Part 2 - Chapter 13
I Wanna LoveA/N: My editor had her baby! And now she's off taking care of a newborn. So I edited this chapter myself again, disclaimer for any obvious mistakes I miss.
13
The washing machine beside Niel rumbled as it finished filling and began to oscillate the clothes. He was perched on its twin, staring absently out the window of the laundromat. He wasn’t really seeing the outside though, the busy intersection or people walking by made no impact. He was daydreaming.
Since telling Chanhee the whole story Niel had begun to replay the scene more frequently. Giddiness swirling in his stomach every time he did.
The club was dark and hot. Niel was about 5 drinks past drunk and Jilly was at home, asleep because she had an early shift the next morning. He knew Byunghun and Chanhee were somewhere nearby but he wasn't sure where they were. His head whirled and his legs screamed for him to sit down. To stop dancing for just a moment. But his brain urged him to just wait, he loved this song, they would stop after this song. But he loved the next one too.
Eventually his legs won out and Niel struggled out of the crowd. As he broke free of the floor he crashed into another patron, their drink soaking him and the floor.
"What the man! Oh my God you ing idiot!" The thuggish man yelled in Niel's face.
"Sorry. I'm sorry!" Niel yelled in reply.
"You will be, ing punk." His orckish head turned and mumbled something about being in a ing gay bar to his friend before turning back to Niel. "Buy me and my friend a new drink," He ordered.
"Uh. I guess." Niel slurred, stumbling toward the bar and bumping the guy again.
"This ing punk..." Without warning Niel's antagonist drew his hand back to swing a punch. Niel was frozen in place by fear. Waiting for the pain.
It didn't come. Instead a pleasantly deep voice sounded from the side.
"What exactly do you think you're doing?" The baritone yelled over the music.
"Teaching this skinny a lesson. What do you care?" The thug replied glancing over at the newcomer.
"I think you should just leave instead."
Niel looked up at his rescuer. He wasn't tall exactly but certainly intimidating, holding the thugs arm in place with one of his own. Wearing all back, worn combat boots and jeans. His hair was long but braided and held back by a set of goggles. He should have looked ridiculous. But he looked scary. Through the open sides of his singlet, hard muscle showed.
With the odds evened, Niel's bully lost interest.
"Whatever man. Just watch yourself," He growled before moving past to his waiting girlfriend
"Uh. Thanks. Thank you. For that." Niel stammered. Still waiting for the impact of a punch. The stranger shrugged, eyes now busily appraising Niel.
"Are you ok?" he asked, his voice sending strange sensations through Niel's intoxicated mind. He nodded mutely in reply. "Good. Did you want to go and dry off a little?" Niel nodded again, turning toward the bathrooms. His saviour easily following along behind.
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Changhyun awoke alone in his bed. He was and spreadeagled diagonally across the mattress. His head was aching and he felt increasingly queasy as he rolled over and sat up. He squinted as he looked around the room.
Where is Jong?
His partner was nowhere to be seen. With considerable effort, Changhyun climbed out of bed and shuffled to the lounge. It was empty too. He scowled. Turning on his heel he made for the bathroom. Jonghyun wasn’t in there either. Changhyun was too hung-over for reasonable thought. Instead, he started the shower and stepped under the water. Jong would be here somewhere.
When he stepped out of the water almost half an hour later he felt slightly better. His stomach was still tumbling like a dryer but his headache had receded to a dull throb. Changhyun stopped at the basin, he should shave… he continued into the bedroom instead.
On the pillow he spied a slip of paper folded in two. With a painful shake of his own stupid head he crossed and grabbed Jonghyun’s note.
This is in case you forget because you got so drunk last night. I’m going to work this morning. I finish at 3. I’ll come by and we can have dinner. Drink the water and take the paracetamol I left for you. I love you xoxo
Work. Changhyun’s brain whined, Stupid work. I want my Jonghyun! And a coffee.
He would head down to the café and get both!
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It was Byunghun’s day off, he sat on the low wall at the basketball courts staring intently at the rubber of his basketball. Friday night had been a huge wakeup call. He had been scared and alone and stuck in the apartment wondering where Chanhee was. None of his text messages received a reply and he didn’t have the guts to call.
When Chanhee had returned home he gave an offhand reply; out to dinner with a friend. Byunghun couldn’t argue with that, whenever Chanhee wanted to meet a friend for dinner he didn’t even bother inviting Byung anymore. Byunghun had made it clear that he had no desire to meet new people or attend pointless social gatherings.
When did I become such an ? Byunghun wondered idly. He knew the answer. He had always been this way. Lately he was worse though. Byunghun knew he needed to change things, he’d known for a while now, however knowing and doing were two different things.
He looked up at the blue sky. Where was Chan now? Was he thinking of Byunghun? Did he still love him? He hoped he still had time to fix things.
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It was a pretty quiet Sunday afternoon, the only customers in the café were those hanging around from the lunch rush. Lola was in the kitchen talking to Jinsu and Elton. Youngjin was in the office catching up on paperwork between coffee orders. Jonghyun was alone front of house and waiting for customers. Trying to stifle the pain in his feet, he gazed out the large windows opposite him. He should not have gone out drinking and dancing last night. Nor should he have continued his exertions at home with Changhyun. He was paying for it now; all he wanted to do was sit down for a long time.
The café door swung open and Jonghyun straightened, trying to shake his fatigue. The customer was a young man, probably around Jong’s age. He wore a charcoal turtleneck and grey slacks, a designer blazer over the top in deep red velvet. The man moved as though the clothes were a second skin. He had some serious style. He smiled brightly at Jonghyun but his eyes were cold. Stopping just short of the register he eyed Jonghyun up and down critically.
“Hi, can I help you?” Jonghyun asked, keeping the confusion from his tone.
“Ah. You’re Choi Jonghyun aren’t you?” The customer asked, his voice was bright and clear but Jonghyun sensed a sharp edge to it – like broken glass.
“Um. Yeah, that’s me.” Jonghyun was bemused.
“Hmph.” The noise was almost a scoff.
“Can I help you?” Jonghyun asked again.
“Yeah.” The man suddenly changed to Korean, leaning forward in a conspiratorial manner, Jonghyun leant in too. “You can remember just one thing for me.” His language was formal but the tone was deadly soft. “Lee Byunghun might have warmed up to you. But he’s been with me for the last 10 years. I’d give up. Now. Otherwise we’ll have another chat. And I won’t be so pleasant.”
Jonghyun was frozen, shock echoing through his system.
The customer, clearly Byunghun’s boyfriend, straightened once more and smiled (it was so close to convincing Jonghyun was even more nervous).
“I’ll see you around Choi Jonghyun.” He muttered in English before turning on his heel and leaving the café.
What the actual ?
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