Knowing (Jongho)
Title: Knowing or Rain or Why The Hell Isn't He Getting Sick
Genre: AU, Romance, Fluff
Words: 2579
Rating: PG
Summary: Why, out of all things, it's always the rain that manages to pull him out of his bed and into the wet and dark streets of the city, he doesn't know.
Warnings: Writing done under the influence of medecine.
A/N: I don't even know. I am sick, I am bored, I wanted to write. I rambled, I think. So if it sounds weird, I blame the meds. I'm completely innocent. I also think I might have gotten tangled up with the tenses.
Why, out of all things, it’s always the rain that manages to pull him out of his bed and into the wet and dark streets of the city, he doesn’t know. It could be the emptiness of the sidewalks as everyone rushes into the next best store or café to find shelter from the raindrops. It could be the feeling of the city getting washed clean by the water being sent down from the sky. Or it could just be that Jonghyun really likes wandering through heavy drops without an umbrella, feeling each and every one of them soak through his clothes and cling to his skin.
He realizes that it makes much more sense to dislike the pouring charges from the clouds. After all “you can get sick and wet and you’ll ruin our apartment when you’re walking back in!” is what he always hears his roommate say, but Jonghyun, for some strange reason, doesn’t really care. It’s not like he does it every day anyway.
This time isn’t any different from all the other ones before. It’s just as wet and empty out on the streets as it always is, maybe a little warmer than the last time. June is approaching rather quickly. Jonghyun doesn’t need the thick coat he had usually worn for his outings, just a small, blue cardigan this time. The sleeves are rolled up too. Why not feel the raindrops directly on his skin for once?
His feet drag him through one street after the other, and he doesn’t actually pay any attention to where he is going. He doesn’t need to, either. His walks have shown him enough of this town to know how to get back afterwards.
It’s at a small park that they stop, and Jonghyun looks up. The trees look nice, green and leafy and alive, water dripping from their branches. He concludes that he likes it here, it’s calm and empty and comfortable. He looks around for a bench or anything similar that can or will do as a momentary resting spot. He finds a small bench just under a spruce. He sighs once, content, closing his eyes and sitting down,
It’s after a few deep breaths that he gets the feeling that he isn’t alone, and after another two, someone is actually speaking.
“You’re all wet.”
It isn’t a question. It makes Jonghyun chuckle, but not because it’s funny. There isn’t a hint of surprise in the male voice, no surprise, which Jonghyun would expect anyone to have when they see someone getting soaked in the rain.
Jonghyun cracks one of his chocolate eyes open, only to see just as dark ones staring back at him. He gives the other person a quick once over and really, he can’t deny that he is pleased with what he sees. Dark, slightly wavy hair, big eyes, full lips and a nice body from what can be distinguished from the clothes clinging to it, just as soaked and wet as Jonghyun’s own ones.
He chuckles again.
“You are, too.”
There’s silence after that, but it isn’t unpleasant. Quite the contrary. Jonghyun is mildly wondering why it doesn’t bother him that he gets disturbed in his alone time with the city, the sky and the nature, but he guesses it’s just how some things are supposed to be. Uncomplicated and easy.
“What’s your name?” The deep rumble of the other’s voice gives quite a nice harmony with the sounds of the raindrops hitting the leaves, the bench, the ground and himself. Jonghyun knows that he has found something that enhances the moment, rather than ruining it.
But it shouldn’t be that easy.
“You seem younger than I am, shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that question?” Jonghyun closes his eyes again and turns his face up towards the clouds, drop after drop hitting his skin.
The chuckle the other lets out suits the moment so much that Jonghyun is sure the man was born beneath the pouring shadow of a raincloud.
“Minho.”
Jonghyun opens his eyes once more and fleetly checks Minho’s face. Yes, that name fits perfectly.
“Jonghyun.” He replies and a smile tugs at his lips.
*****
“You’re here again today.” He hears Minho say as he sits down onto the bench under the spruce, wet clothes tugging at his body.
“You are, too.” Jonghyun replies simply, enjoying the comfortable ambiance in their spot.
It has become their spot, Minho and his. They didn’t say it, they never talked about it, but the rain kind of settled that for them.
“It’s monsoon season.” Is all Minho answers, his voice just as smooth and rumbly deep as it has been the last times.
Jonghyun smiles. Yes, it is. It rains almost every day, making the moist heat of late July a little less hard to endure, if not almost easy. Sweat washes away, and there is no need to change your clothes if you get wet anyway. It’s the time of year Jonghyun spends his time outside the most, for obvious reasons. The only thing that bothers him is the slightly increased human activity outside on the streets, as one can barely spend time outside without it raining, but he figures that as long as this park stays rather unnoticed to crowds, he is fine.
Looking to his side, he sees Minho playing with his own hands, but his eyes wander through the green around them. Affection washes over Jonghyun and he shakes his head, sending water out of his hair flying onto his surroundings.
“Hey, be careful, you’re splashing me!” Minho exclaims as the unexpected drops hit his bare biceps. Jonghyun simply looks at him, one eyebrow cocked up in amusement.
“Seriously, Minho?” He laughs, loud and deep, because he feels like it. There is something about this, Jonghyun knows. There is something about the way they meet up every time it rains, about the way they sit next to each other mostly in silence, about the way Jonghyun seems to know Minho a lot better than Minho thinks, about the way Minho asks a lot more questions usually than Jonghyun does. There is something about the way their eyes meet and time seems to stop for that short moment and then they look away again. Jonghyun knows it, but he wouldn’t say anything. He doesn’t know if Minho knows, either, and maybe that is what is holding him in check.
Maybe if Minho knows. He tells himself that all the time. Maybe if he knows.
But until know, Minho hasn’t shown that he knows. And what Jonghyun doesn’t know is that he himself hasn’t shown he knows it either.
So Jonghyun keeps on laughing. Minho joins him, first with deep chuckles, later with full guffaws of laughter. Rain drops into their mouths but they don’t care, it doesn’t matter.
It’s rain, and it brought them together. It’s rain, and they like it.
*****
Two weeks later and Jonghyun is restless. It’s raining again, after three days of radiant and unwelcomed sunshine. He can’t wait to get outside and onto the streets, to the park and sit on the bench. He can’t wait to see Minho, can’t wait to hear his voice, can’t wait to bathe in the joint appreciation for the sounds of the raindrops hitting the surfaces around them. But most of all he can’t wait to not have to wait anymore.
Jonghyun has thought a lot about how he can see if Minho knows, too. If Minho would just know, he could just say something. But for once since he has met Minho, things don’t seem to be as easy as they looked.
Jonghyun arrives at their spot. It’s empty, and for some reason Jonghyun doesn’t feel so good about that. Normally Minho is the one sitting there first, waiting for him, wet and soaked and perfect. There are times when Jonghyun comes first, but those times aren’t common. He isn’t a morning person, so he spends his mornings trying to get his feet out of bed. Though it has gotten better ever since it’s their spot, and Minho is waiting for him..
Sitting down, Jonghyun hopes this one is one of those times. Minho would probably be coming around the familiar bushes soon, and Jonghyun just has to wait. He doesn’t like to wait, but he will because it’s Minho.
The first hour passes. Jonghyun looks up frequently, hopefully, every time he hears anything that isn’t the raindrops pouring loudly onto his shoulders.
The second hour passes, and Jonghyun is getting more and more anxious. It isn’t like Minho to come this late. The younger doesn’t like to keep others waiting, Jonghyun knows that. He fidgets, but he can’t do anything other than keep sitting there.
After five hours, Jonghyun knows that Minho won’t come. He feels weird. He feels sad, lonely, and disappointed. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He just sits there, head down, elbows slumping on his thighs.
Minho has never kept him waiting. Well, Minho has never not come, either.
*****
It’s still monsoon season, and it’s still hot and sweaty and moist outside. It’s been thirteen times that Jonghyun has been waiting for Minho at their spot, and it has been thirteen times that Minho hasn’t shown up.
Jonghyun is a moody mess. He loops around his apartment, never going out but on rain showers, coming back wet and soaked and dejected. He changes from worried to angry to depressed in ten minutes, and even his usually obnoxious roommate has stopped nagging him for coming home all messy and wet.
Jonghyun has a hard time sleeping, his dreams catching up with his situation faster than he wants them to. Holding Minho and seeing him evaporate in his arms is the most frequent one, and Jonghyun doesn’t like it. In fact, he dislikes it so much that he tries to stay up night after night, draining both his body and mind from all energy.
Key often tries to make him hot tea and slip in some sleeping medicine, but Jonghyun is much too lost in his own world to even touch the things his roommate brings into his room. He doesn’t want to leave the bed, nor does he want to spend time in it, making his frustration a vicious circle he can only break during the pouring rain, and even then the absence of Minho sets him back into it.
Sometimes Jonghyun wonders. He wonders if he really knows what he thinks he knows.
He wonders if he really knows that Minho is Minho. He wonders if he knows that Minho likes the rain, soccer, basketball, wonders if he knows Minho is taller than him by more than five inches, wonders if he knows Minho isn’t usually good at small talk, cooking and picking up on subtle humor. He also wonders if he really knows what it feels like to sit next to Minho, to let his warmth spread in his soaked muscles, to meet his eyes, to see his smiles, to smell his scent. He wonders so much that in the end he isn’t sure about anything, isn’t sure if Minho really exists or if he makes him up. But it’s funny how through all the wondering and the confusion, he still knows the most important thing.
And maybe, Jonghyun thinks, maybe he doesn’t know a lot. But maybe, he also thinks, he doesn’t need to know a lot more than knowing that he likes Minho so, so much.
It’s at that thought that he looks out of his window. It’s morning already, he notes, and it’s raining.
Jonghyun has a sudden surge of energy that he can’t explain. He doesn’t want to explain it either, because something just feels easy and right today. In fact, things haven’t felt this easy and light for a few weeks.
He struts out onto the streets, registering the familiar feeling of the rain soaking through his body. Today it engulfs him so welcoming that he lets out a surprised chuckle, swirling once and receiving weird looks from the people scooting around him with their umbrellas. Jonghyun thinks they are silly and moves on.
His feet really know the way to the park so well that Jonghyun thinks he could find it with his eyes closed. Maybe he really can, but that is something to find out the next time, he decides.
His feet skip excitedly over the damp ground, pulling him forward. He really can’t explain to himself why he is feeling so giddy and energetic after such a long time of chronic bad mood. But maybe he doesn’t need to know why. Yes, he concludes, he doesn’t always need to know why.
His feet stop around the corner to their spot, their spot because Jonghyun refuses to call it his spot after the past few weeks, before his eyes even register why. When they do though, his chest is tight and clamping and something in there tugs very hard at his gut.
“Hey.” Minho says, his eyes locked onto Jonghyun’s, and Jonghyun swallows.
He wonders what he should say, if he should say something at all, if he should scream or if he should stay silent. He isn’t sure what he would say if he did speak, so he thinks staying silent is the best.
Minho’s eyes are still looking into his, and Jonghyun sees that they are searching for something. Then he feels them sliding down, roaming his face and his body before coming up once again.
“You look like crap.”
Jonghyun closes his eyes and reopens them, to make sure he isn’t dreaming to make sure he isn’t hallucinating. But when he opens them he is there, Minho is still there, still looking at him.
It’s then that Jonghyun realizes something in the way Minho looks at him, and he feels a rush of apprehension run through him.
Minho knows. Minho knows what Jonghyun has known all along. It’s in the way Minho looks at him right now, it’s in the way their eyes meet, it’s in the way his body is angling towards him. Jonghyun smiles, despite the last few weeks. He smiles despite the anger he has felt, despite the loneliness, despite the hours upon hours of waiting, of being alone without a hint as to why. He smiles because for some reason, it’s easy. It’s as easy as the first time they met, it’s as easy as feeling the raindrops on his skin.
And most of all it’s as easy as rushing forward and enveloping Minho in a secure and tight hug, one that the other man returns, one that let’s each of them know that the other knows, one that stops all insecurities.
It doesn’t matter to Jonghyun where Minho went. Nothing matters, in fact, as he feels Minho’s breath on his neck, hears the sweet words Minho’s voice pours into his ear along with the rain.
Jonghyun likes the rain. He doesn’t wonder anymore why it’s the rain of all things that always drags him out of his apartment. It could have been the emptiness of the sidewalks as he skips down the streets, it could have been the city being washed clean from everything, it could have been the rain itself. But Jonghyun is sure that while those could have been minor reasons, there was a lot more prominent one.
Jonghyun likes the rain because Minho likes it, too.
Genre: AU, Romance, Fluff
Words: 2579
Rating: PG
Summary: Why, out of all things, it's always the rain that manages to pull him out of his bed and into the wet and dark streets of the city, he doesn't know.
Warnings: Writing done under the influence of medecine.
A/N: I don't even know. I am sick, I am bored, I wanted to write. I rambled, I think. So if it sounds weird, I blame the meds. I'm completely innocent. I also think I might have gotten tangled up with the tenses.
Why, out of all things, it’s always the rain that manages to pull him out of his bed and into the wet and dark streets of the city, he doesn’t know. It could be the emptiness of the sidewalks as everyone rushes into the next best store or café to find shelter from the raindrops. It could be the feeling of the city getting washed clean by the water being sent down from the sky. Or it could just be that Jonghyun really likes wandering through heavy drops without an umbrella, feeling each and every one of them soak through his clothes and cling to his skin.
He realizes that it makes much more sense to dislike the pouring charges from the clouds. After all “you can get sick and wet and you’ll ruin our apartment when you’re walking back in!” is what he always hears his roommate say, but Jonghyun, for some strange reason, doesn’t really care. It’s not like he does it every day anyway.
This time isn’t any different from all the other ones before. It’s just as wet and empty out on the streets as it always is, maybe a little warmer than the last time. June is approaching rather quickly. Jonghyun doesn’t need the thick coat he had usually worn for his outings, just a small, blue cardigan this time. The sleeves are rolled up too. Why not feel the raindrops directly on his skin for once?
His feet drag him through one street after the other, and he doesn’t actually pay any attention to where he is going. He doesn’t need to, either. His walks have shown him enough of this town to know how to get back afterwards.
It’s at a small park that they stop, and Jonghyun looks up. The trees look nice, green and leafy and alive, water dripping from their branches. He concludes that he likes it here, it’s calm and empty and comfortable. He looks around for a bench or anything similar that can or will do as a momentary resting spot. He finds a small bench just under a spruce. He sighs once, content, closing his eyes and sitting down,
It’s after a few deep breaths that he gets the feeling that he isn’t alone, and after another two, someone is actually speaking.
“You’re all wet.”
It isn’t a question. It makes Jonghyun chuckle, but not because it’s funny. There isn’t a hint of surprise in the male voice, no surprise, which Jonghyun would expect anyone to have when they see someone getting soaked in the rain.
Jonghyun cracks one of his chocolate eyes open, only to see just as dark ones staring back at him. He gives the other person a quick once over and really, he can’t deny that he is pleased with what he sees. Dark, slightly wavy hair, big eyes, full lips and a nice body from what can be distinguished from the clothes clinging to it, just as soaked and wet as Jonghyun’s own ones.
He chuckles again.
“You are, too.”
There’s silence after that, but it isn’t unpleasant. Quite the contrary. Jonghyun is mildly wondering why it doesn’t bother him that he gets disturbed in his alone time with the city, the sky and the nature, but he guesses it’s just how some things are supposed to be. Uncomplicated and easy.
“What’s your name?” The deep rumble of the other’s voice gives quite a nice harmony with the sounds of the raindrops hitting the leaves, the bench, the ground and himself. Jonghyun knows that he has found something that enhances the moment, rather than ruining it.
But it shouldn’t be that easy.
“You seem younger than I am, shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that question?” Jonghyun closes his eyes again and turns his face up towards the clouds, drop after drop hitting his skin.
The chuckle the other lets out suits the moment so much that Jonghyun is sure the man was born beneath the pouring shadow of a raincloud.
“Minho.”
Jonghyun opens his eyes once more and fleetly checks Minho’s face. Yes, that name fits perfectly.
“Jonghyun.” He replies and a smile tugs at his lips.
*****
“You’re here again today.” He hears Minho say as he sits down onto the bench under the spruce, wet clothes tugging at his body.
“You are, too.” Jonghyun replies simply, enjoying the comfortable ambiance in their spot.
It has become their spot, Minho and his. They didn’t say it, they never talked about it, but the rain kind of settled that for them.
“It’s monsoon season.” Is all Minho answers, his voice just as smooth and rumbly deep as it has been the last times.
Jonghyun smiles. Yes, it is. It rains almost every day, making the moist heat of late July a little less hard to endure, if not almost easy. Sweat washes away, and there is no need to change your clothes if you get wet anyway. It’s the time of year Jonghyun spends his time outside the most, for obvious reasons. The only thing that bothers him is the slightly increased human activity outside on the streets, as one can barely spend time outside without it raining, but he figures that as long as this park stays rather unnoticed to crowds, he is fine.
Looking to his side, he sees Minho playing with his own hands, but his eyes wander through the green around them. Affection washes over Jonghyun and he shakes his head, sending water out of his hair flying onto his surroundings.
“Hey, be careful, you’re splashing me!” Minho exclaims as the unexpected drops hit his bare biceps. Jonghyun simply looks at him, one eyebrow cocked up in amusement.
“Seriously, Minho?” He laughs, loud and deep, because he feels like it. There is something about this, Jonghyun knows. There is something about the way they meet up every time it rains, about the way they sit next to each other mostly in silence, about the way Jonghyun seems to know Minho a lot better than Minho thinks, about the way Minho asks a lot more questions usually than Jonghyun does. There is something about the way their eyes meet and time seems to stop for that short moment and then they look away again. Jonghyun knows it, but he wouldn’t say anything. He doesn’t know if Minho knows, either, and maybe that is what is holding him in check.
Maybe if Minho knows. He tells himself that all the time. Maybe if he knows.
But until know, Minho hasn’t shown that he knows. And what Jonghyun doesn’t know is that he himself hasn’t shown he knows it either.
So Jonghyun keeps on laughing. Minho joins him, first with deep chuckles, later with full guffaws of laughter. Rain drops into their mouths but they don’t care, it doesn’t matter.
It’s rain, and it brought them together. It’s rain, and they like it.
*****
Two weeks later and Jonghyun is restless. It’s raining again, after three days of radiant and unwelcomed sunshine. He can’t wait to get outside and onto the streets, to the park and sit on the bench. He can’t wait to see Minho, can’t wait to hear his voice, can’t wait to bathe in the joint appreciation for the sounds of the raindrops hitting the surfaces around them. But most of all he can’t wait to not have to wait anymore.
Jonghyun has thought a lot about how he can see if Minho knows, too. If Minho would just know, he could just say something. But for once since he has met Minho, things don’t seem to be as easy as they looked.
Jonghyun arrives at their spot. It’s empty, and for some reason Jonghyun doesn’t feel so good about that. Normally Minho is the one sitting there first, waiting for him, wet and soaked and perfect. There are times when Jonghyun comes first, but those times aren’t common. He isn’t a morning person, so he spends his mornings trying to get his feet out of bed. Though it has gotten better ever since it’s their spot, and Minho is waiting for him..
Sitting down, Jonghyun hopes this one is one of those times. Minho would probably be coming around the familiar bushes soon, and Jonghyun just has to wait. He doesn’t like to wait, but he will because it’s Minho.
The first hour passes. Jonghyun looks up frequently, hopefully, every time he hears anything that isn’t the raindrops pouring loudly onto his shoulders.
The second hour passes, and Jonghyun is getting more and more anxious. It isn’t like Minho to come this late. The younger doesn’t like to keep others waiting, Jonghyun knows that. He fidgets, but he can’t do anything other than keep sitting there.
After five hours, Jonghyun knows that Minho won’t come. He feels weird. He feels sad, lonely, and disappointed. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He just sits there, head down, elbows slumping on his thighs.
Minho has never kept him waiting. Well, Minho has never not come, either.
*****
It’s still monsoon season, and it’s still hot and sweaty and moist outside. It’s been thirteen times that Jonghyun has been waiting for Minho at their spot, and it has been thirteen times that Minho hasn’t shown up.
Jonghyun is a moody mess. He loops around his apartment, never going out but on rain showers, coming back wet and soaked and dejected. He changes from worried to angry to depressed in ten minutes, and even his usually obnoxious roommate has stopped nagging him for coming home all messy and wet.
Jonghyun has a hard time sleeping, his dreams catching up with his situation faster than he wants them to. Holding Minho and seeing him evaporate in his arms is the most frequent one, and Jonghyun doesn’t like it. In fact, he dislikes it so much that he tries to stay up night after night, draining both his body and mind from all energy.
Key often tries to make him hot tea and slip in some sleeping medicine, but Jonghyun is much too lost in his own world to even touch the things his roommate brings into his room. He doesn’t want to leave the bed, nor does he want to spend time in it, making his frustration a vicious circle he can only break during the pouring rain, and even then the absence of Minho sets him back into it.
Sometimes Jonghyun wonders. He wonders if he really knows what he thinks he knows.
He wonders if he really knows that Minho is Minho. He wonders if he knows that Minho likes the rain, soccer, basketball, wonders if he knows Minho is taller than him by more than five inches, wonders if he knows Minho isn’t usually good at small talk, cooking and picking up on subtle humor. He also wonders if he really knows what it feels like to sit next to Minho, to let his warmth spread in his soaked muscles, to meet his eyes, to see his smiles, to smell his scent. He wonders so much that in the end he isn’t sure about anything, isn’t sure if Minho really exists or if he makes him up. But it’s funny how through all the wondering and the confusion, he still knows the most important thing.
And maybe, Jonghyun thinks, maybe he doesn’t know a lot. But maybe, he also thinks, he doesn’t need to know a lot more than knowing that he likes Minho so, so much.
It’s at that thought that he looks out of his window. It’s morning already, he notes, and it’s raining.
Jonghyun has a sudden surge of energy that he can’t explain. He doesn’t want to explain it either, because something just feels easy and right today. In fact, things haven’t felt this easy and light for a few weeks.
He struts out onto the streets, registering the familiar feeling of the rain soaking through his body. Today it engulfs him so welcoming that he lets out a surprised chuckle, swirling once and receiving weird looks from the people scooting around him with their umbrellas. Jonghyun thinks they are silly and moves on.
His feet really know the way to the park so well that Jonghyun thinks he could find it with his eyes closed. Maybe he really can, but that is something to find out the next time, he decides.
His feet skip excitedly over the damp ground, pulling him forward. He really can’t explain to himself why he is feeling so giddy and energetic after such a long time of chronic bad mood. But maybe he doesn’t need to know why. Yes, he concludes, he doesn’t always need to know why.
His feet stop around the corner to their spot, their spot because Jonghyun refuses to call it his spot after the past few weeks, before his eyes even register why. When they do though, his chest is tight and clamping and something in there tugs very hard at his gut.
“Hey.” Minho says, his eyes locked onto Jonghyun’s, and Jonghyun swallows.
He wonders what he should say, if he should say something at all, if he should scream or if he should stay silent. He isn’t sure what he would say if he did speak, so he thinks staying silent is the best.
Minho’s eyes are still looking into his, and Jonghyun sees that they are searching for something. Then he feels them sliding down, roaming his face and his body before coming up once again.
“You look like crap.”
Jonghyun closes his eyes and reopens them, to make sure he isn’t dreaming to make sure he isn’t hallucinating. But when he opens them he is there, Minho is still there, still looking at him.
It’s then that Jonghyun realizes something in the way Minho looks at him, and he feels a rush of apprehension run through him.
Minho knows. Minho knows what Jonghyun has known all along. It’s in the way Minho looks at him right now, it’s in the way their eyes meet, it’s in the way his body is angling towards him. Jonghyun smiles, despite the last few weeks. He smiles despite the anger he has felt, despite the loneliness, despite the hours upon hours of waiting, of being alone without a hint as to why. He smiles because for some reason, it’s easy. It’s as easy as the first time they met, it’s as easy as feeling the raindrops on his skin.
And most of all it’s as easy as rushing forward and enveloping Minho in a secure and tight hug, one that the other man returns, one that let’s each of them know that the other knows, one that stops all insecurities.
It doesn’t matter to Jonghyun where Minho went. Nothing matters, in fact, as he feels Minho’s breath on his neck, hears the sweet words Minho’s voice pours into his ear along with the rain.
Jonghyun likes the rain. He doesn’t wonder anymore why it’s the rain of all things that always drags him out of his apartment. It could have been the emptiness of the sidewalks as he skips down the streets, it could have been the city being washed clean from everything, it could have been the rain itself. But Jonghyun is sure that while those could have been minor reasons, there was a lot more prominent one.
Jonghyun likes the rain because Minho likes it, too.