Just a couple of short drabbles! :)

bad hair day

Jongwoon looked up when his boyfriend walked in the door and immediately stopped what he was doing, instead staring at the younger man for a full minute before he burst out laughing.

Ryeowook frowned, folding his arms over his chest as he flung himself in an armchair in the living room. “Shut up, hyung.”

“Oh, Wook, what happened?” Jongwoon crawled over to the armchair, reaching out and running his fingers through Ryeowook’s neon-blue, unevenly cut hair in amazement.

“I went to a new place. I don’t think the hairdresser was as fluent in Korean as she said she was. Or as proficient at cutting hair. I told her I wanted a lighter brown and I got this stupid blue. She murdered my hair and I got laughed at on my way home. And at home.”

“Awww, don’t be like that! You know I love you, my little blueber—OW!”

“Don’t you even think about calling me a blueberry, you son of a ,” Ryeowook growled, whacking Jongwoon’s arm a second time as he pushed himself out of the chair and wondered down the hallway. “And I’ve already made an appointment to get this fixed. I’m wearing your hats until then,” he called, disappearing into the bathroom.

Jongwoon stared after him and smiled, leaning back on his hands as Kkoming jumped into his lap. He glanced down at his puppy. “It is kinda cute though. Maybe I should dye my hair to match?” Kkoming barked loudly, stretching out across his lap; he laughed. “You’re right, girl. He’d kill me.”

Ryeowook stuck his head out of the bathroom, a towel hanging loosely from his waist. “Are you gonna come in here and pretend to help me with my futile attempt to scrub the blue out of my hair or not?”

Jongwoon immediately pushed Kkoming out of his lap, jumping to his feet and dashing down the hallway. “Coming, Mr. Blueberry—OW!”

artists

Jongwoon wasn’t sure why he let his friends drag him to the gallery opening. He wasn’t much of an art guy, really. He was a fairly decent pianist because his mom had forced him into lessons when he was younger, and he’d always been able to sing, but he wasn’t much of a paint-on-a-canvas, charcoal-smeared-on-paper kind of guy. He sighed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he wandered around the gallery, his eyes flickering over the paintings quickly. When he got to the back of the gallery, off in a corner where no one seemed to stand, he stopped, finding himself staring at one small painting.

The canvas was small, probably only a little bigger than a sheet of paper, so he took a step forward to see it better, somehow fascinated by it. He followed the delicate brushstrokes with his eyes, darting around the small scene, finding all of the little details endlessly fascinating. The brushstrokes looked like he’d always imagined musical notes would look if they had a physical form instead of just audible tones and they danced across the canvas, telling a story that he desperately wanted to know more of.

“Do you like it?”

He jumped slightly at the soft voice to his left and he turned, only to be met with a quiet laugh.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. Do you like it?”

Jongwoon nodded slowly, his eyes flickering back and forth between the small painting and the small man now standing beside him.

“You’re the first person I’ve seen really looking at this painting. Most people just gloss over it.”

Something clicked and Jongwoon finally turned his attention entirely to this new man. “You painted it.”

If the man was surprised, he didn’t show it. He just nodded. “I did. No one else has guessed that either. How’d you know?”

Jongwoon cracked a grin. “Your paint look like your voice sounds. Besides…” He laughed, pointing to the man’s nametag. “Your name’s on the painting too.”

The artist – Ryeowook – blinked once before he laughed as well. “Well, you know my name. What’s yours?”

“Jongwoon.”

“Jongwoon,” Ryeowook repeated slowly. “I like it. It sounds like a painting.” He held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Jongwoon.”

The taller man took his hand, shaking it firmly. “It’s nice to meet you too, Ryeowook.”

Maybe he’d have to start coming to gallery openings more often.