SH 2015: Suho, no swiping! (for EVERYONE)

[suholiday]

For: All the Suhomies
From: ANONYMOUS until May 22, 2015

Title: Suho, no swiping!
Rating: NC-17 for masturbation and mentions of sex
Pairing(s)/Focus: Suho/Chen, side Xiumin/Luhan, side Sehun/Kai
Length: 11,855 words
Summary: Tinder!AU. Kim Joonmyun is very handsome, gay and single. Sehun’s out to fix it. “I mean, what kind of guy reads Cosmo and isn’t even slightly homo?”
Warning/s: gratuitous use of homosexual tropes

Notes: in the midst of writing all of this I felt like I lost not only my control, but the entire wheel too… I stole the above quote from my friend and bonus +5000 points if you can guess where I stole the title from. I also don’t read Cosmopolitan I only know it’s a women’s adult magazine lmaoooo

“A-ha!” Sehun slams a heavy shoebox onto the kitchen counter, startling Joonmyun at the stove and making him jump a foot into the air with a fry pan of eggs. Joonmyun whips around to see his younger brother wearing a giant shit-eating grin and he wonders what in the name of all things holy Sehun’s found this time. He spies the black box sitting on the countertop and the colour immediately drains from his face as he drops his spatula, his feet frozen to the floor. “Hyung, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were gay too,” Sehun yells at him. “I knew it! Why didn’t you tell me?” Joonmyun has half a mind to make him shut up before he wakes their parents, but then he remembers they’re off vacationing on some island and aren’t back for another few weeks at least. “I – give me that–” Joonmyun lunges for the shoebox but he misses when Sehun snatches it up and gleefully rips the lid off to look at its contents. There’s a giant stack of glossy Cosmopolitan Korea magazines in there, at least a year’s worth of issues if not more. “Why were you snooping in my room again?” “You’re not denying it!” Sehun yells again, clutching his stomach as he doubles over with laughter. When he finally straightens up, there are tears in his eyes. “So my gaydar was right. But seriously though, you could’ve hidden these somewhere other than under your bed.” He dodges a second lunge from a flustered Joonmyun and picks up the topmost edition of Cosmo from the box, reading aloud snippets from the cover. “Get updated with the latest spring fashion. How to make him to take you to O-town – oh jesus. Man of the Month… Wu Yifan?” Sehun gasps. He stares at his older brother. Joonmyun can’t tell if Sehun’s amazed, offended or weirded out. He can’t even get his box of magazines back because Sehun’s the height of the Eiffel Tower and Joonmyun’s not sure if he can reach that far up. He just stands there and fumes with his arms crossed. “Is he your type?” Sehun continues, flapping the issue of Cosmopolitan around. “Did you buy this issue for the four-page spread of him?” “I did not,” Joonmyun forces out through gritted teeth. He retrieves his spatula and points angrily at the kitchen bench with it. “Put that down. Stop coming into my room and touching my things. Go – go and get ready for school, for god’s sake, and leave me alone or I can’t make you breakfast.” “Sure thing.” Sehun plops the shoebox down and skips out of the kitchen (he’s not running any risks if the food’s at stake), presumably to go and be gross with Jongin. There are supposed to be rules in place when their parents aren’t home, but Sehun tends to ignore them all (see: venturing into other people’s rooms, and allowing boyfriends to stay over) and it’s not like he listens to Joonmyun anyway. Joonmyun groans in exasperation. Cursing shitty little brothers, he puts a now-burnt egg onto Sehun’s plate and cracks a fresh one onto the pan. That’ll teach him. There wasn’t anything wrong with being gay. He just wasn’t in the mindset to come out yet. And, secretly, he thinks he might like being on the bottom side of things a little bit too much. But just a little bit. He’s perfectly happy with his Cosmo magazines and their four-page spreads and bonus posters of his favourite actor Do Kyungsoo (even though he can’t hang them up on the wall) and he’s fapped to the photo of the co-editor Baekhyun’s face at least once. Life is hard and Cosmopolitan Korea may have made it worse, but at least Sehun hasn’t found Joonmyun’s hidden stash of eyeliner and BB creams. “Hyung, I love you so much,” Sehun sniffs dramatically, sitting down at the table and dribbling over the giant bowls of noodles Joonmyun’s made for afternoon tea. He pulls Jongin into the seat next to him. “You’re only saying that because I made you food,” Joonmyun sighs from the kitchen sink. Jongin, the good kid he is, has the decency to be polite and thank him for the meal. Joonmyun’s long given up on trying to keep Jongin out of the house since Sehun basically drags him back after school every day. They’re cute together though, like when they sit at Sehun’s desk to do homework or when they’re cuddling on the beanbag like the icky lovesick high school teenagers they are. Joonmyun’s not jealous. Just like how pigs can fly. “This is good,” Sehun exclaims, chewing with his mouth open. A stray noodle goes flying across the table and Joonmyun cringes at the sight of it. Normally it’s up to Sehun to make himself food after school but Joonmyun’s been tasked with house-sitting while their parents are away. He didn’t really have anything to do until his shift at work that afternoon so he figured he might as well feed the bottomless pit that was Sehun before the idiot accidentally gave himself food poisoning. Nobody’s mentioned the incident from this morning yet but Sehun’s probably already told Jongin five hundred times over the course of the day. “Promise me you’ll wash your dishes,” is all Joonmyun says, and Sehun responds with a grunt that means his older brother’s more than likely going to come home that night to a stack of bowls in the sink. “I have to go to work in like… ah, shit…” A glance at the clock tells him he has just over fifteen minutes to make himself presentable and make it down to work before his dragon lady manager skins him alive for being late. Joonmyun yanks out the sink plug and races to his room to get changed into his uniform. It’s ugly and generic, but it’s not like he was expecting much more for a sucky high school graduate with a job in the produce section of a supermarket, stacking tomatoes and filling up the potatoes bin and bagging carrots all day. He drags a comb through his hair, snatches his keys off the dresser and dashes out of the house. “Hyung, don’t forget your–” Sehun’s voice calls out after him. The front door slams shut. “…Phone?” The cellular device blinks lazily by the wall, plugged in and charging. “Will he need it?” Jongin asks worriedly. Sometimes his saneness is the only thing that keeps Sehun from doing stupid shit all the time. “Should we walk down later and give it to him?” Sehun shakes his head, broth from his noodles splattering the table. “Nah, he only uses it to tell me to take in the washing anyway.” He munches through his noodles, seemingly lost in thought before he swallows and suddenly thumps a fist on the dining table. “Jongin.” “What?” Jongin pops a piece of meat in his mouth. He’s not ready for the intense gaze Sehun fixes on him when they meet each other’s eyes. It’s not good. “We should totally hook him up.” Jongin wrinkles his nose. “Sehun, no. I’m not sure he’s going to appreciate–” “Of course he will! I wish you’d seen his face this morning after I showed him all the Cosmopolitan mags I found under his bed – I mean, what kind of guy reads Cosmo and isn’t even slightly homo? I bet he still thinks I don’t know about the eyeliner in his drawer.” To be fair, Jongin’s been a little skeptical of the whole thing. Reading women’s magazines don’t make someone gay and to be honest, he thinks Joonmyun would be pretty hot with eyeliner. But by the sounds of Sehun’s regal story-telling of his discoveries that morning, Joonmyun had just kinda accepted it so it must be true if not anything else. “I had so many suspicions for so long,” Sehun continues. He raises his bowl to his lips and slurps down the last of the broth. “He always spends so much time on his face every day–” “And you don’t?” Jongin points out. “My face is fine, and here you are, still dating me. Also, I went through those mags and it looks like he bought all the issues with Yifan and that Park Chanyeol model guy in them, even Huang Zitao – although Zitao’s fucking hot so hyung’s got some pretty good taste – but like, what do these guys have in common?” “I don’t know, girls like them?” Jongin hasn’t got the faintest idea who half of them even are save for Zitao, because a while ago Sehun had this really bad crush on the celebrity fitness trainer and wouldn’t stop talking about him. Jongin shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe that’s his type,” he suggests, “but I think you’re just grasping at straws here. Hey, what are you doing?” Sehun unplugs Joonmyun’s phone from its charger and turns it on. He enters the four-digit passcode (Joonmyun really needs to start picking numbers that aren’t his birth year) and it unlocks itself. “Watch this,” Sehun says smugly. He ignores Jongin’s long-suffering groan of defeat and heads straight to the app store, and after a quick search, downloads Tinder. “Why is this on my phone?” Joonmyun gives his brother the most unimpressed look he can manage, jabbing a finger at the Tinder icon on the screen. Work was crap, there had been a crate of mouldy oranges and someone had knocked all the onions onto the floor, and now he comes home to find Sehun’s gone and invaded his privacy again. He doesn’t even bother asking how Sehun got through his very tricky passcode. “Just go on it,” Sehun insists, turning around from the Thursday night action movie on the TV. Jongin’s curled up against him, head pillowed in Sehun’s lap. “I’m trying to do you a favour, hyung. It’s really easy; all you do is swipe the guy’s picture to the left if you don’t like him, or swipe to the right if you do. Tap on his photo to stalk him. I even made you a profile and wrote you a description and put photos in for you. Have you ever seen so much kindness from me? ” Uh. “I have no words to say to you,” Joonmyun says in utter disbelief. “Just a thank you will do,” Sehun replies, attention returning back to the TV as he absentmindedly runs his fingers through Jongin’s hair. Jongin smiles up at him. “I’m going to shower,” Joonmyun says weakly, shoving his phone back into his pocket and retreating from the lounge. After that he’s going to see what kind of havoc Sehun’s wreaked with this app before he deletes it from his existence forever. “By the way, I swiped right on some guys that I thought you might like,” Sehun adds, just before his brother goes out of earshot. Joonmyun makes sure to slam his bedroom door extra hard. Dear god, why. Freshly showered and snuggled up in his pajamas in bed, Joonmyun checks his phone before he goes to sleep. The bright light floods the dark room and Joonmyun opens the Tinder app. The home page comes up and a profile appears on the screen – a photo of five guys on a stage, decked out in shiny outfits and half of them toting a musical instrument. Minho, 23, it reads underneath the picture. Joonmyun squints at it. Which one of these guys is supposed to be Minho? There’s also a zero beside a little people icon and a one beside a little book icon. Did this guy have no friends and he’s only read one book? This app is silly. Joonmyun’s finger hovers over the screen, trying to remember which way around he’s supposed to swipe to say he doesn’t like Minho. He almost half-expects Sehun to pop out from under his bed and stage-whisper the answer. He gives swiping left a try, and a bold NOPE appears over Minho’s picture before it disappears and there’s a new photo of someone else. He’s doing it. Joonmyun spends some time poking around and tapping various things and swiping left on a few more pictures, more interested in trying to work the app than anything else. He’s running his finger along the bottom of the screen when the whole thing suddenly vanishes, and he finds himself in the… settings? He’s sure it is. There’s a picture of him there that Sehun had probably stolen off Joonmyun’s Facebook from that time their family went to the beach, where Joonmyun’s standing half-naked in the waves looking like a skinny little waif with a giant piece of seaweed in his hand. So, so attractive. Dread crawls up his spine when he sees the words ‘view profile’ and, steeling himself for the worst, taps on it. Joonmyun, 19. About Joonmyun: Very gay. Loves to have a good time. Read Cosmopolitan with me? Bonus points if you’re tall and muscly ;) Joonmyun lets out an unmanly squawk and deletes all of it as fast as he can, his face burning up with embarrassment at the cringey-ass description Sehun’s written for him. What’s even worse is that it’s true – except for tall and muscly – for the love of god, Joonmyun’s type is like, the total opposite. Actor Do Kyungsoo, hello? He’s where it’s at, and Sehun is a piece of shit who knows nothing. Joonmyun’s going to need a new description ASAP. He racks his brain hard, trying to think of something else that isn’t Hi I’m Joonmyun, I work in the produce section at the supermarket so I know lots about fruit and veges or I’m good at cooking noodles and cleaning. He can’t come up with anything that even sounds relatively nice, so he goes and creeps on other people’s profiles to see what they say about themselves. Incheon boy at heart. Love going out, all food’s good in my books!! Gonna to make each day better than the last. Football, music, gym, down for a beer on a hot day. Looking for my other half. Joonmyun nearly cries because these are all so much better than his own lame bio. He whines and goes back to editing his profile, pasting Sehun’s description back in because he just can’t think of anything else to write that doesn’t make him sound like a total bum. He also deletes the tall and muscly part and hopes the whole thing will help keep people away. He scrolls through some more photos of other guys on Tinder but it’s mostly him swiping left through them all. There are actually a lot of hot people on here, he’ll admit that much. It suddenly occurs to him that Sehun had said he’d added some guys that Joonmyun might like, but he can’t find them anywhere. What if they wanted to hook up with him – the thought of having to explain himself makes him sweat. Joonmyun’s never swiped right on any of these guys. He figures he might as well do it at least once for the fun factor since he’s going to delete this app anyway, fuck Sehun and his meddling ass. He picks some cute guy with a cute smile who’s holding up two fingers in a V-sign in his selca, and reads his profile. Jongdae, 21. About Jongdae: Photography is my life. Living my dream, just waiting for someone special to come along and make it better. Chill out. Aww. Joonmyun swipes his photo to the right and LIKE appears over Jongdae’s face. And then the picture is gone, with some new guy called Sunggyu underneath. He waits with bated breath, but nothing happens. Joonmyun’s eyebrows furrow together, disappointed. Was it broken? He sighs, wondering why he’s even paying so much attention to this stupid app. He’s supposed to be sleeping so he can get up tomorrow and make sure the giant baby Sehun is fed and watered in time for school. “Hyung, are you on Tinder?” Joonmyun drops his phone onto his pillow, eyes wide, his heart racing at a thunderous speed. His room’s dark but he can see feet blocking out part of the light from under the door – he hadn’t noticed it before, having been so absorbed in the app. “What are you talking about?” he shouts back. “How would you know what I’m doing anyway?” “Because I can see the light from your phone when I look under the door?” Brat. “Are you sure need me to show you how to use it?” “No, I’m sleeping! Go to bed or you’re not going to wake up on time!” Joonmyun hollers at him. He quickly closes Tinder and puts his phone down, yanking the bedcovers up and pretending to be asleep. He knows Sehun has no qualms with barging in and wishes, for not the thousandth but millionth time in his life, that his parents would let him install a lock on his door. He accidentally falls asleep. Jongdae stifles a yawn as he clicks away on his computer, hurrying to finish the last touch-ups on the batch of photos due at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. It’s not actually that late but the coffee cup on the table beside his hand is empty, having been drained long ago. He’d partied too hard last night at Minseok’s twenty-first and had spent the majority of today lying on the couch nursing his asshole of a hangover. Luhan had laughed himself stupid at his predicament but Jongdae’s extremely thankful Baekhyun’s chill as heck and never hounds him over the monthly deadlines – probably because Baekhyun’s shit at meeting them too – but sometimes he wonders how Cosmopolitan Korea functions properly with a team like them. Thankfully, Taeyeon’s lethal organizational skills keep everyone in line. Jongdae also doesn’t know why he even lives with Luhan when all the blond does is mock him and fornicate with Minseok on the couch when Jongdae’s not home. Luhan pokes his head into the lounge. He’s dressed to kill, thighs squeezed by booty shorts that barely cover his nuts, choker around his neck and a flimsy white tank that Jongdae can see his silver nipple piercings through. He hops about on one foot, trying to get his leg into sweatpants as he blinks his smoky eyes at the figure sitting at the table with a blanket draped around his shoulders. “You still up?” he inquires. “Yeah, just a couple more to go.” Jongdae yawns again and hits the save button. Wu Yifan is nice to look at and all but he’s been looking at every inch of him for hours, and Jongdae’s about to face plant into his keyboard. He’s more than willing to bet that his co-editor’s gay ass has had a hand in why Cosmopolitan Korea’s had so many four-page spreads of the Chinese actor in the last few months, but according to Yixing from sales management the women love it. “You heading off to work?” Jongdae asks. “Mm. Won’t be back until four-ish.” Part-time dance instructor is Luhan’s job by day, full-time (pole) dancer is his job by night. He’s been trying to rope Jongdae into lessons for years but all of his attempts so far have failed miserably. “Catch some sleep soon, ‘kay?” “Yes, mommy dearest,” Jongdae smirks, complete with a full-blown kissy face. Luhan slips his arms into a grey hoodie and takes the effort of walking all the way across the room to personally clout the back of Jongdae’s head. “Ow, that hurt. Go to work, egg, before Minseok calls up–” Jongdae’s phone beeps and he picks it up, wondering who’s texting him at eleven o’clock at night. Nobody’s texting him. It’s a notification from Tinder. “Someone actually swiped right on your super cliché profile,” Luhan comments from over his shoulder. “So, when are you going to thank me for putting you on Tinder?” “In your dreams. Half of the people on here aren’t that interesting and the other half just want to fuck,” Jongdae retorts, opening up the app to get a better look at this guy. “I don’t have a way with fancy words anyway. Why do you think I’m a photographer?” A photo appears on the screen. “Touché! Oh my god, look at the cute little twink,” Luhan coos as Jongdae goes through the photos of Joonmyun, 19. Aside from the one of him at the beach (is that a piece of seaweed he’s holding?) they’re pretty generic. Food, friends, normal outings. “Don’t tell me he’s not what you like, Jongdae, go bang him or I quit being your friend.” His friend gives him a withering look. “I’m trying to be serious here. Mind your own business and go bang your boss,” he says snippily, angling his body so Luhan can’t see the screen of his phone. “My boss bangs me.” Minseok is always game for a round of two after work. Luhan leans in and playfully licks Jongdae’s face, the stud of his tongue piercing warm against the skin of Jongdae’s cheek before he gets up and saunters out of the lounge. “Go get ‘em, tiger. I’ll catch you later.” Jongdae’s spent enough time living with Luhan to acquire permanent immunity to his overly-touchy antics, mostly sticking to swatting at him when Luhan forgets the existence of personal space. He merely waves Luhan off on his way out the door and turns his attention back on his phone. Joonmyun is pretty cute. Jongdae visits his profile to see if he can find out why a guy like him is on Tinder, and actually bursts out laughing. He closes the profile, wiping a stray tear from his eye, and swipes Joonmyun’s photo to the right. “I can’t find my socks,” Sehun says, looking between his feet and his shoes sadly. How is he meant to go to school like this? Joonmyun groans at the absurdity of his statement and shuts the front door. They haven’t even been awake for a full hour, with Sehun having woken up late. “Wait here, I’ll get you some of mine,” Joonmyun says firmly. In his mind he’s already praying for his precious socks that are going to come back distended as hell after being on Sehun’s monstrous feet, but on his way to his room he spots the basket of unfolded laundry sitting in the hallway and it’s like a fuse inside him explodes. He snatches up the basket, marches back to Sehun and dumps the contents of it all over his feet. Sehun yelps in surprise. “Find your socks,” Joonmyun hisses, stomping into the kitchen with a huff. Today is one of those days where he seriously questions Jongin’s taste in boys (and he kind of wishes Jongin was staying over, because that would mean there’s at least one person under this roof that Sehun will listen to). There are still dishes sitting in the sink from breakfast and Joonmyun breathes heavily through his nose, turning on the tap to fill it up and squirting dishwashing liquid in. He should get those done and then duck out for a quick grocery shopping trip since he’s not going to have time to do it after work tonight, and maybe relax with some k-dramas somewhere in between while Sehun’s at school and out of his hair. He leaves the dishes on the rack to dry and writes up a shopping list before going to wash up and get changed out of his stripy pajamas. He checks his phone to see if his parents have left him any messages but there’s only one from his manager reminding her employees to be on time because there’s a big banana delivery today. And multiple Tinder notifications, much to Joonmyun’s eyes surprise, until he remembers he’d forgotten to delete it before he went to bed the previous night. He plops down on his bed, wallet and keys lying abandoned as curiosity gets the better of him. He sees three guys have been matched with him but he doesn’t even recognize two of them – they must be people Sehun had added – and there goes ten minutes of Joonmyun’s life that he’s never getting back, wasted on figuring out to delete them. But the third guy, after a moment’s careful inspection, is Jongdae from last night. Joonmyun’s fingers freeze on his phone. He’d wondered where Jongdae’s picture had disappeared off to after he’d swiped right but it’s back, his face grinning kittenishly at him. Joonmyun’s heart starts thumping hard in his chest. He’s not ready for this because he’s truly a fifteen-year-old boy trapped in the body of an adult. Hey, cutie, a message from Jongdae reads. How’s it going? Do you want me to read Cosmo with you? Joonmyun lets out a terrified scream and chucks his phone into his pillow. His entire face goes redder than a chilli pepper, the heat creeping out to his ears and down his neck. “Why does this have to happen to me?” he whimpers. He picks up his phone and peeps at it like he’s expecting the message to have gone away but it hasn’t, and whimpers again. It’s okay, he types before he even knows what he’s doing, I’m fine. You don’t have to read with me. He swallows with trepidation and sends it, excitement thrumming through his veins. Oh, how Sehun would laugh if he saw him right now, eyes stuck on his phone, cheeks dusted a blushy pink and limbs jiggly with anticipation. He would laugh hard enough to wet his pants, and then probably leave them lying around for Joonmyun to put in the washing machine. He bites down on his knuckles to muffle a squeal when a reply suddenly appears, thrilled that Jongdae’s online actually wants to talk to him. If you insist (: So, you wanna tell me about yourself? He sounds so sweet, and Joonmyun feels like a teenage girl. He knows, after composing an answer with much trepidation in his fingers and a dorky smile on his face, that he’s going to be totally hooked after this. He should have just listened to himself and deleted Tinder the second Sehun put it on his phone. Luhan wakes up at noon to a commotion somewhere in the house. Not sure if anyone else is home, he gets up and plods sleepily into the lounge to see what’s going on. It’s just Jongdae, sitting in front of his computer and laughing really loudly at his phone. Luhan turns wordlessly around and goes straight back to bed. “What was it?” Minseok murmurs. “Just Jongdae being disgusting.” Minseok chuckles, throwing an elaborately-inked arm over Luhan’s waist and pulling him closer. “Let him live.” When Luhan is fully awake, teeth brushed and wandering around the house after a shower with only a towel each around his waist and shoulders, he walks into the lounge to find Jongdae still sitting in front of his computer and laughing really loudly at his phone. “Jesus Christ,” he says sarcastically. Jongdae glances up, and then back down. “You called?” “How’s your Tinder romance?” Jongdae laughs again, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Cute. He works in a supermarket, in the produce section,” he says. “Apples are his favourite because they stack the best. Likes books, art, a ton of other stuff and bike rides. He’s got one younger brother and god, you’ll never believe what a little shithead he is–” Luhan slides off the towel around his shoulders and proceeds to rub his hair dry. “Nice, look how deep in you already are,” he snickers. “Also, did you get your shit submitted to Baek on time this morning?” “I got up early to finish it.” How Jongdae had even ended up living with Luhan puzzles their mutual friends since the two of them run in completely different work circles, but it had been from Baekhyun that Jongdae had heard the co-editor’s friend Luhan was looking for someone to share his house to keep the rent down. Jongdae had been in between places and sleeping on the floor of a studio at the time, so he’d jumped at the opportunity and now here he was. “Oi, did you know Joonmyun was head librarian in high school?” he says. Luhan just gives him a look, his towel-dried hair sticking up at odd angles. “Oh my god. You’re actually beyond salvation.” “Hey,” Minseok says, coming into the lounge with a freshly-brewed mug of coffee in hand. Sometimes Minseok lives here, sometimes he doesn’t. Mostly, he goes back and forth between Luhan’s bed and his own place. Minseok smacks the curve of Luhan’s ass on his way past, his arm’s tattoo sleeve distorting as the muscles in his arm shift with his movements. “Behave,” he tuts. “Let Jongdae have his disgusting time.” “You said I was disgusting?” Jongdae eyeballs Luhan hard over the screen of his computer. “Of course,” the blond grins back. “Just look at yourself. Has your ass moved from your chair even once since you first sat down on it?” A dialogue box appears on the screen of Joonmyun’s phone to let him know his device is down to the last twenty percent of its battery. “No,” Joonmyun mutters. This app sure was using up a lot of power. He connects his phone to the wall and glances at the alarm clock on his nightstand. He’s been talking to Jongdae for just over five hours. Joonmyun’s wallet, keys and shopping list are still on the bed where he’d left them this morning. He feels so disappointed at himself but at the same time he’s elated, the emotions mixing up in his chest until he doesn’t know what he is anymore. The almost-empty fridge doesn’t need groceries, nope. Joonmyun thinks he and Sehun could even survive on two-minute noodles for tonight if they really had to, but he can’t even begin to imagine the shame if Jongin came over and all they had to grace him with were soggy noodles that had spun a few circles in the microwave. Terrible hospitality 101; Joonmyun vows to never, ever fall that far. A new message from Jongdae wipes his brain clear of anything vaguely related to grocery shopping. Btw, do you mind if I ask why your profile says you want someone to read Cosmopolitan with you? Joonmyun’s face meets his palm. I didn’t write that, it was Sehun, he explains hurriedly. He found the Cosmo magazines I read and he assumed that I was gay. Sorry if that sounds really weird, he adds at the end, hoping that things won’t turn to crap because he likes to ogle the men in women’s magazines. Aw, you’re cute. It’s not weird, don’t worry. Joonmyun cradles his phone to his chest. But there are plenty of others you can read, Jongdae continues. Men’s Health, maybe? What does Cosmopolitan possibly offer you that other magazines don’t? Well, shit. Joonmyun’s face is on fire. Cosmo has really good photos to look at? There’s always free posters and once they even got to interview Do Kyungsoo… Jongdae’s response takes so long that Joonmyun is scared that he’s said something to offend him. He breathes out, relieved, when said response finally comes. Haha, I see. I’m always trying to improve my photography. Oh, yes. Joonmyun had forgotten that Jongdae’s a photographer too. What do you take pictures of? “People.” Luhan howls with laughter from the couch (but in reality, Minseok’s lap) and his face scrunches up the way it does when he laughs too hard. “You told him you take photos of people? How anti-climactic. Kim Jongdae, when are you going to tell your little twinky bottom that you’re employed, as a photographer, by his favourite magazine?” “But I do photograph people,” Jongdae says smoothly. He pretends he didn’t hear ‘twinky little bottom’. “Am I lying? No.” “Half-naked men.” “Still people.” Jongdae’s told himself that he wouldn’t share any more details about his conversations with Joonmyun but he can’t resist; it bursts out of him at random times and because of that, Luhan’s taken to sitting on the couch all afternoon just to make(out with Minseok) fun of him. “You continue telling yourself that.” Luhan dismisses him with a flick of his hand. Joonmyun comes across to Jongdae as a timid kind of person until he gets irritated. He also strikes Jongdae as the easily flustered type, and the latter sincerely prays that Joonmyun and Luhan will never be left in a room together by themselves. I do all kinds of photography, he tells Joonmyun. I’ve done magazine shoots and been to big events, graduation photos and weddings, you know, that kind of thing. But you’re so young! You must be really good, Joonmyun replies, and Jongdae’s ego inflates ten-fold. Of course he is. It also pays to know some people in the industry (but really, Baekhyun’s been owing him favours since high school). “Don’t you have somewhere to be this afternoon?” Luhan asks. Jongdae doesn’t even have to check the time to know he’s been sitting on Tinder for far too many hours. He can feel it in his hands, the way his fingers are stuck in a phone-holding conformation and the ache he feels every time he so much as wiggles a digit. “Yeah,” he answers. “Can’t miss out on my cousin turning eight, can I?” Hey, speaking of photography, I have to go soon. I’ve been hired for a kid’s birthday party in a few hours and I gotta get stuff ready. Joonmyun admits to him that he was supposed to be out doing the groceries since that morning and Jongdae feels a little bit guilty for distracting him so badly. They agree to exchange numbers and he finally puts his phone down to stretch his limbs after being stationary for so long. “Don’t you have work too?” Minseok nudges at Luhan and the blond obediently gets off his boyfriend’s lap. “Just kiddos to teach at half past three,” he shrugs, also stretching his arms. “You need me for work tonight?” “There’s always a pole for you in my office if you don’t want to work the floor.” Minseok grins and Jongdae wants to cover his ears before it turns into full-blown dirty talk in front of him. He can’t even fathom how Luhan can still pole dance after getting it up the ass on such a frequent basis, but that’s none of his business. Joonmyun successfully completes his shopping trip just before Sehun gets back from school. He’s still trying to make all the vegetables fit in the fridge when he hears the front door open, followed by Sehun and Jongin’s voices. He’s so glad that they’ve got more than two-minute noodles in the pantry. “I’m home,” comes Sehun’s voice. “Where are you?”. “In the kitchen,” Joonmyun calls back. He empties a plastic bag of packed meat and puts them on a shelf. Sehun pokes his head around the fridge door. “Don’t forget that you have to take me and Jongin to dance practice,” he reminds Joonmyun. “What?” Joonmyun straightens up and glares at him. “Why can’t you walk there like you normally do? It’s only half an hour away. Don’t be so lazy.” “But hyung, you can drive me!” Sehun begs him. “What if we get mugged on the way? And Jongin? And–” “Alright, fine. What time? Help me out with the groceries first or I’m not driving you.” Sehun puts away the boxes of cereal and a tub of gochujang paste. “Three-thirty, remember?” he says. “And why did you only do the shopping now? Did you go back to sleep this morning?” Joonmyun stuffs all the plastic bags into the kitchen’s bag of plastic bags. “I was busy,” he says shortly. “Were you reading Cosmo?” “Will you stop bringing that up?” “Were you on Tinder?” “No, I deleted it. Don’t touch my phone anymore.” After Joonmyun drops Sehun and Jongin off, he changes the password on his phone. He also deletes Tinder. He’d been thrilled when Jongdae had offered to swap numbers, offering up his own number without second doubt and saving Jongdae’s one into his contacts. Joonmyun likes talking to him; Jongdae’s just so friendly, he’s talkative and he doesn’t seem to be freaked out by anything, least of all habits that include reading women’s magazines. The last time Joonmyun had looked at Jongdae’s profile, it had said he wasn’t too far away. Getting there would be the least of his problems. He tells himself to calm down. Its been a day. Joonmyun’s shy, but he really, really wants to meet him. With the rest of the photography team, Jongdae runs official photoshoots for Cosmopolitan Korea several times a month. Most of the time he’ll get an email a week in advance to tell him to prepare for a shoot, and other times when that person bails and they’ve got nobody else then it’s his job to find a replacement. He’s met some cool people, a handful of snotty celebrities and even a few of his idols in the small number of years he’s been working for the magazine. There’s a selca of him and Kyungsoo saved to his phone from the last time Kyungsoo had done a shoot with Cosmo for the Man of the Month four-page spread, and a small smile spreads across his face when he remembers how much Joonmyun had gushed over the actor. Jongdae’s re-adjusting one of the lights that an assistant had accidentally bumped into when there’s a knock on the door and Baekhyun comes in from the office next door to ask if everything’s set up. Cosmopolitan Korea’s main headquarters is located in the city, but the studio’s hidden elsewhere to stop people from showing up to see their celebrities. “We’re ready to roll,” Jongdae confirms, and gives him a thumbs-up. Baekhyun nods and Taeyeon leads TVXQ into the studio. Changmin and Yunho are easy to work with. The theme is tropical island getaway and there are props aplenty as the two of them laze around in the fake sand, iced drinks in hand and snorkeling gear tucked under an arm. The shutter of Jongdae’s camera clicks all afternoon until they wrap up the shoot and Taeyeon sweeps the two men out of the studio to discuss a friendly dinner with the magazine crew. “Looking good,” Baekhyun remarks, peering over Jongdae’s shoulder as the photographer nods and scrolls through the raw images on the computer. There’s going to be some work involved to make the shots more realistic and like they were taken on an actual tropical island, but photography is Jongdae’s kingdom and he’s the king. Jongdae’s phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out to find a message from Joonmyun. Hi! How’s your day going? There’s a cute selca of himself too and it makes Jongdae just want to pick him up and cuddle him. They’ve been messaging each other for almost two weeks now, but only last week had Joonmyun gathered the courage to send Jongdae a picture of himself. He was absolutely adorable. “Who’s that?” Baekhyun asks, looming in to get a better look. “He’s cute.” Jongdae immediately shoves his phone back into his pocket. He’ll reply to Joonmyun later when he has more time (and privacy). “Someone I found on Tinder,” he says, and Baekhyun waggles his eyebrows at him. “We’ve been talking for a while.” “Oh yeah? Have you met him?” “Not yet, but damn I want to. You’d want to too, if you saw his pictures.” “Jongdae, please. Wu Yifan is the only one for me. We’ve had this conversation. Multiple times.” “Piss off, he’s way out of your league and you can’t even pronounce your words properly when he comes for photoshoots.” Jongdae spins around in his computer chair, his eyes bright with a novel idea. “Hey, could do something for me?” Baekhyun tilts his head suspiciously. “Not if you’re going to continue insulting my love for Yifan.” “Okay, I’ll stop. Baek, do you think Do Kyungsoo would be interested in doing another interview with Cosmopolitan Korea?” Not that Joonmyun’s been counting, but Sehun’s been looking at him oddly for weeks. He stares extra hard and extra long whenever Joonmyun’s on his phone, whenever Joonmyun smiles at the device, whenever Joonmyun leaves the house. Their parents had come back from their holiday some time ago and Sehun had made this face the entire time like he had something to say, but Joonmyun had honestly been too absorbed in Jongdae to pay attention. Neither his mother nor his father have approached Joonmyun about anything so he assumes he’s safe. “Aww, please?” Sehun whines, putting his best pouty face on when he gets told that Jongin should go home. “No,” his mother says firmly. “You know the rules. It’s late and Jongin shouldn’t be out so late.” The poor kid is stuck between them but he’s a good kid, and rules are rules. He tries to placate Sehun’s mother by telling her he’s going to call his dad to pick him up but she brushes him off and insists that he shouldn’t trouble his father like that. In the corner of the couch, Joonmyun hides his laughter in a cushion. He’s pretty sure his mother loves Jongin more than her own son but then again, Joonmyun’s had plenty of days where he would rather have Jongin over Sehun. “Joonmyun can take you back,” his mother says brightly, and Joonmyun’s head snaps up from his text message to Jongdae. Sehun looks horrified, like Joonmyun’s going to tell Jongin awful baby stories about him when they’re alone in the car. “But–” His mother glares at him, daring him to suggest that she, dressed her pajamas without make-up and her hair in rollers, should be the one to drive Jongin home. Sehun shrinks back into his seat and Jongin pats him consolingly on the arm. Joonmyun drives Jongin home. Jongin remains mostly quiet during the trip, sitting in the passenger seat with his backpack in his arms until the car draws to a stop at an intersection and he looks at Joonmyun inquisitively. “Joonmyun-hyung,” he pipes up, “Sehun’s really starting to think you actually found a boyfriend on Tinder. He says you’re always texting someone.” The lights turn green but the car doesn’t move. “I… I might have.” Joonmyun remembers to step on the gas and the car rolls forward. “We’re still talking, you know?” “Ah, okay. Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” Jongin promises. How Sehun had managed to catch a diamond like Jongin, Joonmyun will never know. Sehun’s eyes follow Joonmyun around like a hungry vulture as soon as he gets back. “Who are you talking to?” he asks when he sees his older brother sit down and take out his phone. “I’m online shopping,” Joonmyun lies as he taps away on the screen. Sorry I had to go drop my brother’s bf off. Are you going to bed soon? “Are you buying the next issue of your Cosmo magazine?” Sehun smirks. “I just bought a yearly subscription the other day, so no,” Joonmyun replies, before he realizes what he’s just said. His hands fly up to his mouth, his face already flaming red. It had initially been Jongdae’s idea to subscribe since Sehun’s already found out that Joonmyun’s an avid reader, but Joonmyun hadn’t intended on telling him about it. “I – never mind…” “Doesn’t whoever you’re talking to get mad that you spend your time looking at guys from a girly magazine?” Sehun says sweetly. I have a shoot with Hyundai early in the morning. Let me call you to say goodnight? Joonmyun splutters unattractively at both Sehun’s comment and Jongdae’s message. This is the first time Jongdae’s mentioned wanting to personally talk to him and, well, Sehun’s cackling is ruining the moment. “Shut up!” Joonmyun hisses, getting off the couch and hurrying to his room. He closes the door securely behind him and dives under his blanket. “Go to sleep, you have to be up for school!” The best thing is that Sehun can’t even pull his bullshit on Joonmyun in the mornings because their parents are around and no one in this house is more ready to cuff Sehun across the back of his head than their mother. Joonmyun’s phone rings and he nearly drops it in his surprise and rush to turn the sound off. “H-hello?” he whispers, dragging the covers over his head so shitty little brothers can’t hear him if they’re standing outside his door, “Jongdae?” “Hi,” Jongdae sings, and Joonmyun’s insides instantly incinerate themselves to mush. “How’s your night? I’ve been meaning to hear your voice for ages.” “Uh. Hi Jongdae.” Joonmyun blushes furiously when he hears soft laughter on the other end of the line. He’s managed to say three words; a world-class achievement. “Are you in bed now?” “Almost, but I just thought I’d say goodnight. You’re on my mind a lot, so let’s meet up some time, okay? Sleep well.” The call disconnects faster than Joonmyun can even lift his phone from his ear. He huddles under his blanket, dumbfounded, for an unknown amount of time with his heart threatening to burst out of his ribcage and his phone held tight in his hand. He briefly considers asking Sehun for advice, but he’s also convinced the only thing he’s going to get back is ‘but I thought you deleted Tinder?’ accompanied by an expression so smarmy it’ll probably transcend the time and space continuum to haunt Joonmyun in the afterlife. Joonmyun washes his face and inspects his skin in the mirror. He looks after it well so it’s clear and blemish free, and he can only hope it holds out until the day he and Jongdae see each other in person. His mind conjures up imaginary scenarios of him asking Jongdae to be his boyfriend and he acts them out with himself, but it’s so cheesy that he just ends up twiddling his thumbs and blushing like a little girl. Jongdae… Jongdae’s going to have to do this instead of him. Joonmyun takes off his t shirt and observes his reflection thoughtfully. He’s paler than a bathroom floor tile and a stick insect is probably fatter than him, his shoulders slim and waist even more so. He’s small and cute and tiny and it’s no wonder Sehun’s been accusing him of being a total bottom ever since he outed his older brother. Joonmyun takes out his phone, suddenly struck with an idea. He opens the camera and winks at the mirror, snapping a pic and sending it straight to Jongdae, wishing him a good night with a little love heart at the end. The god of all corny things is watching over him today. Waking up with morning wood is normal. Jongdae deals with it in a normal way, like a normal person, so it’s only fair to say he’s allowed to sit on the toilet with his boxers pooled around his ankles and jack off to a picture of someone. He moans with satisfaction when he comes, Joonmyun’s name spilling from his lips as he dirties his hand with white. His breathing is erratic and uneven, wracked with gasps as he squeezes his eyes shut, riding out his orgasm until he’s left in a boneless heap on the toilet seat. He sits on there some more while cleans himself up and pulls his boxers back on, legs feeling like jelly. Shit, that had been such a hot surprise to wake up to. Jongdae’s still thinking of ways to repay the deed when a series of bangs on the bathroom door jolt him out of his thoughts. “Hurry up, I need to piss,” Luhan complains from the other side. Jongdae groans and unlocks the door, stumbling out in a daze with his phone. He walks straight into a half-naked Luhan, his skin littered with love bites and hickeys. It’s standard dancer policy to look after your body for work but it’s hard when Kim Minseok doubles as your boyfriend and boss, really, and Luhan’s always got buckets of concealer at the ready. Jongdae’s so high on endorphins that he just keeps on walking back to his room without even batting an eye. He starts getting changed for his wedding reception gig at noon and sends Joonmyun a selca of himself in his suit and tie. Damn, Jongdae’s handsome. Joonmyun’s awfully glad that no one was home to hear him shriek at the top of his voice when he’d opened Jongdae’s message. He’d saved the photo immediately and pranced around his room for a good ten minutes. Sehun’s at school. Their mother’s at work and their father is attending a conference so Joonmyun’s alone until his four o’clock hair appointment at the salon. Jongdae had said he was going to be busy today too, so Joonmyun passes the time by watching his favourite k-drama and imagining himself in place of Ji Hyesoo and Jongdae as Jang Jaeyeol. Sehun brings Jongin home after school and they walk in on Joonmyun lying on the couch blowing his nose and wiping at his snotty face, clutching at himself as he sobs his guts out at Kangwoo getting hit by a car. “I am so sorry you had to see that,” Sehun says to a confused Jongin, pushing him back out into the hallway. Jongin assures him it’s okay. His sisters cry over dramas all the time. “But he keeps on watching that drama because Do Kyungsoo’s in it,” Sehun continues, like the very idea of it pains him, “and I don’t know how to make him stop.” “Shut up, Sehun,” Joonmyun blubbers from the lounge. “Only if you drive us to dance practice,” Sehun says back. “I think it’s going to rain. I might get sick–” The sky’s a stormy grey and the ground’s still dry, but Sehun and Jongin score a ride down to dance practice anyway and Joonmyun decides to just turn up for his hair appointment early so he doesn’t have to go home and watch Kangwoo die on TV. He is most peeved when Sehun chooses to ring him in the middle of having his hair blow dried, and complains that it’s raining and it’s too cold outside for him to walk. “I can’t get you,” Joonmyun says, awkwardly holding his phone by his ear while the hairdresser waits with her hair dryer in her hand. He can hear Sehun whining and Jongin trying to convince him that they can just run and he doesn’t live that far away. “Look, I’m nearly done. If you can wait another ten minutes until I’m finished, then I’ll pick you up?” There’s no reply, only mutterings and vague parts of a conversation that Joonmyun can’t catch properly. “Sehun?” Joonmyun prompts, annoyed. “It’s okay,” Sehun tells him, “you just stay where you are and make yourself pretty. I found someone else to take me home.” “Let me talk to him,” another faint voice in the background insists, a pause following when Sehun hands his phone over. “Hello, this is Luhan. I’m Sehun’s dance teacher.” Joonmyun’s never met him, but he’s glad it’s somebody reliable. “Hi, it’s Joonmyun, Sehun’s brother. I’m very sorry for troubling you with driving Sehun home…” He makes a note to thank him for his kindness and generosity for carting Sehun’s lazy ass around. “Thank you, ah–” Should he offer to do something for Luhan? Maybe that would be overly thankful and just a little bit weird. “–Very much.” There’s a cough and a splutter from the other end. “Oh, no, it’s not a problem, Joonmyun, did you say your name was?” “Yes, that’s right.” Joonmyun’s stylist is starting to tap her foot impatiently, so he squashes in another quick apology and another thanks and disconnects the call. He comes home to a blue car parked outside the house. As soon as Joonmyun pulls his key out of the ignition, the door to the mystery car opens. Sehun springs out and makes a dash for the front porch, hoisting his bag over his head to keep the rain away. The car zooms off before Joonmyun can get a good look at the driver but Sehun’s waving at it as it goes down the street. “That was Luhan,” Sehun explains when Joonmyun asks. “He said he wanted to wait until you got home so he could make sure I got into the house safely. Isn’t he nice?” “So to what do I owe the pleasure of this free dinner?” Baekhyun plucks another piece of pork from the grill, placing it in his bowl as he eyes his friend curiously across the table. “Don’t tell me you want to feature in Man of the Month?” Luhan grins. “Man of the Month is too overrated for me,” he says, “since I have my man of the day every day. I don’t even read Cosmopolitan anyway and the last time you borrowed Minseok for a photoshoot he said it took ages.” Baekhyun makes this face, like he really doesn’t need those images going through his head while he’s eating. “Then what did you call me out for?” he asks. He downs the rest of his water and flags down a waitress for a refill. “Actually, I was going to ask if you’ve found someone for the next Man of the Month shoot yet.” “Oh, right.” Baekhyun taps his chopsticks against his lower lip thoughtfully. “Jongdae was saying to ask Kyungsoo the other day but the last time we featured him wasn’t exactly a long time ago. I might still give him a call, though. Why are you looking at me like that?” Luhan leans creepily close, or at least as close as he can get since the Korean barbeque grill’s embedded in the middle of the table. “Let me ask you a question,” he says, letting the silence drag for the suspense, “have you seen Jongdae’s cute little bottom yet?” Baekhyun is hardly impressed. “I went to high school with the guy,” he replies with a touch of sarcasm. “I’ve seen his ass in the locker rooms way more times than I’ve ever wanted to.” “Not that bottom, I’m talking about the one he’s always messaging. On his phone?” Baekhyun gasps. “Wait, him?” He recalls seeing a picture for like half a second before Jongdae had put his phone away, on the day of the photoshoot with TVXQ. “The one he met on Tinder?” Luhan’s eyebrows disappear into his hair. “Oh, so you know?” “No, that was all he told me. Fuck, Luhan, what kind of nickname is ‘Jongdae’s cute little bottom’ supposed to be–” “You’d know why if you saw him, Baek; so which is why I want to ask, can I make a suggestion for your next Man of the Month?” Sometimes Cosmopolitan Korea doesn’t always have a celebrity for their monthly four-page spread, and Joonmyun understands that high-profile people like them are often hard to get a hold of at the right time and date. Sometimes the magazine shoots high-profile local people, unknown people, everyday people, but Joonmyun’s happy with all of them and they’re all handsome in their own way. Sometimes Joonmyun thinks about what it would be like to have hundreds of thousands of people staring at his face and his body if he were one of these stunning models, businessmen, designers, fathers. The main highlight of the front cover wouldn’t be him, of course; it would be a female because this is a women’s magazine after all but being under the scrutiny of so many eyes scares him like nothing else. So when Jongdae asks if Joonmyun would like to take part in one of his important photoshoots, his shyness skyrockets and he’s left lying in his bed breathless with his heart about to explode out of his chest. He can’t believe it. He’ll finally get to meet Jongdae at last. “Are you still there?” Jongdae’s inquires, his voice scratchy and mechanical through the phone. Joonmyun can tell he’s trying not to laugh and he’s so, so glad Jongdae can’t see his blushing face right now. “I–I’ve never done a photoshoot,” he stammers. “I won’t know what to do.” “Most people don’t either, but it’s only me and a small team there so you don’t have to worry. It’d be a nice way to meet you, wouldn’t it? I can take you out to eat when we’re done too.” Joonmyun thinks he’s going to pass out. In his house, in front of the bedroom mirror where he’s putting on his make-up for his shift at work that night, Luhan hears Jongdae screaming in the lounge. “Are you okay?” he yells through the house, just in case Jongdae’s hyperventilated and died. “I’m fine!” Jongdae yells back. “He said he would come to the shoot, oh my god. I’m so glad Baekhyun said Kyungsoo couldn’t make it!” He screams some more. Luhan smiles to himself, and continues dusting shimmer powder onto his eyelids. Fending Sehun off as Joonmyun goes out is proving to be harder than making him do the housework. Sehun clings to him and pesters him non-stop about where he’s really going (“I know you don’t have friends who would invite you over on a Saturday morning so you have to tell me who you’re meeting up with!”) until their mother tells him to leave Joonmyun alone and that his breakfast is getting cold. Joonmyun’s been buzzing with energy since he woke up. He’s marked down the days on his calendar until the photoshoot and the nervousness sits low in his belly as he slaps Sehun’s hands away and gets into his car. He’s so excited for this that he just can’t put it past himself to care when Sehun mushes his face up against the car window and says, “I know you have a boyfriend, hyung. You always talk to him at night before you go to sleep. I came in once and heard you under your blanket.” Okay, maybe Joonmyun’s a little pissed that Sehun had come in without knocking again (although in Sehun’s defense, Joonmyun wouldn’t have a heard a thing with Jongdae whispering things into his ear under the covers). Joonmyun just plugs in the address Jongdae had given him into the GPS, starts the car and pulls the finger at Sehun as he reverses out of the driveway. The expression on his brother’s face is priceless and the last Joonmyun sees of Sehun for the morning is their mother dragging him back inside the house to have breakfast. The GPS takes him to a greyish, nondescript little building squished in between more greyish, nondescript little buildings, only identifiable by the small ‘STUDIO’ sign on the door. It’s unlocked so they must be expecting him, and he takes out his phone to give Jongdae a call as he wanders down a corridor and finds another door. “Hello?” “Hi Jongdae, I’m inside,” Joonmyun whispers, pushing it open and stepping inside. It’s dimly but warmly lit, with the big umbrellas those professional photographers always have set up everywhere, cords and stands and things all over the floor. There’s a big bed set up underneath a light and a box of props on the ground next to it but he’s not even looking in that direction. “It’s about time,” Jongdae says, and Joonmyun hears it both in his ear and in person when he sees who’s sitting behind the computer at the desk. All the photos Joonmyun had sent him, all the ones he’s seen on Joonmyun’s Tinder, on his Facebook – they all lied. They could have never prepared him for this. Joonmyun’s cute and Jongdae is so fucked. Joonmyun’s just standing there and blinking back in bewilderment, dressed in a loose grey sweater that’s struggling to stay on his shoulders, jeans hugging his legs and soft brown hair windblown from the weather. Jongdae stares at him for an incredibly inappropriate length of time before he remembers to stand up and offer him a drink, sending one of the nearby assistants off to fetch a hot chocolate when Joonmyun doesn’t refuse. “I’m going to hug you,” Jongdae cheerfully announces, cringing inwardly at how stupid it sounds when he says it aloud. He can thank his lucky stars Luhan’s at home still asleep and not here laughing to the point where he needs to go to the bathroom because he’s pissed himself. “Okay,” Joonmyun smiles, all his teeth showing, and Jongdae leaves the desk to scoop him up in his arms. Joonmyun’s barely taller than he is and Jongdae can actually feel himself falling for the way Joonmyun snuggles into his chest, like he’s been waiting for this for a long time. “Goddamn, you’re cute,” Jongdae mutters. Joonmyun’s face flares up and he looks at the floor. He even stumbles over his words when he speaks and Jongdae’s entire existence wails at how unfair this is. “You are… too? I’m really excited to meet you.” One of the make-up stylists snaps her fingers at them. “Is that him?” she asks, pointing at Joonmyun, and Jongdae nods in affirmation. “Come on, we haven’t got all day.” Joonmyun’s mouth drops open in shock, but Jongdae nudges him forward. “Go with her,” Jongdae tips his head in the stylist’s direction, “and I’ll brief you on the shoot while she’s getting you ready. Business before pleasure, yeah?” The make-up artists love him to bits. Joonmyun sits like a stone in the chair while they powder his face and line his eyes and tousle his hair, listening to them marvel at how he ‘doesn’t move every three seconds like Park Chanyeol, ah yes, I remember him, ugh I had to redo his hair twice, never again, sweet Jesus’. Jongdae chats idly with him about the details of the photoshoot. He explains that the theme is a sweet dream (although it’s more like Jongdae’s wet dream right now) and for the most part Joonmyun is to be caught between the sheets, eyes dark as if to tempt a lover to bed, sultry and teasing. When’s he’s ready Joonmyun hops onto the bed, his arms covered in goosebumps. He’s hardly wearing anything and Jongdae’s staring intensely at him again. He secretly pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming, and he’s not. His nerves thrum with a mix of apprehension and adrenaline as he watches Jongdae shoo out most of the photography crew except for one assistant and comes back to fuss over him. The attention feels so much better compared to looking after an ungrateful crap like Sehun – but this time, and only this time ever in his life, Joonmyun might just thank Sehun. Jongdae takes up his camera and adjusts the settings before lifting it to his eye and snapping a few test shots to make sure he’s satisfied. “Ready?” The photoshoot itself is, despite how excited Jongdae was to have Joonmyun as the subject, pretty shit. It’s apparent by the end of the first hour that Joonmyun isn’t suited for this kind of work at all. He’s not sexually alluring in the way professional models turn their smoldering gazes on the camera, and he curls up on himself when he could be stretched like a panther across the bed – in Jongdae’s opinion, even previous people with no experience in this field have churned out better results. Joonmyun starts to worry when he sits next to Jongdae at his computer to review the shots they’ve taken and Jongdae’s frowning so hard at the screen that his eyebrows have joined together to make the oddest monobrow Joonmyun’s ever seen. Jongdae flips through the photos quickly. Joonmyun hugging a pillow, Joonmyun hidden beneath the covers, Joonmyun with the blanket draped around his shoulders – each and every one of them with eyes that plead, ruin me. Jongdae takes a deep breath to stop himself from springing a boner right there. The photos are mostly unsuitable for Cosmo because it’s not what the women like, but they could definitely be useful elsewhere. He can feel the tension radiating off Joonmyun and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “You know what?” Jongdae says, looking at him seriously, “I think you’d be so much better off modeling for a gay porn magazine.” Cute little bottom, Luhan’s voice echoes in his head. Jongdae’s going to hell. Joonmyun gapes at him. “You think so?” He glances at the photos of himself lying on the bed. “I–I don’t think my parents would approve.” Sehun would have a fucking field day and probably tell all his friends at school. Jongdae laughs and squeezes Joonmyun’s shoulder. “I won’t send your photos to anyone, I promise,” he chuckles, resisting the urge to coo when Joonmyun’s cheeks go pink. He’ll find a replacement person for the Man of the Month; at the worst, he’ll strike some kind of shitty bargain with Luhan to convince Minseok to be in the shoot. “I think I’ll just keep them for my–” The studio door suddenly flies open, hitting the wall with a bang and nearly closing again. “Jongdae, why is the entire photography crew in my office and not here?” the guy standing in the doorway demands. “I sent them out,” Jongdae says, partly miffed that Baekhyun’s ruined the moment. “Tell them I’ll need them back later this week. I’m going to run another shoot since today’s photos aren’t what I wanted.” “What do you mean?” Baekhyun shuts the door and carefully steps over the cords snaking all over the equipment on the floor to have a look at the computer. Under the brighter light, Joonmyun can see his features clearly and he freezes in his seat, unable to believe his eyes. He lets out a loud gasp at the same time the guy’s eyes bulge when he sees the photos. “I recognize you… you’re Byun Baekhyun,” Joonmyun says faintly, and Jongdae thinks he can see stars and terror in his eyes. “Co-editor of Cosmopolitan Korea.” “You’re Jongdae’s cute little bottom,” Baekhyun blurts out, before he claps his hands over his mouth to hide his mistake. Joonmyun’s so shocked that he can’t find even find the right words to form a decent reply. Jongdae’s cute little bottom? Intense heat creeps up his neck and travels right up to his hairline. He’s Jongdae’s (cute little bottom). It would sound nice, in a way, if they weren’t all staring at each other in complete mortification. Jongdae wants to die. He wants to crawl under the bed and lie there until he disintegrates into dust and gets sucked up by a vacuum cleaner. There’s only one person he knows who could be responsible for this – Luhan, that sly, scheming pile of– “Bye bye, use protection,” Baekhyun trills, fleeing the studio and slamming the door behind him so fast that nobody else in the room has even lifted a finger until he’s gone. By the time Jongdae pulls himself together, Joonmyun’s got his arms folded across his chest and he’s glaring (that’s not a glare – it’s too cute, Jongdae’s brain cries miserably). “And you’re Kim Jongdae,” Joonmyun says incredulously, “photographer for Cosmopolitan Korea?” In spite of all the things that have gone wrong today, they set things straight and lunch actually goes down rather superbly. Jongdae takes Joonmyun to a quaint little pizzeria and they buy a ridiculous amount of pizzas to share. They end up stuffing the leftovers into a takeaway box, chatting animatedly for hours next to each other in the cozy little single booth, their knees knocking together under the table and thighs warm. At some point, when he’s tired of talking, Jongdae just grabs Joonmyun by the shoulders and kisses him square on the mouth. Joonmyun makes a strangled noise and claps his hands over his already flushed face, peering out between his fingers. “You–I–but–” “There was pizza sauce,” Jongdae quips. “On your lips.” In the late afternoon when Luhan finally surfaces from his room for a shower, he passes through the lounge and stops dead in his tracks. Jongdae’s squirreled away at his desk as usual (the couch has been a no-go zone for a long time, ever since Luhan had destroyed the sanctity of it with his dirty deeds) but he’s got a pretty boy perched in his lap and they’re sucking face like they’re going to die when the sun next rises. “Don’t forget to save a kiss for me,” Luhan says dryly, and the sudden interruption has them breaking apart like they’ve just been electrocuted by a million-volt power line. Luhan’s dressed in dirty boxers and one of Minseok’s collared shirts so this is probably going to count for a shitty first impression but he’s just so surprised at the fact Jongdae’s not alone that he doesn’t really care. Joonmyun flails about in embarrassment but Jongdae perfectly calm about it, pretending to gag and vomit on the carpet. “Please. As if I want any of your orifices near my face,” he replies. “The offer’s always open.” Luhan moves closer and sits his butt on the edge of Jongdae’s desk, waving his fingers at Joonmyun. He doesn’t fail to notice the way Jongdae deliberately curls an arm around Joonmyun’s waist. “Heya, cutie, nice to meet you in person. How’s Sehun?” Jongdae raises an eyebrow. “Uh, hi?” Joonmyun cocks his head, his lips pursed in concentration as he tries to remember where he knows this guy from. “Sehun’s fine? Uh, I’m sorry, I don’t think I–” Luhan grins at him. “Of course you do, I’m Luhan.” Joonmyun’s eyes grow as big as dinner plates when he connects all the pieces together. “You are?” He tries to scramble off Jongdae’s lap to apologize for having been so abrupt during their phone conversation (which was like ages ago but still) but Jongdae’s arm is keeping him firmly in place and he’s stuck with sitting there and blushing the same shade as his well-kissed lips. Joonmyun’s done. Jongdae shoots for his favourite magazine, the guy with his butt on Jongdae’s desk is Sehun’s dance teacher and Joonmyun – he may as well be the vice-president of South Korea. Luhan’s shoulders shake with suppressed mirth and he looks at Jongdae, obviously very amused. “Oh my god, Jongdae, he’s just so cute,” he chokes amidst tears. He’s got to resist the urge to pet Joonmyun head. “Also, since the two of you are eating each other’s faces, am I right to assume your photoshoot went spectacularly today?” “Hands off,” Jongdae snipes, tightening his arm around Joonmyun’s waist. He kicks at Luhan’s leg until the blond gets off his desk, and points at the door. He’ll strangle all the details out of Baekhyun tomorrow but it really doesn’t surprise him that Luhan’s been sticking his fingers in places where he shouldn’t be again. Luhan grabs his fallen towel from the floor and flounces off for his shower with a last wink at them. “You owe me,” he calls back cheerfully. “A lifetime of debt for you, Kim Jongdae!” Jongdae just rolls his eyes and pulls Joonmyun in for another kiss. MOD NOTE: You've reached the end of the fic! Thank you for reading. If you'd like to leave a comment, please do so in THIS Livejournal post!

Comments

[charliebnim]

This was so cool xD