The Guys Next Door 3/?
The Guys Next DoorWhen Jinki had lived with his parents, waking up to the sound of slamming cupboards and dishes clanking had been quite a normal occurrence. It took him a good twenty minutes, a flight on a winged wolf’s back, and a dip in what he was sure was some fruit flavored yoghurt ocean to realize that he wasn’t back home, and that the noises invading his dreams from the waking world, were, in fact, coming from his very poorly furnished kitchen in his very own apartment.
This realization had him groaning. The clanking most likely meant Minho had come back from his early morning run and hadn’t been able to wait till Jinki woke to eat.
Jinki was usually the one to cook. They had decided a week ago, after a melted pan handle and some very deep charred pork skin, that Minho was better suited to ordering out while cooking would be left to Jinki.
They’d had raman the whole rest of the week.
He was still expanding his repertoire of recipes.
Jinki rolled from his bed, tripping on various articles of clothing -- some his, some not -- on the way to his door. He yanked it open sloppily and managed to run the bottom of the door over the top of his bare foot, leaving a trail of scraped skin and fire.
Jinki contorted in pain, silent cursing and breathless gasping escaping his mouth in a choking diatribe of anger and agony.
This was all Minho’s fault.
Jinki Caught his breath and expelled it in a furious roar. “Do you want to die, Choi Minho!?”
Jinki, if you ask Minho, is the kindest, sweetest, most overly soft and loveable of best friends. But, if you ask Minho, he will also tell you that Jinki is only ever himself after a generous liter of coffee and at least a half decent shower.
After Jinki’s shout of rage, all within the apartment grew quiet, save for some muted bass sub-sonically thumping from the apartment next door and through his skull.
Jinki limped his way down the short hall, past Minho’s shut door and the bathroom, the sink full of their dishes from the day before. When he reached the end of the hall he stopped to catch his breath and settle his mood.
It wasn’t Minho in the kitchen.
There was a boy sitting on their counter and a hobbit paused in what appeared to be a thorough search through the kimchi fridge.
A hobbit or a large dog… Jinki needed his glasses.
“Oh hey,” the boy on the counter drawled, “you must be Jinki. I’m Lee Taemin, I live with Mr. Kim, and this is my-- ah, this is Jonghyun.” The boy gestured to the hobbit that had pulled his head from the fridge and was now standing at his full height. Okay, not quite a hobbit, but still.
“I found some beer, and ramyeon, but otherwise these guys are about as well stocked as…well, college students,” Jonghyun announced, waving his spoils around and flashing a quick apologetic glance in Jinki’s direction, but otherwise ignoring him.
Jinki hadn’t yet managed to gather enough brain power to build a protest to the ransacking and pillaging of his kitchen when Minho walked in the door, sweat running down his face, hair matted to his forehead.
“Hey,” Minho called, smiling warmly at Jinki as he kicked off his running shoes to trade them for house slippers. “You’re up early.” Minho leaned forward enough to see into the kitchen. Taemin waved exuberantly from his spot on the counter while Jonghyun read the label on the last ramyeon package to Jinki’s name.
“Well, you look as pretty as ever, Lee Taemin. No skirt today, I see.” Taemin scoffed at Minho, rolling his eyes. Jonghyun finally looked up from the ramyeon package and turned to give Minho a once over.
“Oh, so this is ‘tall, dark and decidedly gay’. Nice to meet you.” Jonghyun smirked.
“Hyung!” Taemin stage whispered as he kicked Jonghyun in the thigh. “This is my-- ah Jonghyun.” Taemin coughed. “He lives next door to you guys. Mr. Kim has another fashion show this weekend so I’ve been hiding at Jjong’s, but we ate the last of his food last night so…”
“So you broke into our place to steal some?” Jinki finally spoke up. “How did you even get in?”
“Kim Jonghyun, part time locksmith, full time –“
“er” Taemin offered helpfully, interrupting Jonghyun, a look of pure innocence on his face.
“Cocksu- No!” Jonghyun slapped Taemin’s thigh. “Full time entertainer, at your service.” Jonghyun smiled disarmingly, squinting his large eyes and flashing perfectly straight, white teeth.
“He’s a stripper,” Taemin supplied, still cool as a cucumber while Jonghyun’s face fell and his coloring deepened.
“I’m not a- I dance, okay? I don’t-- I-- It’s complicated.” Jonghyun jerked his head in a plea for Taemin to shut up.
“Stripper, locksmith, queen of England, I don’t care. What makes you think you can just come into my apartment?” Jinki grumbled, having nearly fallen asleep against the hallway wall while the two had bickered.
“Minho said I could come over any time, as long as I didn’t vomit on his carpet.” Jinki turned from blinking at Taemin to glare at Minho, who shrugged innocently, but didn’t deny that he had given the boy permission.
“Do I want to know? Or is this another one of those, don’t ask, don't tell situations?”
“Do I want to know? Or is this another one of those, don’t ask, don't tell situations?”
“Don’t ask,” Minho sighed. “Seriously though, Taemin, you shouldn’t be picking locks, you or anyone you know. You could have just knocked.”
Taemin managed to look a little sheepish.
Jinki was just turning to head back to his bed for a few more hours sleep when someone knocked at their door.
Minho had barely turned to go answer it when it opened and in walked Key, a measuring tape thrown around his shoulder and bolts of bright pink fabric filling his arms.
“Good lord, boys, don’t you know you need to lock your door in this part of town? I hear there’s someone in the building breaking in and stealing food.” Key leaned over into Minho’s space and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “And good morning y! Mm, you taste like hard work.”
Key moved further into the apartment followed by a handsome young man carrying a ridiculous amount of papers and wireless devices. “Taemin, darling,” Key drawled, his voice sickly sweet, “I could really use your help with my spring collection.”
Minho had hardly blinked before Taemin and Jonghyun were scrambling their way out of the kitchen and across the living space to the balcony door. Within seconds, all that was left of them was the half opened raman package, the wide open balcony door, and one of Jonghyun’s shoes.
Jinki didn’t even bother speaking up. He just turned back down the hall and made up his mind to sleep until the sun was high in the sky and all crazy neighbors had left.
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