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todoroqis · 8 years

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Rule of Thirds

Title: Rule of Thirds

Rating: PG-13 Pairing: Jeongcheol Word Count: 4.9K Summary: Seungcheol is a photographer in quest of inspiration and Jeonghan meets him right where he needs him. a/n : SOOO... I’ve been writing this for over 6 months can you believe? Writer’s block is a bitch. @jiminsbootyshorts THANK YOU FOR BETA-READING THIS YOU’RE AN ANGEL !

Cross posted on AO3

What’s a picture without a story to tell? There’s only so many deserted train stations, unconventional buildings or busy subway stations in early mornings Seungcheol can capture and it’s all starting to look bland and boring. There’s nothing much he can do about it and it’s sad to say that his award winning career has only lasted for as long as four years.

Seungcheol dreams of rich burgundies and soft mint greens, of bewitching landscapes and still pictures so full of complex emotions yet so simple on the eye. Seungcheol doesn’t want to wake up and yet when he does, he’s back to the dull reality, to the vicious circle that is everyday life. He can’t really pinpoint whether it’s the blaring ringtone of his alarm clock or the icy early morning air that penetrates his thin duvet that makes him want to lie there and not do anything, just wait until he shrivels and dies of dehydration.

He’s at the train station today, hopeful he’ll find something that catches his eye, an epiphany or a revelation that will change the world of photography forever. It probably won’t be the case, though; he’ll go there, take hundreds of pictures, hate every single one of them, delete, go home then repeat. The only thing Seungcheol sees is a swarm of faceless bodies, walking around as fast as they possibly can, trying to catch the first train to wherever they have to go; so much movement, dynamic and life and any other photographer would be enchanted by the scenery, the only thing Seungcheol sees is a potential headache.

There’s a bunch of middle-schoolers running around, a stressed out businessman walking in circles while yelling at his phone and a high-strung city mom pulling her kindergartener son’s hand a little too hard and they’re all pushing Seungcheol back and forth against other strangers who do not seem very happy about the photographer being all up their personal space. He ends up doing more profuse apologizing than picture taking.

It gets kind of annoying after awhile, he’s sweating through his low-cut tank top, his bag is half open, documents, wallet, snacks and everything in between so close to collapsing and he’s sure he’s getting tan lines from the camera’s strap around his neck. Said camera, his pricy yet trustworthy Canon EOS 5DS, hasn’t captured anything remotely captivating in so long and Seungcheol decides to call it a day after 45 minutes of intensive glaring around. Delete, go home then repeat.

When Seungcheol thinks about it, nothing has really triggered his massive creative block. There has been no tragic backstory, no break-up, and no loss of a loved one… Nothing; just a blurry brain buzzing like a staticky TV monitor on a particularly rainy Sunday morning. Seungcheol thinks it would’ve been less painful, less poignant had there been a reason; it wouldn’t have meant that his career was just plain meaningless.

It dawned on him when he sat at his favorite coffeeshop, that day, looking out of the window, eyes completely unfocused. His coffee – black with no sugar and no creamer – was left forgotten on the table as Seungcheol daydreamed of utter nothingness. “The camera captures what the human eye sees;” Seungcheol only sees a blurry mash of industrial grey.

There's an empty seat by the railroad, and it's a real blessing given the fact that people usually fight for these types of spots. He guesses people didn't see it, too possessed by the demon of rush hour to be aware of it, rushing into trains, out of trains, pushing each other into a sort of human traffic jam that Seungcheol just doesn't understand. There's nothing appealing about the scenery; it's all just a major pain but Seungcheol sits there nonetheless, headphones on, plugged into his phone and playing music hard enough to cancel out any external noise. He's going through every single picture he's taken at least five times, trying to understand where the problem comes from; he has time, job offers have become scarce lately.

He's used fast shutter speed, capturing movement in different aperture levels, the focus was more than perfect, blurring the background in such an artistic way and yet, there's no story behind these still pictures, nothing that ties them together, nothing worthy of moving crowds and awing critics.

“Rush hour” is an overdone concept, appropriated by amateur college students on their first assignments. Seungcheol remembers taking trains aimlessly on his first year, eyes full of stars and passion taking over reason. Now that Seungcheol thinks about it, the pictures weren’t that great, his low-light shots were blurry and he’d cheat, using the automatic mode when picture didn’t come out as he wished, but his smile was there, and so was the excitement when he’d stop at completely random train stations, hours away from the capital, ready to explore whatever was behind the door.

When Seungcheol snaps back into present time, rush hour is over, the train station is almost deserted and the only people still standing are frustrated students who’ve missed the first train. Seungcheol sighs as he closes the lid of his camera, he has nothing to do here anymore, it’s time for him to go home and pursue the usual routine. Seungcheol likes routine, it’s comfortable and it never lets him down.

… Except for today... And it makes Seungcheol huff out loud. Of course someone has to take a seat near him, in the plastic chair situated right next to his, invading his private bubble and staring at him with big curious eyes. Out of all the empty seats, Seungcheol thinks. It’s suffocating, Seungcheol is uncomfortable and almost irritated and the stranger just wouldn’t stop staring.

“Neat camera!” The strangers finally speaks and Seungcheol wants to retort, ask him what would he know about cameras anyway? He wants to just stand up and leave but he turns around and faces the stranger. His determined eyes falter as he takes in the face of the beautiful stranger with the warm eyes and perfectly styled hair, kindly smiling at him. He’s beautiful, Seungcheol thinks, better looking than anyone he’s ever seen on the streets.

“It’s an EOS 5DS right? Nice pick, you’d need a fast shutter speed or a mirror lock up to get a good outcome from the sensor but other than that, it’s a trustworthy one you got there.” The stranger says. He sounds like knows what he’s saying, like he’s been there and done that and his eyes shift back into the overpriced camera around Seungcheol’s neck. “You’re a professional, right?”

Seungcheol laughs, bittersweet and borderline sad. “Yeah, I like to think I am, although I haven’t taken anything worthy of a professional photographer in a while.”

The stranger’s look switches away from the camera to take a good look at Seungcheol’s expression, eyes so focused on his face that Seungcheol can’t help but break the eye contact. There’s something about the man that’s so intense and yet so comforting and honest, it makes Seungcheol want to bask in his warmth, bundle up against him, spill out all of his problems and cry until no tear is left in his body. It’s exhilarating and downright terrifying.

“Creative block can be quite a bitch, huh?” The stranger sighs. There’s no sign of pity or sympathizing in his voice; it’s just a statement, the words of someone who’s been through the same rough path.

“Right.” Seungcheol answers. He isn’t using that condescending tone anymore. They’re both staring at whatever is in front of them, careful to not meet the other’s eyes. The stranger is grinning widely, Seungcheol can pretty much feel its warmth, and it makes the corners of his mouth curl up just a tad bit.

“My name is Yoon Jeonghan, by the way. I'm here because I missed my train… and the train after that.” He says, no hint of shame, embarrassment or regret in his words. “I'm pretty sure I'll get kicked by my client the second I step into the studio; if I ever get to work that is…”

“If?”

“I don't know... I like it here, I'm tempted to call in sick.” Jeonghan shrugs, eyes mischievous and a lopsided grin that would lure anyone into his trap, he’s playing with the zipper of his seemingly packed bag and Seungcheol wonders what’s in there. The photographer doesn't even want to go home anymore, his ass is burning from sitting too long on the hard plastic, his shirt is clinging onto his chest like a second skin and the camera strap feels heavy against his neck, but there's something about the beautiful Jeonghan that makes him want his company.

“Well, you're welcome to stay here and contemplate life with me on these amazingly dirty, uncomfortable plastic chairs!” He’s feeling bold, and it's a change in his routine, a much welcomed one. “I'm Choi Seungcheol, by the way.”

They end up leaving the station anyways in favor of a coffee shop. “There’s air conditioning and food. My treat!” Jeonghan says and there's no way Seungcheol can refuse free food. The atmosphere is light and filled with laughter as they stroll down the streets of the capital. Jeonghan is leading the conversation, talking about things as random as last night’s dinner, the pet shop near his house, the weather... It confuses Seungcheol why Jeonghan’s so dressed up, the sleeves of his button down are pulled up because of the heat and he’s uncomfortably pulling at the collar. The bag he’s carrying looks heavy as well and Seungcheol’s never been so curious about someone.

Seungcheol asks him when they're finally seated in the coffee shop and they're downing their iced coffees. “You look so uncomfortable, does your job require you to dress up on a daily?”

Jeonghan sighs, long and exasperated.

“Not all the time, no. Only when I’m meeting clients. I hate working for corporations, they’re too demanding and shut down every seemingly fun and creative idea, I have.” It’s funny coming from a man who dresses like a corporate heir, but what does Seungcheol know?

“Where do you work?” Seungcheol tries, testing the waters and his eyes are fixated on the way Jeonghan’s features soften and his smile is brighter than ever, on the way his eyes crinkle as if he’s about to go on a rant about his passion. Seungcheol’s always had a soft spot for passionate people.

“I’m a photographer as well! I mostly do fashion and advertising photography. ” Jeonghan replies. He takes out a camera from his bag; it’s a Mark III, Seungcheol notices, a gem handled with utter care and almost affection and Seungcheol can tell how much Jeonghan loves what he’s doing. He can’t help but feel amateurish when he looks at Jeonghan and it makes him want to hide. “I’ve actually made a lot of commercials, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me, especially since you’re a photographer yourself” Seungcheol is flabbergasted by Jeonghan’s bold statement and he’s wondering whether the man sitting in front of him is bragging but by the way his elbows are on the table and his chin against the back of his hands, eyebrows furrowed, he looks genuinely curious and Seungcheol’s more than ready to just melt into the decor and hide in embarrassment. He’s sitting with this good looking big shot photographer while he isn’t worth much himself.

“I’m … So sorry.” Is all he can say, eyes looking down at his big iced coffee that looks so interesting all of a sudden. Seungcheol’s never been a theoretical person and of all the photographers he’s studied in college, only Stephen Wilkes’ name remains in his memory. He expects Jeonghan to be offended, to frown and leave; even worse, leave and let a broke Seungcheol pay for the drinks but Jeonghan is genuinely laughing, head thrown back and lips stretched into a heart shape and Seungcheol swears he’s never seen a man so beautiful.

“There’s no need to be so embarrassed about it. If anything, I’m glad I’m talking to someone who sees me as myself, not as some kind of deity.” And talk he did. Seungcheol learns that Jeonghan is the mastermind behind big brands ads, that he works mostly freelance and that he is self taught. It puts Seungcheol, who’s taken intensive classes for four years, to shame.

“I actually went to college for mechanical engineering, can you believe that? I hated every second of it, everyone was so focused on themselves and no one actually took time to interact outside of school. It was horrible, so naturally, I dropped out of college. Haven’t talked to my parents since then but I guess passion makes up for it?”

It’s as if Jeonghan’s asking a rhetorical question. He doesn’t seem bothered about being in bad terms with his parents and Seungcheol wishes he could be as carefree as the man in front of him. He decides to talk about his college experience too, about his photography assignments, his trips to random places to take pictures. He talks about his only award winning portfolio and abundance of job offers. It brings him back; Jeonghan takes in all of his words, marvelling at what used to be a wanderlust filled life, since Jeonghan’s job mostly requires him to be in studios and Seungcheol can see the sadness in his eyes when he hears about the other’s lack of motivation and the way his life completely took a turn for the worst.

By the time they leave the coffee shop, it’s already early afternoon, Seungcheol is beaming after he sees Jeonghan off, -not without exchanging numbers. For the first time, he goes back home feeling accomplished and joyful, a feeling he hasn’t had in a while and for the first time, the white walls of his apartment, the lonely dirty coffee cup in the sink, the dirty laundry don’t really seem to bother him at all.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me today, Seungcheol!” Jeonghan dramatically exclaims into Seungcheol’s speaker. Seungcheol’s smiles grow wide as he hums into his phone, waiting for Jeonghan’s daily rant. They’ve been doing that a lot recently, call each other at ridiculous hours and talk about random things. It makes Seungcheol happy, he’s beaming most of the time, his house doesn’t seem as bleak and lifeless when Jeonghan’s laughing out loud on the phone, filling his living room with colors he has never noticed before.

“I’m pretty sure the world hates me today! I missed my train and stood there waiting in the rain. My client had the guts to yell at me, uhm hello I’m not your corporate employee, you can’t just take out your pent up frustration on me. Don’t you hate it when that happens? My presence itself is a blessing to your company.”

Seungcheol’s laugh is reverberating across the living room. He can vividly imagine Jeonghan huffing and puffing wherever he is right now, he wants to see him, shoulders slumped, pouting as he spills the monologue. Seungcheol can’t really relate since he hasn’t worked with companies before but he sympathizes anyways, trying to reassure Jeonghan in the best possible way.

“There, there. They will come around, eventually.” He isn’t very sure, he doesn’t really know much about the whole corporate system.

“You’re really bad at this, Seungcheol…” Jeonghan complains, voice slightly high pitched and he stresses on the ‘Seungcheol’, and it makes the older’s heart jump. He’s pretty sure it’s unhealthy and Jeonghan will be the reason for his death.

They fall into a comfortable silence, Jeonghan is humming into the phone and Seungcheol is sprawled out in his couch, mindlessly listening to Jeonghan’s half assed singing. It feels great, as if Jeonghan was there by his side, as if they’d known each other forever, as if Seungcheol’s never ever felt lonely.

“How was your day, Seungcheol?” Jeonghan suddenly breaks the silence, his tone is wary and cautious, completely aware that it is quite a sensitive topic. Seungcheol wants to tell him that it isn’t, that it’s okay to let his guards down when talking to him, but they haven’t known each other for longer than a month after all, no matter what Seungcheol feels.

“Old same, old same.” Seungcheol sighs. He didn’t take his camera with him this day, opting for a more traditional approach to trying to find inspiration. He’s walked miles, hands deep into his pockets and eyes on the lookout for anything worth his time, a new perspective, interesting textures, landscapes, facial expressions, anything….

“I sometimes feel like I should just quit and go get myself another job.”

“Seungcheol…”

“What’s there for me anyways. Who tells me people will even look at my portfolio after that, I’m not like you, Jeonghan. Have you seen me? I have no charisma, I can’t say one sentence without stumbling over my words. The whole fresh out of college with professors’ recommendation won’t work anymore…”

By the small “ah” that Seungcheol hears on the phone, Jeonghan doesn’t really seem all that convinced. He hears a small sigh and he knows Jeonghan’s looking for the right thing to say. It’s overwhelming and he doesn’t hesitate to make up a whole bunch of excuses on why he needs to go and that he’ll talk to him later. He knows Jeonghan will call him anyways, he always does.

Jeonghan always calls, he always text, documenting every single aspect of his life and Seungcheol is overjoyed when he wakes up to pictures of Taco, Jeonghan’s cat, his failed attempt at breakfast, early morning skies or things as random as tree leaves or one quarter of his nephew, Chan’s grumpy morning face.

Seungcheol’s gotten used to waking up to Jeonghan’s texts. They’re usually either about Jeonghan not wanting to leave his bed, - Seungcheol relates -, Taco’s early morning mischieves or insane ideas that make Seungcheol believe that Jeonghan hasn’t gotten a grip on adulthood just yet. It’s the latter today and Seungcheol isn’t awakened by one but a multitude of texts sent one after the other.

At this point, Seungcheol is half laughing and half crying, mourning what could’ve been the most peaceful and cozy morning he’s had in awhile. His phone on his bedside table seems too far away and the stretch of his arm is almost painful. He hopes it’s an emergency this time, a text worth waking up to.

from : Jeonghan; 7.26 a.m. Do you think it’s socially acceptable to order pizza for breakfast?

from : Jeonghan; 7.27 a.m. And Coke.

from : Jeonghan; 7.27 a.m. Pizza and coke really sound like a good idea…

from : Jeonghan; 7.28 a.m. So apparently pizza places don’t open at 7:30 a.m. It’s an abomination.

It isn’t. It is most definitely not worth waking up to and Seungcheol makes a memo at the back of his mind to put his phone on silent before sleep starting today.

To: Jeonghan; 7.32 a.m. omg Jeonghan make yourself some coffee like the rest of the world.

He angrily types away. The reply comes faster than it takes Seungcheol to put his phone back on the table and go back to sleep.

from: Jeonghan; 7.32 a.m. I’m not a chef, Seungcheol.

If there’s one thing that Seungcheol’s most definitely learned in the few weeks he’s known Jeonghan for, it’s that Jeonghan needs to stay away from kitchens. It’s endearing to say the least, and he’s glad he’s able to see past Jeonghan’s intimidatingly perfect physical appearance.

The first time Seungcheol visits Jeonghan’s studio, he feels like a freshman again. He’s mesmerized by everything, wants to touch everything, wants to know how everything works and it’s probably annoying to Jeonghan, but when Seungcheol turns around to see Jeonghan fondly smiling at his childlike curiosity, he doesn’t care about the rest anymore. All he sees are the little crinkles at the outer corners of Jeonghan’s eyes when the man laughs, the way his hand subconsciously moves to dishevel his previously perfectly styled hair, the tongue that darts out to lick at his seemingly dry lips and everything in between.

“So… That’s where I work. I take it you like the place?” Jeonghan asks and he almost looks proud. It’s not hard to see why Jeonghan takes so much pride in his workplace, it makes Seungcheol feel out of place. He nods, though, because who is he kidding? He loves everything about the studio, from the equipment there to the man who owns the place.

“It’s incredible, Jeonghan.” He assures. “Goddammit, I feel so underqualified, now.” Seungcheol groans and it takes him a split second to regret and wish he hasn’t said it out loud. Jeonghan’s gone from adjusting his camera’s settings to looking at him with a pained expression. He knows Jeonghan doesn’t like to hear him wallow in self pity, but there’s nothing but truth in his words.

“Don’t say that, Seungcheol. If there’s anything you’re not, it’s underqualified.” Jeonghan sighs. He’s said it many times before, Seungcheol’s heard it more than once.

“C’mon. I’ve seen your portfolio before. You’re incredible.” Jeonghan points out. And yes, Seungcheol’s showed Jeonghan his portfolio, not sans a lot of whining coming from the younger. Jeonghan had looked quite impressed with Seungcheol’s work and the latter couldn’t say he wasn’t feeling proud and boastful that someone as influential as Jeonghan was appreciating his work. It felt like one of the biggest seals of approval and yet, the seal was on his previous work.

“Whatever…”

Seungcheol looks down, almost ashamed of his childish behavior. He's supposed to be enjoying his day and yet, he's ruining it for both himself and Jeonghan. The latter is back to fixing the settings of his camera, single handedly handling the device while his other hand is carrying a tripod. His eyes are narrowed in focus, that tongue that drives Seungcheol crazy is darting out again and he wonders if there are any instances in which Jeonghan isn't looking beautiful.

His hand is reaching out for his camera, he doesn't realize it, too busy remembering each and everyone of Jeonghan’s features. It happens like a flash and the sound of the picture being taken is what wakes Seungcheol up. He's just taken a picture of Jeonghan and it feels good. Taking a picture’s never felt so good and yet when Jeonghan turns around to take a look at him, the realization just falls on him like meteor. He's in love. He's never been so in love before and it probably creeped Jeonghan out. Who would take someone else's picture so suddenly.

“Seungcheol?”

“Oh my god I'm so sorry…. I have to go.” And before Jeonghan says anything, Seungcheol had long left the studio.

It’s the tenth call from Jeonghan he’s avoided. Seungcheol can’t take it and every time he hears the generic ringtone playing, he feels like he’s slowing going crazier and crazier. He’s sitting on his living room’s floor, camera in hand and he can’t take his eyes out of the picture. It’s beautiful; Seungcheol doesn’t know if it’s because of his skill or because Jeonghan looks beautiful no matter what.

He knew he was attracted to Jeonghan, but again, who wasn’t? He’s been nothing but a delight in the three months they’ve known each other and in Seungcheol’s mind, it was only natural he'd appreciate the man in return. Yet, the adrenaline rush he felt when the focus was set and the shutter release was pushed was like no other. He's taken many pictures of incredible sights before, the excitement pooling down his veins but nothing compared the Jeonghan’s reflection on his little camera monitor.

Seungcheol loves Jeonghan, it's a fact now. He loves a man that’s way out of his league, a man that could get himself anyone, a man that doesn't need a sore loser like him. It’s ridiculous, Seungcheol thinks, he’s free willingly throwing himself into this dark hole he can’t escape and the image on the screen monitor is a concrete proof. At this point, Seungcheol considers moving into another town, possibly another country. It would help to change his name, his identity and maybe grow a mustache for maximum anonymity.

He drops his camera to the ground, right between his crossed legs and lets out a long sigh he didn’t know he was holding. His eyes are closed, mind full of unwanted thoughts and he doesn’t know how long it is before he hears the loud knocks on his door. They’re relentless and persistent and Seungcheol is sure that a very angry Jeonghan is the one behind the incessant noise.

He stands up slowly and he’s reluctant to open when he nears the door. What is going to say? There’s no way for him to deny what happened back in the studio, or find a rational explanation other than “you’re beautiful and I’m madly in love with you.” He stands there, facing his front door while listening to Jeonghan’s livid threats of clawing his eyes out if he doesn’t open the door. He finally caves in and opens the door as Jeonghan is yelling “I can hear you’re inside, you fucker!” Jeonghan rarely ever curses but the man in front of him is very much ready to not only curse but also probably throw in some punches too. His hair is disheveled and his glares could burn holes into Seungcheol’s skin.

“Hi…?” Seungcheol’s words are tentative. He knows Jeonghan isn’t here for friendly conversation and it shows by the way the younger pushes Seungcheol inside, fingers painfully digging into his shoulderblades. Jeonghan closes the door with a push of his foot and the bang resonates into Seungcheol’s head.

“What the fuck?” Is all Jeonghan says and he’s standing there, in the middle of his shabby living room, arms crossed and waiting for Seungcheol to say something.

“I’m… I’m so sorry for what happened in the stu-...”

“No ! No, don’t give me that bullshit.” Jeonghan cuts him and he’s ready to go into a passionate monologue. “Nothing happened there. You just decided to make up a whole scene out of it. You took a picture of me; oh wow, fucking tragic.”

Seungcheol is astounded by Jeonghan’s words, more by the colorful vocabulary than the fact that Jeonghan didn’t really mind Seungcheol snapping a picture.

“You just ran away and left me there alone and fucking confused. I texted you, I tried to call you. But you just decide to ignore me altogether, to hide inside your house and to lament yourself for days.”

The silence is heavy when Jeonghan finally stops talking. He’s patiently waiting for Seungcheol to speak, say something, anything. He finally seems to be calming down with every breath he’s taking and Seungcheol believes he’s been holding those words for a while now.

“Listen. I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I just… I freaked out, okay?” Seungcheol starts. He drops his gaze to the floor when Jeonghan cocks his eyebrow, obviously unsatisfied with Seungcheol’s vague response.

“And?”

“And what? I just didn’t know what to do. I thought you believed I was a freak because who the fuck just impulsively snaps a picture of someone?”

“I thought it was flattering.” Jeonghan says in the softest of voices. “It’s a change from being the one behind the camera.” It makes Seungcheol’s jaw drop.

“Oh…I’m sorry then.” It burns. He wants to say it and finally relieve that ache in his chest. He’s encouraged by Jeonghan’s tone and expectant looks, as if the younger is waiting for Seungcheol to finally confess and move on with it.

“Ok, here. I’m gonna say it.” He blurts out and it doesn’t really seem to take Jeonghan by surprise at all. He’s just standing there, arms still crossed, eyes fixed on Seungcheol and it drives the latter crazy. “I like you, okay? I really really like you, Jeonghan.”

“Finally !”

“What?”

“Well… I can’t say I wasn’t waiting for you to finally get on with it and finally ask me out. You’re really dense aren’t you? I like you too but it seems as if you don’t understand it when other people flirt with you.”

“O-oh…”

“Look at the camera.” Seungcheol says, kneeling on the ground, trying to capture the moment as fast as possible. Jeonghan is laughing, sitting on a bench at the park, legs crossed and his ice cream is melting all over his hands. He looks beautiful, Seungcheol thinks as he presses the shutter release for the fiftieth time today.

“Aren’t you inspired today?” Jeonghan chuckles. He’s trying his best to wipe his fingers clean and it’s adorable how much of a messy eater Jeonghan is.

“How could I not be inspired when I’m dating such a beautiful prince?” Seungcheol boasts standing up from the ground to plant a kiss on Jeonghan’s cringing face.

“You’re too fucking cheesy.” Seungcheol knows Jeonghan loves it when he’s sappy and corny anyway, so he doesn’t mind the younger’s complaints, especially when Jeonghan’s eagerly kissing him back.

“And you taste like cookies and cream. That flavor is a disgrace to ice cream.” Seungcheol mumbles and he’s playfully pushed back by a half laughing, half offended Jeonghan. They still stroll down the city streets holding hands, even though Jeonghan is still feigning offense and looking out to his side, mumbling about how Seungcheol is always insulting his taste in food and how his ‘bland and boring ass’ wouldn’t understand the joys of cookies and cream anyway.

His career may not be completely restored to its previous glory, but he’s working on it and he’s much happier that way anyway.

#jeongcheol #jungcheol #jeonghan #scoups #seungcheol #writings #seventeen #svt #jeonghan curses in this #also the last 1000 words aren't proof read at all i digress #I haven't posted a freshly written fic in so long #feels gooooddddd #but also nervewracking #I'M SORRY THIS IS QUITE THE MESS

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todoroqis · 8 years

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Rating: pg-13 Pairing: Jungcheol / Meanie+Woozi Genre: fluffy af Word Count: 2k Summary: Jeonghan narrates stories of all the people on bus 34, except for one.

a/n: Bringing this back bcs it’s the only fic i’m proud of posting online so bear with me... I promise I do have stuff coming up. I just need to be done with midterms ! Also gave this a little ending bcs it seemed quite... incomplete.

The bus is not as crowded as usual, Junghan notices - seating himself on his usual place, a forgotten corner at the very back, right by the window. Nobody notices him, but he notices everyone. He loves it - looking at people and imagining their stories through their moods, facial expressions and body language. He sometimes catches glimpses of conversations; it’s not his purpose to spy on people, but he can’t help but narrate the imagined stories in his little notebook, the one he carries everywhere he goes. He talks about the old lady at the very front with her cat and the sweet young girl who helps her to carry her groceries all the way to her front door. He also loved to write the story of the guy with the tattoos who stops by the animal shelter every morning. Lately, he’s been focusing on the couple sitting two rows in front of him, two model-like guys, tall, dark and handsome that get on two stops after Junghan. They’re always holding hands and smiling at each other like two lovers on their first date, and yet, it’s been a year. It’s a fantasy of Junghan’s to have someone look at him and only him the way these two look at each other. Recently, though, there’s something that troubles the flow of Junghan’s story - a small storm that’s impersonated by someone just as small, pink hair, a pair of headphones and a laptop; a focused expression that left the two lovers mesmerized. The smaller boy is working on a music software that Junghan doesn’t quite know the name of, and the entire process seems complicated. Even so it doesn’t phase the two lovers who follow each move of his, each change in facial expression, from frustration, to the small smile that appears on his face when things seem to be going the way he wants them to. Junghan records everything on his notebook, not omitting the small doodle of three cartooned bodies, totally into each other. The dynamics haven’t changed although a couple weeks have passed by, and Junghan is very tempted to shake things up, but he doesn’t want to play God - it’s one of his rules, to let things flow the way they should. He just sighs as he records the same events over and over again. There’s a new person on the bus today, who decides to sit right by his side. He’s wearing shades over his eyes and is mumbling the lyrics of a song that Junghan’s heard on the radio before. He’s too close, and it would be weird to write about someone who could read everything from where he’s seated; plus he hasn’t finished the story of the three at the front. The newcomer smiles at him as he sits down, placing his backpack on his lap and taking out a few books. Junghan does return the smile naturally and he’s about to return to his storytelling but the weight of the eyes on him is too heavy. Although his seatmate is wearing shades, it’s kind of obvious that he’s been staring at his hair for way too long. “Are you… alright?” Junghan asks. He’s confused, no one’s never seemed to care for him before (and he’s been taking this bus since he started college two years ago) but the other’s stare is so persistent and his mouth is parted, “o” shaped and he overall seems amazed. “You have really soft looking hair, can I touch it?” It takes Junghan by surprise, how straight forward the other is, but he nods nonetheless, tilting his head to let the other touch his hair (he’s always been quite proud of how soft and silky his hair was) “So pretty…” his seatmate murmurs, almost to himself, and Junghan feels like digging a hole and hiding in it for the rest of the trip. The other doesn’t linger, and smiles at him again before going back to his books. Junghan can’t seem to go back to his storytelling.

His seatmate’s name is Seungcheol, Junghan learns three days after their initial encounter, he’s a transfer student who moved nearby recently. Junghan also learns that Seungcheol is quite talkative, a great conversationalist with a devastating sense of humor. Junghan comes to realize that he hasn’t touched his notebook in three days, too caught up in Seungcheol’s random stories. He doesn’t talk much - he doesn’t really need to. He has nothing to say and his seatmate does all the talking anyways. Seungcheol tells him about his previous university, his old friends, about how they used to play hide and seek every Friday night all over campus. He talks to him about his previous achievements and misfortunes, about how he couldn’t handle the dining hall’s food, and it amazes Junghan how Seungcheol makes it all about himself, without once running out of stories. Two weeks later, Seungcheol asks Junghan about him and Junghan doesn’t really know what to say. He smiles and shrugs, looking down at his lap where his hands were closed into two tight fists. “I really don’t have anything to talk about.” “Then what do you write about in that notebook of yours?” Seungcheol points at Junghan’s bag that’s once again, for the second consecutive week, sealed. Junghan’s never thought anybody noticed it, it’s a small book that’s not bigger than Junghan’s hand and it usually always went unnoticed - but Seungcheol noticed. Seungcheol always seems to notice just the smallest thing and Junghan’s just a little jealous. “I’ll tell you another day.” It’s their stop, and as Junghan gets down, he’s again, shaken up by their conversation. His legs are wobbly and he has a lot to think about. The day that Seungcheol doesn’t get on the bus Junghan is surprised, but also somehow disappointed. He sits on the usual corner and makes sure to place his bag on Seungcheol’s seat. He doesn’t know the reason for that choice and no one would mourn that seat, as the bus is empty enough. Junghan doesn’t really feel like taking out his notebook even though it’s been weeks. He simply decides to narrate with his eyes. He notices that the love triangle has merged and the pink haired boy shed his laptop in favor of sitting by one of them while the second boy sits in front of them, turned around to carry on a conversation. It’s crazy how much Junghan missed, but somehow, he doesn’t quite feel bad about it. Meeting Seungcheol was worth everything he’s missed, and it felt almost empty without him by his side, cracking the usual cheesy joke or playing with Junghan’s hair. He almost wishes he had harbored the courage to ask the other for his phone number, his kakaotalk username, anything really… (but who was he fooling, he couldn’t tell Seungcheol anything about him besides the basic information.) Junghan is more than thrilled the following day, and the second he sees the familiar face, he has to fight the urge to go hug the older. Seungcheol doesn’t hide his excitement as he rushes to sit next to Junghan, a huge grin plastered over his face. “I’d give you a hug but I’m still ill and I wouldn’t want to contaminate you !” he beams, and he looks so bright for someone who was sick the previous day. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that…” Junghan returns the smile and he’s half expecting Seungcheol to talk about his day inside for the entire ride, but to Junghan’s surprise, he doesn’t. He instead, points at Junghan’s bag again. “You still didn’t tell me what’s in that mystery notebook of yours.” Junghan doesn’t really know how to tackle that. He doesn’t quite want to open the notebook in front of Seungcheol - he’s too self-conscious about his writing so he just points at the people at the very front. “This little girl takes this bus every morning. She’s always crying on her way. Lately she’s sporting scars and she’s obviously been beaten up.” Seungcheol does look a little confused. He probably doesn’t know how that has anything to do with the notebook, but he still listens carefully. “This old lady has been taking this bus for as far as I remember.” Junghan points and the woman behind the little girl. “She goes to the local market every morning and takes her groceries back home. She can’t really carry them herself, but last year, she met this girl who now helps her carry the groceries all the way to her door. She has her 8 a.m class with me and she’s always late for that reason.” Junghan narrates the story of each and every one, leaving Seungcheol in awe. “So yeah, this is what I talk about in my notebook.” Junghan chuckles at the little “wow” Seungcheol lets out, he’s looking at each passenger, a smile on his face, and Junghan is happy he’s left that impression. “What about you? How was your day inside?” The following day is no different than the others, Junghan is sitting on his seat, waiting for Seungcheol. The pink haired boy is sleeping, head rested on the tallest boy’s shoulder while the other is affectionately petting his cotton candy colored hair. They look cute and in love and Junghan is totally jealous. He’s about to take out his earphones when the bus stops. It’s Seungcheol’s stop and Junghan is already closing his bag, waiting for his bus-mate to tell him about something silly. Except it doesn’t happen. Seungcheol moves two seats away from Junghan, puts on his headphones and takes out a notebook. It’s oddly similar to Junghan’s, a palm sized book with a pen hooked to the spirals. He doesn’t talk to him. He barely smiles and writes. He writes for the entire duration of the trip, looks up at Junghan, then back down at his notebook. It’s the first time Junghan sees Seungcheol so focused and he’s disappointed in the lack of contact. The routine carries on for days, that change into weeks and soon enough, Junghan just moves on and doesn’t expect much from Seungcheol anymore. The entire trip consists in Junghan watching the city by the window, earphones plugged into his ears, and Seungcheol writing. Junghan is about to get off the bus when Seungcheol catches him by the hand. He looks apologetic and he’s carrying that damn notebook again. “I’m sorry, I’ve been working on something.” He promptly shoves the notebook into Junghan’s bag and leaves. - “I really have no idea of what to write. Goddammit, I’m an engineering major and I passed my English composition class with a C-. What wouldn’t I do for you Yoon Junghan?” The first page says. Junghan is sitting in his Creative writing class, notebook on the table. It’s quite confusing, but he turns the page nonetheless. “I’ve been sitting next to a boy with the most gorgeous hair and face. He always looks so peaceful and focused and it’s probably the reason why I was drawn to him on the first day. This boy write the stories of the people on the bus. His writing is amazing and his sense of observation is just… crazy. I thought he’d have a lot to say about himself but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know how amazing he is. He’s written the stories of hundreds of people but has omitted one. One I’ll be writing on this notebook.” Junghan can’t believe it. Seungcheol is writing about him. He’s talking about how he hums and taps his foot to the music when he’s looking out at the window, about how that strand of hair is too much of a disturbance for him, but he finds it adorable. He writes about the way Junghan smiles with his eyes, about how expressive he is. He writes about so many things Junghan hasn’t noticed about himself and he’s probably on the verge of tearing up. Junghan doesn’t stop until he’s already reached the last page, and he’s longing for more. Sure his writing is average, but it’s obvious that he’s put so much feelings into this. Now Junghan can’t help but fall more and more for the weird boy with the shades, the loud music coming out of his headphones and the habit to talk a little too much. “I know this is stupid, that we’ve only talked for 15 minutes a day but I can’t help but fall for you. Would you go out with me?”

The bus is not as crowded as usual, Junghan notices - seating himself on his usual place, a forgotten corner at the very back, right by the window. He doesn't mind, though. He likes the quietude of the 7 a.m. lack of traffic, the soft roar of the heavy engine as it rides around the city, the chitter chatter of the passengers and more than anything, he loves the sound of Seungcheol's soft snores as the latter peacefully sleeps on Junghan's shoulder. Seungcheol's hand is tightly gripping his, breath tickling Junghan's neck and the proximity of their two bodies still mesmerizes Junghan to this day. It's a given that Seungcheol knows nothing of the notion of personal space, but it took Junghan more than a while to get used to this type of contact and fully bask in the warmth of the older. Junghan's free hand is on Seungcheol's hair, almost instinctively playing with the strands of black; he knows it helps Seungcheol sleep better. It's insane how much he's grown to know about Seungcheol in such a short period of time, from the fact that he claws at his own palms when he's nervous to his preference in coffee and weird sleeping habits. It's become almost innate, and as Junghan opens up, he gets to not only learn about his two months long boyfriend, but also about himself.

#jeongcheol #jungcheol #jeongcoups #jeonghan #scoups #seungcheol #seventeen #writings #mingyu #wonwoo #jihoon #woozi #meanie #oh boy i loved writing this so so soooo much #so there you have it for people on Twitter who want me to bring it back

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