SHINee Shorts 2013: amlui
Title: Learning the Shape of Things
Author: amlui
Pairing: Onew/Minho
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: No knowledge of the Korean education system :(
Word Count: 7,408
On his first day, Jinki forgets how to speak.
It only took him four months, seventeen pages of application sheets, two recommendation letters, one horrendous essay, one background check, three college documents, ten emails, two missed phone calls, one voice message and one nervous call for Jinki to secure his teaching position at this recently established kindergarten. But in less than five minutes of being in the classroom (their classroom), Jinki can’t even say his name and worries that after Mr Kim Kibum reports back to the principal, they’ll send him back to America with a silver “good try” sticker on his forehead.
Mr Choi (Jinki’s very tall, very handsome co-teacher) on the other hand, doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that Jinki mispronounced his own name to the students (their students) and with a fine smile; he politely thanks Mr Kim for guiding Jinki to the right place. The blonde was already halfway out the door before Mr Choi could get one syllable out, but Jinki is silently grateful to no longer be under Mr Kim’s scrutiny.
Until he is reminded of the twenty-one or so set of eyes currently staring at him, then he thinks maybe Mr Kim wasn’t so bad after all. While he catches his breath, Mr Choi gives the curious six year olds instructions to take out their exercise books and get ready- they were starting with mathematics today.
In five minutes, Mr Choi proceeds to show Jinki his desk- immaculate and stationary draw filled with enough pens to last Jinki his entire stay. He gives Jinki a quick explanation of the classroom’s layout, a timetable of what is taught when and reassurance that “Key-“ Mr Kim, Jinki assumes “-looks at everyone as if they’re a nuisance, please don’t take it personally.”
Before class begins, Mr Choi introduces himself as Minho and promises to give Jinki a ‘proper’ tour once the day is over, because apparently he must see the school’s new vegetable patch.
He smiles again; Jinki’s stomach turns.
“I need to move schools.”
Taemin halts from shoving the leftovers of Jinki’s dinner down his throat and places his chopsticks down. “What?” It’s eleven-forty on a lazy Friday evening, too late for them to be eating dinner in Jinki’s humble opinion, but Jonghyun said he was going to treat them after his music rehearsals finished at ten-thirty; and one is allowed to say no to Jonghyun.
Jinki leans back on his hands, shifting around a little until the brown cushion underneath his legs is positioned suitably. “I need-“ He swallows. “-to move schools.”
“You’ve only been there a week! You’re not thinking about going home are you?!” Jonghyun near shouts; bringing his hand down on the table a bit harder than necessary. “You’re not allowed to leave yet! Taemin!” He shoves the youngest. “Tell your cousin he can’t leave yet!”
In the two years spent away from each other, Jinki had honestly forgotten how loud Jonghyun could be. He met Jonghyun through a college friend and spent the first year and half procrastinating studying with the active, skilled exchange music student until Jonghyun’s grandmother fell sick. Once he received the news, Jonghyun deferred his studies and flew back to Seoul. They might have only emailed and face chatted once every few months, but he was the second person Jinki called after he received his placement.
“I won’t last another twelve months.” Jinki says, considering whether or not to continue drinking his (now warm) beer.
“You’re only schooling kindergarten in English. How hard can it be?” Taemin asks, hastily returning to his (Jinki’s) dinner and ignoring the slight disgust on Jonghyun’s face. Originally dinner plans were only meant to include Jonghyun and Jinki himself, but when Taemin showed up in the early evening to welcome the ‘prodigal’ cousin and overheard Jinki passing an order to Jonghyun, he claimed his seat at the table early.
“It’s not the kids that are the problem.” Jinki reveals. He cocks his head to the side. “Although yesterday one of the kids said my yellow-brown hair was ugly.”
“I agree hyung.” Taemin says. Jinki is too shocked to retort. “You should try red.”
“Is it the school?” Jonghyun tries instead, quickly dismissing Taemin’s undependable comments. “I thought that…other foreign teacher? Mr Kim or something? I thought he told you they were okay about having foreign staff there.”
Jinki sourly thinks that he should have asked for a picture of Mr Kim before taking the man’s advice seriously. If he had known about the pink fringe, he might have thought twice. “I’ve hardly met the other staff, but whoever I’ve spoken to has been nice.” Jinki admits. The only other two members of staff he had met today apart from the principal and his co-teacher were Mr Kim and Mr Park. Mr Kim had verbally abused Jinki for his choice of tie the whole way to his designated class. Mr Park seemed friendly; his twitch was a bit un-nerving though.
“Then what’s the problem?” Jonghyun shrugs. “Kids are okay, the school is okay. You’ve snagged one of the better locations for travelling to and fro. And the apartment-” He side-glances at the fourth, unoccupied cushion, “-isn’t entirely unfortunate.”
“I bought the cushions.” Jinki deadpans. The apartment provided to Jinki by the school was pretty decent, but it smelt a bit of wet paint and the furniture probably needed refreshing.
Jonghyun at least has the decency to look embarrassed. “Oh!” He snatches the spare cushion, examining its detail. “These are, um-“ He comes across a sauce mark and instantly throws it back. “Nope, sorry. I can’t lie.”
“So what is the problem then?” Taemin asks, struggling to get the last couple of rice grains out of his bowl.
It’s now that Jinki decides ‘warm beer is still beer’ and takes a big, quick gulp of his neglected drink. He chokes. “It’s my co-teacher.”
The apartment falls silent, the sounds of Taemin’s chopsticks scraping against his bowl reducing to a complete stop. Jonghyun blinks.
“He or she?” Taemin asks.
“He.” Jinki says quietly, a small part of him wanting to grab the cushion Jonghyun abandoned and hide behind it. Or throw it at Taemin’s grinning face. The latter option sounded a lot more satisfying.
Jonghyun creases his eyebrows. “Is he a dick to you or something?”
“No!” Jinki quickly replies. In the past week the only time Minho had raised his voice was when a couple of the young boys in class were teasing a girl about her two missing front teeth. Sighing, Jinki takes another swig of his drink and recalls lively eyes, shaky attempts at English, cheery laughter, rolled shirt sleeves. “I want to jump him.”
Taemin doesn’t miss a beat this time. “Do it.”
“He can’t do that!” Jonghyun yells, outraged. “This…” He waves his hand in Jinki’s direction, looking for a prompt.
Jinki knows he’s going to regret it, but- “Minho.”
“Minho! This Minho needs our approval first!”
Jinki grimaces. He can imagine the chaos that would ensure if Jonghyun were to intrude their Wednesday afternoon science lesson to probe about whether or not Minho does lifts, what his father does for a living, what’s his stance point on the ‘pluto- real planet or not’ debate and what his shoe size is. Placing his empty bottle on the table, Jinki draws a hand down his face. “I can’t move schools.” Jinki sighs to himself. “It involves too much work and at this rate most of the positions in other schools will be filled.”
“So, don’t move schools.” Taemin scoffs, finally placing his bowl down. “You have self-restraint, right? A few more months won’t kill you.” He gives Jinki’s shoulder a not-so gentle squeeze.
Jinki doesn’t know how to respond and thankfully doesn’t need to as Jonghyun promptly allocates Taemin to washing duty. The youngest whines and pouts throughout the ordeal until Jinki offers to help with drying up (Jonghyun reluctantly joins after he gets bored talking to himself in the next room). Taemin passes out on Jinki’s two seated lounge less than an hour later, with most of the washing still to be done.
Jinki’s finished drying the last plate when he can sense eyes on him. Turning his head to the right, he discovers Jonghyun standing next to him. “What?”
Jonghyun takes the last plate out of his hand, replacing it with another beer. “Go on.” He smiles. “Tell me about him.”
And Jinki tells him nearly everything he’s learnt so far; including that Minho won’t drink coffee past three in the afternoon, Minho always puffs his cheeks when he’s thinking, ten is Minho’s favourite number and Minho looks really nice in blue.
“Hyung,” Minho says, looking up from where his eyes were fixed on Soyun’s self-portrait. “You handled it really well.”
On the opposite side of the younger’s desk, Jinki shakes his head. “I didn’t, really.” he mumbles, carefully turning over another student’s illustration. Jinki’s English lesson on sea creatures started off well until Daejung mispronounced ‘crab’ as ‘crap’. Five minutes later the entire class is screeching, Minho was out of his seat and for the first time since ninth grade, Jinki wanted to hide under a desk. “It was terrible.” He sighs, pushing his glasses up and rubbing furiously at his right eye.
Minho disagrees though, making a few scribbles on the corner of Soyun’s picture. “It was nothing compared to some of the slogans they wear. Once last year, Taehyuk came in with a shirt that…” He pauses, mumbling hesitant, inarticulate English syllables under his breath. Jinki lowers his glasses again, taking in the dark hair slightly matted against Minho’s forehead, the crease between his eyebrows and the light sheen on his angular nose. The last child was picked up at two-thirty in the afternoon but hours later both kindergarten teachers remain in the classroom and even though he looks exhausted, Jinki thinks Minho is gorgeous.
The tips of his ears burn when Minho catches him ogling; the brunette just grins sheepishly. “I can’t remember the exact wording but I know it had something to do with drinking and was very inappropriate.”
Jinki laughs, but it sounds tense. Minho continues to smile even as he returns to marking the student’s artworks with bright stars and colourful praises. Jinki taps his fingers lightly against the edge of the desk, glancing at his finished pile of sketches and the decent stack next to Minho’s hand. “I can finish off some of those, if you want?” He reaches out.
“No, no.” Minho grabs his wrist in an attempt to stop him. Jinki’s pulse quickens under his grip. “You can go home, this won’t take long. If you leave now you can catch the six-fifteen bus.”
But Jinki manages to fend him off, snatching some of the artwork in the process. “I’ll just do these ones.” Jinki swears. “Then we can leave at the same time.”
Minho slowly lets go, bemused at first but soon afterwards the corners of his mouth lift. “Thanks.” Jinki’s ears start warming up again.
They continue working in silence aside from the odd comment about some of their student’s portraits (“Why does Hyori have green lips in the middle of her forehead?”) or plans for tomorrow’s lessons. By six, they’re walking out the door together and Minho enquiries about his plans for dinner because apparently there is a semi-decent street stall nearby. Jinki sways on his feet. “My cousin, he’s coming over.” He answers truthfully.
Minho smiles, readjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Maybe next Thursday then?” He tries.
Jinki nods before he can even think.
Thursday night dinners with Minho quickly become part of his weekly routine (and budget calculations).
“You look thinner.”
Licking his lips, Jinki shakes his head. “I’m eating well, umma.” It’s a small lie, he’s still getting used to nearly everything being covered in red spice. Another thing he’s learnt about Minho is his love for red bean paste.
The webcam freezes but a moment later the pixels shift and his mother is still frowning. “If you say so.”
Jinki moves around an empty tea cup in his hands. It’s close to daybreak and he tries hard to keep from yawning, even though he’s so tired that sentences don’t last longer than a few words. Thankfully there are no classes on Saturdays.
There’s a faint beeping and it’s not coming from his end of the world. “That’s the vegetables.” His mother says, extending her arms towards the laptop Jinki bought her two years ago. “Do you want to check the vegetables with me?”
Jinki smiles and rubs at his eyes. “Sure.”
July comes slow, but as an end-of-term surprise, Minho and Jinki pitch in to hire a bus and take the class to the Children’s Museum. It’s a short vacation for both teachers as the museum staff guide the kids through different zones and activities; although Jinki has a growing bruise above his left eyebrow for most of the visit after Daejung accidentally hit him with one of the clubs used to beat clothing in the Joseon-era home and Minho had a difficult time explaining to the kids that he would definitely not fit into the (kids-sized) queen costume.
None of the kids are happy to leave but they assemble onto the bus compliantly, Minho counting the heads while Jinki gives directions to the bus driver. He’s only half-way through saying ‘thank you’ when a hand grips his forearm urgently. Jinki sees the fear in Minho’s eyes even before he says a word.
“Hyung, could you help me count?”
Jinki nods, standing up beside an anxious Minho and counts the heads as best as he can with the kids jumping around their seats. He can hear Minho echoing the names of each child as he counts, hand still wrapped around Jinki’s arm. He manages to reach twenty before falling short. “There’s one missing.” Jinki says worryingly.
Minho shakes his head, staring at the empty space where one of their kids should be. “Taehyuk.” He realises. He quickly lets go of Jinki and turns to leave. “Will you stay if I go talk to reception?” He asks from the bus stairs. Jinki nods, pulling at the sleeves of his jacket and watching Minho sprint back towards the building. He has never seen Minho look so serious.
“Seonsangnim?” Jinki spins around at the plea, his eyes falling on Youngsoo. The small boy sits by himself in the middle section of the bus, biting his nails. His mother had requested Minho and Jinki try to discipline the child of his bad habit- so far, not so good. “Are we going home seonsangnim?” he asks meekly. A few of the other students echo his question.
“Stop biting your nails, Youngsoo.” Jinki says, and the child immediately drops his hand and his head. Two kids in the seat behind him snicker and Jinki frowns. “We will be leaving soon.” He reassures them all.
“But seonsangnim,” Youngsoo repeats, eyes still casted downwards. He mumbles and Jinki is about to tell him to speak up when- “Taehyuk says he doesn’t feel well.”
Jinki furrows his eyebrows, taking large strides over to where Youngsoo is sitting. Surely enough, Taehyuk’s curled up on his side, head in Youngsoo’s lap. He looks pale, eyes tightly shut. Jinki bends down to feels his forehead, but his temperature is normal. He probably just spent too much time on one of the spinning lotuses.
He’s in the middle of trying to coax Taehyuk into sitting upright when the mobile phone in his pocket vibrates. Jinki doesn’t check the caller before answering. “I can’t find him.” Minho breaths.
Once Taehyuk’s in position, Jinki stands to check on Minho’s whereabouts. He’s not outside so he must still be in the building. “Mi-”
“I might have to-” Minho interrupts, stopping a moment later to talk to what Jinki assumes is some of the museum staff. He hears Minho say ‘thank you’ three times before he returns to the conversation. “They’re letting me check the water playground.” Minho breaks. “But what if he’s gone off with som-“
“Minho.” Jinki interferes, nestling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he tries help Taehyuk stand. He starts guiding Taehyuk to the front of the bus so he can keep an eye on him. “You can come back, he’s here.”
“…He found the bus?”
“Erm,” Jinki looks down at the young boy nestling into his side. He curls one arm around Taekhyuk’s small shoulders and uses the other to hold the phone again. “He was here already. On the bus.”
Minho almost crashes into the bus door when he arrives back, and even in his haste he still manages to bow and apologise to the bewildered bus driver. He moves for the seat he shared with Jinki on the way to the museum, only now a sleepy Taehyuk is situated in between the two teachers. The kid opens his eyes briefly to look up at his teacher when Minho pats his head lightly, before slinking back against Jinki.
“I’m already getting too old for this hyung.” Minho declines into his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and bringing a hand to his forehead.
Jinki watches Minho’s shoulders and back move slowly with every deep breath he takes. “You do not get to say that before I do.”
Minho laughs into his hands. The bus lurches forward as they start to move. “I just, I can’t calm down still?” Minho gasps, pointedly looking down at Taehyuk, who was regaining some colour in his cheeks. Jinki gulps, in search of the right words but they all escape him. “I don’t know what I would have done.”
Jinki wants to tell him that everything would have been okay, he doesn’t want to lie to Minho. “He’s okay.” Jinki says uselessly, concerned at how deep Minho’s frown is. “You can calm down.” He tries.
Minho nods, closing his eyes. “I’ll try.”
Jinki frowns. “I know we’re supposed to do science when we get back but…” Jinki lowers his voice when Taehyuk rustles between them, gripping at Jinki’s sleeve. “We can do english instead, if you need a break?”
Minho looks down at the child sandwiched between them with an unreadable expression. “He’s okay.” Jinki says, reassuringly.
“I know,” Minho says. “I’m just jealous.”
“You shouldn’t be.” Jinki says. “All the students like you more than me.” And it’s the truth. The girls giggle over him more than they do over Jinki (which is never), and the boys always want Minho to play sports with them in break time. Jinki’s just the mean co-teacher who commands them to speak in english all the time and whose sporting capabilities are narrowed to badminton and thumb wars.
Minho tenderly smiles at Taehyuk. “I’m not jealous of you, hyung.”
“Then what…” Jinki stops when he realises. Oh. Oh.
Oh, no.
Jonghyun topples sidewards in his seat. “How’s abstinence going for you hyung?” Jonghyun asks with a smirk, waving a hand in Jinki’s general direction, whacking him lightly on the forehead. All politeness and sympathy between them had disappeared after the fourth bottle of soju (outings to nice bars were beyond their pay checks).
Minho was wearing a cream-coloured beanie when he arrived and left class that day, already feeling the chill of autumn. “Terrible.” Jinki answers. There’s a bit of noise and swearing as he sits up from where his resting place on the cold apartment floor. He waves his empty glass in Jonghyun’s direction. “Again, please.”
“You look at seonsangnim weirdly.”
Jinki should tell his student to continue with her reading, but he’s curious. “In English, Miyoung.”
She excessively sighs. Jinki tries very hard not to smile because Miyoung cheeky is cute but she’s also cheeky and devilishly clever. “You look at teacha weird.” She repeats. “You look at teacha and face go-” She demonstrates, scrunching her round face in what Jinki thinks is meant to be a smile but it better resembles the snarl Jonghyun’s dog makes whenever Taemin tries to pat him.
Jinki’s a bit concerned. “Is that right?” Looking over the top of her head, past the white ribbons in her hair, he checks that the coast is clear. Minho is sitting at the neighbouring cluster of desks, helping a student pronounce the word ‘lilac’. He’s not wearing glasses today; Jinki misses them a little.
Miyoung nods furiously. “You look so ugly!” She claims, reverting back to Korean. Her outcry hooks Minho’s attention but Jinki shakes his head; trying to reassure his co-teacher everything was fine and not make the grimacing dog face simultaneously.
Jinki quietly reprimands Miyoung for disrupting some of the other class members, not that she cares. “But my appa makes the same face sometimes.” She continues; large eyes fixated on the illustrations in her book. Her small pinky-finger traces around the Ferris wheel once, twice. “And when I asked my umma she said it means appa is really happy.”
“That’s,” Jinki nods slowly, feeling faint. In the background, Minho’s laughing. “-nice.”
Miyoung’s ribbons flutter as she nods, turning the page. “Seonsangnim is really handsome. But his face turns ugly when you are around too.” She points to one of the sentences, oblivious to the alarm stretched across Jinki’s face. “What’s that word?”
“You’re screwed.”
“...Thanks, Mister Kim.”
“It’s Kibum.”
“...Minho calls you Key?”
“We’re not friends. It’s Kibum.”
“Okay.”
“...You’re screwed.”
“Yes, I know. Thank you.”
Jinki finds paintbrush number three stuffed into a packet of oil crayons.
“Sorry," Minho apologizes from where he is sitting cross-legged on the floor, wiping down the last of the store cupboards with a damp cloth. "I forget how unorderly this room can get.”
But Jinki merely shrugs, placing the paintbrush aside and continuing his search in the boxes of art supplies for the other five missing paintbrushes. “It’s not the worst I’ve seen.” Jinki says lightly. “At least there’s nothing growing in here.”
Minho giggles, ringing out the cloth over a bright green bucket of soapy water. He takes off his gloves and goes to turn the lights on. The days were gradually becoming shorter with the onset of winter. “Is it really different? Teaching in America and teaching here?”
Jinki nods, smiling despondently. He’s still looking for paintbrush number four by the time Minho returns and takes a seat beside him. “I have to be a bit more careful here about some things.”
Minho gives him a look as though he somewhat understands, which is surprising to Jinki given that he has been told plenty about the tiniest details of Minho’s life (including the toy tractor Minho wants to purchase for his nephew this Christmas). The younger doesn’t elaborate though; instead he pulls over one of the many discarded boxes Jinki has already searched through. “Is it hard living away from your family?” He asks. “I haven’t been away from my family since athletics camp when I was a kid.”
The last time Jinki called his mother was over a week ago, she has been sick with a cold since. “Yes.” He answers, shifting through watercolour pencils when a small, delicate paintbrush enters his view. He glares in Minho’s direction, jealous of his promptness.
“You’re an only child?” Minho enquires, grinning as Jinki takes the paintbrush offered to him. He doesn’t seem to mind that their knees are touching and so Jinki tries to close his mind to the gentle contact also.
Focusing on the task at hand, Jinki merely nods; wondering if it really has been over six months since he has started teaching with Minho. It doesn’t feel that long. “You have a brother, right?”
“Yeah,” Minho answers, rummaging through the box of paints tubes. “He’s finishing his army service next June. Umma is really excited.” Minho carefully pulls out a pair of misplaced paper scissors, laying them aside for now. “She’s planning a ‘welcome home’ gathering. You should come if you’re still around.” His voice reduces to a shy murmur and he won’t look up.
Jinki knows what he should say. He should say- ‘thanks,’ when really he wants to say ‘don’t except he can’t do either because something is lodged in his throat. Minho grips the edge of the box, side-eying Jinki for any hint of a reaction. From this close, Jinki can see the white pattern on the inside of Minho’s shirt collar, the scar on his cheekbone. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands or his words.
“Hyu-”
“Have you seen the acrylic paints?”
He realises how stupid of a question that was even before Minho can react. The younger’s bright eyes flicker between Jinki and the obvious box of paints in front of him. He looks confused, but complies anyways. “I, er-” He starts shifting through the contents. “I saw them somewhere in here...”.
Jinki worries his bottom lip. “Nevermind.” He pulls the box out of Minho’s reach. It squeaks a little as slides across the floor.
Minho makes a face. “But I-”
It doesn’t take him long to grip some of Minho’s shirt and close the little space between them, but it does take a lot of nerve for Jinki press his lips blindly against the corner of Minho’s parted mouth. Cool air tickles his cheek when Minho quickly inhales, and straightaway Jinki pulls back, feeling embarrassed at what he has just done. Minho looks just as discomfited, but he hasn’t moved.
Jinki tremors. “Sor-“
But then Minho’s mouth is on his again, swallowing the last bits of Jinki’s (half-felt) apology. His firm lips move slowly, uncertain against Jinki’s own, still sensitive and rough from when Jinki was gnawing on them earlier. Minho seems to gain assurance faster than Jinki does because suddenly he’s leaning in, placing a hand on the floor beside Jinki’s hip to balance himself, only to stumble when it lands on the paint-brushes they had neatly laid out earlier. Jinki manages to take hold of his shoulder before they both completely flat but it does disconnect them in more ways than one.
There’s a dull, pestering thought in the back of Jinki’s mind as he gently squeezes the clothed shoulder under his hand, trying to normalise his breathing and not give away too much when Minho tried looking into his eyes. Instead he focuses on the Soyun’s desk at the front of the room, the alphabet posters on the wall, the corner of the ceiling-
And then it clicks.
Jinki took a seat at his new desk. “We’re due to get cameras installed in the next few months.” Minho says, as part of his explanation of the classroom layout. “Only one in this room, a couple in the hallway…”
Jinki stares at the empty space in that corner where the security camera would have been, if the school had followed through with its original plan for installation to occur two weeks ago. He almost considers himself lucky, but thinks stupid is probably a better description. Jinki shakes his head.
“I-” He staggers to his feet, dropping his hand from Minho’s shoulder. “I need to go. I’m meeting Jonghyun in an hour.”
But Jinki forgets, the reason all the boys want Minho on their sporting team is because he is damn quick. Jinki doesn’t even make it to his bag when a hand curls around his elbow and pulls him back.
Minho looks like something else; unapologetic. “Wait.”
There’s something there and Jinki thinks he knows what it is, but it can’t happen. “I’ll see you Monday.” Jinki says, slipping his arm out of Minho’s hold. He doesn’t look back as he leaves and Minho doesn’t try to stop him again.
“Only a few months until you’re home!” Jinki’s mother grins. She has treated herself to a haircut since the last time Jinki called. The picture on his laptop blurs as she tucks a loose strand behind her ear. “Are you excited?”
He nods, the smile feels tight. “Yeah, I am.”
“Jinki!”
Before he even makes it to the classroom the following week, Kibum captures and drags him to the principal’s office. “What happened to manners?” Jinki asks.
Kibum snorts in response. “You are one to talk- your horrid fashion sense is the embodiment of bad manners. I will burn all of your ugly ties before this term ends.” He promises.
“My weekend was good, thanks.” Jinki replies. “Hope yours was too.”
In his peripheral vision, he can see Kibum rolling his eyes.
Jinki has met with the school principal only five times in person since starting his term, but this is the first meeting to take place in Mr Oh’s office and it’s the first time Jinki has been asked to visit unaccompanied by his co-teacher. His office is small and immaculate, no photos of family but a tiny, clay dog sits under his computer monitor. It looks like the work of a seven year old.
The principal tells Jinki that the school has been receiving high praise from many of the parents for recruiting such skilled teachers, Jinki included. But he has also heard some anxieties. Mr Oh looks stern as he continues. Jinki hears ‘professionalism’, ‘morals’, and Minho’s name before he immediately begins to panic because shit, he knows.
Did Minho report me?
Mr Oh doesn’t reveal details, nor does he ask for Jinki to confirm or deny anything. It’s a hard task, trying to stay calm as the principal states that he wasn’t going fret over flimsy rumours from one child’s parent (Jinki exhales, not Minho), but he also wasn’t going to turn a blind eye to any other comments that may arise in the next few months.
“You’re finishing with us at the end of this term?” He asks, attention on his daily planner.
“Yes.” Jinki affirms.
The principal hums. “You are aware that Mister Choi is a permanent and very valuable employee of our institute.” He asks without looking up.
Jinki’s not sure if it’s a question, but he responds anyway. “Yes.”
Mr Oh looks at Jinki over the top of his spectacles. “You understand then how disappointing it would be for us and Choi, should we have to terminate him for disreputable behaviour.”
Jinki hardens. “Mister Choi is a very ethical person.” He says, resolutely.
The principal doesn’t even blink. “I hope that remains so.”
Dismissal is quick and Jinki thanks the principal for his time. He avoids Kibum’s concerned gaze as he exits, too preoccupied thinking about white ribbons, ferris wheels, and “when I asked my umma, she said it means appa is really happy.”
When he reaches the classroom, Minho is there. He looks up as Jinki enters, giving him a tight greeting. “Key said you were in with principal Oh.” He looks halfway between troubled and livid.
Jinki nods slowly, closing the door behind him. He uncurls his fists. “I was.”
Minho’s staring at him expectantly, lips pressed in a firm line. They look as moist as Jinki remembers. “What did you talk about?”
Jinki doesn’t look at Minho as he sits at his desk. He feels guilty, but not for what Minho’s glare is accusing him of. ’I didn’t tell him anything.’ he almost says, but then he would have to acknowledge what happened between them last week and Jinki isn’t sure he’s ready for that. “Principal Oh endorsed the end of my contract next February.”
A brief silence follows, in which Jinki bravely looks up again. Minho appears to be taken back, the fold in-between his eyebrows easing a little. Jinki thinks that Minho must know it was more than just that; such a simple topic could be discussed between the principal and teachers over the usual text or email. But if he does, Minho doesn’t give it slip. He flips over the pages on his desk calendar. “February is…” He trails off.
“Close.” Jinki mumbles. Minho looks away.
“Something happened.”
Jinki turns around to see Taemin had stopped a few paces behind him. His cousin’s newly dyed black hair is stark against his complexion; nose is red from the winter cold. “What?” Jinki says, voice muffled by the scarf wrapped twice around his neck.
Taemin points at him. “Something happened. That teacher- Minho?” Jinki grimaces. “That’s why you’re walking around looking all guilty and constipated. What happened?”
Constipated? Jinki turns back and continues walking. He was not going to spend the school winter break being the victim of interrogation. “Nothing happened. Can you hurry, we need to-“
“Tell me or I’ll tell Jongie-hyung!”
Jinki cringes.
But when they arrive at Jonghyun’s apartment, Taemin wastes no time in reciting everything.
Taemin runs around the apartment, swiftly dodges all of Jinki’s attempts at shutting him. He jumps over the couch (“They kissed hyung!”), skids across the floor, narrowly missing Jonghyun’s fun-sized dog (“But now they won’t talk unless it’s about school and- shit, sorry Roo!”), before finally shrinking behind the host (“And did I mention they hooked up in their classroom?!”)
Jinki’s about to scold Taemin when something firm comes down on his head and he recoils in pain. Jonghyun looks angry. “You,” Using the same dirty spatula he just battered Jinki with, Jonghyun pokes his friend’s in the chest. “Have some explaining to do.”
The end of January approaches slowly. There’s only three weeks until graduation.
It’s Minho’s idea to switch their usual final Tuesday lesson (maths) for art instead. The instructions are simple; draw a picture on the front of whatever you want and on the inside, write one thing you learnt in the past year. It all goes to hell as soon as they take out the glitter glue and patterned scissors, but the kids are happy. By the end of the day, on Jinki’s suggestion, they hang their end products on display. Minho is arranges the twine by sticking it to the wall with tape, and Jinki gets an unexpected work out when every student demands to be lifted up so they can hook their cards onto the string.
The mess of the room is catastrophic and unfortunately for the two teachers, the day’s classes finish before they can allocate their students to clean up. “The kids are going to miss you.” Minho says from somewhere behind Jinki; trying (and failing) to clean away loose sequins off the desks. Jinki hums, not diverting his gaze away from the small snippets of artwork on the wall.
Daejung drew himself on the beach, dancing with a dolphin and a crab. He learnt to look at his surroundings before throwing things around.
Miyoung drew a ferris wheel on her card, but when Jinki asked if she was inside one of the carriages, Miyoung screamed no, (she’s scared of heights apparently). She learnt how to say the English alphabet backwards.
Youngsoo drew the bus, with arrows pointing to each of his classmates and teachers (Minho’s driving). He learnt this year that he wants to be a doctor when he grows up.
Hyori drew herself- lips not in the middle of her forehead but still coloured in green. She learnt this year that she has colour-blindness.
Taehyuk drew a miniscule version of himself in the centre of the page, with both teachers standing on either side of him. Minho’s head is the size of a medium-sized button and Taehyuk is holding Jinki’s hand. He learnt to wait after eating before he goes off to play.
“I’ll miss them too.” Jinki says, turning around when his eyes begin to sting and busies himself with picking up some of the fake, colourful feathers littered on the floor. He rubs his eyes gently, trying not to attract his co-teacher’s attention.
Minho does see though, and he smiles honestly for the first time in weeks.
Kibum makes sure both Jinki and Minho are heavily involved in preparations leading up to the graduation ceremony which (thankfully) proceeds without any delays.
They spend the morning running about the small assembly area, fixing each of their student’s robes and hats before the ceremony begins. Jinki’s hands are red from clapping by the time the last of the students joins the stage. It’s not until the students present their English rendition of “Here Comes the Sun” though, that Kibum starts crying.
Jinki is asked to take a few photos with the students and after he’s done greeting their parents (Miyoung’s parents kept their distance), he finds himself with the sole company of Minho. His shirt and tie are different shades of grey; they complement him nicely. Jinki wants to let him know, but he doesn’t want to make his last day any harder than it has to be.
Kibum, on the other hand, appears to have no sympathy for him.
“That was an awful choice of song. Your bad taste knows no boundaries.” Kibum glares at Jinki, his eyes red and sore looking. He turns, roughly pushing someone’s misplaced graduation cap into Minho’s stomach. “I don’t know what you see in him.” He dribbles, before storming off.
It takes a few moments for them both to recover, although the back of Jinki’s neck feels warm. Minho’s cheeks remain a little pink. “I thought it was the best rendition of that song I have ever heard.” He says quickly, as though Jinki would interpret the silence as him agreeing with Kibum’s brash comments.
Jinki knows he’s being nice, most of the kids mumbled the words and as a whole they were grossly out of tune. But still, Jinki feels flattered. “You liked it?”
Minho nods, hands fiddling with the graduation cap in his hands timidly. Jinki sways on his feet, wishing it wasn’t this awkward. They only had hours left before school was over for the term. Minho seems determined though, to start the conversation Jinki couldn’t. “Hyung, I-”
“Happy graduation Jinki-hyung!”
Minho side steps to reveal Taemin, hands outstretched towards Jinki with a (unreasonably large) bouquet of flowers. It took an hour of pestering on Jonghyun and Taemin’s behalf before Jinki allowed them to attend the graduation ceremony; the conditions being that they sit at the back and they stop referring to today as his graduation.
“Go away.” Jinki orders him, taking the flowers.
“Jonghyun-hyung said to give these to you.” Taemin explains, pretending to be offended until he’s reminded of the third party he had interrupted. He glowers at Minho, and the taller just stares back inquisitively. “Didn’t you say your co-teacher was really handsome hyung?” Taemin says. “Because his eyes are kind of-“
“Classroom!” Jinki frantically waves the bouquet in the direction of the door. Both Taemin and Minho look at him with a bewildered stare, although Jinki’s only speaking to Minho “Let’s go speak in the classroom…not you Taemin-ah” He says when Taemin starts following them. ”Go find Jonghyun.”
The hallways are relatively empty, with most of their students and families opting to stay in the assembly area for a while longer. Neither Jinki nor Minho voices anything until they reach the classroom. Jinki flicks on the lights, and it’s Minho who speaks first. “Thank you, for your help this year.”
Jinki places the flowers on the vacant desk where he used to sit, where someone else will sit next year. He turns around and finds Minho standing there, expectantly. “Thank you for…” Minho blinks. “…just, thank you.” Jinki exhales.
His (soon to be former) co-teacher smiles, walking past Jinki and retrieving something from one of the drawers attached to his desk. In the corner, the small security camera flickers a red light. “I won’t keep you long; I just have something I want you to see.”
Jinki shuffles his feet. “I don’t...” have anything for you. Picking some of the fluff off his cardigan, Jinki sits on the edge of the desk and waits patiently for Minho to return. When he does, Minho presents him with a handmade card. It has a football on the front and looks suspiciously like the ones still hanging on the wall of the classroom.
“For you.” Minho says.
Jinki eyes the paper for a moment before accepting with a tiny ‘thank you.’ He flips it open.
This year, I learnt the difference between your and you’re.
He grins. “It’s about time. But how can I leave and be confident that you’re not lying?” Jinki teases, placing the card down next to his flowers.
Minho frowns. “I’m not lying.”
“Prove it.” Jinki challenges him.
Minho puffs out his chest a bit. “I will.” He moves again, this time to the whiteboard. Jinki’s eyes follow up, looking over his shoulder; the classroom is silent aside from the small squeaks the whiteboard marker makes as Minho writes. His voice resonates as he reads the sentence, in English. “Key does not like your ties.”
”That sentence is correct, but are my ties that ugly?” Jinki holds the end of his tie up and inspects the diagonal stripes. “Be honest.”
“They look good to me, hyung.” Minho says, continuing to write the next sentence. When he steps back, Jinki’s smile falters a little and Minho doesn’t look that pleased either. He doesn’t read it out loud, but Jinki can read ‘You’re leaving next week.’
Jinki breathes, flattening his shirt. “That’s right too.”
There’s a moment of silence before Minho recaps the whiteboard marker with a small ‘click’. Picking up the eraser he quickly rubs the markings off the board, but as with most of the cheap markers the school provides, there still remains a faint shadow of what Minho has written. Jinki stares at the word- ‘leaving’.
“You’ll be back to visit family?” Minho asks.
The flowers remain unloved on the desk-top. “Yeah,” Jinki finally says, after Minho takes a seat on next to him on the desk. “Not until June though. Jonghyun says I have to come back and go apartment hunting with him.”
Minho looks apprehensive. “That’s kind of expensive. Getting you to fly all the way over here just to help him look for an apartment?”
“I told him that too.” Admittedly, Jinki was happy to come back- Jonghyun would probably buy a pastel castle unless someone was there to talk him out of it. “But apparently if we don’t agree on wall colours, we’re not going to survive being roommates.”
It was been a long day, so Jinki forgives Minho’s delayed reaction. “...roommates? You're actually coming back to stay?”
Jinki clutches the edge of the desk nervously. “I haven't decided when yet but, err, it all depends on timetables." He rubs the back of his neck. "I won’t be teaching again straight away,” He explains. “Jonghyun’s helping me look at doing some extra units at his university so I can do music teaching? I’m going in with him on Wednesday to speak with someone.”
He waits while Minho gets up and starts pacing, trying to process this new information. Maybe Jonghyun was right, maybe this was too much information to be dumping at the last minute, but Jinki figures he might give it a try. “Are you free Thursday night?”
Minho halts, looking a tad anxious. “Yes?”
“We should go to dinner then!” Jinki tried to sound enthusiastic but ended up squeaking his proposal. “B-before I go. Maybe not at the stall though, somewhere that doesn’t require duffle coats would be nice.”
Minho creases his eyebrows, taking a step closer. “Are you asking me out?”
Jinki swallows. “I’m trying.” He frowns at the alphabet poster on the wall behind Minho’s head. “I’m not sure it’s working.”
The alphabet poster disappears from Jinki’s view completely as Minho takes another step closer. “I think,” Minho tries to smirk, but it looks more like a grin. “I would kiss you if there wasn’t a camera there.” His eyes turn towards the corner.
Jinki wonders what patterns are on the inside of Minho’s collar. “So it worked then?”
Minho laughs, offering his hand. “Let’s go back, hyung. Everyone will be leaving soon.”
On his last day, Jinki doesn’t want to talk.
Instead he lets Minho do the talking, occasionally humming into his phone to let Minho know that yes, he was listening. He was seated at the gate for his flight, forty minutes too early.
“Hyung, you never told me what you learnt this year.”
Jinki glances out the window at the plane he would be taking off in shortly. The card Minho gave to him was carefully placed in his hand luggage.
“I learnt,” He starts. “I am never to do that sea creatures lesson again.”
Minho laughs; Jinki smiles to himself.
Author: amlui
Pairing: Onew/Minho
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: No knowledge of the Korean education system :(
Word Count: 7,408
On his first day, Jinki forgets how to speak.
It only took him four months, seventeen pages of application sheets, two recommendation letters, one horrendous essay, one background check, three college documents, ten emails, two missed phone calls, one voice message and one nervous call for Jinki to secure his teaching position at this recently established kindergarten. But in less than five minutes of being in the classroom (their classroom), Jinki can’t even say his name and worries that after Mr Kim Kibum reports back to the principal, they’ll send him back to America with a silver “good try” sticker on his forehead.
Mr Choi (Jinki’s very tall, very handsome co-teacher) on the other hand, doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that Jinki mispronounced his own name to the students (their students) and with a fine smile; he politely thanks Mr Kim for guiding Jinki to the right place. The blonde was already halfway out the door before Mr Choi could get one syllable out, but Jinki is silently grateful to no longer be under Mr Kim’s scrutiny.
Until he is reminded of the twenty-one or so set of eyes currently staring at him, then he thinks maybe Mr Kim wasn’t so bad after all. While he catches his breath, Mr Choi gives the curious six year olds instructions to take out their exercise books and get ready- they were starting with mathematics today.
In five minutes, Mr Choi proceeds to show Jinki his desk- immaculate and stationary draw filled with enough pens to last Jinki his entire stay. He gives Jinki a quick explanation of the classroom’s layout, a timetable of what is taught when and reassurance that “Key-“ Mr Kim, Jinki assumes “-looks at everyone as if they’re a nuisance, please don’t take it personally.”
Before class begins, Mr Choi introduces himself as Minho and promises to give Jinki a ‘proper’ tour once the day is over, because apparently he must see the school’s new vegetable patch.
He smiles again; Jinki’s stomach turns.
“I need to move schools.”
Taemin halts from shoving the leftovers of Jinki’s dinner down his throat and places his chopsticks down. “What?” It’s eleven-forty on a lazy Friday evening, too late for them to be eating dinner in Jinki’s humble opinion, but Jonghyun said he was going to treat them after his music rehearsals finished at ten-thirty; and one is allowed to say no to Jonghyun.
Jinki leans back on his hands, shifting around a little until the brown cushion underneath his legs is positioned suitably. “I need-“ He swallows. “-to move schools.”
“You’ve only been there a week! You’re not thinking about going home are you?!” Jonghyun near shouts; bringing his hand down on the table a bit harder than necessary. “You’re not allowed to leave yet! Taemin!” He shoves the youngest. “Tell your cousin he can’t leave yet!”
In the two years spent away from each other, Jinki had honestly forgotten how loud Jonghyun could be. He met Jonghyun through a college friend and spent the first year and half procrastinating studying with the active, skilled exchange music student until Jonghyun’s grandmother fell sick. Once he received the news, Jonghyun deferred his studies and flew back to Seoul. They might have only emailed and face chatted once every few months, but he was the second person Jinki called after he received his placement.
“I won’t last another twelve months.” Jinki says, considering whether or not to continue drinking his (now warm) beer.
“You’re only schooling kindergarten in English. How hard can it be?” Taemin asks, hastily returning to his (Jinki’s) dinner and ignoring the slight disgust on Jonghyun’s face. Originally dinner plans were only meant to include Jonghyun and Jinki himself, but when Taemin showed up in the early evening to welcome the ‘prodigal’ cousin and overheard Jinki passing an order to Jonghyun, he claimed his seat at the table early.
“It’s not the kids that are the problem.” Jinki reveals. He cocks his head to the side. “Although yesterday one of the kids said my yellow-brown hair was ugly.”
“I agree hyung.” Taemin says. Jinki is too shocked to retort. “You should try red.”
“Is it the school?” Jonghyun tries instead, quickly dismissing Taemin’s undependable comments. “I thought that…other foreign teacher? Mr Kim or something? I thought he told you they were okay about having foreign staff there.”
Jinki sourly thinks that he should have asked for a picture of Mr Kim before taking the man’s advice seriously. If he had known about the pink fringe, he might have thought twice. “I’ve hardly met the other staff, but whoever I’ve spoken to has been nice.” Jinki admits. The only other two members of staff he had met today apart from the principal and his co-teacher were Mr Kim and Mr Park. Mr Kim had verbally abused Jinki for his choice of tie the whole way to his designated class. Mr Park seemed friendly; his twitch was a bit un-nerving though.
“Then what’s the problem?” Jonghyun shrugs. “Kids are okay, the school is okay. You’ve snagged one of the better locations for travelling to and fro. And the apartment-” He side-glances at the fourth, unoccupied cushion, “-isn’t entirely unfortunate.”
“I bought the cushions.” Jinki deadpans. The apartment provided to Jinki by the school was pretty decent, but it smelt a bit of wet paint and the furniture probably needed refreshing.
Jonghyun at least has the decency to look embarrassed. “Oh!” He snatches the spare cushion, examining its detail. “These are, um-“ He comes across a sauce mark and instantly throws it back. “Nope, sorry. I can’t lie.”
“So what is the problem then?” Taemin asks, struggling to get the last couple of rice grains out of his bowl.
It’s now that Jinki decides ‘warm beer is still beer’ and takes a big, quick gulp of his neglected drink. He chokes. “It’s my co-teacher.”
The apartment falls silent, the sounds of Taemin’s chopsticks scraping against his bowl reducing to a complete stop. Jonghyun blinks.
“He or she?” Taemin asks.
“He.” Jinki says quietly, a small part of him wanting to grab the cushion Jonghyun abandoned and hide behind it. Or throw it at Taemin’s grinning face. The latter option sounded a lot more satisfying.
Jonghyun creases his eyebrows. “Is he a dick to you or something?”
“No!” Jinki quickly replies. In the past week the only time Minho had raised his voice was when a couple of the young boys in class were teasing a girl about her two missing front teeth. Sighing, Jinki takes another swig of his drink and recalls lively eyes, shaky attempts at English, cheery laughter, rolled shirt sleeves. “I want to jump him.”
Taemin doesn’t miss a beat this time. “Do it.”
“He can’t do that!” Jonghyun yells, outraged. “This…” He waves his hand in Jinki’s direction, looking for a prompt.
Jinki knows he’s going to regret it, but- “Minho.”
“Minho! This Minho needs our approval first!”
Jinki grimaces. He can imagine the chaos that would ensure if Jonghyun were to intrude their Wednesday afternoon science lesson to probe about whether or not Minho does lifts, what his father does for a living, what’s his stance point on the ‘pluto- real planet or not’ debate and what his shoe size is. Placing his empty bottle on the table, Jinki draws a hand down his face. “I can’t move schools.” Jinki sighs to himself. “It involves too much work and at this rate most of the positions in other schools will be filled.”
“So, don’t move schools.” Taemin scoffs, finally placing his bowl down. “You have self-restraint, right? A few more months won’t kill you.” He gives Jinki’s shoulder a not-so gentle squeeze.
Jinki doesn’t know how to respond and thankfully doesn’t need to as Jonghyun promptly allocates Taemin to washing duty. The youngest whines and pouts throughout the ordeal until Jinki offers to help with drying up (Jonghyun reluctantly joins after he gets bored talking to himself in the next room). Taemin passes out on Jinki’s two seated lounge less than an hour later, with most of the washing still to be done.
Jinki’s finished drying the last plate when he can sense eyes on him. Turning his head to the right, he discovers Jonghyun standing next to him. “What?”
Jonghyun takes the last plate out of his hand, replacing it with another beer. “Go on.” He smiles. “Tell me about him.”
And Jinki tells him nearly everything he’s learnt so far; including that Minho won’t drink coffee past three in the afternoon, Minho always puffs his cheeks when he’s thinking, ten is Minho’s favourite number and Minho looks really nice in blue.
“Hyung,” Minho says, looking up from where his eyes were fixed on Soyun’s self-portrait. “You handled it really well.”
On the opposite side of the younger’s desk, Jinki shakes his head. “I didn’t, really.” he mumbles, carefully turning over another student’s illustration. Jinki’s English lesson on sea creatures started off well until Daejung mispronounced ‘crab’ as ‘crap’. Five minutes later the entire class is screeching, Minho was out of his seat and for the first time since ninth grade, Jinki wanted to hide under a desk. “It was terrible.” He sighs, pushing his glasses up and rubbing furiously at his right eye.
Minho disagrees though, making a few scribbles on the corner of Soyun’s picture. “It was nothing compared to some of the slogans they wear. Once last year, Taehyuk came in with a shirt that…” He pauses, mumbling hesitant, inarticulate English syllables under his breath. Jinki lowers his glasses again, taking in the dark hair slightly matted against Minho’s forehead, the crease between his eyebrows and the light sheen on his angular nose. The last child was picked up at two-thirty in the afternoon but hours later both kindergarten teachers remain in the classroom and even though he looks exhausted, Jinki thinks Minho is gorgeous.
The tips of his ears burn when Minho catches him ogling; the brunette just grins sheepishly. “I can’t remember the exact wording but I know it had something to do with drinking and was very inappropriate.”
Jinki laughs, but it sounds tense. Minho continues to smile even as he returns to marking the student’s artworks with bright stars and colourful praises. Jinki taps his fingers lightly against the edge of the desk, glancing at his finished pile of sketches and the decent stack next to Minho’s hand. “I can finish off some of those, if you want?” He reaches out.
“No, no.” Minho grabs his wrist in an attempt to stop him. Jinki’s pulse quickens under his grip. “You can go home, this won’t take long. If you leave now you can catch the six-fifteen bus.”
But Jinki manages to fend him off, snatching some of the artwork in the process. “I’ll just do these ones.” Jinki swears. “Then we can leave at the same time.”
Minho slowly lets go, bemused at first but soon afterwards the corners of his mouth lift. “Thanks.” Jinki’s ears start warming up again.
They continue working in silence aside from the odd comment about some of their student’s portraits (“Why does Hyori have green lips in the middle of her forehead?”) or plans for tomorrow’s lessons. By six, they’re walking out the door together and Minho enquiries about his plans for dinner because apparently there is a semi-decent street stall nearby. Jinki sways on his feet. “My cousin, he’s coming over.” He answers truthfully.
Minho smiles, readjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Maybe next Thursday then?” He tries.
Jinki nods before he can even think.
Thursday night dinners with Minho quickly become part of his weekly routine (and budget calculations).
“You look thinner.”
Licking his lips, Jinki shakes his head. “I’m eating well, umma.” It’s a small lie, he’s still getting used to nearly everything being covered in red spice. Another thing he’s learnt about Minho is his love for red bean paste.
The webcam freezes but a moment later the pixels shift and his mother is still frowning. “If you say so.”
Jinki moves around an empty tea cup in his hands. It’s close to daybreak and he tries hard to keep from yawning, even though he’s so tired that sentences don’t last longer than a few words. Thankfully there are no classes on Saturdays.
There’s a faint beeping and it’s not coming from his end of the world. “That’s the vegetables.” His mother says, extending her arms towards the laptop Jinki bought her two years ago. “Do you want to check the vegetables with me?”
Jinki smiles and rubs at his eyes. “Sure.”
July comes slow, but as an end-of-term surprise, Minho and Jinki pitch in to hire a bus and take the class to the Children’s Museum. It’s a short vacation for both teachers as the museum staff guide the kids through different zones and activities; although Jinki has a growing bruise above his left eyebrow for most of the visit after Daejung accidentally hit him with one of the clubs used to beat clothing in the Joseon-era home and Minho had a difficult time explaining to the kids that he would definitely not fit into the (kids-sized) queen costume.
None of the kids are happy to leave but they assemble onto the bus compliantly, Minho counting the heads while Jinki gives directions to the bus driver. He’s only half-way through saying ‘thank you’ when a hand grips his forearm urgently. Jinki sees the fear in Minho’s eyes even before he says a word.
“Hyung, could you help me count?”
Jinki nods, standing up beside an anxious Minho and counts the heads as best as he can with the kids jumping around their seats. He can hear Minho echoing the names of each child as he counts, hand still wrapped around Jinki’s arm. He manages to reach twenty before falling short. “There’s one missing.” Jinki says worryingly.
Minho shakes his head, staring at the empty space where one of their kids should be. “Taehyuk.” He realises. He quickly lets go of Jinki and turns to leave. “Will you stay if I go talk to reception?” He asks from the bus stairs. Jinki nods, pulling at the sleeves of his jacket and watching Minho sprint back towards the building. He has never seen Minho look so serious.
“Seonsangnim?” Jinki spins around at the plea, his eyes falling on Youngsoo. The small boy sits by himself in the middle section of the bus, biting his nails. His mother had requested Minho and Jinki try to discipline the child of his bad habit- so far, not so good. “Are we going home seonsangnim?” he asks meekly. A few of the other students echo his question.
“Stop biting your nails, Youngsoo.” Jinki says, and the child immediately drops his hand and his head. Two kids in the seat behind him snicker and Jinki frowns. “We will be leaving soon.” He reassures them all.
“But seonsangnim,” Youngsoo repeats, eyes still casted downwards. He mumbles and Jinki is about to tell him to speak up when- “Taehyuk says he doesn’t feel well.”
Jinki furrows his eyebrows, taking large strides over to where Youngsoo is sitting. Surely enough, Taehyuk’s curled up on his side, head in Youngsoo’s lap. He looks pale, eyes tightly shut. Jinki bends down to feels his forehead, but his temperature is normal. He probably just spent too much time on one of the spinning lotuses.
He’s in the middle of trying to coax Taehyuk into sitting upright when the mobile phone in his pocket vibrates. Jinki doesn’t check the caller before answering. “I can’t find him.” Minho breaths.
Once Taehyuk’s in position, Jinki stands to check on Minho’s whereabouts. He’s not outside so he must still be in the building. “Mi-”
“I might have to-” Minho interrupts, stopping a moment later to talk to what Jinki assumes is some of the museum staff. He hears Minho say ‘thank you’ three times before he returns to the conversation. “They’re letting me check the water playground.” Minho breaks. “But what if he’s gone off with som-“
“Minho.” Jinki interferes, nestling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he tries help Taehyuk stand. He starts guiding Taehyuk to the front of the bus so he can keep an eye on him. “You can come back, he’s here.”
“…He found the bus?”
“Erm,” Jinki looks down at the young boy nestling into his side. He curls one arm around Taekhyuk’s small shoulders and uses the other to hold the phone again. “He was here already. On the bus.”
Minho almost crashes into the bus door when he arrives back, and even in his haste he still manages to bow and apologise to the bewildered bus driver. He moves for the seat he shared with Jinki on the way to the museum, only now a sleepy Taehyuk is situated in between the two teachers. The kid opens his eyes briefly to look up at his teacher when Minho pats his head lightly, before slinking back against Jinki.
“I’m already getting too old for this hyung.” Minho declines into his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and bringing a hand to his forehead.
Jinki watches Minho’s shoulders and back move slowly with every deep breath he takes. “You do not get to say that before I do.”
Minho laughs into his hands. The bus lurches forward as they start to move. “I just, I can’t calm down still?” Minho gasps, pointedly looking down at Taehyuk, who was regaining some colour in his cheeks. Jinki gulps, in search of the right words but they all escape him. “I don’t know what I would have done.”
Jinki wants to tell him that everything would have been okay, he doesn’t want to lie to Minho. “He’s okay.” Jinki says uselessly, concerned at how deep Minho’s frown is. “You can calm down.” He tries.
Minho nods, closing his eyes. “I’ll try.”
Jinki frowns. “I know we’re supposed to do science when we get back but…” Jinki lowers his voice when Taehyuk rustles between them, gripping at Jinki’s sleeve. “We can do english instead, if you need a break?”
Minho looks down at the child sandwiched between them with an unreadable expression. “He’s okay.” Jinki says, reassuringly.
“I know,” Minho says. “I’m just jealous.”
“You shouldn’t be.” Jinki says. “All the students like you more than me.” And it’s the truth. The girls giggle over him more than they do over Jinki (which is never), and the boys always want Minho to play sports with them in break time. Jinki’s just the mean co-teacher who commands them to speak in english all the time and whose sporting capabilities are narrowed to badminton and thumb wars.
Minho tenderly smiles at Taehyuk. “I’m not jealous of you, hyung.”
“Then what…” Jinki stops when he realises. Oh. Oh.
Oh, no.
Jonghyun topples sidewards in his seat. “How’s abstinence going for you hyung?” Jonghyun asks with a smirk, waving a hand in Jinki’s general direction, whacking him lightly on the forehead. All politeness and sympathy between them had disappeared after the fourth bottle of soju (outings to nice bars were beyond their pay checks).
Minho was wearing a cream-coloured beanie when he arrived and left class that day, already feeling the chill of autumn. “Terrible.” Jinki answers. There’s a bit of noise and swearing as he sits up from where his resting place on the cold apartment floor. He waves his empty glass in Jonghyun’s direction. “Again, please.”
“You look at seonsangnim weirdly.”
Jinki should tell his student to continue with her reading, but he’s curious. “In English, Miyoung.”
She excessively sighs. Jinki tries very hard not to smile because Miyoung cheeky is cute but she’s also cheeky and devilishly clever. “You look at teacha weird.” She repeats. “You look at teacha and face go-” She demonstrates, scrunching her round face in what Jinki thinks is meant to be a smile but it better resembles the snarl Jonghyun’s dog makes whenever Taemin tries to pat him.
Jinki’s a bit concerned. “Is that right?” Looking over the top of her head, past the white ribbons in her hair, he checks that the coast is clear. Minho is sitting at the neighbouring cluster of desks, helping a student pronounce the word ‘lilac’. He’s not wearing glasses today; Jinki misses them a little.
Miyoung nods furiously. “You look so ugly!” She claims, reverting back to Korean. Her outcry hooks Minho’s attention but Jinki shakes his head; trying to reassure his co-teacher everything was fine and not make the grimacing dog face simultaneously.
Jinki quietly reprimands Miyoung for disrupting some of the other class members, not that she cares. “But my appa makes the same face sometimes.” She continues; large eyes fixated on the illustrations in her book. Her small pinky-finger traces around the Ferris wheel once, twice. “And when I asked my umma she said it means appa is really happy.”
“That’s,” Jinki nods slowly, feeling faint. In the background, Minho’s laughing. “-nice.”
Miyoung’s ribbons flutter as she nods, turning the page. “Seonsangnim is really handsome. But his face turns ugly when you are around too.” She points to one of the sentences, oblivious to the alarm stretched across Jinki’s face. “What’s that word?”
“You’re screwed.”
“...Thanks, Mister Kim.”
“It’s Kibum.”
“...Minho calls you Key?”
“We’re not friends. It’s Kibum.”
“Okay.”
“...You’re screwed.”
“Yes, I know. Thank you.”
Jinki finds paintbrush number three stuffed into a packet of oil crayons.
“Sorry," Minho apologizes from where he is sitting cross-legged on the floor, wiping down the last of the store cupboards with a damp cloth. "I forget how unorderly this room can get.”
But Jinki merely shrugs, placing the paintbrush aside and continuing his search in the boxes of art supplies for the other five missing paintbrushes. “It’s not the worst I’ve seen.” Jinki says lightly. “At least there’s nothing growing in here.”
Minho giggles, ringing out the cloth over a bright green bucket of soapy water. He takes off his gloves and goes to turn the lights on. The days were gradually becoming shorter with the onset of winter. “Is it really different? Teaching in America and teaching here?”
Jinki nods, smiling despondently. He’s still looking for paintbrush number four by the time Minho returns and takes a seat beside him. “I have to be a bit more careful here about some things.”
Minho gives him a look as though he somewhat understands, which is surprising to Jinki given that he has been told plenty about the tiniest details of Minho’s life (including the toy tractor Minho wants to purchase for his nephew this Christmas). The younger doesn’t elaborate though; instead he pulls over one of the many discarded boxes Jinki has already searched through. “Is it hard living away from your family?” He asks. “I haven’t been away from my family since athletics camp when I was a kid.”
The last time Jinki called his mother was over a week ago, she has been sick with a cold since. “Yes.” He answers, shifting through watercolour pencils when a small, delicate paintbrush enters his view. He glares in Minho’s direction, jealous of his promptness.
“You’re an only child?” Minho enquires, grinning as Jinki takes the paintbrush offered to him. He doesn’t seem to mind that their knees are touching and so Jinki tries to close his mind to the gentle contact also.
Focusing on the task at hand, Jinki merely nods; wondering if it really has been over six months since he has started teaching with Minho. It doesn’t feel that long. “You have a brother, right?”
“Yeah,” Minho answers, rummaging through the box of paints tubes. “He’s finishing his army service next June. Umma is really excited.” Minho carefully pulls out a pair of misplaced paper scissors, laying them aside for now. “She’s planning a ‘welcome home’ gathering. You should come if you’re still around.” His voice reduces to a shy murmur and he won’t look up.
Jinki knows what he should say. He should say- ‘thanks,’ when really he wants to say ‘don’t except he can’t do either because something is lodged in his throat. Minho grips the edge of the box, side-eying Jinki for any hint of a reaction. From this close, Jinki can see the white pattern on the inside of Minho’s shirt collar, the scar on his cheekbone. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands or his words.
“Hyu-”
“Have you seen the acrylic paints?”
He realises how stupid of a question that was even before Minho can react. The younger’s bright eyes flicker between Jinki and the obvious box of paints in front of him. He looks confused, but complies anyways. “I, er-” He starts shifting through the contents. “I saw them somewhere in here...”.
Jinki worries his bottom lip. “Nevermind.” He pulls the box out of Minho’s reach. It squeaks a little as slides across the floor.
Minho makes a face. “But I-”
It doesn’t take him long to grip some of Minho’s shirt and close the little space between them, but it does take a lot of nerve for Jinki press his lips blindly against the corner of Minho’s parted mouth. Cool air tickles his cheek when Minho quickly inhales, and straightaway Jinki pulls back, feeling embarrassed at what he has just done. Minho looks just as discomfited, but he hasn’t moved.
Jinki tremors. “Sor-“
But then Minho’s mouth is on his again, swallowing the last bits of Jinki’s (half-felt) apology. His firm lips move slowly, uncertain against Jinki’s own, still sensitive and rough from when Jinki was gnawing on them earlier. Minho seems to gain assurance faster than Jinki does because suddenly he’s leaning in, placing a hand on the floor beside Jinki’s hip to balance himself, only to stumble when it lands on the paint-brushes they had neatly laid out earlier. Jinki manages to take hold of his shoulder before they both completely flat but it does disconnect them in more ways than one.
There’s a dull, pestering thought in the back of Jinki’s mind as he gently squeezes the clothed shoulder under his hand, trying to normalise his breathing and not give away too much when Minho tried looking into his eyes. Instead he focuses on the Soyun’s desk at the front of the room, the alphabet posters on the wall, the corner of the ceiling-
And then it clicks.
Jinki took a seat at his new desk. “We’re due to get cameras installed in the next few months.” Minho says, as part of his explanation of the classroom layout. “Only one in this room, a couple in the hallway…”
Jinki stares at the empty space in that corner where the security camera would have been, if the school had followed through with its original plan for installation to occur two weeks ago. He almost considers himself lucky, but thinks stupid is probably a better description. Jinki shakes his head.
“I-” He staggers to his feet, dropping his hand from Minho’s shoulder. “I need to go. I’m meeting Jonghyun in an hour.”
But Jinki forgets, the reason all the boys want Minho on their sporting team is because he is damn quick. Jinki doesn’t even make it to his bag when a hand curls around his elbow and pulls him back.
Minho looks like something else; unapologetic. “Wait.”
There’s something there and Jinki thinks he knows what it is, but it can’t happen. “I’ll see you Monday.” Jinki says, slipping his arm out of Minho’s hold. He doesn’t look back as he leaves and Minho doesn’t try to stop him again.
“Only a few months until you’re home!” Jinki’s mother grins. She has treated herself to a haircut since the last time Jinki called. The picture on his laptop blurs as she tucks a loose strand behind her ear. “Are you excited?”
He nods, the smile feels tight. “Yeah, I am.”
“Jinki!”
Before he even makes it to the classroom the following week, Kibum captures and drags him to the principal’s office. “What happened to manners?” Jinki asks.
Kibum snorts in response. “You are one to talk- your horrid fashion sense is the embodiment of bad manners. I will burn all of your ugly ties before this term ends.” He promises.
“My weekend was good, thanks.” Jinki replies. “Hope yours was too.”
In his peripheral vision, he can see Kibum rolling his eyes.
Jinki has met with the school principal only five times in person since starting his term, but this is the first meeting to take place in Mr Oh’s office and it’s the first time Jinki has been asked to visit unaccompanied by his co-teacher. His office is small and immaculate, no photos of family but a tiny, clay dog sits under his computer monitor. It looks like the work of a seven year old.
The principal tells Jinki that the school has been receiving high praise from many of the parents for recruiting such skilled teachers, Jinki included. But he has also heard some anxieties. Mr Oh looks stern as he continues. Jinki hears ‘professionalism’, ‘morals’, and Minho’s name before he immediately begins to panic because shit, he knows.
Did Minho report me?
Mr Oh doesn’t reveal details, nor does he ask for Jinki to confirm or deny anything. It’s a hard task, trying to stay calm as the principal states that he wasn’t going fret over flimsy rumours from one child’s parent (Jinki exhales, not Minho), but he also wasn’t going to turn a blind eye to any other comments that may arise in the next few months.
“You’re finishing with us at the end of this term?” He asks, attention on his daily planner.
“Yes.” Jinki affirms.
The principal hums. “You are aware that Mister Choi is a permanent and very valuable employee of our institute.” He asks without looking up.
Jinki’s not sure if it’s a question, but he responds anyway. “Yes.”
Mr Oh looks at Jinki over the top of his spectacles. “You understand then how disappointing it would be for us and Choi, should we have to terminate him for disreputable behaviour.”
Jinki hardens. “Mister Choi is a very ethical person.” He says, resolutely.
The principal doesn’t even blink. “I hope that remains so.”
Dismissal is quick and Jinki thanks the principal for his time. He avoids Kibum’s concerned gaze as he exits, too preoccupied thinking about white ribbons, ferris wheels, and “when I asked my umma, she said it means appa is really happy.”
When he reaches the classroom, Minho is there. He looks up as Jinki enters, giving him a tight greeting. “Key said you were in with principal Oh.” He looks halfway between troubled and livid.
Jinki nods slowly, closing the door behind him. He uncurls his fists. “I was.”
Minho’s staring at him expectantly, lips pressed in a firm line. They look as moist as Jinki remembers. “What did you talk about?”
Jinki doesn’t look at Minho as he sits at his desk. He feels guilty, but not for what Minho’s glare is accusing him of. ’I didn’t tell him anything.’ he almost says, but then he would have to acknowledge what happened between them last week and Jinki isn’t sure he’s ready for that. “Principal Oh endorsed the end of my contract next February.”
A brief silence follows, in which Jinki bravely looks up again. Minho appears to be taken back, the fold in-between his eyebrows easing a little. Jinki thinks that Minho must know it was more than just that; such a simple topic could be discussed between the principal and teachers over the usual text or email. But if he does, Minho doesn’t give it slip. He flips over the pages on his desk calendar. “February is…” He trails off.
“Close.” Jinki mumbles. Minho looks away.
“Something happened.”
Jinki turns around to see Taemin had stopped a few paces behind him. His cousin’s newly dyed black hair is stark against his complexion; nose is red from the winter cold. “What?” Jinki says, voice muffled by the scarf wrapped twice around his neck.
Taemin points at him. “Something happened. That teacher- Minho?” Jinki grimaces. “That’s why you’re walking around looking all guilty and constipated. What happened?”
Constipated? Jinki turns back and continues walking. He was not going to spend the school winter break being the victim of interrogation. “Nothing happened. Can you hurry, we need to-“
“Tell me or I’ll tell Jongie-hyung!”
Jinki cringes.
But when they arrive at Jonghyun’s apartment, Taemin wastes no time in reciting everything.
Taemin runs around the apartment, swiftly dodges all of Jinki’s attempts at shutting him. He jumps over the couch (“They kissed hyung!”), skids across the floor, narrowly missing Jonghyun’s fun-sized dog (“But now they won’t talk unless it’s about school and- shit, sorry Roo!”), before finally shrinking behind the host (“And did I mention they hooked up in their classroom?!”)
Jinki’s about to scold Taemin when something firm comes down on his head and he recoils in pain. Jonghyun looks angry. “You,” Using the same dirty spatula he just battered Jinki with, Jonghyun pokes his friend’s in the chest. “Have some explaining to do.”
The end of January approaches slowly. There’s only three weeks until graduation.
It’s Minho’s idea to switch their usual final Tuesday lesson (maths) for art instead. The instructions are simple; draw a picture on the front of whatever you want and on the inside, write one thing you learnt in the past year. It all goes to hell as soon as they take out the glitter glue and patterned scissors, but the kids are happy. By the end of the day, on Jinki’s suggestion, they hang their end products on display. Minho is arranges the twine by sticking it to the wall with tape, and Jinki gets an unexpected work out when every student demands to be lifted up so they can hook their cards onto the string.
The mess of the room is catastrophic and unfortunately for the two teachers, the day’s classes finish before they can allocate their students to clean up. “The kids are going to miss you.” Minho says from somewhere behind Jinki; trying (and failing) to clean away loose sequins off the desks. Jinki hums, not diverting his gaze away from the small snippets of artwork on the wall.
Daejung drew himself on the beach, dancing with a dolphin and a crab. He learnt to look at his surroundings before throwing things around.
Miyoung drew a ferris wheel on her card, but when Jinki asked if she was inside one of the carriages, Miyoung screamed no, (she’s scared of heights apparently). She learnt how to say the English alphabet backwards.
Youngsoo drew the bus, with arrows pointing to each of his classmates and teachers (Minho’s driving). He learnt this year that he wants to be a doctor when he grows up.
Hyori drew herself- lips not in the middle of her forehead but still coloured in green. She learnt this year that she has colour-blindness.
Taehyuk drew a miniscule version of himself in the centre of the page, with both teachers standing on either side of him. Minho’s head is the size of a medium-sized button and Taehyuk is holding Jinki’s hand. He learnt to wait after eating before he goes off to play.
“I’ll miss them too.” Jinki says, turning around when his eyes begin to sting and busies himself with picking up some of the fake, colourful feathers littered on the floor. He rubs his eyes gently, trying not to attract his co-teacher’s attention.
Minho does see though, and he smiles honestly for the first time in weeks.
Kibum makes sure both Jinki and Minho are heavily involved in preparations leading up to the graduation ceremony which (thankfully) proceeds without any delays.
They spend the morning running about the small assembly area, fixing each of their student’s robes and hats before the ceremony begins. Jinki’s hands are red from clapping by the time the last of the students joins the stage. It’s not until the students present their English rendition of “Here Comes the Sun” though, that Kibum starts crying.
Jinki is asked to take a few photos with the students and after he’s done greeting their parents (Miyoung’s parents kept their distance), he finds himself with the sole company of Minho. His shirt and tie are different shades of grey; they complement him nicely. Jinki wants to let him know, but he doesn’t want to make his last day any harder than it has to be.
Kibum, on the other hand, appears to have no sympathy for him.
“That was an awful choice of song. Your bad taste knows no boundaries.” Kibum glares at Jinki, his eyes red and sore looking. He turns, roughly pushing someone’s misplaced graduation cap into Minho’s stomach. “I don’t know what you see in him.” He dribbles, before storming off.
It takes a few moments for them both to recover, although the back of Jinki’s neck feels warm. Minho’s cheeks remain a little pink. “I thought it was the best rendition of that song I have ever heard.” He says quickly, as though Jinki would interpret the silence as him agreeing with Kibum’s brash comments.
Jinki knows he’s being nice, most of the kids mumbled the words and as a whole they were grossly out of tune. But still, Jinki feels flattered. “You liked it?”
Minho nods, hands fiddling with the graduation cap in his hands timidly. Jinki sways on his feet, wishing it wasn’t this awkward. They only had hours left before school was over for the term. Minho seems determined though, to start the conversation Jinki couldn’t. “Hyung, I-”
“Happy graduation Jinki-hyung!”
Minho side steps to reveal Taemin, hands outstretched towards Jinki with a (unreasonably large) bouquet of flowers. It took an hour of pestering on Jonghyun and Taemin’s behalf before Jinki allowed them to attend the graduation ceremony; the conditions being that they sit at the back and they stop referring to today as his graduation.
“Go away.” Jinki orders him, taking the flowers.
“Jonghyun-hyung said to give these to you.” Taemin explains, pretending to be offended until he’s reminded of the third party he had interrupted. He glowers at Minho, and the taller just stares back inquisitively. “Didn’t you say your co-teacher was really handsome hyung?” Taemin says. “Because his eyes are kind of-“
“Classroom!” Jinki frantically waves the bouquet in the direction of the door. Both Taemin and Minho look at him with a bewildered stare, although Jinki’s only speaking to Minho “Let’s go speak in the classroom…not you Taemin-ah” He says when Taemin starts following them. ”Go find Jonghyun.”
The hallways are relatively empty, with most of their students and families opting to stay in the assembly area for a while longer. Neither Jinki nor Minho voices anything until they reach the classroom. Jinki flicks on the lights, and it’s Minho who speaks first. “Thank you, for your help this year.”
Jinki places the flowers on the vacant desk where he used to sit, where someone else will sit next year. He turns around and finds Minho standing there, expectantly. “Thank you for…” Minho blinks. “…just, thank you.” Jinki exhales.
His (soon to be former) co-teacher smiles, walking past Jinki and retrieving something from one of the drawers attached to his desk. In the corner, the small security camera flickers a red light. “I won’t keep you long; I just have something I want you to see.”
Jinki shuffles his feet. “I don’t...” have anything for you. Picking some of the fluff off his cardigan, Jinki sits on the edge of the desk and waits patiently for Minho to return. When he does, Minho presents him with a handmade card. It has a football on the front and looks suspiciously like the ones still hanging on the wall of the classroom.
“For you.” Minho says.
Jinki eyes the paper for a moment before accepting with a tiny ‘thank you.’ He flips it open.
This year, I learnt the difference between your and you’re.
He grins. “It’s about time. But how can I leave and be confident that you’re not lying?” Jinki teases, placing the card down next to his flowers.
Minho frowns. “I’m not lying.”
“Prove it.” Jinki challenges him.
Minho puffs out his chest a bit. “I will.” He moves again, this time to the whiteboard. Jinki’s eyes follow up, looking over his shoulder; the classroom is silent aside from the small squeaks the whiteboard marker makes as Minho writes. His voice resonates as he reads the sentence, in English. “Key does not like your ties.”
”That sentence is correct, but are my ties that ugly?” Jinki holds the end of his tie up and inspects the diagonal stripes. “Be honest.”
“They look good to me, hyung.” Minho says, continuing to write the next sentence. When he steps back, Jinki’s smile falters a little and Minho doesn’t look that pleased either. He doesn’t read it out loud, but Jinki can read ‘You’re leaving next week.’
Jinki breathes, flattening his shirt. “That’s right too.”
There’s a moment of silence before Minho recaps the whiteboard marker with a small ‘click’. Picking up the eraser he quickly rubs the markings off the board, but as with most of the cheap markers the school provides, there still remains a faint shadow of what Minho has written. Jinki stares at the word- ‘leaving’.
“You’ll be back to visit family?” Minho asks.
The flowers remain unloved on the desk-top. “Yeah,” Jinki finally says, after Minho takes a seat on next to him on the desk. “Not until June though. Jonghyun says I have to come back and go apartment hunting with him.”
Minho looks apprehensive. “That’s kind of expensive. Getting you to fly all the way over here just to help him look for an apartment?”
“I told him that too.” Admittedly, Jinki was happy to come back- Jonghyun would probably buy a pastel castle unless someone was there to talk him out of it. “But apparently if we don’t agree on wall colours, we’re not going to survive being roommates.”
It was been a long day, so Jinki forgives Minho’s delayed reaction. “...roommates? You're actually coming back to stay?”
Jinki clutches the edge of the desk nervously. “I haven't decided when yet but, err, it all depends on timetables." He rubs the back of his neck. "I won’t be teaching again straight away,” He explains. “Jonghyun’s helping me look at doing some extra units at his university so I can do music teaching? I’m going in with him on Wednesday to speak with someone.”
He waits while Minho gets up and starts pacing, trying to process this new information. Maybe Jonghyun was right, maybe this was too much information to be dumping at the last minute, but Jinki figures he might give it a try. “Are you free Thursday night?”
Minho halts, looking a tad anxious. “Yes?”
“We should go to dinner then!” Jinki tried to sound enthusiastic but ended up squeaking his proposal. “B-before I go. Maybe not at the stall though, somewhere that doesn’t require duffle coats would be nice.”
Minho creases his eyebrows, taking a step closer. “Are you asking me out?”
Jinki swallows. “I’m trying.” He frowns at the alphabet poster on the wall behind Minho’s head. “I’m not sure it’s working.”
The alphabet poster disappears from Jinki’s view completely as Minho takes another step closer. “I think,” Minho tries to smirk, but it looks more like a grin. “I would kiss you if there wasn’t a camera there.” His eyes turn towards the corner.
Jinki wonders what patterns are on the inside of Minho’s collar. “So it worked then?”
Minho laughs, offering his hand. “Let’s go back, hyung. Everyone will be leaving soon.”
On his last day, Jinki doesn’t want to talk.
Instead he lets Minho do the talking, occasionally humming into his phone to let Minho know that yes, he was listening. He was seated at the gate for his flight, forty minutes too early.
“Hyung, you never told me what you learnt this year.”
Jinki glances out the window at the plane he would be taking off in shortly. The card Minho gave to him was carefully placed in his hand luggage.
“I learnt,” He starts. “I am never to do that sea creatures lesson again.”
Minho laughs; Jinki smiles to himself.