starboy

chapter 6

  eleven pm
  zen
Zen woke up many hours before Jumin, his nap lasting a short few hours. Yet,  Jumin had mumbled something about "getting sleep for the flight" when Zen had tried to wake him.

Zen had let him be, and as the night progressed, the night grew warm. It was towards the ends of July, and Zen was expecting the chilly weather of autumn.

Autumn, which was short, but pleasant,  was not as cold as winter, but it was a good break from the heavy rainfall of summer and the hot rays of sunshine beating down on them.

Zen thinks about his preferred seasons, and wonders if winter is a better time for his performances, considering his costumes were thick and packed with extra clothing. His thoughts are interrupted when he thinks about packing Jumin some food for the flight, and smiles.

"I'm truly a housewife." Zen murmurs to himself, "Or maybe Jumin's just my son."

Zen thinks about the major differences between being a mother and being Jumin's housewife as he prepares sandwiches. He beams when he pulls out a grape-juice box, turning it affectionately in his hands.

"Drink up!" His aunt's assuring voice rang in his ears. He can almost feel her dainty hands squeezing his shoulders fondly.

"If you drink your juice, you'll grow big and strong, my son." Zen imagines his aunt, Tia Marina, slapping her damp rag back in the crook of her arm, pushing back long, thick locks of graying auburn hair over her shoulder.
Zen reminisces about his aunt. She was a Cuban woman, and married the brother of Zen's mother.

Fluent in Korean thanks to the long years of marriage to her husband, she often sat Zen in her lap and taught him words in Spanish.

Tia, He thinks.
Aunt.

"Tia." Zen repeated the word quietly. His accent shone, highlighted. His tia always laughed when Zen would mumble words in Spanish, repeating them when he heard her saying them.
She was the best woman, Zen knows.
As Zen tucks the sandwiches, wrapped in paper towels, into a paper bag, his thoughts are filled with his tia.

I wonder if I'll be like Tia, and marry Jumin.

Zen chuckles at the thought. It warmed his heart, though, in a new way. He wants to be like his tia. She was kind, and incredible, and Zen would've traded everything for her to be his mother.

He was blessed with her as a relative, he knows, and loves her dearly.

He wraps up the paper bag, and lets out a deep sigh that almost hurts his chest. He misses Marina.

Suddenly, a pair of arms snake around his waist, and Zen feels himself smiling.

"What's this?" Jumin asks, his voice gravelly and thick with sleep. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of Zen's neck, and Zen feels his heart skip a beat. He leans back into Jumin, allowing the man to slip his fingers under Zen's shirt.

"Not too far," Zen whispers softly. His fingers wrap around Jumin's wrist, stopping a hand that was straying beneath Zen's pants. Jumin whimpers, nuzzling Zen's neck.

"I still don't love you." Zen murmurs, turning his head so that his nose was buried in Jumin's soft, ink black hair.
"Why not?" Jumin groans, rubbing along the tops of Zen's v-line. Zen bites back a moan, scrunching his eyes in delight. It's been a while since Zen has been touched like this.

Jumin rubbed his hands along Zen's abdomen, trying to lift off his shirt completely, but Zen stops him.
"Why don't you love me? It's already been a few days." Jumin moans, bucking his hips into Zen's ass, making him jump and blush furiously. "Let me prove that I'm in love."