2. Admit When You’re Wrong

Even if you’re right sometimes, just don’t argue.

Jinki has always prided himself on his sense of responsibility and infallible memory – especially concerning schedules and events. He has never promised anything that he didn’t manage to fulfill and, naturally, he has never offered any wrongful information or forgotten specifics like where he needs to be at what time or how to go there. If Jinki wasn’t so inherently modest and polite, he’d even go the extent of claiming that it was a quite impressive and respectable trait.

Tonight, Jinki promised he’d take Jonghyun to the theaters. He knew he’d be working late at the clinic because despite his boss, Mr. Im, being the utmost kindest man Jinki had ever had the pleasure to become acquainted with, he had been unable to find a substitute for Jinki. Of course, Jinki worked his way around it, choosing a late movie, which granted him enough time for a shower and a light supper before they’d have to go. That’s exactly what he told Jonghyun earlier that week.

So when Jinki saunters in the door while shrugging off his coat at seven-thirty, he isn’t quite sure why he finds a frenzied Jonghyun digging the blunt nails of his fingers into the fabric of his pale blue button-down covering his shoulders.

“Where the hell have you been?” he spits at Jinki, thick brows pulled together worriedly.

“At the clinic?” Jinki offers consolingly while wearing an uncomprehending grin, bowing down as Jonghyun’s expression morphs from worry to frustration to exasperation. Jinki loosens the laces on his patent leather shoes to tug them off, stuffing his feet into his plush, mint-colored house slippers with a relieved sigh as he straightens his back again only to level himself with Jonghyun’s riled eyes.

“The clinic? Are you serious, Jinki?” Jonghyun barks, throwing his hands in the air theatrically, and Jinki’s lips does a weird quirk to stifle his grin. “The movie starts in, like, forty-five minutes, and you’re coming home now? Straight from work?”

Jinki’s brows fly up to hide beneath his bangs then. “What do you mean? The movie’s set for a quarter past nine; we’ve got loads of time.” The redhead treks through the apartment and into the kitchen area of their joint kitchen and living room for his usual quick fridge check-up, Jonghyun not far behind.

“Jinki,” the brunette enunciates with irritable carefulness, searching Jinki’s eyes as the doctor turns around. “The movie starts at a quarter past eight. You told me so yourself.”

Scrunching his nose, Jinki runs his fingers through his bangs contemplatively. “I checked up on it earlier , Jjong, and I’m pretty sure-“

“We’re going to miss the movie if we keep wasting time,” Jonghyun cuts in with a frustrated puff of air, adamancy blazing like fire in his brown eyes.

Jinki knows he’s right about the time; he was the one to choose it, after all. The shield of blind obstinacy Jonghyun guards himself with should only serve to incite fury from Jinki’s hurt pride, especially from a challenge daring enough to defy his sense of memory. But as Jinki takes in the way Jonghyun’s nostrils have widened slightly and how he’s staring up at the redhead from underneath his lashes in that unrelenting manner, the only feelings that’s boiling and slashing at his insides if that of endearment. There’s something so undefinably Jonghyun about this stubbornness that makes Jinki drop his guard and all he can let out is a soft, “alright, let me just change real quick,” while he’s already ing the cuffs of his sleeves.

--

When they arrive at the theaters, they’re more than an hour early. Jonghyun whines audibly but doesn’t mention the fact that Jinki was right, and Jinki doesn’t mention it to save the brunette from further mortification. He doesn’t mind too much though because as they venture out to find supper for Jinki, and as Jonghyun complains about uselessly rushing home from work to prepare himself for today, and as they confine themselves to  a bench for mindless people-watching to pass time, Jonghyun presses himself noticeably closer and lets his touch linger for that second too long, and Jinki’s heart flutters delightfully from every gesture.

But what really strikes Jinki comes in the theater. Trailers for upcoming movies are still running when Jonghyun reaches over for his hand, running his coarse thumb over the backside and giving a gentle squeeze as he whispers, “I’m sorry,” into Jinki’s ear, and the doctor knows that he is irrevocably and irredeemably in love.

A/N: Hey, guess who's back!

I am sorry guys, truly, you don't even know. It's just, life, man, life. It's so damn stressful.

And like, I know that's my excuse every time (at least if there are any RoH readers here, you'll know), but I really feel that I have no say in what happens in my life sometimes. Honestly. I can't even tell you half of the stuff I'm doing because there's just so much. Damn.

Anyway. Actually, another reason I haven't been writing is that I've been more into angst lately so I tried completing my angsty fic, and well, no, didn't turn out so well. Now I got into a super fluffy mood and it's like cotton candy and ponies ting rainbows and boys in pink everywhere. Like, . (Warning: Initiating fluffy gif spam because holy I need to let this out.)

This fluffy Key w/ teddy.

This Onho that slays all ships.

Minho's fail aegyo that's plain adorable.

This 2min for obvious reasons.

This absolutely delicious Ondrew.

These girly dorks, omfg.

Minho's smile /dead.

And, by all means, of course, my precious Jongyu.

;-;

I have much more gifs but I think enough is enough for now.

And this fic is in severe need of editing, *sigh*.

OH! I also updated last chapter and personally, I think the Jongyu dynamics are much better now. Pls read? ^-^

Anyway, yep. That's that. I think I'm gonna go now. Have a wonderful night (or day or morning or whatever) and eat healthily and don't keep yourselves too busy because it's a really bad idea, taken from recent personal experience ^-^;

Thanks for sticking around and I hope my fluffy mood will prompt more frequent updates. bye <3