Different

981kb

  "Oh, thank God..“ the reply slipped past his lips before he could stop it, and Minjae squeezed his eyes shut, regretting just about every decision he’d made that had lead him to this point in his life.

  Really, though – getting involved with someone with kids? Not high on Minjae’s to-do list.

  (And since when had he been concerned about getting involved? He’d just met the guy!)

  "What I mean is, uh..” he backpedaled, the red creeping up his neck definitely visible now. “It’s good that you take care of your roommates. Y'know..”

  He finished lamely, silently cursing himself.

The relieved reply caught him by surprise. Why was he relieved that he didn't have kids? Did he think maybe he was a completely crazy father flirting with anyone who he came across or- wait. Realization smacked him in the face and an even more cocky smirk paired with a coy eyebrow raised graced his features. "Thank God? Nah, I like to think I don't have any children thanks to my own precaution. Though hearing you say that does make me think maybe you are a bit too against kids. Are you saying you would instantly loose your blush and cuteness if you found out I had kids? Not very respectable, Minjae."

981kb

  “Just one book. Four years ago,” anything else still remained inside his head, words untranslatable. He wondered what it would be like to write again, and not in the way they did in his classes, where he does his best to turn the professor’s prompts into stories, bring them to life — to really write about something that matters.

  God, he get’s awfully sentimental when he thinks about writing. It’s almost laughable.

  “Kids?” he asked. Jackson didn’t really seem like the fatherly type, but then again, what was the fatherly type? Minjae had never experienced it — his own father had been absent, birthday parties giving way to business meetings, good night kisses cast aside for conferences.

Even in his own head, he sounded sad and pathetic. He rolled his eyes inwardly.

"Cool." Jackson said with a nod and he meant it. Having your real name on something and being able to be known for something. It was cool. At least in his mind which was filled with names linked to fake identities.

981kb

  Minjae looked up, thinking. “Uh, dishwasher detergent, cream, and…” he paused, trying to remember, still not sure why he was telling Jackson all of this, letting a virtual stranger lead him around the grocery store like a lost puppy, “— oh, yeah, I need AA batteries.”

  “I’m an author,” he said, gaze turned towards the isle, looking up and down the stacks of processed food. “And I’m in school. I’m a creative writing major.”

  Tearing his eyes away from the shelves, he tilted his head in Jackson’s direction, “If you hate it so much, why don’t you just become a teacher, then?“

Jackson nodded and lead him towards the dishwasher detergent which, lucky for him, was on the other aide of the store. "An author? Really? Published anything?" He asked, more than interested in the other endeavors.

981kb

  Minjae groaned, rolling his eyes, “Gross, you perv. So not what I meant, but glad to see your mind’s in the right place.”

  He chased after Jackson, an indignant noise bubbling up from inside his chest as the other stole away his belongings, “Hey, those are mine!”

  He snatched the basket out of Jackson’s hand, holding it protectively against his side. No one stole his fairy lights and jumbo tissues. And wow, just when he thought he couldn’t sound gayer…

  “A tutor, hm? I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve got an air of superiority about you that just screams ‘teacher.’"

  Jackson chuckled and rolled his eyes, easily letting the basket be taken from him. "What else do you have to get?" He asked, trying to sound non-chalant and not like he was trying to lengthen their time together.

981kb

  Okay, Minjae really needed Jackson to stop with that smirking thing, because that little pain in his chest from before? Yeah, it’s gotten bigger, and it’s definitely starting to get worrisome. And Minjae doesn’t do this shit, shouldn’t have to deal with this different-kind-of-hunger pang, especially not from a stranger he’d met in the toilet paper isle of the supermarket. It’s like a terrible rom-com and he kind of wants to puke, but at the same time he also wants to jump Jackson and get him to fuck him until Minjae can’t remember his own name.

  And, okay, hello invasive, terribly inappropriate thoughts. How about we don’t do this right now?

  He shoved the tissues into his cart, “And why should I tell you, hm?”

  He mentally kicked himself. Because that doesn’t seem suspicious at all, you asshole.

  Minjae had to admit, as much as he was starting to like know-it-all Jackson, with his arrogant smirk and wild hand gestures, he also couldn’t help but find this almost shy Jackson endearing. Gaining a little confidence, he raised his eyebrows, leaning in a little, teasing, “'Just know some stuff’? You’re awfully eloquent with your words there, Jackson-ssi.“

  Jackson had gotten the reaction he wanted. Defensive. Sensing the other was probably regretted his choice of words, he was not able to go back now. "Alright. Privacy. I get it. Whatever you do with your tissues is completely up to you and now that I think about it, I probably don't want to know."

  Jackson's eyes locked with Minjae's and he stayed silent for a few seconds while his carefully planned out his next course of action. Would kissing him with intentions to sophistication bison banter and maybe get a number be way out of order? Probably.

981kb

  Jackson’s — he plays with the name in his head, drawing it out in slow syllables — laugh sends a jolt of something straight through his chest, leaving him winded, andreally, he should not be getting so flustered. It was actually kind of embarrassing.

  “Aish…” he scowled, trying to cover up the blush that was threatening to escape the confines of his collar as the other leaned in closer to him. He clutched the box of tissues to his chest once they were returned. “They’re not way too big. They’re the perfect size for what I need them for.”

  Minjae raised an eyebrow as the other began to ramble on, “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was talking to a specialist here. The way I see it, they’re all just too fucking picky.“

  The other's 'I'm embarrassed but trying to hold it together' face satisfied Jackson and he moved away with a slightly cocky smirk. "Oh yeah? And what in the world would you need all those tissues for?" He asked, head tilting to the side.

  “Minjae,” he offered absentmindedly, his sad eyes trained on the box being held ransom above his head, “Please don’t mock me, I’ve worked very hard to be where I am today despite my disadvantages, height-wise.”

  He brought a hand up, reaching, only to drop it to his side. Resistance was futile. This tall, god of a man — and really, he was done with the mythology metaphors, promise — had bested him, and with — god damn it — cheek dimples and all.

  “The only thing they’re really giving up is money from their pocket book,” Minjae says, defeated, crossing his arms over his chest, and yeah, he definitely wasn’t pouting. Lee Minjae, award winning author and occasional public speaker and activist did not pout. “There are about a million substitutes for just about anything these days. Meat is unnecessary, why not just have soy beans and rice instead?” he rolled his eyes, “And it’s vegans that can’t drink milk, not vegetarians, isn’t it?”

  With a low and husky laugh, he gave the box back. "No need to pout. I had no intentions on stealing your way-too-big box of tissues." Jackson assured, running a finger through his locks out of habit. "Just thought you might need to learn a bit of gratitude, Minjae." He teased, leaning down a bit to match his height. And no, he did not just add the others name in there to see what it would sound like rolling off the tongue. Absolutely not. But maybe, just maybe, the other would say his name before they were through. Not that he was waiting with fainted breath tho. No. That wasn't like him.

981kb:

  “Minjae,” he offered absentmindedly, his sad eyes trained on the box being held ransom above his head, “Please don’t mock me, I’ve worked very hard to be where I am today despite my disadvantages, height-wise.”

  He brought a hand up, reaching, only to drop it to his side. Resistance was futile. This tall, god of a man — and really, he was done with the mythology metaphors,promise — had bested him, and with — god damn it — cheek dimples and all.

  “The only thing they’re really giving up is money from their pocket book,” Minjae says, defeated, crossing his arms over his chest, and yeah, he definitely wasn’t pouting. Lee Minjae, award winning author and occasional public speaker and activist did not pout. “There are about a million substitutes for just about anything these days. Meat is unnecessary, why not just have soy beans and rice instead?” he rolled his eyes, “And it’s vegans that can’t drink milk, not vegetarians, isn’t it?”

  The other's 'I'm embarrassed but trying to hold it together' face satisfied Jackson and he moved away with a slightly cocky smirk. "Oh yeah? And what in the world would you need all those tissues for?" He asked, head tilting to the side.

981kb:

“I would’ve got it eventually,” And even if I didn’t and I died, at least the store would have ample supply of tissues to mop up the mess. He thought morbidly. Minjae wasn’t too sure why he was acting so defensive — it probably had something to do with the fact that this Adonis of a man had maybe caught him literally clinging to a shelf like a needy boyfriend. Okay, yeah. It was definitely that.

The disturbing part was that he didn’t even know why he was getting so flustered. He wasn’t usually like this — this being the blushing virgin type. He was a twenty-three year old man, for god’s sake. He had a healthy, albeit slightly lacking sex life, had dated guys in the past, had slept with guys in the past, and yet, here he was, naked under the gaze of a man who had met him less than a minute before.

“I didn’t need any help,” he scoffed, shuffling his words a little awkwardly. Smooth. “I was doing perfectly fine on my own before you showed up. In fact, I was doing great. Fantastic. Absolutely brilliant.”

Shut up!! The little voice in his head was screaming constantly, high pitched and definitely annoying. Speaking of which, when the hell did his inner monologue start doing aegyo?

“So I guess the roommate thing explains the three different types of milk, too?” he looked back up, meeting the stranger’s eyes, giving himself a mental high five when he didn’t blush (at least not excessively…) “I have to ask… why three?”

  An eyebrow cocked as he listened to the other ramble on about how he didn't need his help. Jackson found it,though he'd never admit it, rather adorable. "Hmm." He hummed, taking the box from th others hand and held it high above his head. "Well, maybe we should just put it back so you can get it on your own." He offered, tilting his head slightly.

981kb:

   Once again, Minjae found himself cursing customer service representatives. Or, at the very least, the system the worked under. Accessibility was supposed to be high on the customer satisfaction list, wasn’t it? And yet, here he was, practically scaling the shelves like a rock climber, long fingers outstretched, trying to grasp at the box of tissues that remained just out of his reach.

  It wasn’t until he had one foot on the lowest shelf, chest pressed up against box upon box of tissues (not the right kind, obviously) and had inhaled a mouthful of plastic wrap that he considered just asking an employee for help. He quickly dismissed the idea, however; he was already in too deep. He couldn’t just lose, damn it.

  And really, thinking about it more, it’s not the customer service representatives he should be blaming – they’re just doing their job, maximizing storage space, inventory,whatever – oh no, the ones he should be blaming are his parents for giving him these shitty genes. Surely they could have considered situations like this before procreating? What ever happened to choosing the mate that would produce the best offspring?

  Luckily, his suffering is over quickly, as the box of jumbo tissues (he liked to buy in bulk; so what?) was plucked from the shelf by nimble fingers, holding it out to him. Minjae looked up into the face of his (metaphorical) knight in shining armour and felt the air rush out of his chest in a soft oof.

  The guy was ridiculously good looking. Like, incredibly ridiculously good looking. Like, just-stepped-out-of-a-photoshoot-for-GQ-Magazine good looking, and Minjae was definitely staring. He was absolutely, one hundred percent staring at the curve of his jaw, the bow of his lips – god those fucking lips what the fuck – the way his eyes twinkled in amusement and Minjae’s obvious helplessness.

  He might have been staring a bit too hard, because it took him a second to register that the guy had spoken. He turned his eyes down towards his cart, the loops of fairy lights sitting curled at the bottom. He tried to think of a better response than, “This is the cheapest way to light an entire room using only one electrical socket” and, true to his literary genius, came up with a beautiful and eloquent response:

  “Uh…. They’re, um. I like them.”

  Shit. Searching desperately for a way to recover, his eyes landed on the other man’s cart, and he cocked an eyebrow instinctively.

  “Pink slippers?”

 With one look in his cart, Jackson realized he has no right to be judging the male. In fact, he was shocked that the other only chose the pink slippers to point out among the ridiculous amounts of usless junk. "Uh-" A hand rose the rub the back of his neck as his smile of amusement  quickly changed to one of embarrassment.

 Why was he embarrassed? He never got embarrassed. What was the point of getting embarrassed in front of strangers when he probably was never going to see them again? What if he wanted to see him again? Of course he didn't... But what if?

     981kb

 Why did he have to go get groceries? Hyorin knew full well that he hated doing it. It was so boring and everyone in the stupid house seemed to throw him 5 extra things the grab just as he was walking out the door. Needless to say, he was more than sulking as he stalked up and down the row, lazily throwing things into the cart as he passed them. 

Slippers (Make em’ pink) Three different kinds of white milk. (Joon’s curious) Oranges Toilet paper

Obscure Disney Starters

Status: Accepting