Shim Changmin's face. The stern glasses he usually wears are gone, and he looks different - sleek and exotic and absolutely stunning, Yoochun thinks with wonder - but it's definitely him, the guy who likes to sit in a corner of the cafeteria with just his textbooks and a cup of sickeningly sweet coffee too keep him company, one of the top students in their college and Yoochun's secret crush since forever.
"Uhhh, yes?" Yoochun offers, still too stunned to manage anything more articulated. His only coherent thought is running along the lines of Oh my god, Shim-fucking-Changmin is talking to me in a gay club, and the feeling of drunken elation coming from it has nothing to do with the alcohol he's been drinking.
Maybe it's just Yoochun's imagination, but he think he sees Changmin's face fall a little at his lame reply and mentally kicks himself.
"You're Changmin, aren't you? I didn't recognize you at first,” he lies quickly, flashing Changmin his most charming smile. “Do you come here often?”
Changmin shrugs and gives him a guarded look. “Not really. I was supposed to meet with someone, but he just called to say he can't come anymore.”
The way he says it makes Yoochun frown, but if the annoyed look in Changmin's eyes is anything to go by, he's better off not asking.
“Trance is a cool place,” he says instead, “and right now it's gotten even cooler.”
He looks at Changmin with a winning grin, but the other doesn't seem particularly impressed by Yoochun's pick-up skills. He can almost hear his friend Jaejoong's voice in his head, snickering 'how lame, Yoochunah' and laughing his ass off.
“You didn't seem to be having much fun, before,” Changmin observes snidely, hopping on the stool beside his and leaning against the counter. Transfixed, Yoochun stares at the way Changmin's dark locks brush the shoulders of his jacket, and wonder how they would feel between his fingers.
“Maybe I was just lacking the right company, before,” he suggests. “Want something to drink?”
Changmin smirks at him - Yoochun's never loved that expression so much before - and takes a long sip of Yoochun's martini.
“One of these will do, thanks” he says, giving him a cocky glance from over the rim of the cocktail glass.
----
Thirty minutes and several drinks later Yoochun manages to drag a somewhat unwilling Changmin to the dance floor.
“I can't dance!” the younger man shouts at him over the blaring music.
“It's dark and the place is packed, nobody is going to notice!” Yoochun shouts back.
Changmin looks at Yoochun's fingers curled around his wrist with mild annoyance, obviously debating whether to wrench his arm free and tell him to fuck off now or later on.
Feeling brave, Yoochun smiles and gives his wrist a gentle squeeze. By some miracle it seems to work, because Changmin lets him lead to the middle of the dancing crowd without further protests.
They dance awkwardly, at first, and he can tell that Changmin is trying really hard not to make a fool of himself and not to dance too close to anybody - including Yoochun, much to Yoochun's dismay - but when he realizes it's true that nobody is taking notice of his lack of dancing skills he relaxes visibly.
“Hey, you're pretty good for someone who just said he couldn't dance,” Yoochun says, slightly breathless. The only thing he gets is a skeptical glance, but he really means it. Changmin moves with a sort of feline, loose-limbed grace, seemingly unconscious of his own appeal, and once again Yoochun finds himself staring.
“Ow, sorry,” Changmin mutters into Yoochun's neck when a particularly enthusiastic movement of the guy dancing behind him sends him tumbling straight into his arms.
“It's okay,” Yoochun says brightly, steadying him and thanking every single deity he knows for granting his wishes (one of them, at least). He slips a casual arm around Changmin's waist, holding him close while they sway more or less in time with the beat.
Changmin gives him a sharp look, then shakes his head and laughs and doesn't pull away. Yoochun realizes that in six long months of Changmin-watching he's never seen him laugh so freely, and feels rather proud of himself.
“What?” the younger man asks, probably noticing the way Yoochun is gaping at him like a lovesick idiot.
“Just thinking you should leave your glasses at home more often,” he replies earnestly, “and smile more, instead of looking so solemn all the time. You're much cuter this way.”
Yoochun traces the corner of Changmin's lips with light, reverent fingers, and is surprised when the other doesn't even attempt to pull away; he just stares at Yoochun with a look of uncertainty and surprise written on his face.
He does have nice eyes, Yoochun thinks dreamily, unable to resist the temptation of running his fingers along the strong line of Changmin's jaw up to his cheekbone.
“Have you been watching me?” Changmin asks, so quietly that Yoochun nearly misses the question.
“I- what? Well, yes,” he blurts out, taken aback by the sudden question. “For quite a while, actually.”
He expects Changmin to laugh at him, and that's exactly what he does - except it's a nervous, almost relieved kind of laugh, not the sarcastic snicker he was expecting.
“You're an idiot,” he says to Yoochun, very seriously. Then he fists his hands into the front of Yoochun's shirt and crashes their lips together.
Yoochun's eyes water in pain - he's pretty sure he's split his lip against Changmin's teeth, because he can taste blood in his mouth - and the kiss is as stiff and awkward as it can be, but he's pretty damn sure he's never felt so elated in his whole life.
Changmin pulls away hastily, refusing to meet Yoochun's eyes. Yoochun can tell he's blushing even in the dim light of the club, and that comes somewhat as a shock to him, who didn't know Changmin could be anything but cool and collected and snarky. The sight is oddly endearing, but he values his life too much to say that out loud.
“Hey, do you want to go and talk outside? I can't even hear myself, in here.”
He takes Changmin's hand, unable to keep the silly grin off his face, but even Changmin looks like he's having trouble not to look too pleased, and on the way out he never lets go of Yoochun's hand.
---
Thanks for reading! &hearts