Island

It was already bad that his flight had been cancelled due to the bad weather.

Outside, thunders are parting the sky with bolts of light and the rain falls like a torrent, flooding the landings, hampering aircraft to take off. The forecast calls it a tropical storm; a sudden one that is delaying all his plans. 

Bad weather in Hawaii; it feels like a bad pun. But it’s true. He has been sitting there, on the waiting room in front of the boarding gate for over half an hour, waiting for a solution, for a way back to Korea. And yet, his luck is not on his side when he has to explain to the young man sitting next to him that he, too, has lost his flight. 

He really has lost it, missed it totally if only it wasn’t postponed. He arrived carrying three heavy suitcases and an uncountable amount of bags filled up to the top and had sat next to Jinwoo and waited to board despite the announcements, despite that it was clear that no flights were going to fly tonight. He had his ticket on his lap and was glancing at it from time to time. Jinwoo took pity on him, he was probably the only other Korean waiting there, the only one who he would understand. But the boy just sighed, relieved.

“So I didn’t miss it,” he said with a smirk. Jinwoo wanted to object, but let it go - he didn’t want to engage in any type of argument. Instead, he turned to watch the storm raging outside, listening to the droplets clash against the window, the wind brawling and the darkness painting the sky above his eyes. The boy relaxed and fished out his phone from one of the multiples bags hanging around his waist, reclined on the bench as if loosing the plane wasn't a big deal - it was a nightmare for Jinwoo who had to reschelude everything, from his work to the cats' caretaker and to call everybody to let them know that he was alright, stuck in Hawaii airport.

Today it’s not his day, he thinks while tossing on the plastic bench - uncomfortable. He scrolls down his phone and pretends to ignore the rest of the world - the rest of the world is crashing outside, uprooting palm trees and blackening the sunlight.

The man next to him is taking a call, but by the way he turns around Jinwoo guesses he is video calling or recording something - his long, veiny arms are moving everywhere and Jinwoo squishes himself to the corner just to prevent being hit on the face and, just in case, he ducks into the chair, head facing the crystal wall - outside it’s pouring rain, palm leaves swirling violently on the wind. Not a single plane has taken off in hours - not a single one will do so today; he doesn’t understand why the company hasn’t just sent them home instead of forcing them to stay (Jinwoo would have to stay the night here nevertheless since he has no money left to pay for a hotel room; he has used all his budget buying souvenirs from the local shops for his family and newborn nephew).  

Jinwoo checks the time; one hour and he is still waiting. At least he has his phone with him and the signal is good in here so, perhaps, he should take this moment to catch up with the dramas he has been so much neglected due to work. He plugs in his charger and gets comfortable on this rather cramped, plastic seat. He takes all the space he can, spreading his legs, his back on the wall and tries to leasure, momentary forgetting where he is and what's going on.

There are a lot of dramas to watch, he thinks with his finger tapping on the screen; but there is one in particular that he has been saving. He smiles at the phone while selecting the one with IU in it; he has been willing to see it but never found the time to just sit, relax and enjoy - not that this is the perfect environment to watch dramas but he hasn’t anything else to do to kill time. 

He is about to hit play when he feels it: a hand on his shoulder tugging him a little. On his feet lays chaos. All his seat partner's  bags are wide open, the contents spreading on the flagstone floor - there are laptops and tablets and too many cameras to count tangled with piles of crumpled clothes and other things Jinwoo doesn’t need to know. It’s as if a bomb has just exploded on his luggage and he is seeing the aftermath of its terror. The man has one hand fidgeting with a cord that doesn't match his phone and the other one on Jinwoo’s shoulder. 

“Can I borrow your charger?” his voice is deep and low; scanty dark hair - too damaged to be saved now, and soft, brown eyes - he feels warm in a way he can't explain. He is cute. Rudely cute. Illegal kind of cute - the type that melts hearts and put a giggle on the lips. Jinwoo smiles despite the question - he is mentally cursing at him because he is not going to lend him his electric twine, not when he needs it to fill up his own phone to watch IU’s drama. He is about to tell him to off but he is plain adorable, and Jinwoo can’t be crude - and how to say no to this boy? He is a er for cuteness and this person has too much, with his damaged hair and his warm eyes and soft grins. 

Jinwoo disconnects his phone and hands the charger to him who smiles at him as if the sun lived between his teeth. 

“Thanks,” he says, simply, taking it with a simper and shimmering eyes. “I thought I had it, but I must have forgotten,” he adds, pointing at the mess surrounding him. Jinwoo smiles back. It is just such a coincidence that he has brought with him his spare battery, fully charged, that will last one day. He takes it from his backpack and plugs his phone in - Jinwoo would never leave the house without getting through everything he daily needs, he always packs his stuff carefully. The man must have noticed, “you seem so organized!” it’s a compliment but coming from him, it sounds a bit like an insult but Jinwoo hasn’t the energy to take it at all - he only wants to go back to watch his drama.

The boy next seat returns to his video-call - or whatever - and Jinwoo feels save to push the play button. 

He is only through half the first episode but he senses eyes on him. It’s not only that someone is looking at him but the sensation of being observed fully, He is distraught but pretends to be ok - he doesn’t want to lose track of the plot, it’s getting quite intense. But the glares and stares are also becoming more vehement and he is disquieted - he feels exposed, vulnerable to these eyes gazing fixedly on him. It makes him uneasy, agitated.

Jinwoo turns around just to come across with the boy’s glance transfixed on his hands - the boy blinks, ashamed for a second, caught red-handed. He gives him a smirk, though, shameless, his eyes now dancing from Jinwoo’s phone to his face as if burning his shape behind his eyelids. He has been contemplating Jinwoo for a while; his hands, his face, the myriad od freckles painting his neck, his watercolour eyes, brown like a forest, splashed with all the stars of the universe. He has been gulping at the view of his spread, opened legs, he has been relishing on his flat stomach barely revealed. He has been wolfing him with his dark pupils just to end watching Jinwoo's phone screen with a beatifical grin.

“Isn’t it IU’s drama?” he asks, genuinely curious as if he hasn0t been prying over Jinwoo. Jinwoo brightens up - he is always delighted to find other IU’s fans. If he has to be interrupted, it better be by talking about Lee Jieun. If he has to be ogled by someone, this person better be a Uaena too. 

“Yes, it’s her latest work”, Jinwoo explains, excitedly. The boy smiles at him, gleaning. 

“Can I watch it with you?” Jinwoo nods; he doesn’t want to be churlish. “Oh! By the way, my name is Minho,” the boy says, ready to shake hands. Jinwoo follows suit.

“Jinwoo”.

“Such a pretty name, it matches you!” he points with a side smirk. He is smug but a cutie and Jinwoo let it slip without replying. This Minho guy seems a prat, but a nice one and the only Korean to hang around on this long wait he has ahead of him. And, maybe, he is a fan of what he loves, too so, why to be unpolite when he can be friendly instead? - even though this particular person has been staring at him, creeping Jinwoo out a bit but might it be his wild, tired imagination.

When Jinwoo resumes his business Minho draws up closer to him, violating all the laws about personal, private space. He is not only looking over his shoulder, but he is also literally on top of his junction, chin virtually hanging on his skin. But, at least, he is silent - it lasts a heartbeat.

“It’s Jihoon!” Minho exclaims, pointing at the figure standing at the edge of the screen. Might be a fan of him despite that Pyo Jihoon isn’t that well known as an actor. Jinwoo knows that because he is a big drama fan - and Jihoon has only had a few secondary roles. He must be a hardcore fan of dramas if he recognises him in just a frame, in a low-quality video. Jinwoo fancies him already - it's easy to forget how close he is to him, how his lips are pouting an inch away.

“Do you like dramas, too?” he wonders, expectantly. Maybe they can chat about their favourites ones - Jinwoo is in need to find new dramas to watch.

“Me? No. But Jihoon is my friend so I’ve to watch some to keep up with the friendship” he explains, smirking. Jinwoo is not Jihoon’s fan - this is the first time seeing him acting - but he is aware of him being an idol and Jinwoo doesn't know idols if they aren’t IU or GDragon. He is sure that Minho is bragging, showing off his closeness with someone famous, the little er - though he is no little, he is tall and board and looks dangerous overall. But when he smiles, and it seems like he is always smiling, he beams and he has sparkling eyes and half of Jinwoo's heart because he is adorable even when he is breathing inches away from his air and his hands landed on his leg and he is taking too many liberties with someone he has just met. 

Jinwoo is about to slap his creeping hands when he chuckles and it sounds so nice, so good, he forgets half motion and Minho’s hands get away with it, touching the play button - and with IU in action, Jinwoo forgets everything. 

It is obvious that Minho isn’t into watching dramas quietly; he points out stuff and never shuts up about Jihoon. By the end of the second episode, Jinwoo has heard enough about them both to write a book and the clock ticks ten and it adds four hours since his flight was supposed to leave. Not that it matters now; he is stuck in the airport next to a bluster who is ruining the only good thing he has to occupy himself. What it appears that Minho is into is annoying Jinwoo - his head has nestled in the crook of his neck, his fingers have been brushing his, his lips have nearly touched his skin and, on top of all, he has kept interrupting IU’s speech (Jinwoo has never replayed one scene so many times before; Minho is distracting, Minho is a bother but he can’t find the courage to talk him off in order to not look like a whiner).

Jinwoo listens to anything that Minho says and, somehow, he finds himself moiety amused and moiety enchanted. Mayhaps it is the music of his voice that is so soothing, maybe it’s because he makes him laugh and he hasn’t in a while - a long while now. It doesn’t matter; Jinwoo halts the drama again and this time he isn’t half-mad but, instead, thrilled to hear what Minho has to explain. Most of what Minho says turns out to be just praised towards Jinwoo - and Jinwoo blushes adorably and Minho wants for nothing but to pain his cheeks with hues of rosy. By now Jinwoo is fully immersed in Minho's life; he is an idol just like Jihoon, his best friend since high school. They were about to debut together but fate wasn’t taking it so Minho was sent off only to debut with a different group a few years later. And Jinwoo is still unfamiliar with idols and entertainment agencies but he has learned YG’s staff and Minho’s team and pets names. By heart. 

Jinwoo is still non-committed to all this idol stuff but gives up on watching dramas by the end of the second episode because he can do it peacefully back at home - where he can’t listen to Minho complaining, making a fuss out of his friend’s acting or laughing his off at any gushy, sappy or mushy line. 

It’s twelve when the flight company decides to send them home and Jinwoo feels like Cinderella after the ball, all the excitement wears off. He has no place to go so he curls on the bench, getting ready for bed. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow the storm will be over and he will be on his way back. 

Minho is standing next to him. For a moment Jinwoo thinks he is finally giving back his charger, but instead he is waiting for him. 

“Hyung, we have to go,” he says, worried.

“I have nowhere to go,” Jinwoo says, yawning. Without the weight of the waiting, he feels his bones melting with tire and as uncomfortable as this seat is, he knows he’ll fall flat asleep as soon as the lights go off. 

“Let’s find a hotel together!” he sounds so cheerful as if missing a flight meant nothing. For Jinwoo it means taking an extra day off work, leaving his cats on the kennel one more day, troubles, expenses he can’t afford. And, yet, he lets Minho drags him out of the airport and buckled him inside a taxi, riding to the nearest spot. He wants this day to end, he wants to close his eyes and, maybe, dream about Minho.

It’s not until they arrive at the fourth hotel that they have finally luck. It’s a 5* Hotel and Jinwoo is already thinking of ways to keep his savings afloat - there is no way, he is going to waste them in just one night. 

It comes clear when Jinwoo looks at the invoice. But this is the last room vacant and Minho is adamant that they should take it - despite the cost, despite that it's a queen-size bed and they aren't that close, not remotely close to share one mattress. 

“It might be the last room in the whole island,” he states, seriously, wallet ready to pay. He might be right but Jinwoo can’t bankroll it - it is too much of a luxury, he’d better sleep out on the heavy rain. He sighs.

“Minho, I can’t afford it,” he murmurs much to Minho’s delight. He grins and beams and pats Jinwoo’s back.

“But I do,” he replies simply. Of course, he can, being a whole idol. But what about being caught? Minho brushes it off “I’m not that famous outside Korea,” he says, still grinning. Jinwoo tries to convince him that this is a bad, terrible idea, but Minho doesn’t budge. Minho insists and persists until Jinwoo has to say it.

“I can’t repay you,” Jinwoo confesses, giving in. 

“I’m just enjoying your company enough, no need to give me more,” he says, blinking. “Now, hyung, let’s go to our room”.