jaemin is like a breath of fresh air from this quiet, boring little town.
he is a ball of energy and giggles, constantly pestering them to do something. collectively, they go on three walks, cook ten meals, get their painting supplies out twice, deep clean the kitchen once and filter through yangyang's 'time travel presents' (as he's been calling them) three times.
and he's only been here for a week.
unfortunately for them, during their kitchen clean, yangyang discovered some... grossness.
"bro, there's a huge ass stain under the counter." yangyang exclaims, popping his head out of one of their dingy kitchen cabinets, wrinkling his nose. renjun walks over and squats down, trying to crane his neck to the point of being able to see. jaemin also stops by behind them, passing some cleaning supplies past both of their shoulders.
"yangie, you found it! your cleaning job!" jaemin says cheerfully, and renjun cracks a stifled giggle. yangyang's shoulders slump, as he looks at the rusty colour pooling under the counter and down the inside of the door.
the paint is flaky, like it is around the rest of the house. while you'd expect mould, or spiders, or <i>something</I> gross other than the stain, he notices the cupboard is pristine, and reeks of bleach and something else he can't put a finger on. it makes his head spin a bit.
"god, why do i always get so unlucky. i fucking hate cleaning!" he groans, pinching his nose and scrubbing at the stain with a concoction of chemicals and water, and an old rag. the rag consistently comes away, slightly red, turning the bucket of water he has a pinky-orange shade.
"you're doing great." renjun nudges him with his knee as he scrubs at their dishes. he dumps a couple soap bubbles on top of yangyang's head for good measure.
jaemin stops by, actually stopping to have a closer look at yangyang's cleaning, and he freezes, hand flying out to catch yangyang's forearm. when yangyang makes a noise of confusion and tries to pull his hand back, jaemin's grip remains steely and unbreakable.
that is freaky.
"yangyang, drop the cloth. let me have a look." he says carefully, dead serious. yangyang frowns, dumping the rag into his bucket of pink water and standing up to give jaemin room. both his knees make a loud crack as he stands and renjun snorts.
"old man."
"you're literally older than me." yangyang retorts, watching jaemin out of the corner of his eye as he busies himself, washing his hands and talking to renjun. trying desperately to n<i>not</i> let jaemin's reaction freak him out. renjun dries off his hands and leans against the counter, blowing yangyang a kiss and laughing.
he sees jaemin's head popped around the cabinet door, hands gingerly supporting himself on the counters as he observes.
"have you ever seen this stain before?" he asks and renjun shrugs.
"we've never really used that cupboard." he says and yangyang agrees.
"it's in an awkward place while we cook and we also don't really like, have enough stuff to fill this many cabinets yet." he adds, and jaemin cocks his head to one side with a frown.
"yeah, but have you seen it before?" he presses, and renjun purses his lips. yangyang tries his best to remember.
"i'm not entirely sure. i don't think so." renjun decides to say. and yangyang is relieved that his friend is leading the conversation instead of himself. jaemin stands up and washes his hands in their (now empty) sink.
YOU ARE READING
lost in the fire./ yangdery
Fanfictiona rusty telephone connects two boys through fifty years of history. heavily inspired by flowers from 1970 (by ellabailliee)!