fthe world where you exist (part 2/3)
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Jongin, Joonmyun learns, has an uncanny ability to sleep anywhere, in any position, at any given time. He’s not quite sure if it’s one of his cat things or if he really just enjoys taking long catnaps with five minute periods of consciousness.
He figures out Jongin’s talent (it is a talent, right? Joonmyun would love to be able to have that talent) for the first time when he comes home from work to find Jongin passed out under the kitchen table. The next day he’s curled up on the rug in front of the television, and the third day, Joonmyun finds him on the floor of his bedroom, blankets and pillows thrown around haphazardly.
Joonmyun picks up after him each time and figures, well, he’s faced worse before. Besides, he can’t actually bring himself to blame Jongin anyway.
“Jongin,” Joonmyun reaches out a tentative hand to tap at Jongin’s shoulder, “Jongin, wake up. At least sleep on the bed.”
Jongin makes a noise of displeasure and looks at Joonmyun moodily.
“C’mon,” he tries to coax, but Jongin stares at him sourly and turns over. “Bed, please.”
“Don’twannamove,” Jongin groans, and Joonmyun sighs.
“I’ll carry you if you don’t get up,” he threatens. It’s an awful threat.
“I’m bigger,” Jongin retorts, and while Joonmyun’s trying to think of a witty comeback, Jongin grabs Joonmyun and pulls him onto the floor. “Sleep,” he says, and Joonmyun sighs.
“Jongin,” he says in warning, but Jongin only wraps his arms around him and stuffs his head on top of Joonmyun’s.
“Sleep,” Jongin repeats stubbornly.
Joonmyun wakes up two hours later with a sore back and arms around his waist. "Jongin," he groans, pulling his arms out from Jongin's hold to rub at his eyes, "Jesus, what time is it?"
The catboy is still asleep though, so Joonmyun wriggles himself out of the arm hold he's been caged in and brings himself to his feet.
It's eight. The sun has long since set, and so Joonmyun stumbles through the apartment with great difficulty to find something to make. He'll wake Jongin up once food's completely done, but for now, he opens the fridge to see if he even has anything edible. He doesn't. Ugh.
Guess it's time to really wake Jongin up. "Hey," he hisses, nudging Jongin's shoulder. "Jongin, wake up."
Jongin furrows his eyebrows and turn over. Joonmyun nudges him again, harder, and Jongin's eyes flutter open blearily. He stretches, as Joonmyun tries very hard not to watch as his shirt rides up, exposing the soft expanse of his belly. It's not that he hasn't seen Jongin shirtless before, but that also doesn't mean it doesn't have that same effect on Joonmyun - like someone's pulled the rug out from underneath him, leaving him frozen up and breathless.
Then Jongin turns over and meows and Joonmyun curses everything godly because isn't Jongin supposed to be the least genetically similar to a cat?
"Jongin?"
"Mm?" Jongin hums as he shakes his head.
"You awake? Awake enough to do me a favor?"
Jongin nods and sits up. His ears twitch. "Mhm."
"Can you be up to open the door in a bit? There's no food in the fridge, so I'm just gonna go out and buy something. Do you want anything?"
"Galbi!" Jongin says, instantly perking up. His tail sways from side to side, and it's very distracting. Joonmyun pets him lightly on the head.
"Alright. My cellphone is charging though, so I'm just gonna knock, okay?"
Jongin hums again, collecting himself off of the ground.
"And for god's sake, put all the pillows and blankets back on the bed."
He can still hear Jongin laughing as he exits their apartment.
Joonmyun stands at the door for a good fifteen minutes before it opens. Jongin looks sheepish, and doesn't meet his eye when Joonmyun walks in.
"Sorry," Jongin squeaks, and even though Joonmyun is freezing, he still can't really get himself to stay mad at Jongin. Especially not when he looks like that. He ears are folded downwards, tail brushing along the floor, and he's even shuffling his feet together awkwardly. It's cute.
"It's okay," Joonmyun says, putting the bag on the table. Hopefully the food is still warm. "Have you at least fixed up the bedroom?"
Jongin flushes again, and Joonmyun sighs.
"We'll have to do that later, then. Let's just eat."
Jongin is silent throughout the whole meal, probably swimming in layers and layers of guilt, and somehow, that makes Joonmyun feel guilty, too. He doesn't like the little pout Jongin gets on his face (though, that, too, is admittedly cute), or the way his eyes refuse to leave the kitchen table. Granted, he still feels cold, and Jongin totally deserves it, but that kicked puppy look is not a good look on Jongin. He's not even a puppy.
"C'mon," Joonmyun calls out after he makes Jongin put the dishes away, "let's go fix up my room."
Jongin trails behind him quietly as Joonmyun scales the mess. It's bigger than he thought it was. Even the bedsheets have somehow landed on the ground, leaving his mattress bare. "Alright," Joonmyun picks up the edge of the bed sheet, "let's do this."
It takes a total of ten minutes just to get the bed sheet on, because Jongin doesn't know which side is which or where he should be standing, and the resignation shows in the slump of his shoulders. Joonmyun is stuck with a really awful idea when Jongin tosses a pillow onto the bed, then reaches forward to rearrange it gingerly.
He can't even grab the whole blanket by himself, which is a bit silly, because his bed isn't that big, but he gives it a moment or two before he yells, "Jongin, look out!"
Jongin jumps on his feet, startled by the noise, then yowls when Joonmyun tackles him onto the bed.
"Stop. Being. So. Moody!" Joonmyun scolds as Jongin flails around in the blanket. "I like forgetful Jongin better than sad Jongin!"
"Let me go!" Jongin hisses, arm reaching out dangerously close to Joonmyun's face. That's probably the cue to let go.
He does, expecting Jongin to catch his breath, but instead he twists himself around and launches onto Joonmyun, who squeaks before Jongin's arms are going down his sides. "I'm not ticklish," he laughs, and grins at Jongin's disappointed face. "C'mon, I'm twenty two."
"You could still be," Jongin mumbles.
"I could," he agrees, bring his own hands to rest on Jongin's hips. "But I'm not. You, however, might be."
Jongin doesn't even get to protest. Joonmyun's fingers dip under his shirt and up his back, and Jongin lets out the most ugly snort of laughter before he squirms and dips his head down into Joonmyun's neck.
It isn't until he feels Jongin's hardening cock rocking against his own when he realizes that shit, maybe this isn't the good idea. And then the whole compromising situation settles down on him. Well-
He strokes down Jongin's side one last time before giving him a cheeky smirk. "Are you going to lock me out again?"
"No," Jongin hiccups, still giggling, and Joonmyun notices the light sheen of sweat layering Jongin's skin, and his dilated eyes. He doesn’t think Jongin’s realized himself yet, though, which means there’s still time to salvage the situation.
"You gonna ruin my bed again?" he asks, and Jongin shakes his head. "Good. Now go sleep. I'll finish the rest myself."
Joonmyun watches as Jongin leaves his room flushing, and when the door behind him closes, he lets out a small groan. Shit. He'd rather have not noticed at all, because now the only thing he can picture is Jongin, mouth open and panting, fingers gripping onto his shoulders as he bounces on Joonmyun's cock, hot and desperate.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. When was the last time Joonmyun got laid, anyway? Maybe it's just the sexual frustration talking.
But he felt Jongin’s arousal, too, and that's an odd mix he doesn't want to think about.
He groans and tosses a pillow onto the floor, the only one Jongin had put on the bed, and drags himself to the bathroom to take a cold shower.
It’s somewhere around four in the morning when Joonmyun’s mattress dips and there’s another presence in his bed. Joonmyun groans and gets ready to punch whoever it is in the face and scream bloody murder when they tug at the blanket Joonmyun’s got bundled up in his hands. That doesn’t seem like something a murderer would do.
His eyes open blearily and is met with the hazy outline of Jongin pawing at his shoulder. “Mmrgh?” Joonmyun groans, when really he meant to say, What are you doing here, Jongin?, but Jongin seems to get the message anyway.
“I,” Jongin hesitates, and even in the dark of night Joonmyun can tell he’s blushing, “I wanted to sleep with you. Can I?”
Joonmyun doesn’t really trust himself to speak right now, so instead he pulls away some of the covers and pats the spot next to him, and Jongin crawls in happily.
It’s raining, Joonmyun realizes, when he finally hears the soft pit-pat of raindrops drumming against the window, and thinks that’s probably why he’s here. Jongin’ll probably bundle himself up in the blanket and try to block out the sounds.
A hand grabs at the collar of his shirt, and then there’s Jongin, shoving his head unceremoniously under Joonmyun’s chin and snuggling into his chest.
Joonmyun almost laughs. He should’ve known by now that he’s always wrong when it comes to Jongin. Instead, he asks, “Is everything okay?”
Jongin nods, and one arm goes to wrap around Joonmyun’s hips. “I just... I wanted to thank you,” he says.
Joonmyun raises an eyebrow and tilts his head back to look at Jongin, even though it’s too dark to make out any features. “For what?”
“For-” Jongin’s blushing again, “for not leaving. That time, in the adoption center. I was, I was so scared you’d leave, and I’d never see you again.”
Something warm and fuzzy alights in Joonmyun’s ribcage, and he feels like he’s simultaneously floating and sinking at the same time. “Dummy,” Joonmyun chuckles, and presses a kiss to both of Jongin’s eyelids. “I don’t think I could have left even if I tried. Now go to sleep.”
He gathers Jongin in his arms and tangles their legs together, trying not to grin too big when Jongin snuggles into his chest again.
He wakes up the next morning feeling great. It’s a Saturday, he has no work, Jongin is in a good mood, and absolutely nothing happened last night. Nothing at all. Nothing on Jongin’s side, at least, and if nothing happened on Jongin’s side, then nothing happened on Joonmyun’s side. They’re all good.
Joonmyun decides to clean the house, because god knows how gross it’s been after Jongin came, and especially with how busy Joonmyun’s been, trying to get the right pace between work and Jongin and everything in between, the house had been left to rot in his wake.
He swipes a finger over one of the paintings and grimaces at the dust that comes off onto his finger. He considers asking Jongin to help, but the poor kitten has only been here about two months, and he figures he should let Jongin settle first before making him do any work. Last time he looked, Jongin seemed very enraptured with a television show anyway.
The feather duster he’s holding is an obnoxious highlighter yellow, which contrasts almost literally everything else in his apartment. For someone as homey as Joonmyun, his house is decorated very modernly - all sharp lines and dark colors, and there’s nothing very homey about it at all. Except for maybe the feather duster.
Which Jongin is staring at very intently now, Joonmyun notes when he sneaks a glance in his direction. His tail is flicking back and forth, very predator like, and Joonmyun pretends he doesn’t feel like the worst prey in the world, aimlessly dusting the collection of pictures on the wall a few meters away.
The pictures look just about spotless again when he turns around and takes a few steps forward, but then there’s a large weight bowling into his stomach, and Joonmyun’s breath leaves him in a pathetic gasp as he falls backwards.
“What the hell,” he manages to wheeze, and the large weight hasn’t let up yet, but there’s a small clatter, and Joonmyun looks to see the feather duster roll a few feet away.
He tilts his head up to see Jongin sitting on his torso, eyes wide and chest heaving up and down, watching the feather duster. His eyes are dilated, Joonmyun notes, and his tail is still swaying from side to side angrily.
“You could have asked,” Joonmyun says, and Jongin almost jumps, like he hadn’t realized he’d knocked Joonmyun over and is sitting on his abdomen. “I would have given it to you.”
“Oh,” Jongin mumbles, then, “oh,” louder. “I’m sorry,” he says weakly, then again, “oh god I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize. I was just - the feather duster was so, I couldn’t concentrate, it was just there, I’m sorry, I’m really, really-”
He doesn’t finish his repeated apologies, because Joonmyun is laughing. Joonmyun is laughing so hard he feels his insides churn and thinks he might vomit from laughing so hard, and that wouldn’t be very nice for Jongin, and definitely not a good impression, but oh god, Jongin is a cat, Joonmyun remembers, and suddenly that makes everything so much more funny.
Jongin looks shell shocked, of sorts. “I don’t get it,” he croaks, and Joonmyun can’t help it - he wraps a hand around the back of Jongin’s neck and brings him down to place a small kiss to his forehead.
“You’re so cute,” Joonmyun says brightly, and Jongin flushes against him.
That Monday, Joonmyun stumbles into his office with a cup of coffee, mussed up hair, and his shirt on backwards. He doesn’t notice the last one until Zhou Mi casually points it out before he walks into a board meeting. The next two hours are spent downing espresso shots and working away at his computer until the letters start bleeding into each other.
This is all Jongin’s fault.
Jongin, who insisted Joonmyun stay up to watch his first ballet play with him. It airs in Sweden, so the time zones make it weird. But it’s Black Swan! And when has Joonmyun ever said no to Jongin?
He doesn’t really understand the appeal of ballet, but it was nice to watch, and even nicer when Jongin put his head in Joonmyun’s lap halfway through. He carefully carded his fingers through Jongin’s hair, scratching lightly behind his ears, and froze when Jongin started to rumble. Purring, he told himself. He’s purring. And Jongin, too shy to say he wanted to be petted, nudged his head into Joonmyun’s hand, and so Joonmyun brushed his fingers through Jongin’s hair, and smiled to himself. The first time he ever got to properly pet Jongin.
“Hello? Are you awake?”
Joonmyun jerks backwards, nearly topping off his chair, except Kyungsoo grabs it and pushes it back onto the floor.
“I’m taking it as no,” he says, and Joonmyun smiles sheepishly.
“Didn’t sleep much last night,” he explains, and at Kyungsoo’s raised eyebrows, he says, “We watched Black Swan.”
“Don’t know much about ballet,” Kyungsoo says, “but it’s your lunch break, and you probably need to get away from the computer. Have you looked at it?”
“Um.” He turns to the screen to see four pages of the letter t and groans again. “I need another coffee,” he mumbles.
“No,” Kyungsoo snaps, “You need food. I’m going to take a guess and say you didn’t bring anything with you, and since I’m always right, I bought you a sandwich.”
“You’re the best,” Joonmyun beams up at him, “Seriously.”
Kyungsoo sighs. “Get up. Let’s eat in the break room.”
“So,” Kyungsoo casually says halfway through lunch, “does your apartment still feel empty?”
Joonmyun raises an eyebrow. “Does my apartment what?”
“Feel empty,” Kyungsoo repeats. “Remember? You said that a few months ago, and I told you to ‘expand your family’. Then you got Jongin.”
“Oh,” he says. He thinks about it. “Does my apartment feel empty?”
He can still feel Jongin’s soft hair under his fingers, and the little excited twinkle in his eyes every time he would have to fill Joonmyun in on what happened, since Joonmyun apparently couldn’t decipher the story through dance. He doesn’t regret staying up at all.
“I guess not,” Joonmyun mumbles. Then louder, “I... I’m happy, actually. Really happy.”
Kyungsoo actually smiles. As great of a friend Kyungsoo is, he doesn’t smile much, not this big, at least. Usually he gives an exasperated small tug of lips, or a sarcastic sneer, but never a smile like this. “I’m glad,” he says, and Joonmyun believes it. “I like Jongin a lot too, just throwing that out there.”
“Me too,” he says, and regrets it.
“I know.” Kyungsoo laughs. “Trust me, I know.”
Joonmyun believes that, too.
Joonmyun attends Jongin’s dance class for the first time in four months. Normally Jongin goes while Joonmyun’s at work, so he’s never gotten a chance to actually see what he’s like. And according to Zhou Mi, who hears from Song Qian, Jongin helps out with other classes, as well as cleaning up and doing little tasks here and there for her. She’s even considering just hiring him, he remembers Zhou Mi telling him, might as well. According to her, he does so much work. That wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Jongin in dance is unlike anything Joonmyun has ever seen. Is this even the same Jongin? The same Jongin who gets startled at loud noises and falls asleep at the kitchen table? Joonmyun refuses to believe it.
He’s got this determined look on his face that Joonmyun’s never seen before in his life, and the way he steps and twirls. Shit, Joonmyun’s entranced.
Jongin’s practically dripping with sweat when practice finishes, and he walks over to Joonmyun with this extra hop in his step, and Joonmyun’s not sure if Jongin’s really happy, or if it’s just the extra energy he’s trying to shake off. Probably a mixture of both, he decides when Jongin threatens to shove his sweaty mop of hair into Joonmyun’s dress shirt.
"How was that?" Jongin asks, grinning brightly, and Joonmyun smiles back, petting Jongin's hair absentmindedly.
"Amazing," Joonmyun says, a little breathless. "You look like you were born to dance."
If Jongin is embarrassed, he's too giddy to show it, but he does wrap a hand around Joonmyun's wrist to tug him forward. "You should-" He gestures towards Song Qian with his head, and Joonmyun raises an eyebrow in response. "Class," Jongin says, and it's now that Joonmyun realizes how utterly awful Jongin is at speaking.
He'd figured that at first it was just the intimidating factor that made him mix up syllables and stumble across his sentences, but now it seems that's just what Jongin does. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts that goes too fast for his mouth to catch up, and everything gets scrambled up somewhere inbetween his brain and mouth.
It's cute, just like everything about Jongin seems to strike him as cute. (Except when he's dancing, Joonmyun thinks. It starts an uncomfortable itch in his belly, and he really, really doesn't want to think about that now.)
"Class?"
"Take a class," Jongin says. "With me. Ballet."
"Me?" Joonmyun asks, pointing at himself with his other hand. "I- I'm not a dancer at all, not in the slightest. Maybe we should leave the dancing business to you."
Jongin pouts, and fuck, that is really cute. "Just one class! It can be a beginners class. I want to see you try."
Song Qian is still talking to some students when Joonmyun looks over, and she happens to glance up at the same time. She smiles, and he smiles back, out of politeness, and cringes a bit inside. She would never let him live this down. "I don't think this is a good idea, Jongin," he mumbles, and Jongin grabs his other wrist and swings them back and forth.
"It doesn't have to be now," Jongin tries. "You can come later? We'll do a beginner class together. I need to brush up on some old techniques anyway - I never learned from a real teacher. Please?"
Joonmyun wishes Jongin could see the face he's making right now; bottom lip jutted out, ears folded downwards, bright, watery eyes.
He's an idiot for thinking he could possibly say no.
The grin Jongin makes is worth it all, probably. He drags Joonmyun backwards until they're standing barely half a meter away from Song Qian, and then lets go of his wrists to turn to her.
"Joonmyun wants to join us," he says, ignoring Joonmyun's small I don't want to!
"Joonmyun?" Song Qian asks. "Can he... do that?"
Jongin laughs. Joonmyun doesn't. "A beginner class," Joonmyun explains. "Like, beginner of all beginner classes. For toddlers. But, not actually. Don't put me with toddlers, please."
"C'mon noona," Jongin says, "imagine how funny it would be."
Song Qian laughs. "Oh, so this is what it's about. Joonmyun, you've got yourself a bad kitty."
Joonmyun grins in response, but when he looks over to Jongin, he doesn't seem to look too pleased. He doesn't look angry either, though.
He's fisting the front of his shirt, shoulders slumped, face facing the floor, and it's probably only because Joonmyun is shorter than him that he can make up the dusty pink along his cheeks and - oh.
Oh.
He decides to play with it, just to be sure. He drapes an arm around Jongin's shoulder and pulls him in close. "We're working on it," he says. "Isn't that right, Jonginnie? Are you gonna finally stop being a bad kitty?"
Jongin gives his best fake smile, one that Joonmyun's gotten accustomed to ever since he's tried to bring him around to friends. "We'll work on it," Jongin says, voice shaking as he shimmies out of Joonmyun's grip. This time, Joonmyun's sure.
"Right," Joonmyun says, deciding to let the poor boy have his space. "Should we come in on a different day?"
Song Qian hums a bit, deep in thought, before she turns to the mirror and points at the flyer taped there. "My schedule is here, all the blue classes are mine. I do actually have a beginner class for adults, but it's going to be next Wednesday. Is that okay?"
"Yeah," Joonmyun says, and looks at Jongin. "Okay?"
Jongin nods. "Okay."
"Perfect," Song Qian says with a grin. "I'll see you both there. Try not to fall too much, Joonmyun."
"That's mean," he sniffs. "And false. I'll be great - I have Jongin, after all."
"We'll see," Song Qian says, challenging, and Joonmyun laughs.
He's going to fall, but as Joonmyun and Jongin say goodbye and walk home, he decides to avoid thinking about it until Wednesday. It's just one class, after all, and it's for Jongin.
Class is awful. Joonmyun doesn't know what to do with his hands or feet and Jongin's ballet shoes don't even completely fit him anyway; they’re way too tight on his feet. But the moment he steps onto the wooden floor, Jongin grins at him so bright Joonmyun’s heart swells and he instinctively brushes Jongin’s bangs out of his face. Mine, he thinks, and freezes at the wave of feelings that crash over him.
Mine.
It must’ve been noticeable, because Jongin looks down at him with concern in his eyes, and Joonmyun swallows down the thought that Jongin will ever only look at him like that, because Jongin is his.
Mineminemineminemine-
Song Qian calls for the class to start, snapping Joonmyun out of his thoughts, and he gives Jongin a smile to let him knows he’s okay as he trudges to the very back of the dance studio.
Jongin raises an eyebrow, but stifles a giggle a moment later when Joonmyun reaches down to stretch. He takes his place in the row in front of Joonmyun and also bends down to touch his toes.
It takes all of Joonmyun’s self restraint not to stare at his ass (He has a very nice ass).
Even under the bright florescent lights, Jongin looks beautiful as he raises his leg up and stands up on his toes to complete a position. Song Qian applauds him, and laughs when she walks up to Joonmyun, who makes a sad attempt at what should be a similar pose. “It’s okay,” she says reassuringly, “you tried, and that’s all that matters.”
“I don’t want to try,” he groans, bringing his leg back down to the floor.
She shrugs and pats him on the head. They’re almost the same height, and when Song Qian’s not in the dance studio, she’s always wearing heels, and that annoys Joonmyun just a tiny bit. “Well,” she says, “you are trying, which is kind of cool. Also, Jongin is really happy that you’re legitimately trying and not half assing this. Try looking in the mirror at his face once in a while.”
She moves on to the next person to judge their technique, leaving Joonmyun to take up Song Qian’s advice and looking up into the mirror. Jongin’s ears are twitching, and he shakes his head before reaching down and pulling up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. He has very faint abs - definitely more tummy than muscle, and Joonmyun wants nothing more to do than get on his knees right here in front of everyone and suck dark marks onto his tanned skin. He wants to push Jongin up against the mirror and press his fingers into Jongin’s hipbones until they bruise and take him from behind very slowly. He wants to whisper filthy things into Jongin’s ears and watch himself become undone under Joonmyun’s ministrations.
“Joonmyun?” someone says, and Joonmyun shakes his head furiously to get the image out of his head before looking up at Song Qian.
“Just because I complimented you once doesn’t mean you can slack off,” she snaps, and Joonmyun apologizes nervously. He doesn’t bother sparing a glance at Jongin, too scared for what he’ll think, and follows Song Qian’s lead into the next step.
“Ow,” is the first thing he says once he takes off Jongin’s ballet shoes. “Oh my god, ow,” is the second.
"How was it?" Jongin asks as he looks down at him, shit eating grin on his face.
"We're not doing that again," Joonmyun groans from the floor. His sneakers feel hundreds of times better, but it still hurts to have things touching his feet. "I'll leave the dancing to you."
"It can't have been that bad," Jongin says. "It was a beginner class."
"The last time I did anything close to dancing was three months ago in a club. That's not even dancing."
"Ooh," Jongin laughs. "So you're not just all nice guy, you go clubbing!"
"Plenty of nice people go clubbing, Jongin," Joonmyun sighs as he pulls himself onto his feet. Jongin can be incredibly naive sometimes. "My muscles are going to be sore tomorrow, I know it. Kyungsoo won't let me live this down."
Jongin laughs so hard it has Song Qian looking over. Joonmyun gives her a smile and a goodbye wave, and she raises her eyebrows and waves back. "You can tell him it was my beastly skills in bed," Jongin says wickedly, and Joonmyun splutters.
"That's even less believable," Joonmyun replies as he ushers Jongin out of the studio. Once again he marvels the fact they live only a mere three blocks away. "You've never even had- unless you have?"
Jongin blushes before shaking his head. "But!" Jongin says, "I would be awesome. Like, it'd be full of like, hardcore stuff."
"Hardcore stuff," Joonmyun deadpans. "Hardcore stuff like?"
"Like, I dunno, hardcore stuff! Whatever that is! I’d be all rough and in control and shit."
"You don't even know what 'hardcore stuff' is!" Joonmyun cries out. "I've seen you attack a feather duster, Jongin. Trust me, a dom is not the first thing I think of when I see you."
Joonmyun mentally sobs. Oh god, why are they having this conversation? He sobs even harder when Jongin asks, "What's a dom?"
Well that's just great. Joonmyun wants to the ground to open up and swallow him. "It's a- you're too young to know what that is!"
"I'm nineteen," Jongin snaps. "And you're only twenty two."
"Why are you suddenly asking this?" Joonmyun asks as they round a corner.
"Because I'm curious!" Jongin calls out as he jogs to keep up with Joonmyun. He didn't even realize he was walking so fast. Maybe it's him trying to run away from the conversation. That makes sense. "Why aren't you saying anything?" Jongin asks about two minutes later, voice wavering. Joonmyun feels a bit bad.
"I'm thinking," he says curtly as they enter their apartment complex. He gives a small nod to the doorman as they walk into the elevator.
"About what?"
"About how shameless you are," Joonmyun says, and pokes Jongin's side where he's ticklish, just to see him smile.
Jongin laughs and bats at Joonmyun's hand. "Cats go into heat, y'know? So we're used to just like, announcing when and stuff."
"Only girl cats go into heat," Joonmyun says as he fishes for the key to the door. "It's so they keep reproducing."
"I call the shower first," Jongin calls as he scrambles inside. He flattens himself against the door, eyes trained against the bathroom door, and it's now that Joonmyun finally realizes that maybe, maybe Jongin has been trying to bring something else up this whole time. "Did you know," he says, hand resting against the doorknob, "that the first cat hybrid to exist was a girl?"
"Baekhyun told me that, actually," Joonmyun says, shrugging his jacket off. "He also said you're her grandso-"
Wait.
"MyheatcomesinaweekI'mtakingashowernowbye," Jongin gasps in one mouthful and slams the door shut.
What?
"Jongin!" Joonmyun shouts, but he can hear the shower being turned on already, and stares at the door in morbid realization.
Joonmyun's waiting on the couch for Jongin to finish his shower.
He's finally gotten Jongin's file opened, something he'd forgotten about after he first came to Joonmyun's house. He's sort of an idiot too, because right there, page six, it talks about Jongin's genetic code, and how it strays from the average feline hybrid. Male feline cat, he reminds himself. Male cats don't go into heat since they don't give birth.
Since hybrids were originally lab experiments, it took a while to play around with their DNA and get the right balance between cat and human The first successful feline hybrid was a female, and by the time scientists had figured out how to produce the same results with a Y chromosome, she had already given birth. And then those children had given birth, and there was Jongin, a male with a female feline's genes.
"Does it say it in there?"
Joonmyun jumps, and the file in his hands spills all over the floor. Jongin somehow managed to sneak past him and change into new clothes, but his hair and tail is still damp. He shakes his head, and a few droplets fly onto Joonmyun's face. Joonmyun sighs. "Yeah, but it's all too... scientific for me to digest, to be honest. I don't get what the numbers mean."
He counts his breaths. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exh-
"It..." Jongin is doing the shy feet shuffle thing again. "It makes it more complicated than it really is," he mumbles. "It's like-"
He falters again, and Joonmyun gives him a good natured smile before patting a space on the couch next to him. Jongin hesitates, glances down at his feet one more time before slinking over to him and curling up next to Joonmyun, tail wrapped around his leg. "It's like?" Joonmyun coaxes, and Jongin visibly gulps.
"I'm a guy, but I... have female genes? So they clash a bit. I have the female symptoms - going into heat, mainly, but it's nulled by the male human genes. Like, I go into heat, but instead of a week, it's only one or two days. And it only happens once every two or three months. That's... yeah. That’s it."
Huh. That's not too bad. "I thought it was going to be w- hey! Stop that!"
Jongin freezes, not quite sure what he's done wrong this time, and hisses when Joonmyun bats his hands away from scratching the sofa.
"Just because you're going to go into heat doesn't mean you get to ruin the furniture," Joonmyun chides, and Jongin laughs.
"So... So you're not mad?" Jongin asks. He's moved on from clawing at the furniture to pulling at his sweatpants.
Joonmyun reaches over to pat him on the head. "Why would I be mad for something you can't control?"
Jongin shrugs. "I just figured..."
"Listen," Joonmyun says seriously, and Jongin's ears flick, "you could grow another eye and I would still love you all the same, okay?" He pauses. "But please don't grow another eye. I don't think cats do that."
Jongin laughs and puts a hand on his forehead on his eye for good measure. "Hmm, no, I think we're good."
"Stop being cheeky," Joonmyun chides, tugging on Jongin's ear. "It's not a good look on you."
"Ow, ow, ow," Jongin whines.
Joonmyun lets go and rubs the area soothingly. Jongin purrs. "So, how does the whole heat thing work? Am I supposed to do anything?"
He stops purring. Joonmyun reluctantly pulls his hand away. "Well, it just... y'know. Raging hormones and stuff. I usually take care of it myself. But Miyoung always said having an extra person was better."
"Miyoung?"
"She's, uh, another catgirl. She was a volunteer at the adoption center. She helped clean up and brought us fun stuff to play with. She was there the first time I got into heat," he mumbles, then blushes. "But we didn't do anything! She just sort of... told me what was going on. She has a girlfriend, I think. Sooyeon."
Joonmyun nods, deep in thought, before he mumbles. "Having an extra person... Wait, isn't that just...?"
Jongin's flush darkens. "I mean, that's just what she said."
"Well, I won't do anything you don't want me to do," Joonmyun says. "So it's up to you."
Jongin looks mortified, and that's sorta weird, because normally Joonmyun would think that having options is probably better for everyone, but then Jongin speaks, and he thinks he gets why.
Jongin is back to picking at his sweatpants. "Can you...?"
That is not what Joonmyun expected. That probably shows on his face, because Jongin suddenly pales, and he looks like he's going to jump, so Joonmyun takes a deep breath and says, "Okay."
"Really?"
"Really," Joonmyun echoes, and think he'll deal with the consequences later. "But, um. How is this going to work? Is this just a heat thing, or?"
"It'd... it'd be nice if it's not," Jongin mumbles.
Despite everything, Joonmyun ends up laughing. He laughs because this is ridiculous, this situation is ridiculous, that confession was ridiculous, and oh god he just confessed, why is he still laughing? "Is that a confession?" he asks. "Are you confessing to me, Kim Jongin?"
Jongin flushes again. "I could not be!" he snaps. "I could be talking about like, friends with benefits."
"Minus the benefits," Joonmyun deadpans. Jongin actually pouts this time.
"This is the worst confession ever."
Joonmyun grins at him and pats his lap. "Come here."
Jongin crawls onto Joonmyun's lap, arms wrapping around his shoulders, and from this close up, Joonmyun can get a better look at Jongin's face. His cheeks are still pink, but now, he thinks, it's more of an aroused flush, rather than an embarrassed one. He rakes his eyes over Jongin's face, starting at his top of his head, where his ears rest, down over his hair, to his eyes, which are peering into his with an emotion Joonmyun can't describe now, over the bridge of his nose, and down to his lips, which are slick with spit and slightly parted.
He glances up at Jongin's eyes, barely has a moment to decipher the emotion as love before he's pulling him in for a slow, languid kiss. It takes Joonmyun no time at all to figure out Jongin has no idea what he's doing, but that's okay, Joonmyun has always preferred taking the lead anyway. He places a hand around the back of Jongin's neck and scratches at the base of his hairline, all while coaxing Jongin's mouth open and sliding his tongue in between his plush lips. They feel as good as, no, even better than they look.
Jongin moans quietly when Joonmyun sucks on his tongue, and a small purr runs through his body at the hand scratching at his neck. He gathers himself up, pushes, and then Joonmyun yelps as he falls backwards, back hitting the armrest as Jongin flails on top of him. Joonmyun's other hand subsequently falls down to Jongin's ass.
"I think that's enough," Joonmyun laughs. Jongin looks up and grins at him, despite his lips looking completely wrecked, and another flash of possessiveness courses through Joonmyun's veins. I did that, he thinks. That was me. "You've gotten enough fun," he says, slapping Jongin's ass lightly, and laughs again when Jongin gasps.
"I want to stay here," Jongin insists, digging his head into Joonmyun's shoulder.
"You're such a brat," Joonmyun says, but runs his hands through Jongin's hair again and lies there with Jongin until they both fall asleep.
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