Disclaimer: Kill Me Kiss Me © Lee Young Yuu
Ding dong. Ding dong.
A large, pale hand emerged out of a mountain of comforters to slam down upon its target. Kun fumbled blindly for a moment, grappling with the alarm clock, then managed to pick up the offensive device hurl it to the floor.
The hand retreated, like a sated dragon returning to its lair.
Ding dong. Ding dong.
The hand shot out of the covers to grope blindly on the bedside table, only to pause in puzzlment as the owner of the appendage remembered that the enemy had already been vanquished. Then why…
Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.
The cloth mountain shifted, and an ash blond head popped out much in the same way as an irate turtle. Kun let out a groan as that godforsaken noise continued. The blond clambered out of bed with little of the model's grace he was commonly known for. He retrieved the fallen alarm clock and switched off the alarm. He then took out the batteries for good measure. Right before the digital screen blacked out, his sleep-befuddled mind registered the numbers on the face. He stared, expression shifting from incredulous to murderous.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Kun's head snapped up. He dropped the useless appliance casually, with little care for where it fell. His mind zeroed in on the source of the noise, and he left to hunt it down. Clad in only a pair of navy pajama bottoms with his light blond hair brushing his bare shoulders, he padded through the apartment like a lion on the prowl.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He stopped at his front door. Blinked. Paused to yawn. Glowered. Who was at his door so early in the fucking morning? He looked through the peephole and groaned. What the fuck was that little son of a bitch doing here so fucking early…
Kun undid the locks and chain and yanked open the door, not caring about his state of undress. He caught Jung-Woo mid-kick. The other stumbled into the apartment.
"…The fuck are you doing to my door." Kun regarded the dark smudges in lower left corner of the door, then looked to the perpetrator.
Jung-Woo regained his balance. "Your doorbell doesn't work."
…Oh, that was the doorbell earlier. …What a bastard.
"Persistent little bitch aren't you," Kun growled. He needed a cigarette. He turned back inside, and heard Jung-Woo follow him in without being invited in. Rude. At least he remembered to take off his scuffed tennis shoes.
Kun lit up, then turned back to see Jung-Woo already opening the plastic kennel and pulling the mutt into his arms.
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Kun growled.
"Time to get a watch?"
Kun saw red. Wrong answer.
"NO. It is 9 o'clock in the fucking morning. Let me put that into perspective for you. It is exactly seven hours after I got off work, six hours after I dropped your sleeping beauty ass off at Ga-Woon's, and four hours after I finished getting this fleabag its license, its collar," Kun ticked off the items on his fingers, "its food, its little fucking doggy house-kennel whatever, and its little doggy leg put in a cast and a cone put on the poor bastard's head so it won't try and eat the cast –which, by the way, is completely absurd, because no living thing could really be that fucking stupid to try and chew the device that's actually healing it, but oh no, dogs really are that fucking stupid– which means that I only got home and went to sleep less than four fucking hours ago, and yet here you are! Ringing my doorbell, fucking up my door, and waking me up, all because of a stupid mutt! Do you understand now?!"
Snowball whined. Jung-Woo stroked his head to reassure the pup that the big scary man wasn't going to get him.
"You said I could come here to be with him."
"You can't just come here whenever you fucking feel like it. I decide the visiting hours, slave." A thought occurred to him. "And how the fuck did you find out where I live."
Kun sighed angrily. He might have guessed. He would be sure to thank Ga-Woon the next time he saw him.
"And you didn't say when I could come over, so I figured whenever."
"A grievous error on my part that shall be rectified immediately." Kun strode to the kitchen to grab a pad of paper. "Okay, now here are all the times that will be convenient for me…" He ripped off the top sheet of paper that already had something written on it, carelessly let it fall to the ground, then started scribbling.
Jung-Woo leaned forward, hearing Snowball whine as his position in Jung-Woo's lap was compromised, until he could pick up the piece of paper. He resumed his cross-legged position on the carpet and pet the dog's head absently as he looked at the note written in a messy scrawl.
"9 SHOOT S4," Jung-Woo read tonelessly. He let it flutter to the ground and resumed petting Snowball. The pup squirmed around in his lap until his belly showed. He lifted up his furry forelegs and bat them at Jung-Woo playfully. The burnt honey blonde teen laughed slightly and rubbed his friend's belly. He spoiled him.
Kun froze upon hearing the other teen's voice, then lunged forward and snatched the slip of paper to confirm the message. Fuck. He tossed the pad of paper on the coffee table and sprinted to his bedroom, slamming the door closed.
Curious, Jung-Woo retrieved the pad of paper that allegedly held a list of the times that it was okay to drop by…
"NEVER. NO DROPPING BY. I TELL YOU WHEN YOU ARE TO SHOW UP. MY WORD IS ABSO" Kun hadn't finished the note.
Jung-Woo looked up to see Kun re-enter the room, fully clothed. He never stopped walking, just grabbed his keys and wallet as he moved through the room. "I don't have time to write up a list of chores I want you to do. Just clean my apartment."
"Where are you going?" It was a Saturday, so there was no school.
"Photoshoot. It's already nine. I'm late."
The door slammed shut.
Jung-Woo blinked, then looked around at the now very quiet apartment. He felt a warm, sandpapery tongue lick his hand and looked down at Snowball. The boy smiled. Play time.
Kun shoved the key in the door, almost breaking the flimsy piece of metal in half as he roughly snapped his wrist to turn it in the lock and kick the door open. Once he was in he hooked his foot around the door and slammed it behind him with a satisfying crash.
He was beyond pissed off. He had been paired with the same shitty partner as the night before. It was some fucking prissy little bitch who was obviously only there because her parents had the money to buy her way into the industry. She was the kind of model Kun hated. And he had been stuck with her two shoots in a row. "Bad mood" didn't even begin to describe him. All he wanted was to go to bed.
He stepped out something that let out an obscene squeak. Kun looked down and lifted his foot. The rubber rolled-up newspaper exhaled another squeak. His icy eyes slowly followed a distinct trail of dog toys and shredded newspaper. He walked onwards, turning the corner from the foyer to the main living room.
Sitting in front of his television, surrounded by empty soda cans, plastic junk food bags, video game paraphernalia, and dog toys, was Jung-Woo, his chocolate brown eyes fixated on the huge plasma screen. His thin form was slouched. The blond had atrocious posture, Kun noted, not for the first time. Nothing moved except for the fingers holding the controller in his lap, which pressed buttons and rotated the toggles expertly. He didn't even look up.
Kun Kang silently looked around and grabbed the remote, jamming a finger into the power button. The television screen went dark. Jung-Woo blinked and straightened slightly, as if coming out of a trance. He swiveled around, and quickly saw Kun. The dog barked a greeting from its nest of covers and cushions on Kun's couch.
"…What the hell are you still doing here." Kun congratulated himself on keeping his voice even.
"You had Left 4 Dead."
"Fucking moron, you don't just play video games at someone's house when they're not there."
Jung-Woo blinked, as if this was a new concept. "But you let me in."
"Correction." He had been forced to reign in his temper when dealing with the shoot manager. That was his job. However, there was no one around now to make him play nice. He took a step toward the teen still sitting on the floor.
"You let yourself into my house. I come home to find the place a fucking shithole because of you, and here you are playing my video gameswhile the fucking dog tears up my couch! And the entire affair is your entire fault to begin with!" He took another step every time he emphasized a point, until he was looming over the slighter teen. Kun clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling his nails bite into his skin when his hands were closed. His fist lashed out, fast as a cobra strike, and struck the dirty blonde on the cheek. Jung-Woo's face snapped to the left with the force of the blow. Red bloomed on his porcelain skin.
Suddenly, as if the blow in itself was the means to an end, all the energy drained out of Kun. He felt vacant, void of all emotion. A feeling of weariness poured in. He sank down to sit next to Jung-Woo. He wanted to go to sleep for a hundred years. Damn, he was tired. That was all. Just tired.
Kun felt something tugging at his sleeve. Jung-Woo was gazing at him attentively. He pulled Kun to his feet, and steered him toward his bedroom. Kun followed sluggishly, mechanically. His legs hid the bedframe. Before he toppled over into the welcoming embrace of slumber, he flung out an arm and caught Jung-Woo's bicep, yanking so that the other male fell onto his bed with him.
Jung-Woo felt himself falling, and hit the bed with an "Oof!" He blinked and tried to get up, but found that he couldn't move far with Kun keeping an iron grip on his arm. He gave up and relaxed into the bed that was larger and far more comfortable than the couch he crashed on at Ga-Woon's. He heard Kun mutter something.
"Stay. Stop moving." Commanded.
"Can I get Snowball?"
"No fucking dogs in the bed." Growled.
Minutes passed. "My apartment's a mess." Stated.
Jung-Woo remained silent. He stared at the ceiling, chocolate brown eyes tranquil.
Kun pushed himself up until he was looming over the other teen. Jung-Woo looked up at him placidly. "I told you to clean the place and you fuck it up even worse."
"…Sorry," Jung-Woo apologized, looking away.
This seemed to satisfy the other, at least for the moment. He lay back down, this time moving to place more distance between their bodies. He rolled over to face the wall. Jung-Woo watched him.
No answer. Jung-Woo hesitantly got up, the mattress shifting beneath his weight. He cast a glance behind him, but the young man remained immobile. Jung-Woo left.
A/N: Thanks for reviewing, it really means a lot. :) And thanks for being patient. This story will probably be five chapters. I need to fill two more chapters before the ending, which I already have planned, so if you have ideas for cute/fun/comedic/angsty/whatever moments between Jung-Woo and Kun Kang, just tell me your idea(s) in a review or message and you will probably see them in the next couple of chapters.