pairing: chenlay, side!baekyeol.
word count: 2900.
rating: PG-13.
genre: humor.
summary: jongdae has a crush on the cute guy on the train.
 

The thing about taking public transportation to work in the morning, Jongdae has come to learn over time, is that you tend to see the same people almost every day. Each morning, Jongdae goes through the same travel routine of bus-train-walking, and along the way there are a few strangers he has begun to anticipate encountering.

There's the sweet old lady on the bus, who tells Jongdae how handsome he is and talks to him about her Very Unmarried granddaughter. There's the young mother with her adorable twin boys, tiny matching superhero backpacks bouncing on their backs as they walk through the train station hand in hand. There's the group of girls in their high school uniforms, who whisper among each other when Jongdae steps onto the train and giggle when he smiles at them. There's the drowsy college kid, who sleeps with his hood pulled up over his head and bass-heavy music playing from his earphones, and yet always manages to wake up just before he needs to get off the train.

And then there's Cute Guy. That is the name Jongdae has given him in his head because a) he doesn't know his real name and b) Jongdae thinks he's super cute. Cute Guy always gets on the train on the same station as Jongdae does, and he always gets off one station before Jongdae has to. Every day, without fail, Jongdae tries to build up the balls to have an actual conversation with Cute Guy. Every day, without fail, he has been unsuccessful.

It's not that Jongdae is usually the shy type, it's just that Cute Guy is almost intimidatingly cute, and also maybe the fact that Jongdae can't think of a conversation that doesn't start with something creepy and stalkery such as “hello, I've been kind of watching you for a few months, and I've been thinking about how much I would like to maybe hold your hand if you would please let me”. And so he settles instead for sneaking sidelong glances on their shared trip while trying not to stare too hard. Cute Guy is the one Jongdae anticipates encountering the most.

So when he descends the stairs to the station one day and finds that Cute Guy isn't there yet like he usually is, Jongdae can't help but feel a little put out. Which is, honestly, embarrassing, considering he doesn't even know the guy. He tells himself that he's being stupid, shakes off the disappointment, and goes to wait for the train. Even by the time it pulls into the station, Cute Guy still hasn't arrived, and Jongdae abandons his hopes of seeing him that day.

The doors are just about to slide closed for departure when Jongdae hears the sound of someone sprinting down the stairs, yelling: “Hold the doors, please hold the doors!” Jongdae reflexively shoots out his arm to block them and keep them from closing. Seconds later, a flurry of person comes bolting through the narrow gap. As soon as he's safely on board, he doubles over with his hands on his knees, panting to catch his breath, and Jongdae finally realizes that it's Cute Guy. “Thank you,” he gasps. “Thank you so much.”

He nearly falls over when the train lurches as it sets into motion, but Jongdae, once again, reaches out on instinct and manages to steady him with a hand on his upper arm. They stare into each other's eyes for a loaded moment in which Jongdae finds out that Cute Guy is a few inches taller than him. “No problem,” he finally manages to say once he stops being so tongue-tied. He mentally thanks his own firm willpower for giving him the strength to not let his hand linger longer than it should. Even though he wants to keep touching. Even though Cute Guy's bicep feels so nice under his palm. The moment is broken when Cute Guy turns away and puts a couple of feet of distance between them, and Jongdae is left thinking to himself that it is probably the first time he has even heard Cute Guy's voice. He thinks about how great it had sounded, so soft and melodic and sweet.

“Oh, mothering son of a .” Jongdae snaps his attention towards Cute Guy in surprise and finds him staring down at his own arm. The sleeve of his light blue dress shirt is stained brown, and Jongdae, pathetically, remembers exactly when and how it happened: a few mornings ago when the train had done a sharp brake and Cute Guy had spilled tea on himself. “Of all the ing days I could have picked this ty ing shirt it just had to be the day where I have to speak in front of our most ing important client, . I'm ed. I'm so ed.” He is muttering under his breath in Mandarin while rubbing almost violently at the stain as if that would make it go away, and although Jongdae's skills in the Chinese language are too rusty for him to fully interpret all of it, he still catches the gist. He hates how it makes his heart ache. With sympathy, of course. Totally.

“Excuse me,” he says before he has the chance to think better of it. “I couldn't help but overhear your... situation... and I... do you want to, like, swap shirts?” Cute Guy is staring at Jongdae like he doesn't understand what's going on. Jongdae repeats his suggestion in Mandarin and adds a lot of flailing hand motions just to make himself clear. “Switch... switch shirts?”

“Why?” Cute Guy says, thankfully in Korean this time.

Jongdae gestures to his own body. “I'm wearing a jacket.” I think you're super cute. “I just want to help.” Any excuse to finally be able to talk to you is more than welcome.

Cute Guy gawks at him for a little longer, then his shoulders slump with relief. “Thank you,” he says and immediately starts ing his shirt right then and there. Not even Jongdae's dying sputter makes him pause. “I'm sorry, I don't have a lot of time.” Jongdae knows. Jongdae knows Cute Guy has to get off in a few stops, but that doesn't make stripping down in the middle of a crowded train any less scary to him. And then there is, of course, the fact that more and more of Cute Guy's upper body is being revealed with each button. The fact that he is most definitely not wearing anything under that shirt. Yup. People around them are definitely starting to stare.

“Oh my god, just... come here.” Jongdae pulls Cute Guy into a corner and shields him with his body to the best of his ability to give them some semblance of privacy. It does nothing to quiet the other passengers' whispering voices, though, which only seem to grow louder and more agitated when Jongdae shrugs off his suit jacket and starts undoing the buttons of his own shirt as well. At least he's wearing a T-shirt under his. Although that certainly doesn't change that he is currently getting undressed within two feet of the guy he has had a lowkey crush on for a while. Jongdae can't decide if this is a dream come true or a wicked nightmare, but his heart is racing either way.

They quickly swap shirts and get redressed, and Jongdae makes sure to look anywhere other than at Cute Guy's body, no matter how much he not-so-secretly wants to ogle him. “Again, thank you so much,” Cute Guy says. He, on the other hand, is staring right at Jongdae, who is acutely aware of that fact. “I really need to make a good impression today.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jongdae says. It occurs to him belatedly that perhaps he shouldn't have admitted to eavesdropping. He clears his throat. “I, uh, overheard you talking.”

Cute Guy looks speculative, looks like he has a question ready right at the tip of his tongue, but the moment he opens his mouth to voice it, his stop is announced over the speakers, and he never asks what he wanted to. “What's your name?” he inquires instead.

“Jongdae. Kim Jongdae.”

“Kim Jongdae,” Cute Guy repeats. Jongdae almost wants to correct his near flawless pronunciation just to hear him say speak name one more time. “Thank you. You really are a lifesaver.” He smiles. Jongdae can't stop staring at the charming dips of the dimples that indent his cheeks.

“No problem,” he manages to say despite being kind of speechless. Breathless. Screwed.

The train pulls into the station, and Cute Guy gives Jongdae a wave. “Well. See you around.” He steps through the doors along with the dozen or so other people getting off at the same stop.

As Jongdae stands on the train and watches Cute Guy begin to make his way towards the exit, a thought suddenly pops into his head. “Wait!” he calls out, and Cute Guy halts, turning back around to look at Jongdae in question. “I told you my name, but you never told me yours.”

“Zhang Yixing,” Cute Guy calls back, and then the doors slide closed.

In hindsight, Jongdae should have probably offered to just give Yixing his jacket rather than full out swapping shirts with him. First of all, they would have been able to avoid the whole “getting half- in a crowded train during the morning rush”-issue that occurred earlier that morning, which would have probably been preferable for everyone involved.

Secondly, it would have been a lot less distracting for Jongdae if he didn't have to go about his workday wearing a shirt that smelled like Yixing. He had quickly come to find just how difficult it is to get any amount of article writing and research reading done when you every time you as much as move get a whiff of spicy cologne and natural musk. The fact that Yixing's scent alone is enough to make Jongdae a little weak at the knees is even more pathetic than his already pathetic, unrequited crush. He knows he is in way too deep.

At least Baekhyun gets a great amount of amusement out of the situation like the true Worst Best Friend that he is. “You got on the train?” he gasps once he's through almost falling out of his seat from laughing so hard at Jongdae's misery.

“I didn't get ,” Jongdae grumbles.

“Who got ?” Chanyeol asks, as he has naturally chosen that exact moment to return from the bar with their beers. He sets the bottles down on the table and slides into the booth next to Baekhyun, slinging an arm over his shoulders and pressing a quick kiss to his temple. Jongdae would gag at their gross, lovey-dovey PDA if he wasn't so busy being affronted.

“No one got !”

“Ask Jongdae about the stain on his sleeve,” Baekhyun suggests with a grin, and Jongdae very much regrets his decision to take off his jacket in the first place, but he had felt stuffy in it the whole day, and the pub they're in now is hot as balls. Or maybe it's just because his face is heating up.

“Yo, what's up with that stain on your sleeve?” Chanyeol asks.

Jongdae scowls. “I swapped shirts with a guy on the train as a favor, okay, now can we drop it?”

“You got on the train?” Chanyeol exclaims, and Baekhyun cackles.

Jongdae officially hates both of them. “ off. Consider your Best Friend titles revoked. I don't need you, I don't need either of you, I'll be my own best friend instead.” He takes a long swig from his bottle, hoping to get intoxicated enough to knock himself unconscious so he doesn't have to deal with these dickholes he calls his best friends.

Having taken a mouthful of beer, of course, means that he nearly spits all of it out when Chanyeol asks: “Was it Cute Guy?”

“How do you know about that?” Jongdae gawks. The very moment the question is out, he realizes on his own what the answer to it is, and he glares at Baekhyun. “You told him?”

“We tell each other everything!” Chanyeol says with his chest puffed out proudly, and Baekhyun coos, scratching him under the chin like he's a ing puppy or something. This time, Jongdae really does gag. He yowls when Chanyeol kicks his shin under the table, and he tries to kick him back, but Chanyeol has already pulled his legs out of the way, and Jongdae's legs are too short to reach. Goddamn Chanyeol and his goddamn noodly appendages.

Resting his chin in the palm of his propped up hand, Baekhyun smiles smugly. “I think your crush is very cute. It's nice to hear that you have finally taken it to the next level, even though I must say getting in public together is moving a bit fast, no matter how cute this so-called Cute Guy is.”

“I didn't get .” Jongdae is starting to feel like a broken record stuck playing the same loop of sound over and over to no avail. “And his name is Yixing, by the way.”

Now Baekhyun looks very unimpressed. “You've been eye-ing this guy for like a year...”

“Ten months!”

“...and you didn't even know his name until now?”

“At least that's some kind of progress,” Chanyeol interjects, ever the optimist. Too bad his wide smile makes him look deranged. “It's good that you're working on developing your relationship.”

“It's all the progress there is ever going to be,” Jongdae says, slamming his fist against the table. “Because this relationship is never going to happen. There isn't even a relationship!”

“Hmm, I don't know about that,” Baekhyun drawls. Jongdae can already tell from the smarmy look in his eyes that he's going to absolutely hate whatever Baekhyun is about to say next. “You got with each other on the train. I'd say that's definitely something.”

“You got on the train?” Kyungsoo asks, finally joining them after having worked late. “Was it because of Cute Guy?” Right then and there, Jongdae decides that as soon as he gets home tonight, he's going to put up an ad online to find himself new friends.

Today, Yixing is already waiting at the train station when Jongdae gets there. He spends a few moments standing by the stairs working up the courage to approach, but before he can find the guts to do so, Yixing notices him and waves enthusiastically. Jongdae has to take a deep breath before making his way over. “Hey.”

“Hi!” Yixing greets with a smile. He's so cute. Jongdae's heart is pounding so loud he's sure Yixing can hear it even over the sound of the crowd, the trains coming and going, the messages spoken over crackling speakers. He has Yixing's shirt in his bag, washed and ironed, but he doesn't want to bring it up quite yet. He wants to keep talking to Yixing while he has the chance.

“Are you having a better morning today?” Jongdae asks. Yixing appears to be confused by the question, so Jongdae elaborates: “You seemed pretty frazzled yesterday.”

“Oh. Yeah, it was pretty rough.” Sheepishly, Yixing scratches the back of his neck with one finger. “I slept through all my alarms and woke up too late, I almost missed the train, I grabbed the wrong shirt off the floor in my panic to get to work in time. But at least I got to talk to you, so I guess it wasn't all bad.” Jongdae tells himself that Yixing most likely doesn't mean anything by that, even though his stubborn brain is trying to convince him otherwise. “You really saved my .”

Would it be weird for Jongdae to compliment said ? Probably. “Don't mention it,” he says with a dismissive hand gesture. “I'm just glad to have been able to help. It's not a big deal.”

“It is to me!” Yixing insists, and, , his enthusiasm is really cute, too. “I attribute, like, ninety percent of yesterday's successful deal to you helping me out. I don't think I could have come through like I did if I had been all self-conscious about my dirty clothes.”

“That's kind of ridiculous, but okay.” Jongdae purses his lips. “Well, seeing as I basically saved your entire career, I'd say it's only fair that you buy me lunch to reward me for my great effort.” He's joking. Sort of.

Much to his horror, however, Yixing seems to take him completely serious. “Make it dinner and you have a deal,” he counter-offers, nodding with determination.

Jongdae balks. “I was kidding,” he says. “Really. You don't have to.”

“But I want to.” Yixing takes a step closer, and it makes Jongdae feel embarrassingly nervous. He's not a ing middle schooler with clammy palms anymore, damnit. “To be honest,” Yixing mutters almost conspiratorially. “I've been wanting to ask you out for months, I just didn't know how.”

“Same,” Jongdae manages to mumble. Up close, Yixing's dimpled smile is so brilliant it's almost blinding, but Jongdae thinks he probably wouldn't mind going blind if Yixing's smile was the last thing he got to see. He both hates and loves how sappy Yixing makes him feel.

Jongdae completely forgets everything about giving the shirt back, but he gives Yixing his number instead, so that's okay.

~*~

A/N: what's up, gentledudes and gentledames. it is I, your resident clinically depressed poster, back at it again with some more traaaaash.

how long has it been since I last added to this heaping mountain of garbage? eight months? nine months? dates are hard when you get as old as me. in any case, here I am once again, ready to have you thinking "why is she even still trying?". if you have made it this far, congratulations on wasting your precious time on such a pointless pile of crap. I certainly commend the willpower that seems to have carried you through to the very end where most people would have probably given up along the way upon realizing that this is truly the purest form of .

the inspiration for this story came from my own experiences with taking public transportation every morning. the part with seeing the same people every day, mostly. there was a severe lack of Cute Guys and Girls, and there was most definitely no taking off of shirts, which, I feel, would have vastly improved certain situations. this story took A Turn somewhere along the way and got seriously derailed, and I didn't know how to get it back on track. I also don't know how and why my brain decided to add chinguline, but that is a thing that happened. it is done. it is over. it is out of my life, and I am washing my hands of it. farewell.

this is supposed to be a birthday story for both jongdae and yixing. you know the drill. this is all a mess. I just love them, okay. TT__TT

ps. title taken from björk's song of the same name.
pps. anyone care for some vixx? happy birthday, bingbong. ♥
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