moving day | Heeseung x Jay

two

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"I'm surprised that she's even making it." Jay shrugs at the horrified expression Heeseung makes from the passenger seat, directing his eyes back to the road and opening his mouth, expectant. Heeseung huffs before placing a pringle into Jay's mouth, the younger male chewing, delighted and jerking his chin toward the radio. "You can change the station if you want, but don't hog the chips. I paid $3 for those."

"That's with tax, cheapo. Anyway, don't talk about Linda like that. She's doing her time and she's doing it well." Heeseung turns the knob of the stereo and laughs gleefully as it surfs through what's available. Jay cuts his eyes to see a glimpse of the joy on his best friend's face before the familiar notes of Jingle Bell Rock ring throughout the car.

Jay groans and almost covers his ears but keeps his hands away from his head and on the steering wheel. "Seriously? You're still obsessed with Christmas music? I thought this quirk died in high school."

"Santa is forever, don't you know that by now? Also, this is coming from the person who spent all his allowance on music by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I'm allowed to have whatever quirk I want."

"It wasn't just them! I also listened to Queen. And don't forget the Beatles phase I had," Jay retorts, turning the volume down on the steering wheel and glaring at Heeseung in his peripheral when he sees him reaching to turn it back up. "Driver makes the music rules, and you play yours too loud."

"You don't know how to really feel the music. You gotta feel it resonate in your bones; absorb it and all."

"I'm not a sponge," Jay scoffs, but there's laughter bubbling up in his chest and a giggle trying to escape his throat. "Also, I can't believe out of all the names you could have given our U-Haul truck, you picked Linda."

Heeseung ignores the diss and shrugs, popping a pringle into his mouth. "You are a sponge, but the best kind. You learn everyone's strengths and encourage them while making yourself strong, too."

Jay swallows and the air shifts, momentarily, almost like it's on the verge of sizzling. Then, Heeseung adds: "SpongeBob has competition."

Jay promptly steals the pringle tube and smooshes it between his thighs, hard enough that Heeseung can't pull it out even though he reaches over to try.

"Hands off!" Jay protests, hoping wholeheartedly that the warning in his voice is not sharp enough to slice, only to bruise. Heeseung retreats with less persuasion needed than usual, hands pulling back like a hummingbird does from a flower— from something beautiful: Delicately and with care. He pouts instead, something more than the want for a snack crowding up space behind his retinas where Jay can't see, and draws his knees up to his chest before looking out the window, accepting defeat.

Jay drives, the car silent except for the radio station and the occasional sound of his munching on their so-called scorchin' hot pringles which unfortunately taste like lukewarm barbeque. After some prolonged silence, he groans and carefully tightens his hold on the wheel with his left hand before extending the pringle tube over to Heeseung with his right. The older male takes it after some hesitance as Jay frowns, bothered by his silence, and flicks the volume on his steering wheel upwards.

He can feel Heeseung looking at him out of the corner of his eye, but he keeps his eyes pinned on the road ahead. "What?" He asks, wanting to break the silence. "You told me I can't feel the music. I'm trying to feel it right now."

Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree plays on the radio and Heeseung hums along before commenting, "I showed you this song, didn't I?"

Jay nods a beat too late, startled that Heeseung would remember a small detail like that. He taps his thumb on the steering wheel to the beat and feels that stare on him again as the song builds up.