Chapter Text
He’d failed.
One job. Just one job.
Don’t fall in love on the first day. Perfect. Shouldn’t be hard, right? Not for Jun.
It was finally time Taejun’s family left Taiwan, and Jun wouldn’t be lying if he said he was happy. It was always the same thing day after day in Taipei; wake up, go to school, come home, make music. No eating unless he’d already passed out that day, no skipping classes, no time for relationships, no serious friendships. Taejun wasn’t allowed much nor was he given much. No respect, no gifts, no affection, and worst of all, no love.
Five years had passed since Taejun had come out of the closet as gay. He liked men. The men with broad shoulders, dark brown eyes, clean and sharp hair and features- that was his type. He’d only ever seen such handsome men on TV, but the streets of Taipei never quite held that type of man.
Some like to say that you like people who look like you, but Jun couldn’t disagree more. He was short, underweight, and skinny and he had long, black, shaggy, curly hair. He was a twink. Objectively. Anyone would know that he was one by just setting a quick eye on him. The way he walked, smiled, did his makeup, how he dressed- it all screamed twink. The soft coral blush under his eyes and the small aegyo sal all gave him away, but more of the “giving away” came from his outfit. Now, his outfit consisted of a cropped, turtleneck mesh top, an unbuttoned denim vest with rhinestones, slate blue jeans that seemed to swallow him whole, and platform black converse. The touches of silver rings, a double grommet belt, his black headphones, and copious amounts of chains laced every inch of his body. Taejun was either wearing full on mall goth from the 2000s would wear or Tokyo soft boy in his early 20s, and there was no in between. He wanted a tall, muscular, straight-haired, and mysterious boyfriend, and that’s what he got.
✮
Taejun had arrived. One hand held the handle of a suitcase and the other clutched a key and form like its life depended on it with a guitar case slung over one shoulder while his other held his backpack. Jun looked up and down, from the form he’d received from school administration three weeks prior. Low on the paper read “이태준 (ㄌㄧˇ ㄊㄞˋ ㄐㄩㄣˋ) (Lí Taejun): Dorm 341, Complex 9”, and the door he stood before in the blank white hallway read “341” in small black numbers. It was his dorm.
The boy turned the bronze key in the silver doorknob with caution, as if something was going to jump out at him. Jun only left a sliver of the door open, allowing him to gently peek inside. First, he looked from the outside before peeking his whole head in. Nobody was there. Perfect. Peace and quiet.
Jun loved being able to think, but his younger siblings in Taiwan wouldn’t let him. Now, he could go to a boarding school where he didn’t have to worry about six small children over a decade younger than him running into his guitars, knocking over keyboards, or tinkering with the MIDI devices when they shouldn’t. Taejun always paid for his own expenses since he was old enough and had a job, so he was independent while his mother and father cared for six three to seven year olds. His parents were young. Very young. They had Taejun accidentally at fourteen, so they are only thirty one now, while they had the other six in their 20s.
Jun inherited the job of “babysitter” and “mom number two” when his parents were gone at work. He had to take school or work off sometimes to care for the kids, but he had to sacrifice. His parents loved him, but they always had so much on their plates that they couldn’t control, so they took the time they could with him but never quite had the chance to bond in the past years. Once they had seven kids, making time was no longer an option, and they started losing touch. They’d lived together at the time, but now, Taejun was sent to a boarding school and he’d only visit twice a year; the holidays and summer break. Jun studied in Seoul while his family lived in Ulsan, so the commute wasn’t short. But he was free. No more children. Just him with his own dorm at a huge art school.
The dorm was silent and empty, with two beds just like all the other dorms. Both were blank, parallel to each other on either side of a window in between the two. Nobody else lived there, so Taejun had the whole dorm to himself. White light flashed through the blinds of the window, highlighting small particles of dust in the air, untouched.
The tight pressure in Taejun’s chest released with a slow sigh of relief. The boy walked over to the bed on the right side of the bland room and set the guitar case against the wall. His steps echoed through the room, ricocheting off of the walls the same way anxiety did in his chest. He was relieved to have some space from his family, but the new setting was too much of a change for instant comfort. The change wasn’t the only thing unsettling, but the room was so plain that it felt like he was in a cell regardless of the nice furniture. Across from the foot of each bed sat a white desk with drawers on each side. Jun looked at his desk, admiring how pristine it was before slinging the backpack off his shoulder, placing it on the white desktop. Nothing like what he had at home.
Everything was a wreck in Taipei, and it wasn’t all Taejun’s fault. Well, mostly. Jun had instruments, music sheets, notebooks filled with lyrics and quick scribbles, computer components, paints, fancy pens, and sketches lining each surface. His family didn’t think of his room to be as sacred as it was in his mind, and they’d run around in it and ruin his instruments, so he made sure he bought a lock. His parents didn’t even notice, even though they said he wasn’t allowed to have a lock on his door. He didn’t put the lock on the door to keep his parents out, rather to keep the children out so they wouldn’t break his guitar strings. Now, he didn’t have to worry about any children rummaging through his belongings.
Jun let the suitcase roll somewhere on the floor as he went to flop right onto the plush bed. He’d had a long day of commuting from Ulsan to Seoul by train and taxi, and at this point he didn’t care about the fact his clothes were covered in train germs or the fact he still had his shoes on. He needed this. A break, a long sigh, and a scroll on his phone.
Taejun stood up, straightening his clothes as he walked towards the doorway. He untied the laces of his converse and set them to the side. The floors were slippery, Jun’s socks gliding with each small step. It was already nineteen o’clock, and he was already tired, so he grabbed sweatpants and a t-shirt from his suitcase, slipping them on. The boy quickly pulled the curtains down before flipping onto the bed again. Taejun grabbed the comforter, pulling it up to his cheek. It was near black in the room, and his bed slowly warmed the longer he rested.
It didn’t take long for Jun to fall asleep in the soft bed, sleeping peacefully that night.