jiggity [sukai]
title: jiggity
genre: crack?angst??
pairing: sukai
rating: PG
length: 2k
ALSO: i hereby dedicate this to madina who has motivated me to continue this fic by occasionally tweeting me encouraging things. also because she's a world-class cutie hell yeah
jiggity
kim joonmyun considers himself to be a rather laid-back chap. he never multi-tasks, isn't too politically correct, and still avoids eating the crust when chewing down his mother's (failed attempts at) loaves. and most of all, kim joonmyun lives dangerously. sometimes, he crosses the street only having looked to the left, and he isn't afraid to stand up for the things he believes in. what can he say? he's just the type who enjoys the ferocious thrill of living on the edge.
though even with these occasional shenanigans, he's a good guy, through and through. he is always eager to help those in need. like when the popular kids tripped poor park chanyeol and tried to steal his lunch money when they were freshmen, he stood right up to them. admittedly, he ended up in the hospital, and the bullies continued to push chanyeol around until they graduated that spring. plus, chanyeol took this as a sign of their undying friendship and for the past two years, has plastered himself to joonmyun's side with an almost distressing dedication. but hey. he did it for a good cause, and that was what mattered, right?
there is one downfall to him, though you might consider it the opposite; because this trait is good in moderation, but when it becomes somewhat of an obsession - that's when the trouble starts. when i say trouble, it's ocd or other mental diseases. trouble simply means more trips to the school nurse, because
kim joonmyun
must
have
order.
this trait alone would not cause all that much trouble, right? but not only is he organized and tiny and bound entirely by routines, he is also violently stubborn.
and so, when he enters the english classroom in the first week of his senior year, and finds that the seat he has religiously thought of as his for years, is taken. and not just by anyone - but by some guy he has never seen before, perhaps even just a confused freshman. joonmyun clears his throat. it's okay, he tells himself. he'll just politely ask this guy to leave, and he will. right?
"that is my seat."
"i'm sorry. what?" the kid frowns at him. joonmyun closes his eyes. deep breaths, now. deep breaths.
let me tell you about kim joonmyun's dream after high school.
unlike many of his classmates, he doesn't dream of becoming a mass millionaire or a famous pop idol. all joonmyun wants, is to marry a cute girl, find a nice apartment in gangnam, where he has grown up, have kids. by 30, he'll be the father of two snotty brats and be truly settled down. he wants nothing more than an average life, an average wife and an average profession, with no disturbances.
and this? this is a disturbance.
he clears his throat.
"excuse me. this has been my regular seat for three years now," he says, plastering the brightest smile he can muster on his face.
"oh," the boy says. but he doesn't move. the kid just sits there, with his stupid face and plump lips and coffee eyes and shiny side-swept dark brown bangs and by st. boogar and all the saints at the backside door of purgatory, even their boring grey uniform appeared more stylish on him. (not that joonmyun cared about looks, anyway, or really noticed, or anything)
ahem, yes. anyway, this kid's utter lack of interest seems to be somehow even more provoking.
"i'll have to ask you to please find another seat," joonmyun says through his teeth.
"um. no?" the kid has the nerve to say. he looks slightly quizzical as to why this stranger is suddenly demanding to have this exact seat. joonmyun has no choice but to clench his teeth and find himself another place to sit. this is outrageous, he thinks. how does the kid even find the nerve?
mid-lesson, as he's still quietly fuming, something hits the back of his head, before tumbling to the ground. it's a note. and again, because he's just that badass, joonmyun snatches it up from the ground and folds it out carefully.
oh my god you spoke to kim jongin it reads. joonmyun rolls his eyes, then glances to the left. as if the characteristically messy and extremely tiny handwriting left any doubt, the multitude of dramatic expressions chanyeol is switching between currently doesn't. joonmyun sighs and scrawls down a message of his own.
who
a minute later, he receives a reply.
kim jongin. the hottest freshman of the year???????? how have you not heard about jongin oh my god
aha. so that's it. this kid is obviously used to getting everything he wants. he's every teacher's golden boy and probably rich, too. not exactly lacking in the looks department, either, from, um. well. observations.
but what's really driving joonmyun crazy, is the fact that he can't focus on anything other than the back of jongin's stupid brown haired head for the entire class. he tries, but all he can think about are thoughts like "why is he even in advanced english" and "i don't even know what all the girls in this school is so obsessed about he's not even that attractive" but then realizes that he's lying to himself so he promptly shuts his mind up and decides to actually focus on the lesson.
jongin is chewing on his pencil. ew, joonmyun thinks. what a truly disgusting human specimen. joonmyun might be a laid-back guy. but that's just plain unhygienic. but sometime mid-lesson, jongin puts down the pencil and opts for gazing out the window instead, eyes fluttering shut occasionally. and then, joonmyun can't deny the fact that he's, well... this kid is really quite... pretty.
even if he's a stubborn thief.
*
"i hate you."
"don't hate me."
joonmyun crosses his arms. it's wednesday. 3rd period. advanced biology. and that little brat has once again decided to sit at the exact same seat as joonmyun has claimed as his.
"are you doing this on purpose?" is the next thing joonmyun asks, because, well, how else does this keep happening? but all jongin does is shrug and then wink at him. on the other side of the classroom, chanyeol looks like he's about to faint.
more disturbingly, jongin has started to say hi to him every time they pass each other. and not only that: he keeps smiling. like, brilliantly. teeth whiter than the gums of someone in a toothpaste commercial, eyes crinkled up all jongin-y and stupid. stupid, joonmyun thinks.
the situation becomes so distressing that one night, joonmyun finds himself with a desperate need to to fish out his diary. under the light of the wonky, old lamp on his bedside table, he scrawls angrily:
"dear kim jongin.
you are a freshman and i am a senior.
there is no reason for you to be this attractive
can you stop"
*
on valentine's day. there's a lethargic looking rose lying on his desk. he eyes it blankly. somehow, he just knows.
"you're going to have to work harder than that," he says when jongin has taken his seat in front him him. jongin just grins in response, as bright as ever.
"sure."
later that day, chanyeol hands him an overwhelming bouquet of roses and says he's sworn to secrecy when joonmyun asks him who it's from.
still, after that day, when jongin passes him in the hallways, or when their eyes meet and joonmyun's heartbeat does that weird speeding-up thing he's been thinking of visiting the nurse's office for, and his cheeks start burning,
he decides to start smiling back.
*
somehow, the two of them get thrown together to work together on a 10-page essay on some british author. group work strengthens character, their teacher claims when he is met with reluctance by his students.
they meet! they talk! somehow, joonmyun finds jongin to be much more sympathetic than he first assumed. strangely, their conversation flows so naturally. out of the school setting, surrounded by dozens upon dozens of other kids, who leave you with no chance but to show no sign of weakness to, to simply survive the day, jongin is far shyer and unexpectedly cuter than joonmyun would have expected.
in fact, they end up doing far more talking than actual studying. but somehow, joonmyun doesn't feel like it's a waste of time at all.
joonmyun learns that the reason jongin is in so many advanced classes is because every night from either 3pm to 7pm or 8pm to 11pm, he goes to dance practice. ballet, jazz, modern,tap, jongin loves it all, but his main focus is ballet. he's going to graduate early and then try to join a dance company. it's his passion, he says. he figures that some people aren't so lucky to find what they want to do in life at such a young age, but he has, so he has to try, at least.
"do you think it's stupid?" jongin asks, and he sounds so young and vulnerable to joonmyun. there's this feeling, this odd aching sensation in his chest, and he simply can't help the way he threads his fingers through jongin's and squeezes the younger's hand reassuringly, ignoring the way his cheeks heat up and how under jongin's tan skin, there might be a sign of a blush, too, if you look close enough.
"no, i don't think it's stupid."
*
the day before their essay is due, joonmyun gets a call. it's his mother.
he rushes to the hospital, not even thinking of leaving jongin as much as a note.
after being assured by the doctors that his mother's state is no longer critical, he passes out in the waiting room. when he wakes up, he realizes that, shit, he was supposed to send jongin his part of the essay last night so that the younger could turn it in. frantically, he turns on his phone and checks the missed calls and new messages.
17 missed calls.
8 messages.
he can't stand listening to jongin's voice right now, so he scrolls down the messages instead. they're all casual and cute in the beginning, full of emoji's, but grow increasingly worried. the two last messages, sent at 23:46 and then 23:47, are simply
joonmyun hyung?
and then
joonmyun.
joonmyun runs his fingers through his hair and sighs.
he knows what's going to happen. and it's not about the essay, not really. in the end, it simply won't work. jongin is a free spirit. he's a dancer, an artist. the way he chooses to live is not practical. he enjoys taking long showers and eats quaker oats cap'n crunch's crunch berries for breakfast, even though it's bad for the environment and the cereal contains a horrific total of 42.3% sugar, and he doesn't even care.
failing one essay isn't going to make jongin fail the class, at least. the thing is, joonmyun has helped him with his part, like, a lot. it's not that jongin is stupid, he's just a freshman taking senior english. even if he desperately, desperately wished to, he wouldn't be able to write enough in such a short amount of time.
*
turns out he does, and when they meet joonmyun hugs him tighter than he ever remembers hugging anyone before.
"skipped dance practice. and then lots of coffee." jongin explains. "and my dad might have helped a little bit," he adds sheepishly. he blinks slowly, as if he's about to fall asleep. his clothes are in pretty much the same state as joonmyun's, sort of ruffled-looking.
"so, um. i know we're done with the project, but... do you want to have coffee, maybe? or hot chocolate, maybe? or coffee, you seem like the coffee type. so, yeah?" jongin asks, adding a little giggle that's half-nervous, half-exhausted.
and joonmyun looks at jongin. really, proper looks at him. his eyes are so earnest, and he's biting his bottom lip nervously, and he's so young, but oh, so wonderful, and hell, why not, joonmyun thinks.
what can he say? he's always enjoyed living on the edge.
a/n: it is 6 am and i am out but omg yeah hope u enjoyed. this. whatever it is