xiuchen - candlelit dinners
Ficlet eryPrompt: domestic xiuchen
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Minseok wasn’t always one to get upset, but Jongdae understands why he is now. How could he not? They were standing in the middle of their completely darkened apartment all because he had not paid the electricity bill. He feels shame well up inside of him.
“I can’t believe you.”
“I’m sorry!”
“Really, Jongdae.”
“Minseok-”
“This is the second time this week you’ve supposedly ‘forgotten’ something.”
“I’m sorry…”
“No, okay? I’m tired of how irresponsible you’ve been.”
Something curls inside Jongdae, deep in his chest at Minseok’s words. He swallows down the bitterness that starts to build - or at least, tries to. It claws its way back up in the form of sharp words, blunt and clear.
“You know I have a lot on my plate right now. This is only the first time I haven’t paid it.”
“I’m dealing with a lot of stuff too, Jongdae, but do you see the water shutting off? The landlord kicking us out? No, because I got those bills in on time.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I just - just - please, don’t make this a big deal.”
“I’ve had a long, tiring day at a job I don’t even like. I want to at least come home to some electricity, you know?”
“I know, okay. I’m sorry.”
Minseok is quiet then, only letting out a frustrated sigh. "Let's just - eat some sandwiches or something and go to bed."
Jongdae hates that resigned tone in his voice, that trace of disappointment. This is not how this night was supposed to have gone, he thinks, but honestly - how did he expect this to go?
As per usual routine, Minseok makes Jongdae's sandwich, and Jongdae makes Minseok's. Even in the dark and even when there is this vague icy tension between them, neither of them are the type to disregard tradition despite the circumstances. Jongdae is at least thankful for this.
Afterwards, Minseok lights several tall wax candles with a lighter, setting them in the middle of the dinner table. They've been quiet since they'd started on "dinner", and this makes Jongdae feel uneasy. He decides not to linger on it too much as they offer their respective sandwiches to each other. Jongdae tries to smile at Minseok, but the other is not even looking at him, taking his sandwich and sitting at one end of the table - all with a rigid tension in his shoulders.
They eat silently, the firelight casting shadows all along the dark room. Jongdae can barely handle the quiet between them. It’s unbearable. Typically, they are the sort of couple that can sit in silence, not needing to talk to the other to understand that their presence is appreciated. Now, however, he feels restless, knowing the underlying reason of it all.
Across the table, Jongdae starts to notice that Minseok is letting himself relax, shoulders falling. There’s an indecipherable look in his eyes, and he’s biting his bottom lip, looking unsure. Jongdae means to ask what’s bothering him, but the older is speaking before he can.
“This is actually pretty nice,” Minseok says, soft and meager. Almost ashamed. An apology of sorts.
The corner of Jongdae’s lip quirks up, glad they’re getting somewhere. “I know,” he says, equally quiet. “We should do this more often. Candlelit dinners.”
“It would be even better if we had something more refined than sandwiches.”
“Don’t diss sandwiches,” Jongdae says, though there is mirth in his tone. “They’re god’s gift.”
The beginnings of a grin makes its way to Minseok’s lips, “Okay, but you have to admit that sandwiches are less romantic than, say, spaghetti. You get mustard everywhere.”
“With spaghetti, you get sauce everywhere.”
“Not necessarily!” Minseok defends. “You use utensils at least.”
“Eat your sandwich,” Jongdae responds rather absurdly, grinning at Minseok through the candle flames. The firelight hits Minseok just right, flickering shades of orange and yellow onto his returned smile.
They fall into a silence again - but this is much preferred. This one is hardly quiet if you count the small, meaningful smiles shot across the table. This silence is kind, and sweet, and Jongdae is feeling a bit better about it all. Suddenly, he is reminded of what tonight was initially meant to be, and his heart jolts in his chest.
He battles with himself. Does it feel right? This moment? He thinks it does. They may be eating sandwiches in the middle of a darkened apartment, but Jongdae and Minseok have never been the sophisticated sort of couple anyway.
“I didn’t forget to pay the electric bill,” Jongdae starts.
Minseok chews, darting his gaze up at Jongdae before speaking through a full mouth. “The darkness around us contradicts your claim.”
The younger chuckles. “I mean, I purposely didn’t pay it. The electric bill.”
Minseok’s brow shoots up, arched in question, swallowing his bite before gesturing for Jongdae to explain.
“I was putting that money towards something else,” he says, anxiously picking the bread crumbs off his sandwich. He feels as if his nerves are on fire, not daring to meet Minseok's gaze across the table. The silence is palpable between them, and the words linger on Jongdae's tongue, but the fear in him is holding them back.
"Something else?" Minseok questions. It's only then that Jongdae finally looks up, looking his long-time boyfriend straight in the eye. He realizes then, that this is much easier than he thought it would be. Seeing his face, and remembering how much he loves him, how much he loves to peck all along those cheeks when they're being silly, how much he loves the warmth and affection in those beautiful eyes every morning as they wake up - it makes this so much easier than he had feared.
And so with a bated breath, Jongdae rises from his chair.
He takes slow, immeasurable steps around the table, fingers tracing along the edge of it as he moves, the gentlest of smiles adorned on his face. Minseok watches him with curious eyes, brows perked up in awareness.
"Kim Minseok," he says shakily, and damn it, he's totally giving himself away. "I'm, uh, about to get really cheesy."
At this, Minseok smiles a little, eyes softening though still laced with curiosity.
"I love you. So much. You know that, don't you?"
Minseok grins again, before responding. "Of course, dork."
"Okay," Jongdae says under his breath, gathering himself. "Well, I want to prove it. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. Officially. I can't go a day without seeing your smile, and when - when we fight I feel like nothing's right in the world. But the best feeling is the one afterwards, when we make up, because it reminds me that we're in this to the end. That no matter what we deal with, we'll always have each other and we'll always fight for each other."
"Jongdae, we had a small argument over the bill. Not that big a deal," Minseok says, though there's a playful edge to his voice. The younger laughs.
"Whatever, okay - it still made me feel bad. I just - hate when we're on bad terms."
"It was, like, ten minutes ago."
"I know, but still, okay. Don't interrupt me. This is a potentially life-changing moment here. Anyway - I love you. I really love you. I've never been sure of anything else.Would you - would you please..."
Jongdae kneels, heart threatening to jump out of his chest. He wills himself to calm down, wills his hands to stop shaking as they reach into his coat pocket.
"Yes," Minseok is saying suddenly.
Jongdae is only mid-way to pulling the box out when he darts his gaze up at Minseok. "What?"
"Yes," Minseok is saying again, only softer now. He's starting to stand from his chair then, bringing a hand to Jongdae's elbow to lift him from the ground as well.
It's only when they're both standing, a mere inch apart, that Minseok clarifies. "I'll marry you."
There's that look in his eyes that Jongdae so loves - that piercing warmth and affection that runs all along Jongdae's nerves, igniting a fire in his gut. It's never failed to make him weak in the knees, no matter how long they've been together.
Minseok's hand falls from Jongdae's elbow to his own, fingers entangling themselves into his. "You really disregarded the bill just to buy a ring?" he asks with an amused smile. His other hand begins to creep into Jongdae's pocket then, searching around until grabs ahold of the box.
"I'm supposed to give it you," he says, a bit of a whine.
Minseok is chuckling then, low and lovely. "I love you. Okay? I'm sorry about earlier."
"I love you too, cheeseball."
"Cheeseball? You're the one who had the whole romantic speech.”
“It wasn’t romantic. Just the truth.”
Minseok hums, stepping closer until his toes brushes Jongdae’s. “And you say you’re not the cheeseball.”
Jongdae can’t find it in himself to respond. Instead, he seals their lips together in a promise, wrapping a fist around the fabric of Minseok’s shirt.
“Just -” Minseok gasps when they part, “- promise me you’ll talk to me before you decide to not pay the electric bill so I could do it at least.”
Jongdae chuckles again, leaning in for another quick peck. “Promise.”
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rip sorry for the trash
- julia
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