Title: More Like King of Hypocrisy

Rating: PG

Word count: 1187

Prompt: Okay I got a prompt! They’re moving flats (or just cleaning out, whatever works with the au) and Minho is trying to throw out all the junk and Jjong keeps snagging stuff and trying to keep it because we might NEED this or oh this is too cute to throw out….etc hehe – from the lovely JungMiChan (thanks for the support, hun <3)

Honestly, Minho thinks their apartment is just fine as it is. He knows where everything is; knows where the food is, knows where the toilet is, knows where the bed is (and if that’s off-limits, knows where the couch is). Okay, so he knows where all the important stuff is, but that’s alright because he’s got Jonghyun if he needs anything else.

Apparently, it’s not so alright.

“Minho-yah,” is Jonghyun’s quiet demand as he stands a little off to the side of the couch. Minho hums in reply, eyes fixed on the TV.

“Minho-yah,” Jonghyun tries again, drawing out the last syllable. Minho responds with an equally drawn out hum (and okay, he might be mocking Jonghyun a bit).

“Yah! Don’t you dare, Min.” Jonghyun resituates himself in front of the digital display with dangerously narrowed eyes. Minho frowns at him, then sighs and pulls himself up in a sitting position (and he presses the mute button for good measure because Jonghyun is going to have his head if he doesn’t grant him his undivided attention).

Jonghyun keeps a steadfast eye-lock as he says, “we’re cleaning up.”

“What?” Now it’s Minho’s turn to narrow his eyes.

“You heard me, Choi. Get up and get going, we’re cleaning this place.”

Jonghyun’s already halfway down the hall when Minho finally manages to gather his thoughts. “Whoa, wait, why?”

Jonghyun sighs as if Minho’s a stubborn child who just won’t shut up (Minho thinks it’s completely unjustified). “I can’t find anything anymore. I mean, look at this mess!” he gestures to a pile of outdated magazines, “why do we even still have these? We’re going to clean out and that’s final.”

And that’s how, for the next hour, Minho finds himself rummaging through the boxes on the top shelves in their bedroom (“Is this because you can’t reach?” “No, I just want to do the kitchen first.” “Right.”), dumping all kinds of weird stuff in the rapidly growing Junk Pile.

He decides to take a well-deserved bathroom break when he’s done (cleaning is exhausting, it really is).

When he comes back, there’s something off about his pile. Though it’s just as big a mess as before, something definitely seems to have changed. Now that Minho thinks about it, surely, a few things from the last box are missing.

He goes to check the boxes because maybe he just thought wrong, but they’re not there either. Minho then sets off to the bathroom with a slight frown to see if he brought them there (it’s every unlikely but possible nonetheless). On his way, he casts a quick glance inside the kitchen to the sight of a pile only a fraction the size of his own and a very busy-looking Jonghyun.

Minho is about to shrug it off  and continue when something in the corner of his eye has him halting completely. Because there, on the kitchen counter next to Jonghyun, lie the missing stuff from Minho’s pile, proud and mocking.

"Jjong,” he deadpans, “why’re these in here?”

Jonghyun turns on his heels abruptly, a hand clutching he chest area of his shirt. “Minho,” he breathes, “don’t do that, Jesus.” (Minho told him he’d go deaf from turning the volume in his headphones all the way up; there was no way he couldn’t have heard him coming in)

Minho points at the should-have-been-waste on the counter. “What is this stuff doing here?”

Jonghyun’s brows disappears under his fringe. “Oh, that. I rescued it before your naughty hands could throw it out.”

“Jjong.”

“What?”

“It’s junk.”

And then Jonghyun’s brows are back to his usual frown. “It’s not.”

“It is,” he sighs, already picking it up to go throw it in the Junk Pile again.

“Hey, stop!” Jonghyun grabs a hold of his arm before he can even make it out of the kitchen (which is a wonder because Jonghyun’s arms are really short). “Give those back, I’m not throwing it out.”

The look on Minho’s face is one of sheer incredulity. “Jjong, we discarded these phones and power cords ages ago, why do we still have them? And have you ever even read this book? And what is this, a happy birthday card from your twelfth birthday?”

“For starters, it’s from my eighteenth birthday, mind you,” Jonghyun starts snagging everything back, one by one. “And who knows when someone is going to need a power cord, Minho, it’s common knowledge to never throw these things out. And I’ve actually been planning on reading this, thank you very much.” He ends with a huff.

“Yeah, since when? Three years ago?” Minho snorts.

Jonghyun, being the stubborn child he is, doesn’t answer and makes to go back to rummaging through cupboards. Minho rolls his eyes, opening their junk drawer for a quick check, which has his face contorting in confusion.

“Have you gone through this?”

Jonghyun glances back. “Yeah.”

Minho let’s out a sound of disbelief. “I thought you wanted to clean out.”

“I am cleaning out.” Jonghyun crosses his arms defiantly.

“What? Jjong, this is overflowing! These receipts are from last year!” (Minho doesn’t particularly care if his outrage is unjustified.)

“If you don’t like my way of cleaning you can go somewhere else,” Jonghyun dismisses with his nose higher than the clouds. That’s the final blow for Minho and he can practically hear the snap of the last thread of his patience resonate in his head.

“This is ridiculous.” Minho rips a bin bag of the roll and shoves the stupid happy birthday card and the stupid power cords and the stupid book in it with brutal force. He can hear Jonghyun yelling at his back as he makes his way down the hall to the bedroom to discard the rest of his waste pile before Jonghyun can get his hands on it.

“Yah, what do you think you’re doing?” Jonghyun screeches from the bedroom doorway.

“What does it look like? I’m cleaning.” Minho tries to shove things faster (which is not very successful because the bag chooses to be adamantly uncooperative at that very moment).

Hands come down to tug at the stuffed dog he’s mercilessly forcing down the bag and Jonghyun’s practically screaming, “no, Minho, let go, you can’t,” and Minho decides that a tug war is far too much trouble right now, so he let’s go, Jonghyun tumbling back (timber, Minho mocks in his head).

When Jonghyun pulls up in a sitting position, he’s clutching the toy close to his chest. “Minho, what the hell are you thinking? You can’t throw this out!”

Minho blinks. “It looks like Roo.”

“Exactly,” (exactly, they should just throw it out, Minho thinks,) “it’s too adorable; we can’t let it end up in the trash.” Jonghyun sounds too determined to listen to reason. Minho sighs, heavy and burdened, and rubs his temple in an I’m-giving-up-what-do-you-want-from-me manner.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me?” Jonghyun tries to hide his grin behind the toy dog though his eyes give away his ever-daring mischief.

Minho groans and rubs harder, dreading the upcoming headache he can feel at the back of his head.

A/N: I can just imagine Minho going like this in his mind

God, Jongho quarrels are just, I can't, guys. These two are going to be the death of me someday, no doubt.

So, first prompt! And omg. sweety, I’m sososo sorry, I really wanted this to be up yesterday but I had to do something and when I finally got some free time today, I’ve been adamant on getting this done. But here you have it, and so do the rest of you :D

I have no idea how it got this long and idk about the ending, but I hope you enjoy.

(And if anyone's wondering about the title, it's referring to Jonghyun being the alleged 'King of Skinship'. Sorry, I at titles >_<.)

To all my lovely subscribers! I know you are few, but you are well appreciated and your comments make me go giddy and spluttering (I'm not even joking). Thank you for your support, and stay tuned, 'cause this adventure have barely even begun.

Latest edit: July 10^th, 2016