[PROMPT #35] Sacred Skinship
Title: Sacred Skinship
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: Mild language
Summary: When fashion model Jackson becomes neighbors with the most beautiful man he’s ever met, he sets out to overcome Jinyoung’s phobia of germs.
Notes: This was so cliché, I’m crying and I’m so sorry. I based it off of the webtoon, Untouchable
Jackson held up the card on his hand with the address of his new apartment etched on one side. He groaned. This was the third time he had to move. The first time it was because of a “promotion” and the second was from “security issues.” Jackson didn’t find any problems with his previous apartment and presumed that this time the manager was simply giving him trouble for showing up late in the last few photoshoots. He didn’t meet a single manager for a fashion model so uptight and obnoxious before Manager Park, but Jackson figured some people just show their love in different ways.
Mind focused on a single goal, Jackson Wang lost track of his physical being and collided with a taller man knocking down his books to the street pavement.
“Hey!” the man shouted.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jackson squatted down instinctively to pick up the books.
“Please watch where you’re going,” the man seemed to speak through gritted teeth as he hurriedly picked up the books as if they were about to burn on the ground.
Jackson eyed him for a moment but apologized again and reached over quickly to grab at least one book before the other man could. Their fingers only lightly grazed one another as the man had grabbed the book at the same time, but Jackson felt the man stiffen, brows furrowed at Jackson.
“You!”
“Me?”
“You’re that stalker who keeps intentionally bumping into me.”
“What?!”
“I thought I told you to stop following me,” the man snatched his book away. “Is stalking me some kind of hobby of yours?”
“Huh? I’m not-”
“Please mind your own business and learn to leave people alone.”
“Wait you’ve got the wrong-”
The man had already sped off before Jackson could defend himself. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared into the bustling crowd in front of him, downright confused. Did he resemble someone else in the city?
Jackson turned around partway before his eye caught a flicker of white on the ground. He knelt down and picked up a small book. On the cover read: La Fille De Papier. Jackson raised an eyebrow. This may have been the angry man’s book but he had already long disappeared and the book carried no label of any library. Jackson had no interest in reading and proceeded to dump it into the nearest trashcan, but froze just as he was about to let the book go.
Maybe he should wait until he found a recycling bin.
He stared at it for a second, sighed and tucked it away into his duffel bag.
---
His apartment was on the fifth floor. No elevator. (But no biggie. He subconsciously flexed his biceps. He still got it in himself.) But stairs were no match for ex-pro-basketball player number 28. Upon reaching his floor, he turned the corner and immediately froze, almost slipping on the marble tiles. In front of a door down the hallway was the man he had knocked into earlier. Steeling himself, Jackson hesitantly approached him, reaching into his bag for the dropped book.
The man looked over and his eyes widened as they tracked down to Jackson’s hand still fishing for what could only be a dangerous weapon.
“I thought I told you to leave,” the man’s voice was stern and demanding, and although it wasn’t loud, bounced off the bare hallway walls like in an auditorium. However, it all felt muffled as Jackson was thoroughly distracted by the man’s face in front of him. It reminded Jackson of a movie star, with sharp features and cloaked in spotless skin. Dark hair partly veiled his eyes carrying an expression that increased with annoyance.
“Hello? Are you listening to me?”
“Oh! Yeah-No wait, I have your-”
“Never show me your face again or I’ll call the police. This is my final warning,” he disappeared behind a slammed door before Jackson could open his mouth.
Damn... Jackson sighed exasperatedly and noted the number on his door, 504. He glanced back down at the address on his card and groaned inwardly for the thirtieth time that day.
Apt #505
---
Jackson couldn’t remember his life before he met Jaebum. The two always played basketball in the same old court behind their neighborhood’s swampy never-used pool. After a dozen or so games they would religiously visit the local diner that Jaebum’s uncle owned to get half-priced meat and beer, even though they were under-aged back then. Jackson considered Jaebum as an older brother he never had.
“A stalker?” Jaebum threw his head back laughing, and promptly started choking on a piece of chicken.
“I’m glad this amuses you,” Jackson angrily gulped down his beer. “I don’t understand what his problem was. I'm not a stalker, I'm the opposite of a stalker. Do I look like a stalker to you?”
Jaebum thumped his chest a few times, still coughing but forced out in a tight voice, “You look like an alien.”
“But not a stalker,” Jackson pointed at Jaebum with a chicken leg. “I’ve got class.”
Jaebum shrugged and dipped his chicken in spicy sauce, “Maybe he’s an actor or something. Someone with a lot of fans.”
“You know he wasn’t bad looking…”
“There ya go.”
Whatever he was, he did not have to treat Jackson so unfairly. He watched Jaebum tear off another piece of chicken to heartily chew on and offer him the usual half-hearted attempts at consolations, “It’s probably nothing” and “He’ll forget about it” between munches. Fortunately, it was enough to temporarily satisfy Jackson as he nodded in return and poured himself another beer. He’ll forget.
---
That night, Park Jinyoung clacked away on his keyboard as he finished up the last sentence of his chapter. His eyes scanned the few paragraphs he had just wrote a dozen more times before picking out one of the five sticky notes he had pinned on the wall above. This one read: Review La Fille De Papier for Chapter 3.
He sifted through his books that were laid on a neat stacked pile on his desk but his desired book was nowhere to be found. He checked again and shook his head in disbelief. He had sworn he had it in his hand walking out of the bookstore. Where else could it have gone?
It was then that the memory of the short foreign looking man he bumped into flashed in his head.
The stalker?
He had remembered him trying to take something out that Jinyoung thought was a book to get his autograph. Could it be…? Jinyoung shook his head again. To ask for the book when the man-a stalker or not-already tried to give it to him would be to kill what’s left of his pride.
In the next few minutes, Jinyoung’s determination was washed with dismay as he discovered that the book was sold out on every online website. He picked up his phone and punched in the number for the books’ publishing agency to see if he can order a fresh copy.
“Four months?!” Jinyoung shut his eyes tightly. He was on a tight deadline and he needed the book as soon as possible. Immediately after he hung up with the publisher, he heard dull knocks on the door along with muffled yelling.
“Excuse me!” More knocks. “Excuse me, I have something that belongs to you.”
Jinyoung walked over to the door and the familiar face appeared on the peephole camera monitor. He hesitantly opened the door just wide enough to stick his arm out. “I’ll take it.”
“I never said I’ll give it to you.”
“What?” Jinyoung opened the door wider to reveal a slightly tipsy Jackson with half-lit eyes.
“I’ll give it to you when you acknowledge that I’m not a stalker.”
“What?” Jinyoung repeated in disbelief.
“I’m not a stalker. You keep saying I am, but I’m not.”
Jinyoung tried his best to ignore the smell of alcohol that reeked from Jackson, before he noticed his book that was tightly clutched in Jackson’s hand.
“Alright, so you’re not a stalker. Then why do you keep following me?” He carefully reached over to grab the book, but Jackson pulled his hand away and propped his other on the door frame, learning too close to Jinyoung’s face for his comfort.
“I’m not following you,” Jackson drawled. “I moved here because I was sent by my company. I’m a successful model, and a darn good one. I’m also your neighbor. I live…” he trailed off before falling limply onto Jinyoung’s shoulder.
Jinyoung held in his screams as he quickly pulled him into the apartment and closed the door shut.
---
The next morning Jackson found himself lying on a pile of newspapers.
He pushed away the make-shift newspaper blanket as he sat up. Where was this?
“Good morning,” a voice spoke from above.
Jackson’s eyes travelled from toe to head of the man in front of him dressed in long white sleeved shirt and slacks. If this guy wasn’t already attractive, he was ten times more so at this moment. As a widely connected celebrity, Jackson was surprised he had never even heard of this person before.
Jinyoung held up his hand misunderstanding Jackson’s mouth, hanging agape, for him wanting to speak.
“No need to thank me for letting you in. I wanted to call the police but that would mean they would need to investigate and all these people would be coming in my house and the amount of germs they’d bring in…” Jinyoung pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated just by the thought of it all.
Jackson let his mouth shut, and stared blankly at the ranting man before him. He suddenly stood as he came to an illogical conclusion, “Are you a fashion model too?”
“I write,” Jinyoung huffed, offended.
“Oh,” Jackson’s eyes widened. “That’s why you wanted the book so badly!” he remarked.
“Yes. Thank you for returning it, but please don’t put your bare feet on my floor. Let me get you a pair of slippers.”
Jackson looked down at his feet of which the only part was touching the floor was a fraction of his biggest toe. He watched Jinyoung curiously. “What kind of books do you write?”
“I don’t really have a single genre I stick to,” Jinyoung set a pair of disposable slippers by Jackson’s feet.
Jackson spent the next thirty minutes tossing Jinyoung questions which Jinyoung responded to despite himself. This man asked a lot of questions, each not interrogatively but with genuine interest. If he wasn’t asking questions he would talk about his own accomplishments. He even made requests on whether Jinyoung could write a book about him, all which Jinyoung rejected. Even so, there was something intriguing about how fascinated Jackson was about Jinyoung as if he’s never met another human being in his life.
“I’m Jackson by the way!”
“Jinyoung.”
“Nice to meet you, Jinyoung. To tell you the truth, I don’t know this part of town very well. Maybe you can show me around?”
“No.”
“Tomorrow? Let’s do tomorrow,” Jackson reached over to put his arm around Jinyoung’s shoulder which Jinyoung swerved to avoid to open the front door.
“Okay leave now, please.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jinyoungie!” Jackson sang out as he walked out the door.
“Jackson!” Jaebum who was standing by Jackson’s front door re-checked the door number then did the same for Jinyoung’s door. “Did you move again already?”
“No, I was just meeting my new friend, Jinyoung-”
The door shut behind him before Jackson could introduce the two.
“Who’s Jinyoung?”
“My neighbor. Turns out he-Wait, what time is it?”
“Past noon. I was going to take you out to lunch.”
“Shit-my photoshoot!”
Jaebum chuckled. “Not the first time you’re late anyway. I’ll drive you.”
---
Despite the strong winds and the chatter of the crowd on the streets below, today was a quiet day. But peace was meant to be broken by Jackson Wang.
“Jin~young~” a sing-song voice called out after the buzz of the doorbell.
Every possible ridiculous excuse ran through Jinyoung’s head but as soon as he opened the door and saw Jackson’s bright smile, all defenses fell. As Jackson took him down and through the streets of Seoul, Jinyoung couldn’t help but stare in awe as Jackson pointed out the different shops and which clothing brands he’s modeled in before with a strange and particular focus in underwear. He watched bemused at a distance from the rice cake stall while Jackson tried the spicy street food in spite of knowing how much he'll sweat and pant for water. Due to hygienic reasons Jinyoung passed on the ddeok.
The day had wound down into evening sooner than Jinyoung expected. A weekday evening meant everyone would be returning home from work. A lot of people on the street meant a lot of pushing and bumping into each other and spreading countless bacteria and-- "Jackson, let's go home. I'm getting tired."
"You sure you don't want to get dinner?"
"Yes I am sure."
"Alright, let's go," Jackson took Jinyoung's hand but before he could get a proper hold of it, Jinyoung cringed and pulled his hand back.
"Please don't... touch me."
Jinyoung caught the briefly dejected look on Jackson's face which was immediately replaced with a pressed smile. "Please forgive me Wangja-nim for I was reckless and rash. Shall we proceed to our quarters?"
Jinyoung held back his laughter but a smile creeped out which was enough to send Jackson bouncing off again.
Let's go out more often, Jinyoung, Jackson had said before sending Jinyoung off. While that day seemed to be less tiresome than it would have been normally, Jinyoung wasn't so sure how many more days of “going out” he'll be able to take. But Jackson seemed to the type that doesn’t know when to give up, and he was not going to let Jinyoung go very easily.
---
"How much longer do you think it’ll take?"
"Be patient."
Jackson ran a hand through his hair and collapsed on the couch in Mark's office. “It’s been three weeks since I met him and he’s only let me hold the glove on his hand.”
“That’s still progress.”
“Mark, you might not see this through the red curtain on your head, but I’m still freaking out whenever I try to start something new. How can I tell that I’m not moving too fast?”
“Jackson, I know you, okay?” Mark pushed up his glasses and glanced over at Jackson. “You might be a bit dense but you’re also good at reading people when you want to. Just don’t overstep his boundaries without consent."
“Excuse you, me? Dense?” Jackson jumped to his feet. “By the way, what kind of therapist rolls their eyes at their client?”
“You didn’t fill out the forms to be my official client.”
“Official,” Jackson repeated. His phone buzzed. “No free pass for best friends?”
Jaebum
it’s been a while. wanna grab dinner? usual place?
“No. And besides, you’re overreacting.”
“I’m not, you’re the one underreacting. Mark.,” he said with a mocking emphasis on the name.
“People with mysophobia can’t be treated instantly. It’s a very gradual process that takes care and effort…”
Jackson
i'm taking jinyoung out today
how about tomorrow?
“Yeah, I know,” Jackson flopped back down on the couch and closed his eyes. It took effort to reach the holding-hands-with-gloves stage, and he wished the process would at least speed up after he cracked through one layer no matter how paper thin it was. Patience and Jackson didn’t mesh well but Jinyoung was an exception. Despite his aloof, overly-methodical behavior, Jinyoung had an eloquent way with words and carried himself with grace. No matter how much Jackson would pester him-particularly complain about his manager’s new restrictions about his frequent public appearances-Jinyoung would patiently listen and offer him advice on concealing himself better.
Jinyoung, someone unable to get closer than a foot to another human being, had stepped out of his comfort zone to hold Jackson’s hand; he was very clearly trying hard and Jackson needed to return the favor in the best way he could manage. “Alright. I can wait.”
“Could you please leave if you’re done venting, my client is here.”
Jackson did a partial back-flip off the couch and left the room with a wave, calling back, “I’ll keep you posted!”
Jaebum
sounds good
---
Jinyoung couldn’t focus.
His fingers rested on the keyboard at their posts, unseeing eyes staring at the computer screen in front of him but his mind preferred to fixate itself on one thing-rather, one person.
As soon as they began dating-or when Jackson boldly announced that they were-Jinyoung never spent a day without having met Jackson at least once. The fashion model has taken up so much of this time, Jinyoung had hardly gotten any progress on his book, but he would be lying to himself if he said that he disliked spending time with Jackson.
His finger idly traced the binding of a book on his table. It was one that Jackson had bought for him after Jinyoung had just casually pointed it out in passing of a bookstore.
A week earlier when Jinyoung had been anxiously searching for his pack of hand wipes that he used to consistently restock his coat pocket with, Jackson pulled out a fresh pack of his own to lend him.
It was only a day after that the couple had visited a set of palaces that was usually completely void of people (the location was Jinyoung’s choice) but discovering that a surprise winter festival was scheduled for that day bringing large crowds of people, Jackson gently offered that they go somewhere else.
Jackson hadn’t ever knowingly forced anything on him that would make Jinyoung uncomfortable. He had let Jinyoung be the one to decide the speed of the relationship based on Jinyoung’s own preferences.
Jackson cared about him.
Jinyoung knew he was not doing justice to the amount of effort that Jackson was putting forth. And it was time for that to change.
---
Jackson wasn’t the type to plan ahead.
Every event, interview, and date he has been on was improvised and his impatience would cut short any attempted preparation.
But this time was different. This time Jackson restrained himself for an entirety of fifteen minutes to plan, rehearse, and schedule his every action to make sure this date would go in accordance with his expectations. From the location to the cuisine to how Jackson would be handling himself throughout the date, everything was set up exactly the way he wanted.
All this planning unfortunately resulted in a painfully stressed out Jackson pacing back and forth in front of Jinyoung’s door. To be completely honest with himself, Jackson felt that this date might be a hit or miss. What if he hates everything? Jinyoung was already hesitant enough to step outside of the confines of his own private hospital that he calls his apartment and he’s only seen little improvement in the past few weeks. Jackson wondered if he should even bother knocking the door. But what if Jinyoung had already seen him and then later demanded an explanation on why he was loitering by his doorstep?
As the battle raged on internally, Jackson heard a jingle of keys before the door clicked open.
“Oh Jackson, I was just about to… What are you doing?”
Jackson’s back was glued against the wall by the door, motionless in an attempt at camouflage. After seeing Jinyoung’s eyes crinkle in laughter, Jackson proudly pulled himself away with a grin, “I wanted to surprise you.” He hoped Jinyoung would believe that since, truthfully, Jackson was trying to hide in fear and panic.
And Jinyoung did believe it, as he leaned forward with a smile on his face that may or may not have been carried over from laughing, and spoke gently, “Let’s go.”
At that point, a few things threw Jackson off. It was the first time Jinyoung hadn’t thrown an excuse to stay indoors, but instead took the initiative to proceed with the date. While he observably kept some distance, the way he leant in was less deliberate than his usual forced movements. And to add, Jackson felt something. There was a strange mix of chill and warmth that he felt hanging on to him and the tips of his fingers were dancing in delight.
And there it was. Jinyoung’s fingers-bare, exposed, and confidently interlocked with his own.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: Mild language
Summary: When fashion model Jackson becomes neighbors with the most beautiful man he’s ever met, he sets out to overcome Jinyoung’s phobia of germs.
Notes: This was so cliché, I’m crying and I’m so sorry. I based it off of the webtoon, Untouchable
Jackson held up the card on his hand with the address of his new apartment etched on one side. He groaned. This was the third time he had to move. The first time it was because of a “promotion” and the second was from “security issues.” Jackson didn’t find any problems with his previous apartment and presumed that this time the manager was simply giving him trouble for showing up late in the last few photoshoots. He didn’t meet a single manager for a fashion model so uptight and obnoxious before Manager Park, but Jackson figured some people just show their love in different ways.
Mind focused on a single goal, Jackson Wang lost track of his physical being and collided with a taller man knocking down his books to the street pavement.
“Hey!” the man shouted.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jackson squatted down instinctively to pick up the books.
“Please watch where you’re going,” the man seemed to speak through gritted teeth as he hurriedly picked up the books as if they were about to burn on the ground.
Jackson eyed him for a moment but apologized again and reached over quickly to grab at least one book before the other man could. Their fingers only lightly grazed one another as the man had grabbed the book at the same time, but Jackson felt the man stiffen, brows furrowed at Jackson.
“You!”
“Me?”
“You’re that stalker who keeps intentionally bumping into me.”
“What?!”
“I thought I told you to stop following me,” the man snatched his book away. “Is stalking me some kind of hobby of yours?”
“Huh? I’m not-”
“Please mind your own business and learn to leave people alone.”
“Wait you’ve got the wrong-”
The man had already sped off before Jackson could defend himself. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared into the bustling crowd in front of him, downright confused. Did he resemble someone else in the city?
Jackson turned around partway before his eye caught a flicker of white on the ground. He knelt down and picked up a small book. On the cover read: La Fille De Papier. Jackson raised an eyebrow. This may have been the angry man’s book but he had already long disappeared and the book carried no label of any library. Jackson had no interest in reading and proceeded to dump it into the nearest trashcan, but froze just as he was about to let the book go.
Maybe he should wait until he found a recycling bin.
He stared at it for a second, sighed and tucked it away into his duffel bag.
---
His apartment was on the fifth floor. No elevator. (But no biggie. He subconsciously flexed his biceps. He still got it in himself.) But stairs were no match for ex-pro-basketball player number 28. Upon reaching his floor, he turned the corner and immediately froze, almost slipping on the marble tiles. In front of a door down the hallway was the man he had knocked into earlier. Steeling himself, Jackson hesitantly approached him, reaching into his bag for the dropped book.
The man looked over and his eyes widened as they tracked down to Jackson’s hand still fishing for what could only be a dangerous weapon.
“I thought I told you to leave,” the man’s voice was stern and demanding, and although it wasn’t loud, bounced off the bare hallway walls like in an auditorium. However, it all felt muffled as Jackson was thoroughly distracted by the man’s face in front of him. It reminded Jackson of a movie star, with sharp features and cloaked in spotless skin. Dark hair partly veiled his eyes carrying an expression that increased with annoyance.
“Hello? Are you listening to me?”
“Oh! Yeah-No wait, I have your-”
“Never show me your face again or I’ll call the police. This is my final warning,” he disappeared behind a slammed door before Jackson could open his mouth.
Damn... Jackson sighed exasperatedly and noted the number on his door, 504. He glanced back down at the address on his card and groaned inwardly for the thirtieth time that day.
Apt #505
---
Jackson couldn’t remember his life before he met Jaebum. The two always played basketball in the same old court behind their neighborhood’s swampy never-used pool. After a dozen or so games they would religiously visit the local diner that Jaebum’s uncle owned to get half-priced meat and beer, even though they were under-aged back then. Jackson considered Jaebum as an older brother he never had.
“A stalker?” Jaebum threw his head back laughing, and promptly started choking on a piece of chicken.
“I’m glad this amuses you,” Jackson angrily gulped down his beer. “I don’t understand what his problem was. I'm not a stalker, I'm the opposite of a stalker. Do I look like a stalker to you?”
Jaebum thumped his chest a few times, still coughing but forced out in a tight voice, “You look like an alien.”
“But not a stalker,” Jackson pointed at Jaebum with a chicken leg. “I’ve got class.”
Jaebum shrugged and dipped his chicken in spicy sauce, “Maybe he’s an actor or something. Someone with a lot of fans.”
“You know he wasn’t bad looking…”
“There ya go.”
Whatever he was, he did not have to treat Jackson so unfairly. He watched Jaebum tear off another piece of chicken to heartily chew on and offer him the usual half-hearted attempts at consolations, “It’s probably nothing” and “He’ll forget about it” between munches. Fortunately, it was enough to temporarily satisfy Jackson as he nodded in return and poured himself another beer. He’ll forget.
---
That night, Park Jinyoung clacked away on his keyboard as he finished up the last sentence of his chapter. His eyes scanned the few paragraphs he had just wrote a dozen more times before picking out one of the five sticky notes he had pinned on the wall above. This one read: Review La Fille De Papier for Chapter 3.
He sifted through his books that were laid on a neat stacked pile on his desk but his desired book was nowhere to be found. He checked again and shook his head in disbelief. He had sworn he had it in his hand walking out of the bookstore. Where else could it have gone?
It was then that the memory of the short foreign looking man he bumped into flashed in his head.
The stalker?
He had remembered him trying to take something out that Jinyoung thought was a book to get his autograph. Could it be…? Jinyoung shook his head again. To ask for the book when the man-a stalker or not-already tried to give it to him would be to kill what’s left of his pride.
In the next few minutes, Jinyoung’s determination was washed with dismay as he discovered that the book was sold out on every online website. He picked up his phone and punched in the number for the books’ publishing agency to see if he can order a fresh copy.
“Four months?!” Jinyoung shut his eyes tightly. He was on a tight deadline and he needed the book as soon as possible. Immediately after he hung up with the publisher, he heard dull knocks on the door along with muffled yelling.
“Excuse me!” More knocks. “Excuse me, I have something that belongs to you.”
Jinyoung walked over to the door and the familiar face appeared on the peephole camera monitor. He hesitantly opened the door just wide enough to stick his arm out. “I’ll take it.”
“I never said I’ll give it to you.”
“What?” Jinyoung opened the door wider to reveal a slightly tipsy Jackson with half-lit eyes.
“I’ll give it to you when you acknowledge that I’m not a stalker.”
“What?” Jinyoung repeated in disbelief.
“I’m not a stalker. You keep saying I am, but I’m not.”
Jinyoung tried his best to ignore the smell of alcohol that reeked from Jackson, before he noticed his book that was tightly clutched in Jackson’s hand.
“Alright, so you’re not a stalker. Then why do you keep following me?” He carefully reached over to grab the book, but Jackson pulled his hand away and propped his other on the door frame, learning too close to Jinyoung’s face for his comfort.
“I’m not following you,” Jackson drawled. “I moved here because I was sent by my company. I’m a successful model, and a darn good one. I’m also your neighbor. I live…” he trailed off before falling limply onto Jinyoung’s shoulder.
Jinyoung held in his screams as he quickly pulled him into the apartment and closed the door shut.
---
The next morning Jackson found himself lying on a pile of newspapers.
He pushed away the make-shift newspaper blanket as he sat up. Where was this?
“Good morning,” a voice spoke from above.
Jackson’s eyes travelled from toe to head of the man in front of him dressed in long white sleeved shirt and slacks. If this guy wasn’t already attractive, he was ten times more so at this moment. As a widely connected celebrity, Jackson was surprised he had never even heard of this person before.
Jinyoung held up his hand misunderstanding Jackson’s mouth, hanging agape, for him wanting to speak.
“No need to thank me for letting you in. I wanted to call the police but that would mean they would need to investigate and all these people would be coming in my house and the amount of germs they’d bring in…” Jinyoung pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated just by the thought of it all.
Jackson let his mouth shut, and stared blankly at the ranting man before him. He suddenly stood as he came to an illogical conclusion, “Are you a fashion model too?”
“I write,” Jinyoung huffed, offended.
“Oh,” Jackson’s eyes widened. “That’s why you wanted the book so badly!” he remarked.
“Yes. Thank you for returning it, but please don’t put your bare feet on my floor. Let me get you a pair of slippers.”
Jackson looked down at his feet of which the only part was touching the floor was a fraction of his biggest toe. He watched Jinyoung curiously. “What kind of books do you write?”
“I don’t really have a single genre I stick to,” Jinyoung set a pair of disposable slippers by Jackson’s feet.
Jackson spent the next thirty minutes tossing Jinyoung questions which Jinyoung responded to despite himself. This man asked a lot of questions, each not interrogatively but with genuine interest. If he wasn’t asking questions he would talk about his own accomplishments. He even made requests on whether Jinyoung could write a book about him, all which Jinyoung rejected. Even so, there was something intriguing about how fascinated Jackson was about Jinyoung as if he’s never met another human being in his life.
“I’m Jackson by the way!”
“Jinyoung.”
“Nice to meet you, Jinyoung. To tell you the truth, I don’t know this part of town very well. Maybe you can show me around?”
“No.”
“Tomorrow? Let’s do tomorrow,” Jackson reached over to put his arm around Jinyoung’s shoulder which Jinyoung swerved to avoid to open the front door.
“Okay leave now, please.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jinyoungie!” Jackson sang out as he walked out the door.
“Jackson!” Jaebum who was standing by Jackson’s front door re-checked the door number then did the same for Jinyoung’s door. “Did you move again already?”
“No, I was just meeting my new friend, Jinyoung-”
The door shut behind him before Jackson could introduce the two.
“Who’s Jinyoung?”
“My neighbor. Turns out he-Wait, what time is it?”
“Past noon. I was going to take you out to lunch.”
“Shit-my photoshoot!”
Jaebum chuckled. “Not the first time you’re late anyway. I’ll drive you.”
---
Despite the strong winds and the chatter of the crowd on the streets below, today was a quiet day. But peace was meant to be broken by Jackson Wang.
“Jin~young~” a sing-song voice called out after the buzz of the doorbell.
Every possible ridiculous excuse ran through Jinyoung’s head but as soon as he opened the door and saw Jackson’s bright smile, all defenses fell. As Jackson took him down and through the streets of Seoul, Jinyoung couldn’t help but stare in awe as Jackson pointed out the different shops and which clothing brands he’s modeled in before with a strange and particular focus in underwear. He watched bemused at a distance from the rice cake stall while Jackson tried the spicy street food in spite of knowing how much he'll sweat and pant for water. Due to hygienic reasons Jinyoung passed on the ddeok.
The day had wound down into evening sooner than Jinyoung expected. A weekday evening meant everyone would be returning home from work. A lot of people on the street meant a lot of pushing and bumping into each other and spreading countless bacteria and-- "Jackson, let's go home. I'm getting tired."
"You sure you don't want to get dinner?"
"Yes I am sure."
"Alright, let's go," Jackson took Jinyoung's hand but before he could get a proper hold of it, Jinyoung cringed and pulled his hand back.
"Please don't... touch me."
Jinyoung caught the briefly dejected look on Jackson's face which was immediately replaced with a pressed smile. "Please forgive me Wangja-nim for I was reckless and rash. Shall we proceed to our quarters?"
Jinyoung held back his laughter but a smile creeped out which was enough to send Jackson bouncing off again.
Let's go out more often, Jinyoung, Jackson had said before sending Jinyoung off. While that day seemed to be less tiresome than it would have been normally, Jinyoung wasn't so sure how many more days of “going out” he'll be able to take. But Jackson seemed to the type that doesn’t know when to give up, and he was not going to let Jinyoung go very easily.
---
"How much longer do you think it’ll take?"
"Be patient."
Jackson ran a hand through his hair and collapsed on the couch in Mark's office. “It’s been three weeks since I met him and he’s only let me hold the glove on his hand.”
“That’s still progress.”
“Mark, you might not see this through the red curtain on your head, but I’m still freaking out whenever I try to start something new. How can I tell that I’m not moving too fast?”
“Jackson, I know you, okay?” Mark pushed up his glasses and glanced over at Jackson. “You might be a bit dense but you’re also good at reading people when you want to. Just don’t overstep his boundaries without consent."
“Excuse you, me? Dense?” Jackson jumped to his feet. “By the way, what kind of therapist rolls their eyes at their client?”
“You didn’t fill out the forms to be my official client.”
“Official,” Jackson repeated. His phone buzzed. “No free pass for best friends?”
Jaebum
it’s been a while. wanna grab dinner? usual place?
“No. And besides, you’re overreacting.”
“I’m not, you’re the one underreacting. Mark.,” he said with a mocking emphasis on the name.
“People with mysophobia can’t be treated instantly. It’s a very gradual process that takes care and effort…”
Jackson
i'm taking jinyoung out today
how about tomorrow?
“Yeah, I know,” Jackson flopped back down on the couch and closed his eyes. It took effort to reach the holding-hands-with-gloves stage, and he wished the process would at least speed up after he cracked through one layer no matter how paper thin it was. Patience and Jackson didn’t mesh well but Jinyoung was an exception. Despite his aloof, overly-methodical behavior, Jinyoung had an eloquent way with words and carried himself with grace. No matter how much Jackson would pester him-particularly complain about his manager’s new restrictions about his frequent public appearances-Jinyoung would patiently listen and offer him advice on concealing himself better.
Jinyoung, someone unable to get closer than a foot to another human being, had stepped out of his comfort zone to hold Jackson’s hand; he was very clearly trying hard and Jackson needed to return the favor in the best way he could manage. “Alright. I can wait.”
“Could you please leave if you’re done venting, my client is here.”
Jackson did a partial back-flip off the couch and left the room with a wave, calling back, “I’ll keep you posted!”
Jaebum
sounds good
---
Jinyoung couldn’t focus.
His fingers rested on the keyboard at their posts, unseeing eyes staring at the computer screen in front of him but his mind preferred to fixate itself on one thing-rather, one person.
As soon as they began dating-or when Jackson boldly announced that they were-Jinyoung never spent a day without having met Jackson at least once. The fashion model has taken up so much of this time, Jinyoung had hardly gotten any progress on his book, but he would be lying to himself if he said that he disliked spending time with Jackson.
His finger idly traced the binding of a book on his table. It was one that Jackson had bought for him after Jinyoung had just casually pointed it out in passing of a bookstore.
A week earlier when Jinyoung had been anxiously searching for his pack of hand wipes that he used to consistently restock his coat pocket with, Jackson pulled out a fresh pack of his own to lend him.
It was only a day after that the couple had visited a set of palaces that was usually completely void of people (the location was Jinyoung’s choice) but discovering that a surprise winter festival was scheduled for that day bringing large crowds of people, Jackson gently offered that they go somewhere else.
Jackson hadn’t ever knowingly forced anything on him that would make Jinyoung uncomfortable. He had let Jinyoung be the one to decide the speed of the relationship based on Jinyoung’s own preferences.
Jackson cared about him.
Jinyoung knew he was not doing justice to the amount of effort that Jackson was putting forth. And it was time for that to change.
---
Jackson wasn’t the type to plan ahead.
Every event, interview, and date he has been on was improvised and his impatience would cut short any attempted preparation.
But this time was different. This time Jackson restrained himself for an entirety of fifteen minutes to plan, rehearse, and schedule his every action to make sure this date would go in accordance with his expectations. From the location to the cuisine to how Jackson would be handling himself throughout the date, everything was set up exactly the way he wanted.
All this planning unfortunately resulted in a painfully stressed out Jackson pacing back and forth in front of Jinyoung’s door. To be completely honest with himself, Jackson felt that this date might be a hit or miss. What if he hates everything? Jinyoung was already hesitant enough to step outside of the confines of his own private hospital that he calls his apartment and he’s only seen little improvement in the past few weeks. Jackson wondered if he should even bother knocking the door. But what if Jinyoung had already seen him and then later demanded an explanation on why he was loitering by his doorstep?
As the battle raged on internally, Jackson heard a jingle of keys before the door clicked open.
“Oh Jackson, I was just about to… What are you doing?”
Jackson’s back was glued against the wall by the door, motionless in an attempt at camouflage. After seeing Jinyoung’s eyes crinkle in laughter, Jackson proudly pulled himself away with a grin, “I wanted to surprise you.” He hoped Jinyoung would believe that since, truthfully, Jackson was trying to hide in fear and panic.
And Jinyoung did believe it, as he leaned forward with a smile on his face that may or may not have been carried over from laughing, and spoke gently, “Let’s go.”
At that point, a few things threw Jackson off. It was the first time Jinyoung hadn’t thrown an excuse to stay indoors, but instead took the initiative to proceed with the date. While he observably kept some distance, the way he leant in was less deliberate than his usual forced movements. And to add, Jackson felt something. There was a strange mix of chill and warmth that he felt hanging on to him and the tips of his fingers were dancing in delight.
And there it was. Jinyoung’s fingers-bare, exposed, and confidently interlocked with his own.