毕生难忘 (Things We Will Never Forget)
//Pairing//: Xiumin x Chen
//Prompt//: Xiumin and Chen go on a grand food tour of China.
//Rating//: PG
//Word Count//: 5,748
//Author’s Note//: This is the longest fic I’ve ever written, but I had fun with it because it gave me the chance to revisit a couple of places in China that I’ve been to. I really hope this fits the bill!
Originally posted HERE as part of the Xiuchen Fic Fest.
Seoul
Mornings were pretty dismal, Minseok decided, when you found yourself hauling ass (not just one’s own, mind you) across the departure hall of a busy airport. Incheon International Airport wasn’t a walk in the park on the best of days, and it wasn’t any better at 5.45 in the morning, when one had just 45 minutes to get to the boarding gate and catch a plane to China. Right now, all Minseok wanted was to not be surrounded by people who needed to go places and hand over his suitcase to the nice lady at the check-in desk so he could have both hands free for a hassle-free flight.
That, and get himself some breakfast, because his stomach was currently making some pretty ungodly sounds.
It didn’t help that Jongdae, his traveling companion for the impending trip, had fallen asleep on the cab ride to the airport and was trying to keep step with him as they approached the check-in desk, all sleepy eyes and tousled hair. “Do you need help with that?” Minseok didn’t wait for an answer from the other boy before reaching to heft Jongdae’s suitcase on to the conveyer belt.
“My hero,” Jongdae cooed, as his lips curved up into a kittenish smile and he batted his eyelashes at Minseok. Minseok only snorted and nudged Jongdae with his elbow as he tried to stifle an amused chuckle. Time to change the subject. “Jongdae-ah, where’s your passport? Hand it over.”
With boarding passes tucked into their respective pockets, they headed off in search for food. Breakfast came in the form of a rather soggy fast-food breakfast wrap that Jongdae wolfed down rather happily, while Minseok spent his time frowning at the rather lonely piece of limp lettuce peeking out of the top of his wrap.
Before long, they were on the aircraft and comfortably ensconced in their seats, Jongdae bagging the window seat and looking out on to the tarmac as they awaited take-off. Minseok, on the other hand, immersed himself in that morning’s publication of the Seoul Shinmun.
“Are you sure it was a good idea to fly to Beijing first? What if we max out our bellies and decide to bail on the whole trip?”
Minseok looked up at Jongdae in a rather surly fashion, eyebrows furrowed slightly as he peered at him over the top of the free airport newspaper. He held Jongdae’s puppy-like gaze for a couple of seconds before clearing his throat and turning his attention back to the morning’s headlines (Kim Jong-Un’s disappearance may be a trick), all while rustling his paper rather officiously. “Then it’d be your fault,” he said, as he kept his eyes on the lines of printed text in front of him. “Since you veto-ed my suggestion that we end the trip in Beijing, rather than start it.”
More rustling, and Minseok eventually looked up once again when Jongdae remained quiet. That was clearly a bad move, since the sight he was greeted with was Jongdae’s bright almond-shaped eyes peering at him from over the top of his paper, eyebrows slightly raised with just the smallest smidgen of reproach.
“You don’t mean that. Besides, isn’t your old uni friend only going to be in town for the next few day? We couldn’t have ended the trip in Beijing if you wanted to meet him.”
Minseok only harrumphed softly when he got called out thus unceremoniously, falling into rather sullen silence thereafter. It took the plane taxiing and beginning its ascent for him to put his newspaper away and throw an apologetic glance in Jongdae’s direction. “Sorry.” His eyebrows and the corners of his lips re-arranged themselves in a mildly sheepish expression as he spoke, while picking at an imaginary bit of fluff on Jongdae’s airline-issue blanket. “It’s been a rushed morning.”
Jongdae only smiled and reached over to pat Minseok’s forearm gently. “I would give you the cold shoulder, but we’re stuck with each other for the next couple of weeks, so I’m going to tell you it’s okay, and let’s get along.” He chuckled softly, before gently swatting Minseok’s hand away from his blanket. “But please stop picking at my blanket - I don’t want a hole in it before we’ve even fully left the ground.”
Beijing
Their passage into Beijing wasn’t too bad - Minseok’s friend from university, a boy called Luhan with eyelashes longer than a camel (most accurate description, in Jongdae’s own humble opinion), met them at the airport, hustling them both through the arrivals hall with surprising efficiency. Jongdae sat in the back of Luhan’s BMW coupe while Minseok rode shotgun with their host, both talking nineteen to the dozen. Jongdae idly scrolled through his social media feeds during the half hour long ride out from Beijing Capital International Airport to the city center, half-dozing as he occasionally glanced out the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of the city proper, instead of the decidedly gray expressway.
“You okay back there?”
Minseok’s voice brought Jongdae back from his almost-daydream (of Lee Minho’s character in The Heirs rescuing him rather gallantly from a near brush with a reckless bicycle - hey, a boy could hope) and back to the confines of Luhan’s car. “Um, yeah - of course,” he said, airily brushing the question off before motioning for Minseok to resume his catching up with Luhan the Camel-Lashed. Minseok had always been like that - that is, doting in a strange, detached kind of way. At least, that was how things seemed to Jongdae. The other boy was thoughtful to a fault, in his big brother way, and while Jongdae appreciated the concern sometimes, other times it just gnawed at his consciousness because god, Kim Jongdae was a grown man, and he didn’t need to be babysat.
Minseok smiled in response and reached back to pat Jongdae’s knee in a friendly fashion. “I just figured you were being really quiet. Luhan here speaks Korean too, you know, there won’t be a language barrier, or anything.” From the driver’s seat, Luhan snorted and spouted a rather impressive stream of near-fluent Korean - something to the effect that his Korean was rather rusty, and Minseok was the only person keeping him in practice (never mind that Jongdae understood 80% of whatever Luhan said in Chinese - night classes, for the win).
It might have been the leftover turbulence from the plane, but the blatant flirty undertones in Luhan’s voice made Jongdae want to gag.
Instant dislike (and infuriatingly long lashes) aside, Jongdae had to admit that Luhan was a pretty decent host. After dropping off their stuff at his studio apartment, he drove Minseok and Jongdae to the gates of the Forbidden City. “For photo ops,” Luhan said, as he nudged Minseok playfully in the ribs. Minseok only groaned and muttered something about how much he hated the way his cheeks looked in pictures before Jongdae sighed to himself and wandered off to take a picture of a rather interesting looking ceiling beam.
Minseok caught up with him as he made his way across Tiananmen Square (while the very patriotic Chinese national anthem blared through the venue’s PA system). “Hello, you dashed off like a shot - I was gonna get you to take a photo with me.” Jongdae barely turned around as he focused his camera lens on taking a panoramic view of the scenery (failing miserably, since his little point-and-shoot couldn’t really accommodate the breadth of the view before him), merely shrugging in acknowledgment of Minseok’s presence as he carefully sidestepped a military man and his blushing bride who were taking their wedding photos.
“Thought you were busy sightseeing with Luhan-ssi.”
The statement sounded unduly reproachful, and Jongdae lowered his camera to jut his lower lip out at Minseok, suddenly apologetic for his behavior. If Minseok noticed, however, he didn’t give any indication that he did, and linked his arm with Jongdae’s.
“After you’ve walked diagonally across the square, there isn’t that much to see - come on, let’s take that photo quickly. Luhan says he wants to bring us to this famous night market.” Minseok grinned as he walked Jongdae back to Luhan’s car. “Right on time, too. I could eat. I’m starved. Now smile and say ddeokbokki?” With that, Minseok clicked his phone on and put one arm around Jongdae’s shoulders, grinning broadly as he snapped the cheesiest selfie ever.
Wangfujing night market was rather more exciting than Jongdae had anticipated, thanks to the very colloquial sights and sounds of night-time Beijing, which made Jongdae feel like he had stepped into China’s answer to Seoul’s Dongdaemun - only with the addition of cooked caterpillars, scorpions and other creepy crawlies into the mix. Within five minutes of alighting, he was assailed with the oily scent of deep-fried starfish on a stick from a nearby stall. “Ew,” Minseok wrinkled his nose and averted his gaze, before tugging on Luhan’s sleeve, silently asking that they beat a hasty retreat (and possibly go in search of some candied haws).
Jongdae, however, was rather drawn to the idea of eating a starfish, and ended up buying one just for fun. He made an unwilling Minseok take the inaugural picture of him taking a sizeable bite out of said starfish before posting the image on Instagram with the caption:
“Tasty! Wandering the night market in Beijing with @minseokkim.”
(Minseok resisted all of Jongdae’s attempts at trying to get him to share his fried starfish with him though)
The night came to an end at a roadside hotpot stall with each of them dunking chunks of meat into a copper pot filled to the brim with steaming soup broth. Jongdae wanted to ask if they were going to go the tourist trap route and go for a round of Peking roast duck as well (he wasn’t at all averse to subjecting himself to being scalped for it either - to complete the tourist experience), but didn’t because eating steaming hotpot on a rather chilly evening was just the antidote he needed.
“Come, eat more while the fire’s hot.” Minseok’s voice invaded Jongdae’s happy, hazy thoughts as a choice piece of beef found its way atop his rice bowl. When Jongdae looked up, the first things he saw were Minseok’s eyebrows waggling at him as he motioned for him to eat up. “The shopkeeper just told Luhan that we only have 60 minutes to eat, and we’re already at 45 minutes but I haven’t even touched the seafood yet.” Minseok turned his attention back to his rice bowl, chopsticks held aloft as he decided what to eat next. “Besides, we’ve got a train to catch.”
Luhan dropped them off at the station with their bags, after unsuccessfully trying to convince Minseok that staying over at his apartment for the night and taking the first train out of Beijing would be less hectic. Jongdae waited until after they had boarded the late-night train to Qufu (hometown of Confucius! the brochures gaily declared) to ask about the sudden change of plan.
“How come you didn’t want to stay over at Luhan’s place for another night?” (Honorifics, be damned). “I thought we were intending to spend a bit more time in Beijing.”
Minseok only shook his head and shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.” It took another moment for him to look up at Jongdae and give him a half-smile as he hit the nail right on the head. “I got the feeling you didn’t really feel like it either.”
Jongdae only ducked his head sheepishly in acknowledgement of Minseok’s astuteness.
“Anyway,” Minseok checked his watch and pouted as he calculated the estimated time of their arrival in Qufu. “Better get some sleep, Jongdae, it’s a six-hour ride.”
Qufu
The train pulled in to Qufu station just as the sun was rising, and Jongdae nudged Minseok awake as the first of the morning sunbeams seeped in through the cabin. Minseok just rubbed his eyes and surreptitiously tried to wipe the trickle of drool that had somehow managed to find its way to the edge of his mouth during the night, furrowing his brows at his traveling companion in the hope that the other boy hadn’t noticed.
“What are you, did you even close your eyes?” he asked, as the younger boy just grinned his cat-like smile and shrugged his shoulders rather enigmatically. “Smile!” Next thing he knew, he heard the click as Jongdae snapped a picture with his phone that was undoubtedly going to find its way to social media once again (and it did, with the rather sprightly caption of “Good morning sunshine! @minseokkim” in stark contrast to Minseok’s decidedly non-sprightly countenance). Jongdae had been scrolling through his Instagram feed (or something) the night before when Minseok had decided to call it a night, and yet here he was, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like the morning person that he was. Admittedly, it was rather infectious, and by the time Jongdae offered him a cup of instant coffee, along with a couple of rectangular bags of sweetener (Minseok was on a reduced-sugar diet), Minseok was very much on board with Jongdae’s brand of sunniness.
“Says here we should definitely visit the Temple of Confucius, Confucius Mansion and Forest of Confucius.” Jongdae’s voice lilted in his refined tone as he read from the brochure they had somehow acquired upon boarding. By the time they disembarked at Qufu station, Jongdae had successfully managed to convince Minseok that a full-day tour of Confucian everything was exactly what they needed (though Minseok quickly recanted this thought, much to his dismay). They ended up trekking through halls and temples, houses and mansions, until Minseok thought his feet might go weak from all the walking. Jongdae insisted on stopping and studiously admiring every plaque, mural and artifact with quiet awe, and Minseok couldn’t even wander away without the other boy snaking his arm around his in a bid to keep him by his side. At the rate Jongdae was going, Minseok would be able to recite the Confucian Analects in his sleep, he was certain of it. But Minseok wasn’t a quitter, and he held on till the very last plaque had been admired and its contents duly digested, before enquiring rather innocuously about their dinner plans for the evening.
Jongdae put his digital camera away in its holster while humming in contemplation. “I vote that we eat something awesome tonight.” He said, with certainty in his voice, before crossing his arms across his chest in a way that suggested that he meant business. “Let’s go eat at the restaurant in the hotel - I saw the poster as we were walking out earlier.”
Trust Jongdae to think of everything, and although the notion of having to eat their way through a banquet sounded fairly intimidating, Minseok was more than happy to leave the sight-seeing behind in favor of some good dinner. “You’re the best,” he said rather cheerfully, his mood picking up significantly as he made a beeline for their hotel. Little did he know that he would be in a right dilemma not half an hour later when Jongdae sat them both down at the hotel restaurant for an eight-course banquet based wholly around, you guessed it, Confucian teachings.
“What’s this…?” He said rather weakly, holding up with his chopsticks a thin, stringy morsel of what could only be meat of some description. They had just been served a cold platter based on the “Six Arts” advocated by Confucius (Rites, Music, Archery, Chariot Racing, Calligraphy and Mathematics), and Jongdae was already getting stuck in while Minseok attempted to verify the origins of each food item. “Mm..” The younger boy squinted at the menu while taking a look at the specimen Minseok had enquired about. “Spiced duck tongue,” he replied eventually, before lumping some sea whelk jelly on to Minseok’s plate. “Eat up - all of this is really good, isn’t it?” Minseok felt his stomach do a turn as a result, but he ate anyway - partly because his stomach was growling, and partly because he didn’t want to do Jongdae a disservice by being a bad travel partner. When the bill came, Jongdae only grinned his kittenish grin and casually slid the bill across the table over to Minseok.
“Oldest pays right? Hyung.”
Perhaps Jongdae turning on the charm was his way of trying to seal the deal, but that little detail was forgotten when Minseok’s eyes found the (rather large) figure at the bottom of the receipt. Jongdae only reached over to pat his hand affectionately in a reassuring fashion as he chuckled.
“It’s okay, I’ll buy the next meal.”
Shanghai I
As it turned out, the next meal they had together wasn’t a meal at all. Instead, it involved nothing more than Long Island Iced Teas and a couple or so rounds of tequila. The commute from Qufu to Jinan and the connecting flight to Shanghai had been awful - claustrophobic and noisy - and Minseok’s declaration that he really needed a drink once they disembarked and cleared through customs sparked a little something in Jongdae’s mind. Grabbing the other boy’s hand, he walked them both in the direction of the nearest taxi rank.
“Let’s do something a little bit crazy.”
Before long, they had dropped their things off at the hotel, bypassed the famed Shanghai Bund and ended up in a faux-dive bar in Tianzifang at a round table shielded by a twee parasol, sipping Long Island Iced Teas so chock-full of alcohol they almost ran clear.
“I can taste um…. tequila, vodka, gin, rum… what else is there that I haven’t named?” Jongdae said, sucking thoughtfully on a straw as he spoke. Minseok only snorted at the other boy’s question to the world at large, while sipping his drink rather nonchalantly. “It’s Triple Sec, bitters, and coke - your guesses don’t count because you were peeking at the drinks menu just a second ago, I saw your wandering gaze!” Minseok chuckled and pointed his index finger at Jongdae rather accusingly, which he responded to by raising said drinks menu in an attempt to deflect the playful glare from Minseok’s almond-shaped eyes.
It probably was a little bit rash, to rush out to a bar this early in the day (Jongdae realized that they were probably high-risk targets for being mugged at the moment), but that aside, he reckoned they were both having a rollicking good time, thanks in part to their very enthusiastic bartender and his gift of alcohol. While Jongdae’s half of the table showed rather haphazard signs of his drinking endeavors, everything on Minseok’s side was immaculate - glasses stacked and arranged neatly, and peanut shells laid out on an unfolded napkin to aid removal (a picture of this dichotomy later found its way to Jongdae’s Instagram with the caption - “Obviously @minseokkim is the neat freak on this trip~”).
“Funny this, I never thought that I would be drinking my first ever Long Island Iced Tea, not in Long Island, but in Shanghai.” Minseok set down his now-empty glass with a satisfied air, before smiling broadly at Jongdae. The alcohol had helped him cast off the fatigue of their journey, and now Minseok’s smile was bright and joyful and really made Jongdae’s heart much lighter as well.
“I know, life is funny sometimes, isn’t it?” Jongdae raised his hand to get the attention of Tao, their aforementioned bartender, motioning for him to please bring them a round of tequila shots (a couple of summer jobs moonlighting in a local watering hole back home had taught him drinking lingo he found hard to forget). When the shots and lime wedges landed on their table, Jongdae met Minseok’s gaze and smiled. “You have to divulge a secret after each shot - something you’ve never told anyone in your life.” With that, he licked the back of his hand, sprinkled salt on the spot, licked it again and with an exhale, tossed a shot of tequila down the hatch, since what better time to start a drinking game than the present?
“My favorite color is red.” The sting of the tequila coursed down his throat, and Jongdae winced as he reached for a lime wedge to suck on. Minseok just laughed in response before placing another shot in front of Jongdae (Tao was more than willing to fan the flames of their drinking game and was keeping the shots coming). “You little liar, your favorite color is silver - and I know that for a fact, so take another one, and I’m not having a go till you do that.”
Damn, Minseok was still lucid (while Jongdae’s faculties were getting ever-so-slightly blurred around the edges), despite their liquid lunch. Nevertheless, Jongdae obliged, only frowning slightly this time when he felt his esophagus start to burn thanks to the bitter shot.
“I don’t think Luhan’s as good-looking as everyone thinks he is.” It was the first thing that came to his mind, and well, by his own rules he had asked for secret truths, so God help him, he was prepared to fall by his own sword.
Minseok nodded appraisingly as Jongdae sucked on his lime wedge, before taking his shot. “I agree.” The words were simple and easily strung together, Minseok setting down his empty shot glass before he sucked on his lime wedge.
“Really?” Jongdae’s voice held a twinge of incredulousness as he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I always thought you…” Liked him, had a thing for him, probably fucked him like everyone said you did - Jongdae didn’t get to finish his thought, because Minseok had already waved it away with a dismissive flutter of his fingertips.
“Nah.” As if to even the score, Minseok promptly took another shot, squeezing his eyes shut once the silver liquid had gone down. “He’s not my type.” Again, Minseok’s words were - like him - small and perfectly formed, and perhaps it was the alcohol’s doing, but Jongdae could feel his pulse drumming in his ears as he reached for his next (and second last) shot. His judgment was sufficiently swayed by this point for him to loosen that one particular secret he had been keeping close to his chest, and well, it was time to go large or go home.
“I’ve always liked you.” Perhaps the burning sensation that he felt in his chest was just tequila and not burning shame, since Jongdae actually felt a bit relieved to get that off his chest. He took a moment to lift the taste from his mouth with a wedge of lime before continuing his thought. “But especially since that time two years ago when we kissed and I said I couldn’t remember what happened the day after because I was too drunk. But I do remember, and don’t you dare say something lame like ‘I’ve always liked me too’ - I’ll slap you.” Jongdae’s words slipped past his lips fast and loose, squarely hitting home before his spent lime wedge could hit the plate. “You infuriate me sometimes with your hyung shit.”
Jongdae glanced up to meet Minseok’s gaze, and in that moment, despite all the haziness from before, it felt like he had never been more lucid in his life. Minseok’s eyes were bright - sparkling, almost - with a clarity that hadn’t been there before, and Jongdae’s gaze dipped to the older boy’s pouty lips - still slick with tequila - just as his companion raised a shot glass to his lips.
“I’ve always liked you too.” Jongdae could barely believe his ears when he heard those words fall from Minseok’s lips. Far from his fear of being patronized, Minseok sounded nothing short of genuine as he set the now-empty shot glass aside. “But I’d appreciate it next time if you told me about these things sooner, rather than later.” Minseok’s voice remained level, but bore a tinge of “we’re-done-here” as he spoke. Jongdae opened his mouth to protest, but then Minseok fished out a couple of bills to settle their tab (despite it being Jongdae’s turn to pay) and got up, so he didn’t see it through, instead downing the last shot and wincing - this conversation being something best continued behind closed doors.
The cab ride back to the hotel that followed seemed to take a million years, and Jongdae had a million questions that seemed to multiply the more he left them unarticulated. “Later.” Minseok mouthed those words to him when their glances crossed in the back of the cab, and Jongdae allowed himself to heave a small sigh of relief at that simple promise.
Shanghai II
Later turned out to be in their shared room at the Shanghai Regal, on the 35th floor. It had been more economical to room together in a fancy hotel, and Minseok had already called dibs on the bed nearer the window.
Jongdae was the one who broke the silence.
“Do you still… feel that way? The way you said you felt earlier.”
It was hardly the most articulate question in the world, but Minseok fully understood what the younger boy was trying to get at. The silly drinking game the other boy had suggested had led to the unearthing of emotions that Minseok had long-since thought he had managed to put away, but Jongdae’s off-hand confession had threw things all off-kilter. It had happened a good two years ago now, but god, Minseok remembered it like it was yesterday. Now, he felt like he was 22 again, earnest and nothing short of hopeful that his well-hidden crush on the younger boy with the kittenish smile would come to fruition. The kiss in question had happened after a night out with friends - Minseok had walked Jongdae home in the cold at 4 in the morning, Jongdae’s lips were warm and soft, and he tasted like oranges and makgeolli and an overwhelming sense of hope. He had turned up on that same doorstep the following morning with a pounding heart and an invitation to a hangover breakfast, but ended up getting rebuffed by a seemingly aloof Jongdae who claimed not to remember a thing from the night before.
He nodded, before flopping back on the bed and turning to look at Jongdae. “Yeah.” It would be a lie to say no, and Minseok’s voice brimmed with emotion, his heart willing this to finally -finally - go somewhere. “I’ve felt that way for a long time,” Minseok could feel the heat starting to rise in his cheeks, and damn, he was probably doing a pretty good impression of a tomato by this point (how embarrassing). “I just thought that if we didn’t want the same things, then I’d be the best hyung to you that I possibly could.”
Minseok turned back to look up at the ceiling, though he could still see Jongdae looking at him from the corner of his eye. Pretending that it hadn’t happened was hard, but necessary, since Minseok wasn’t the confronting type, especially when it came to these things. Now, knowing that Jongdae felt the exact same way about him - still felt that way about him - made his heart want to swell with anticipation, but the more rational side of him thought better of it, since two years was a long time, and ill-thought out confessions were oftentimes just that - ill-thought out -that didn’t amount to anything.
He was jolted out of his thoughts when he felt his hotel bed dip with the weight of Jongdae moving to perch on its edge. “I hope you don’t mind,” More movement, as he shifted around a little more. His traveling companion dangled his legs over the edge of the bed and leaned back to prop himself up on one elbow, eventually scooting up so he could lean over Minseok - a move that made Minseok squint slightly as Jongdae’s all-too familiar countenance loomed into view.
“Hi.” The younger boy’s eyes curved into merry little crescents, which made it incredibly hard to remain morose. Minseok smiled back.
“Hi.”
Jongdae’s expression softened with a mixture of affection as an unspoken understanding passed between them. “I’m sorry for lying to you, hyung.” An apology that was two years too late, but Minseok didn’t mind one bit, only shaking his head to indicate that it didn’t matter (because it didn’t). “You’re really great at looking after me,” Jongdae’s gaze dipped coyly as a smile curved up his lips. “But I really would much prefer if we could look after each other from now on.”
Minseok felt his pulse start to race as Jongdae leaned in expectantly while waiting for an answer. He wasn’t one of those whose face turned red at the slightest touch of alcohol (his flatmate Yixing was exactly one of those people, and Minseok was incredibly keen on never letting him forget it), and neither was Jongdae, so he couldn’t quite tell if the other boy was sufficiently inebriated to be playing around with him. Nevertheless, his stomach was turning flip-flops at having Jongdae in such close proximity, and when the younger boy eventually bridged the gap between them to press his lips against his own, Minseok realized that two years was a long time to keep a secret, but the good thing about secrets was that it felt so much better once they were set free.
Guangzhou
Jongdae woke up beside Minseok in their shared hotel room in Guangzhou, following a particularly hearty dim sum buffet that had somehow managed to knock both of them out after consuming one too many xiaolongbao. Outside, the dusk had already set in, and Jongdae was filled with the sinking sensation that they had slept most of their short time in Guangzhou away.
“Hey, hyung, wake up - it’s already 7 in the evening,” Jongdae murmured, before getting out of bed and looking for a shirt and some decent pants he could pull on (for what reason, he wasn’t particularly sure). The rustling of sheets from the direction of the bed he had just left gave him a good enough indication that Minseok had heard him.
“We … slept?” Minseok half-sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes with the bases of his palms (and looking incredibly cute while doing so). “Oh, we slept.”
By now, Jongdae had gotten used to the way Minseok’s faculties didn’t fully take hold until at least twenty minutes after he woke, so he only smiled affectionately and gave up his search for clothes in favor of crawling back into bed with the other boy. “We slept the whole afternoon away, to be accurate - I can’t imagine what our tour guide must have thought - we were supposed to go sightseeing today.” Jongdae pouted slightly, before jabbing an index finger against Minseok’s chest. “I’m totally telling Yifan that this was your fault.”
Yifan was a friend of Luhan’s who was supposed to be their tour guide in Guangzhou, a tall, handsome individual whom Jongdae had cheekily declared as being rather dishy (a fact that made Minseok more than a little peeved) on their first night. Judging by the time displayed on the analog clock on the bedside table, the time for sightseeing was long past, and tomorrow, it would be time to say goodbye to Guangzhou, as they made their way back home to Seoul.
“Tell him then - I don’t care.” Minseok declared rather nonchalantly, before lying back against the incredibly fluffy hotel-issue pillows with a satisfied sigh. “These pillows are like huge marshmallows, they’re heaven on earth. I don’t regret missing sightseeing one bit.”
Jongdae only snorted in amusement at what Minseok said before following suit, because those pillows were really incredibly comfortable. “But we missed the boat ride in Hangzhou, and the… something in Xi’an.” He pouted and twiddled his thumbs as he looked rather dolefully at Minseok. “I think we kinda blew the last leg of our trip, hyung.” Jongdae then sat up belatedly and delivered a playful punch to Minseok’s chest. “I know you said you don’t care, but we should at least text Yifan to let him know - he might be having the jitters in the hotel lobby thinking we got axe murdered or something.”
Minseok remained rather cheery at the thought of being murdered with an axe, and reluctantly shifted to retrieve Yifan’s number. “Yes, dear, I got it…” The term of endearment only elicited another snort as Jongdae rolled over in bed to snuggle up to Minseok, right as the latter groaned quietly and murmured something about feeling the spring rolls from lunch still stewing in his stomach.
“Really attractive, hyung.” Jongdae deadpanned, before sitting up to leaf through the room service menu - it had been seven hours since lunch, and he was beginning to get hungry again. “What do you feel like having for your last meal in China?”
Minseok remained where he was with his head against the pillows as he ran his fingertips gently down Jongdae’s spine. “Can I have you?”
Jongdae chuckled lightheartedly and shook his head. “You won’t get much out of me, I’m a man, but I won’t feed you for long.” His response was a joke, but the contemplative silence that came after was an indication that the older boy’s question was anything but.
Oh.
“I mean, whether I could… we could let this continue even after we get back home.” There hadn’t been time to touch on the subject ever since that night in Shanghai, but judging from Minseok’s expression, Jongdae had a feeling that having this talk was only a matter of time.
It took him a moment to respond, but then Jongdae had had enough of running and hiding from his feelings - this was more than just a passing phase, and he desperately wanted to hold on to it, so he readied himself, and then answered.
“Yeah, yes.” And then once again, as if to reassure himself that he had correctly articulated what was on his mind, he repeated himself. “Yes, of course we can. I would really like us to.”
Jongdae smiled a smile that Minseok reciprocated in full, before reaching out to intertwine their fingers (this, he decided, gave life to the saying that the spaces between one’s fingers were made to fit perfectly with someone else’s) and shifting to lay beside the older boy once more.
That night, Jongdae’s Instagram was uploaded with a picture of the Guangzhou cityscape, the skyline illuminated with constellations of light that punctuated the darkness. The image bore the caption “Saying goodbye to a great trip in Guangzhou with @minseokkim - and hello to the start of something much more wonderful :3.”
//Prompt//: Xiumin and Chen go on a grand food tour of China.
//Rating//: PG
//Word Count//: 5,748
//Author’s Note//: This is the longest fic I’ve ever written, but I had fun with it because it gave me the chance to revisit a couple of places in China that I’ve been to. I really hope this fits the bill!
Originally posted HERE as part of the Xiuchen Fic Fest.
Seoul
Mornings were pretty dismal, Minseok decided, when you found yourself hauling ass (not just one’s own, mind you) across the departure hall of a busy airport. Incheon International Airport wasn’t a walk in the park on the best of days, and it wasn’t any better at 5.45 in the morning, when one had just 45 minutes to get to the boarding gate and catch a plane to China. Right now, all Minseok wanted was to not be surrounded by people who needed to go places and hand over his suitcase to the nice lady at the check-in desk so he could have both hands free for a hassle-free flight.
That, and get himself some breakfast, because his stomach was currently making some pretty ungodly sounds.
It didn’t help that Jongdae, his traveling companion for the impending trip, had fallen asleep on the cab ride to the airport and was trying to keep step with him as they approached the check-in desk, all sleepy eyes and tousled hair. “Do you need help with that?” Minseok didn’t wait for an answer from the other boy before reaching to heft Jongdae’s suitcase on to the conveyer belt.
“My hero,” Jongdae cooed, as his lips curved up into a kittenish smile and he batted his eyelashes at Minseok. Minseok only snorted and nudged Jongdae with his elbow as he tried to stifle an amused chuckle. Time to change the subject. “Jongdae-ah, where’s your passport? Hand it over.”
With boarding passes tucked into their respective pockets, they headed off in search for food. Breakfast came in the form of a rather soggy fast-food breakfast wrap that Jongdae wolfed down rather happily, while Minseok spent his time frowning at the rather lonely piece of limp lettuce peeking out of the top of his wrap.
Before long, they were on the aircraft and comfortably ensconced in their seats, Jongdae bagging the window seat and looking out on to the tarmac as they awaited take-off. Minseok, on the other hand, immersed himself in that morning’s publication of the Seoul Shinmun.
“Are you sure it was a good idea to fly to Beijing first? What if we max out our bellies and decide to bail on the whole trip?”
Minseok looked up at Jongdae in a rather surly fashion, eyebrows furrowed slightly as he peered at him over the top of the free airport newspaper. He held Jongdae’s puppy-like gaze for a couple of seconds before clearing his throat and turning his attention back to the morning’s headlines (Kim Jong-Un’s disappearance may be a trick), all while rustling his paper rather officiously. “Then it’d be your fault,” he said, as he kept his eyes on the lines of printed text in front of him. “Since you veto-ed my suggestion that we end the trip in Beijing, rather than start it.”
More rustling, and Minseok eventually looked up once again when Jongdae remained quiet. That was clearly a bad move, since the sight he was greeted with was Jongdae’s bright almond-shaped eyes peering at him from over the top of his paper, eyebrows slightly raised with just the smallest smidgen of reproach.
“You don’t mean that. Besides, isn’t your old uni friend only going to be in town for the next few day? We couldn’t have ended the trip in Beijing if you wanted to meet him.”
Minseok only harrumphed softly when he got called out thus unceremoniously, falling into rather sullen silence thereafter. It took the plane taxiing and beginning its ascent for him to put his newspaper away and throw an apologetic glance in Jongdae’s direction. “Sorry.” His eyebrows and the corners of his lips re-arranged themselves in a mildly sheepish expression as he spoke, while picking at an imaginary bit of fluff on Jongdae’s airline-issue blanket. “It’s been a rushed morning.”
Jongdae only smiled and reached over to pat Minseok’s forearm gently. “I would give you the cold shoulder, but we’re stuck with each other for the next couple of weeks, so I’m going to tell you it’s okay, and let’s get along.” He chuckled softly, before gently swatting Minseok’s hand away from his blanket. “But please stop picking at my blanket - I don’t want a hole in it before we’ve even fully left the ground.”
Beijing
Their passage into Beijing wasn’t too bad - Minseok’s friend from university, a boy called Luhan with eyelashes longer than a camel (most accurate description, in Jongdae’s own humble opinion), met them at the airport, hustling them both through the arrivals hall with surprising efficiency. Jongdae sat in the back of Luhan’s BMW coupe while Minseok rode shotgun with their host, both talking nineteen to the dozen. Jongdae idly scrolled through his social media feeds during the half hour long ride out from Beijing Capital International Airport to the city center, half-dozing as he occasionally glanced out the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of the city proper, instead of the decidedly gray expressway.
“You okay back there?”
Minseok’s voice brought Jongdae back from his almost-daydream (of Lee Minho’s character in The Heirs rescuing him rather gallantly from a near brush with a reckless bicycle - hey, a boy could hope) and back to the confines of Luhan’s car. “Um, yeah - of course,” he said, airily brushing the question off before motioning for Minseok to resume his catching up with Luhan the Camel-Lashed. Minseok had always been like that - that is, doting in a strange, detached kind of way. At least, that was how things seemed to Jongdae. The other boy was thoughtful to a fault, in his big brother way, and while Jongdae appreciated the concern sometimes, other times it just gnawed at his consciousness because god, Kim Jongdae was a grown man, and he didn’t need to be babysat.
Minseok smiled in response and reached back to pat Jongdae’s knee in a friendly fashion. “I just figured you were being really quiet. Luhan here speaks Korean too, you know, there won’t be a language barrier, or anything.” From the driver’s seat, Luhan snorted and spouted a rather impressive stream of near-fluent Korean - something to the effect that his Korean was rather rusty, and Minseok was the only person keeping him in practice (never mind that Jongdae understood 80% of whatever Luhan said in Chinese - night classes, for the win).
It might have been the leftover turbulence from the plane, but the blatant flirty undertones in Luhan’s voice made Jongdae want to gag.
Instant dislike (and infuriatingly long lashes) aside, Jongdae had to admit that Luhan was a pretty decent host. After dropping off their stuff at his studio apartment, he drove Minseok and Jongdae to the gates of the Forbidden City. “For photo ops,” Luhan said, as he nudged Minseok playfully in the ribs. Minseok only groaned and muttered something about how much he hated the way his cheeks looked in pictures before Jongdae sighed to himself and wandered off to take a picture of a rather interesting looking ceiling beam.
Minseok caught up with him as he made his way across Tiananmen Square (while the very patriotic Chinese national anthem blared through the venue’s PA system). “Hello, you dashed off like a shot - I was gonna get you to take a photo with me.” Jongdae barely turned around as he focused his camera lens on taking a panoramic view of the scenery (failing miserably, since his little point-and-shoot couldn’t really accommodate the breadth of the view before him), merely shrugging in acknowledgment of Minseok’s presence as he carefully sidestepped a military man and his blushing bride who were taking their wedding photos.
“Thought you were busy sightseeing with Luhan-ssi.”
The statement sounded unduly reproachful, and Jongdae lowered his camera to jut his lower lip out at Minseok, suddenly apologetic for his behavior. If Minseok noticed, however, he didn’t give any indication that he did, and linked his arm with Jongdae’s.
“After you’ve walked diagonally across the square, there isn’t that much to see - come on, let’s take that photo quickly. Luhan says he wants to bring us to this famous night market.” Minseok grinned as he walked Jongdae back to Luhan’s car. “Right on time, too. I could eat. I’m starved. Now smile and say ddeokbokki?” With that, Minseok clicked his phone on and put one arm around Jongdae’s shoulders, grinning broadly as he snapped the cheesiest selfie ever.
Wangfujing night market was rather more exciting than Jongdae had anticipated, thanks to the very colloquial sights and sounds of night-time Beijing, which made Jongdae feel like he had stepped into China’s answer to Seoul’s Dongdaemun - only with the addition of cooked caterpillars, scorpions and other creepy crawlies into the mix. Within five minutes of alighting, he was assailed with the oily scent of deep-fried starfish on a stick from a nearby stall. “Ew,” Minseok wrinkled his nose and averted his gaze, before tugging on Luhan’s sleeve, silently asking that they beat a hasty retreat (and possibly go in search of some candied haws).
Jongdae, however, was rather drawn to the idea of eating a starfish, and ended up buying one just for fun. He made an unwilling Minseok take the inaugural picture of him taking a sizeable bite out of said starfish before posting the image on Instagram with the caption:
“Tasty! Wandering the night market in Beijing with @minseokkim.”
(Minseok resisted all of Jongdae’s attempts at trying to get him to share his fried starfish with him though)
The night came to an end at a roadside hotpot stall with each of them dunking chunks of meat into a copper pot filled to the brim with steaming soup broth. Jongdae wanted to ask if they were going to go the tourist trap route and go for a round of Peking roast duck as well (he wasn’t at all averse to subjecting himself to being scalped for it either - to complete the tourist experience), but didn’t because eating steaming hotpot on a rather chilly evening was just the antidote he needed.
“Come, eat more while the fire’s hot.” Minseok’s voice invaded Jongdae’s happy, hazy thoughts as a choice piece of beef found its way atop his rice bowl. When Jongdae looked up, the first things he saw were Minseok’s eyebrows waggling at him as he motioned for him to eat up. “The shopkeeper just told Luhan that we only have 60 minutes to eat, and we’re already at 45 minutes but I haven’t even touched the seafood yet.” Minseok turned his attention back to his rice bowl, chopsticks held aloft as he decided what to eat next. “Besides, we’ve got a train to catch.”
Luhan dropped them off at the station with their bags, after unsuccessfully trying to convince Minseok that staying over at his apartment for the night and taking the first train out of Beijing would be less hectic. Jongdae waited until after they had boarded the late-night train to Qufu (hometown of Confucius! the brochures gaily declared) to ask about the sudden change of plan.
“How come you didn’t want to stay over at Luhan’s place for another night?” (Honorifics, be damned). “I thought we were intending to spend a bit more time in Beijing.”
Minseok only shook his head and shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.” It took another moment for him to look up at Jongdae and give him a half-smile as he hit the nail right on the head. “I got the feeling you didn’t really feel like it either.”
Jongdae only ducked his head sheepishly in acknowledgement of Minseok’s astuteness.
“Anyway,” Minseok checked his watch and pouted as he calculated the estimated time of their arrival in Qufu. “Better get some sleep, Jongdae, it’s a six-hour ride.”
Qufu
The train pulled in to Qufu station just as the sun was rising, and Jongdae nudged Minseok awake as the first of the morning sunbeams seeped in through the cabin. Minseok just rubbed his eyes and surreptitiously tried to wipe the trickle of drool that had somehow managed to find its way to the edge of his mouth during the night, furrowing his brows at his traveling companion in the hope that the other boy hadn’t noticed.
“What are you, did you even close your eyes?” he asked, as the younger boy just grinned his cat-like smile and shrugged his shoulders rather enigmatically. “Smile!” Next thing he knew, he heard the click as Jongdae snapped a picture with his phone that was undoubtedly going to find its way to social media once again (and it did, with the rather sprightly caption of “Good morning sunshine! @minseokkim” in stark contrast to Minseok’s decidedly non-sprightly countenance). Jongdae had been scrolling through his Instagram feed (or something) the night before when Minseok had decided to call it a night, and yet here he was, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like the morning person that he was. Admittedly, it was rather infectious, and by the time Jongdae offered him a cup of instant coffee, along with a couple of rectangular bags of sweetener (Minseok was on a reduced-sugar diet), Minseok was very much on board with Jongdae’s brand of sunniness.
“Says here we should definitely visit the Temple of Confucius, Confucius Mansion and Forest of Confucius.” Jongdae’s voice lilted in his refined tone as he read from the brochure they had somehow acquired upon boarding. By the time they disembarked at Qufu station, Jongdae had successfully managed to convince Minseok that a full-day tour of Confucian everything was exactly what they needed (though Minseok quickly recanted this thought, much to his dismay). They ended up trekking through halls and temples, houses and mansions, until Minseok thought his feet might go weak from all the walking. Jongdae insisted on stopping and studiously admiring every plaque, mural and artifact with quiet awe, and Minseok couldn’t even wander away without the other boy snaking his arm around his in a bid to keep him by his side. At the rate Jongdae was going, Minseok would be able to recite the Confucian Analects in his sleep, he was certain of it. But Minseok wasn’t a quitter, and he held on till the very last plaque had been admired and its contents duly digested, before enquiring rather innocuously about their dinner plans for the evening.
Jongdae put his digital camera away in its holster while humming in contemplation. “I vote that we eat something awesome tonight.” He said, with certainty in his voice, before crossing his arms across his chest in a way that suggested that he meant business. “Let’s go eat at the restaurant in the hotel - I saw the poster as we were walking out earlier.”
Trust Jongdae to think of everything, and although the notion of having to eat their way through a banquet sounded fairly intimidating, Minseok was more than happy to leave the sight-seeing behind in favor of some good dinner. “You’re the best,” he said rather cheerfully, his mood picking up significantly as he made a beeline for their hotel. Little did he know that he would be in a right dilemma not half an hour later when Jongdae sat them both down at the hotel restaurant for an eight-course banquet based wholly around, you guessed it, Confucian teachings.
“What’s this…?” He said rather weakly, holding up with his chopsticks a thin, stringy morsel of what could only be meat of some description. They had just been served a cold platter based on the “Six Arts” advocated by Confucius (Rites, Music, Archery, Chariot Racing, Calligraphy and Mathematics), and Jongdae was already getting stuck in while Minseok attempted to verify the origins of each food item. “Mm..” The younger boy squinted at the menu while taking a look at the specimen Minseok had enquired about. “Spiced duck tongue,” he replied eventually, before lumping some sea whelk jelly on to Minseok’s plate. “Eat up - all of this is really good, isn’t it?” Minseok felt his stomach do a turn as a result, but he ate anyway - partly because his stomach was growling, and partly because he didn’t want to do Jongdae a disservice by being a bad travel partner. When the bill came, Jongdae only grinned his kittenish grin and casually slid the bill across the table over to Minseok.
“Oldest pays right? Hyung.”
Perhaps Jongdae turning on the charm was his way of trying to seal the deal, but that little detail was forgotten when Minseok’s eyes found the (rather large) figure at the bottom of the receipt. Jongdae only reached over to pat his hand affectionately in a reassuring fashion as he chuckled.
“It’s okay, I’ll buy the next meal.”
Shanghai I
As it turned out, the next meal they had together wasn’t a meal at all. Instead, it involved nothing more than Long Island Iced Teas and a couple or so rounds of tequila. The commute from Qufu to Jinan and the connecting flight to Shanghai had been awful - claustrophobic and noisy - and Minseok’s declaration that he really needed a drink once they disembarked and cleared through customs sparked a little something in Jongdae’s mind. Grabbing the other boy’s hand, he walked them both in the direction of the nearest taxi rank.
“Let’s do something a little bit crazy.”
Before long, they had dropped their things off at the hotel, bypassed the famed Shanghai Bund and ended up in a faux-dive bar in Tianzifang at a round table shielded by a twee parasol, sipping Long Island Iced Teas so chock-full of alcohol they almost ran clear.
“I can taste um…. tequila, vodka, gin, rum… what else is there that I haven’t named?” Jongdae said, sucking thoughtfully on a straw as he spoke. Minseok only snorted at the other boy’s question to the world at large, while sipping his drink rather nonchalantly. “It’s Triple Sec, bitters, and coke - your guesses don’t count because you were peeking at the drinks menu just a second ago, I saw your wandering gaze!” Minseok chuckled and pointed his index finger at Jongdae rather accusingly, which he responded to by raising said drinks menu in an attempt to deflect the playful glare from Minseok’s almond-shaped eyes.
It probably was a little bit rash, to rush out to a bar this early in the day (Jongdae realized that they were probably high-risk targets for being mugged at the moment), but that aside, he reckoned they were both having a rollicking good time, thanks in part to their very enthusiastic bartender and his gift of alcohol. While Jongdae’s half of the table showed rather haphazard signs of his drinking endeavors, everything on Minseok’s side was immaculate - glasses stacked and arranged neatly, and peanut shells laid out on an unfolded napkin to aid removal (a picture of this dichotomy later found its way to Jongdae’s Instagram with the caption - “Obviously @minseokkim is the neat freak on this trip~”).
“Funny this, I never thought that I would be drinking my first ever Long Island Iced Tea, not in Long Island, but in Shanghai.” Minseok set down his now-empty glass with a satisfied air, before smiling broadly at Jongdae. The alcohol had helped him cast off the fatigue of their journey, and now Minseok’s smile was bright and joyful and really made Jongdae’s heart much lighter as well.
“I know, life is funny sometimes, isn’t it?” Jongdae raised his hand to get the attention of Tao, their aforementioned bartender, motioning for him to please bring them a round of tequila shots (a couple of summer jobs moonlighting in a local watering hole back home had taught him drinking lingo he found hard to forget). When the shots and lime wedges landed on their table, Jongdae met Minseok’s gaze and smiled. “You have to divulge a secret after each shot - something you’ve never told anyone in your life.” With that, he licked the back of his hand, sprinkled salt on the spot, licked it again and with an exhale, tossed a shot of tequila down the hatch, since what better time to start a drinking game than the present?
“My favorite color is red.” The sting of the tequila coursed down his throat, and Jongdae winced as he reached for a lime wedge to suck on. Minseok just laughed in response before placing another shot in front of Jongdae (Tao was more than willing to fan the flames of their drinking game and was keeping the shots coming). “You little liar, your favorite color is silver - and I know that for a fact, so take another one, and I’m not having a go till you do that.”
Damn, Minseok was still lucid (while Jongdae’s faculties were getting ever-so-slightly blurred around the edges), despite their liquid lunch. Nevertheless, Jongdae obliged, only frowning slightly this time when he felt his esophagus start to burn thanks to the bitter shot.
“I don’t think Luhan’s as good-looking as everyone thinks he is.” It was the first thing that came to his mind, and well, by his own rules he had asked for secret truths, so God help him, he was prepared to fall by his own sword.
Minseok nodded appraisingly as Jongdae sucked on his lime wedge, before taking his shot. “I agree.” The words were simple and easily strung together, Minseok setting down his empty shot glass before he sucked on his lime wedge.
“Really?” Jongdae’s voice held a twinge of incredulousness as he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I always thought you…” Liked him, had a thing for him, probably fucked him like everyone said you did - Jongdae didn’t get to finish his thought, because Minseok had already waved it away with a dismissive flutter of his fingertips.
“Nah.” As if to even the score, Minseok promptly took another shot, squeezing his eyes shut once the silver liquid had gone down. “He’s not my type.” Again, Minseok’s words were - like him - small and perfectly formed, and perhaps it was the alcohol’s doing, but Jongdae could feel his pulse drumming in his ears as he reached for his next (and second last) shot. His judgment was sufficiently swayed by this point for him to loosen that one particular secret he had been keeping close to his chest, and well, it was time to go large or go home.
“I’ve always liked you.” Perhaps the burning sensation that he felt in his chest was just tequila and not burning shame, since Jongdae actually felt a bit relieved to get that off his chest. He took a moment to lift the taste from his mouth with a wedge of lime before continuing his thought. “But especially since that time two years ago when we kissed and I said I couldn’t remember what happened the day after because I was too drunk. But I do remember, and don’t you dare say something lame like ‘I’ve always liked me too’ - I’ll slap you.” Jongdae’s words slipped past his lips fast and loose, squarely hitting home before his spent lime wedge could hit the plate. “You infuriate me sometimes with your hyung shit.”
Jongdae glanced up to meet Minseok’s gaze, and in that moment, despite all the haziness from before, it felt like he had never been more lucid in his life. Minseok’s eyes were bright - sparkling, almost - with a clarity that hadn’t been there before, and Jongdae’s gaze dipped to the older boy’s pouty lips - still slick with tequila - just as his companion raised a shot glass to his lips.
“I’ve always liked you too.” Jongdae could barely believe his ears when he heard those words fall from Minseok’s lips. Far from his fear of being patronized, Minseok sounded nothing short of genuine as he set the now-empty shot glass aside. “But I’d appreciate it next time if you told me about these things sooner, rather than later.” Minseok’s voice remained level, but bore a tinge of “we’re-done-here” as he spoke. Jongdae opened his mouth to protest, but then Minseok fished out a couple of bills to settle their tab (despite it being Jongdae’s turn to pay) and got up, so he didn’t see it through, instead downing the last shot and wincing - this conversation being something best continued behind closed doors.
The cab ride back to the hotel that followed seemed to take a million years, and Jongdae had a million questions that seemed to multiply the more he left them unarticulated. “Later.” Minseok mouthed those words to him when their glances crossed in the back of the cab, and Jongdae allowed himself to heave a small sigh of relief at that simple promise.
Shanghai II
Later turned out to be in their shared room at the Shanghai Regal, on the 35th floor. It had been more economical to room together in a fancy hotel, and Minseok had already called dibs on the bed nearer the window.
Jongdae was the one who broke the silence.
“Do you still… feel that way? The way you said you felt earlier.”
It was hardly the most articulate question in the world, but Minseok fully understood what the younger boy was trying to get at. The silly drinking game the other boy had suggested had led to the unearthing of emotions that Minseok had long-since thought he had managed to put away, but Jongdae’s off-hand confession had threw things all off-kilter. It had happened a good two years ago now, but god, Minseok remembered it like it was yesterday. Now, he felt like he was 22 again, earnest and nothing short of hopeful that his well-hidden crush on the younger boy with the kittenish smile would come to fruition. The kiss in question had happened after a night out with friends - Minseok had walked Jongdae home in the cold at 4 in the morning, Jongdae’s lips were warm and soft, and he tasted like oranges and makgeolli and an overwhelming sense of hope. He had turned up on that same doorstep the following morning with a pounding heart and an invitation to a hangover breakfast, but ended up getting rebuffed by a seemingly aloof Jongdae who claimed not to remember a thing from the night before.
He nodded, before flopping back on the bed and turning to look at Jongdae. “Yeah.” It would be a lie to say no, and Minseok’s voice brimmed with emotion, his heart willing this to finally -finally - go somewhere. “I’ve felt that way for a long time,” Minseok could feel the heat starting to rise in his cheeks, and damn, he was probably doing a pretty good impression of a tomato by this point (how embarrassing). “I just thought that if we didn’t want the same things, then I’d be the best hyung to you that I possibly could.”
Minseok turned back to look up at the ceiling, though he could still see Jongdae looking at him from the corner of his eye. Pretending that it hadn’t happened was hard, but necessary, since Minseok wasn’t the confronting type, especially when it came to these things. Now, knowing that Jongdae felt the exact same way about him - still felt that way about him - made his heart want to swell with anticipation, but the more rational side of him thought better of it, since two years was a long time, and ill-thought out confessions were oftentimes just that - ill-thought out -that didn’t amount to anything.
He was jolted out of his thoughts when he felt his hotel bed dip with the weight of Jongdae moving to perch on its edge. “I hope you don’t mind,” More movement, as he shifted around a little more. His traveling companion dangled his legs over the edge of the bed and leaned back to prop himself up on one elbow, eventually scooting up so he could lean over Minseok - a move that made Minseok squint slightly as Jongdae’s all-too familiar countenance loomed into view.
“Hi.” The younger boy’s eyes curved into merry little crescents, which made it incredibly hard to remain morose. Minseok smiled back.
“Hi.”
Jongdae’s expression softened with a mixture of affection as an unspoken understanding passed between them. “I’m sorry for lying to you, hyung.” An apology that was two years too late, but Minseok didn’t mind one bit, only shaking his head to indicate that it didn’t matter (because it didn’t). “You’re really great at looking after me,” Jongdae’s gaze dipped coyly as a smile curved up his lips. “But I really would much prefer if we could look after each other from now on.”
Minseok felt his pulse start to race as Jongdae leaned in expectantly while waiting for an answer. He wasn’t one of those whose face turned red at the slightest touch of alcohol (his flatmate Yixing was exactly one of those people, and Minseok was incredibly keen on never letting him forget it), and neither was Jongdae, so he couldn’t quite tell if the other boy was sufficiently inebriated to be playing around with him. Nevertheless, his stomach was turning flip-flops at having Jongdae in such close proximity, and when the younger boy eventually bridged the gap between them to press his lips against his own, Minseok realized that two years was a long time to keep a secret, but the good thing about secrets was that it felt so much better once they were set free.
Guangzhou
Jongdae woke up beside Minseok in their shared hotel room in Guangzhou, following a particularly hearty dim sum buffet that had somehow managed to knock both of them out after consuming one too many xiaolongbao. Outside, the dusk had already set in, and Jongdae was filled with the sinking sensation that they had slept most of their short time in Guangzhou away.
“Hey, hyung, wake up - it’s already 7 in the evening,” Jongdae murmured, before getting out of bed and looking for a shirt and some decent pants he could pull on (for what reason, he wasn’t particularly sure). The rustling of sheets from the direction of the bed he had just left gave him a good enough indication that Minseok had heard him.
“We … slept?” Minseok half-sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes with the bases of his palms (and looking incredibly cute while doing so). “Oh, we slept.”
By now, Jongdae had gotten used to the way Minseok’s faculties didn’t fully take hold until at least twenty minutes after he woke, so he only smiled affectionately and gave up his search for clothes in favor of crawling back into bed with the other boy. “We slept the whole afternoon away, to be accurate - I can’t imagine what our tour guide must have thought - we were supposed to go sightseeing today.” Jongdae pouted slightly, before jabbing an index finger against Minseok’s chest. “I’m totally telling Yifan that this was your fault.”
Yifan was a friend of Luhan’s who was supposed to be their tour guide in Guangzhou, a tall, handsome individual whom Jongdae had cheekily declared as being rather dishy (a fact that made Minseok more than a little peeved) on their first night. Judging by the time displayed on the analog clock on the bedside table, the time for sightseeing was long past, and tomorrow, it would be time to say goodbye to Guangzhou, as they made their way back home to Seoul.
“Tell him then - I don’t care.” Minseok declared rather nonchalantly, before lying back against the incredibly fluffy hotel-issue pillows with a satisfied sigh. “These pillows are like huge marshmallows, they’re heaven on earth. I don’t regret missing sightseeing one bit.”
Jongdae only snorted in amusement at what Minseok said before following suit, because those pillows were really incredibly comfortable. “But we missed the boat ride in Hangzhou, and the… something in Xi’an.” He pouted and twiddled his thumbs as he looked rather dolefully at Minseok. “I think we kinda blew the last leg of our trip, hyung.” Jongdae then sat up belatedly and delivered a playful punch to Minseok’s chest. “I know you said you don’t care, but we should at least text Yifan to let him know - he might be having the jitters in the hotel lobby thinking we got axe murdered or something.”
Minseok remained rather cheery at the thought of being murdered with an axe, and reluctantly shifted to retrieve Yifan’s number. “Yes, dear, I got it…” The term of endearment only elicited another snort as Jongdae rolled over in bed to snuggle up to Minseok, right as the latter groaned quietly and murmured something about feeling the spring rolls from lunch still stewing in his stomach.
“Really attractive, hyung.” Jongdae deadpanned, before sitting up to leaf through the room service menu - it had been seven hours since lunch, and he was beginning to get hungry again. “What do you feel like having for your last meal in China?”
Minseok remained where he was with his head against the pillows as he ran his fingertips gently down Jongdae’s spine. “Can I have you?”
Jongdae chuckled lightheartedly and shook his head. “You won’t get much out of me, I’m a man, but I won’t feed you for long.” His response was a joke, but the contemplative silence that came after was an indication that the older boy’s question was anything but.
Oh.
“I mean, whether I could… we could let this continue even after we get back home.” There hadn’t been time to touch on the subject ever since that night in Shanghai, but judging from Minseok’s expression, Jongdae had a feeling that having this talk was only a matter of time.
It took him a moment to respond, but then Jongdae had had enough of running and hiding from his feelings - this was more than just a passing phase, and he desperately wanted to hold on to it, so he readied himself, and then answered.
“Yeah, yes.” And then once again, as if to reassure himself that he had correctly articulated what was on his mind, he repeated himself. “Yes, of course we can. I would really like us to.”
Jongdae smiled a smile that Minseok reciprocated in full, before reaching out to intertwine their fingers (this, he decided, gave life to the saying that the spaces between one’s fingers were made to fit perfectly with someone else’s) and shifting to lay beside the older boy once more.
That night, Jongdae’s Instagram was uploaded with a picture of the Guangzhou cityscape, the skyline illuminated with constellations of light that punctuated the darkness. The image bore the caption “Saying goodbye to a great trip in Guangzhou with @minseokkim - and hello to the start of something much more wonderful :3.”