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Tea! Would You Like Some?
Han Jumin x Reader
Jumin Week 2023 - Day 3: Quality Time @juminweek2019
High-quality time shared between two people highly stupid about their feelings. And for each other.
My x reader comeback after so long! Had a meet cute recently so y'all get a lighthearted crushing stage fic for once :)
Words: 3.9k
Masterlist Read on AO3
How soon you could come had no correlation to Jumin's expectation of seeing you materialise in his living room. At least, that was what he told himself. His traitorous fingers told a different thing. They had typed out a message asking where you were, if there was any problem with your ride, if you had input the correct address in your map, and if he needed to send out a search party if you didn't reply in the next five minutes, but that, he felt, would be too drastic.
Jumin erased the last part and sent the text. He sighed, fingers drumming on the arm of his white sofa. Contrary to Zen's belief, he was not one to blow things out of proportion. He always did just enough and everything else was simply a precaution.
Perhaps a five-minute grace was not precaution enough. Four minutes. He could wait for four.
The second his doorbell rang, Jumin leapt to his feet. He never considered the distance from the living room to the entrance too far, but now he doubted the interior design of his penthouse. Large spaces allowed him to breathe—until you took it away just by not reneging on your promise to visit. You were someone he had only met a handful of times, always with the other members and never at his own place.
Today was special. Today he decided to ignore his fear of being left behind by his loved ones and let you in.
You could be someone he loved. You could be the one who stayed.
Jumin composed himself and opened the door, and there you were, standing with your hands deep in your pockets, waiting for him.
Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you. Despite being mussed by the wind, your hair fell beautifully around your face like a divine frame that accentuated your features. Your eyes were bright, your smile was wide, and you were wrapped in a coat that must be your favourite. He never saw you without it. He wished he knew more about your fashion sense so he could gift you clothes that you would like. He also wished he was close enough to see himself in your eyes' reflection, but that time would come later. Everything had its order, and patience was a virtue that had been drilled into him since childhood.
"I have been waiting for you," said Jumin, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice. "Did anything happen on your way here? You didn't reply to my text."
"I was rushing." Your smile turned apologetic. "Didn't check my phone, sorry."
Jumin stepped aside to let you in. The fact that your hand could have grazed his had you walked nearer to him did not escape his attention. "No matter. It's all right now that you're here."
Leading you to the white plush sofa where he had waited with perfect calmness, he felt tense and oddly exposed, like he was anticipating a foreboding that might come to pass. He did not feel like Han Jumin. This was an iteration of him that he had not been acquainted with.
"Did I make you wait too long?" you asked.
"No," Jumin said. "You didn't have to hurry. You were not yet late." He hoped the sofa would be good enough for you. He had asked his housekeeper to clean off every speck of dust he could detect, twice over.
You sat down and stared at him with a look that he couldn't discern. "I wanted to be early."
Jumin took a seat beside you, careful to maintain a respectful distance despite his heart's protest. "You possess an excellent sense of time management. We will get along well." Compliments flowed out of him easily when it came to you. If you let him, he would graciously point out your strengths one by one.
But was that disappointment on your face?—though it disappeared before he could probe further. "Yes, I love time and managing stuff." You sighed. "That's why I'm the assigned party coordinator."
Now that you were at the spot where he had cast secret spells to summon you, Jumin wasn't sure what to say. He was desperate to know if you shared his jitters. You were motionless, spine straight and hands clasped on your lap, studiously watching the black television screen. There was nothing save for the blurred reflection of both of you sitting in a similar position. He had been imagining all sorts of exciting conversations with you, but your presence had flung them out of his head. This had never happened before. An MRI scan was in order after you went home.
It was possible that you were growing bored, though your affable expression had not indicated so. But it might not mean anything, for you always seemed pleasant. You were very, very pleasant to look at. It was also possible that he was the only one with an insatiable curiosity towards you. For all he knew, you could be with a partner and merely accepted his invitation to hang out with him as a newly anointed member of the RFA. And you were a member. This was a friendly meet-up, nothing more.
"Tea," said Jumin suddenly. His voice echoed in the silence.
Startled, your head snapped to him. "What?"
"Everyone in my family learns to brew tea," Jumin explained. "The tea leaves in my pantry are directly imported from China, obtained from the only six three-hundred-year-old Wuyi trees in existence. The legend of this tea can be traced back to the age of emperors and dynasties, and it has become extraordinarily rare over time. It has the best quality in the world."
"How did you get it if it's so rare?" You were trying to hold a smile back, but it was not a mocking sneer. There was a certain fondness in it that made him want to let all his guard down and pull you into his arms.
"Auctions," Jumin simply said. "You ought to try it. It will keep you warm." Only then he noticed that you still had your coat on and was promptly filled with horror. "My apologies. I seem to have lost my manners." He outstretched his arm. "Leave your coat with me. It can't have been comfortable sitting in that."
"Shame." You handed it over. "I was planning to take a nap in this."
"Is that how people normally sleep? Or is it a tradition unique to you?" Jumin folded your coat into a perfect half over his forearm. "I'd appreciate it if you could teach me your ways."
"I was joking, Jumin. Should I teach you how to make one?" you said, in a tone so kind that he was taken aback. People tended to laugh at his face or look away politely when he failed to understand a joke.
"There is no need. I already have a handbook for it." Jumin was unable to keep smugness out of his voice. "It includes a list of one hundred jokes that you can make to both family and work colleagues alike. I have made good use of it when I need to break the ice."
"But does it include learning how to take one?"
"Unfortunately, I have yet to encounter a book for it."
You squeezed his shoulder, and the warmth of your touch penetrated all layers of his clothing that he had carefully planned. Navy blue suit, black tie, complete with a beige waistcoat and white striped shirt. Everything was new. "Don't worry," you said. "It just means the joke isn't funny to you. A good joke will make you laugh naturally."
"I see." Jumin fixed his tie. "I promise to laugh at your next joke."
"I said naturally. Honestly, Jumin. Please don't plan for it. You're going to give me performance anxiety."
"Then I look forward to your performance." He smirked, and you groaned. Something about you brought out the childlike side in him that he didn't know was still alive. "If you would wait here for a moment. I shall brew you a cup of tea. It won't be long."
Without waiting for your response, Jumin stood up, hung your coat on the silver coat rack by the hallway, and headed to the kitchen. Something was wrong with him. A smile kept threatening to break out of his face and there was a palpable beating in his throat when it should stay underneath his ribcage and he felt giddy about something. He was sure that this was abnormal. Was he finally living up to Zen's senseless claim that he was a strange creature? Jumin stowed these additional symptoms away for his next doctor's appointment. Forget MRI, he needed a full-body checkup.
Jumin heard a soft padding behind him as he turned on the kettle. Your footsteps were quiet, almost drowned by the gurgling of the boiling water and it reminded him of the elegance of Elizabeth the Third. He'd introduce you to her when she decided to make an appearance. The thought of the two of you getting along put a smile on his face.
"I thought you would've offered me wine before tea. Are you really Jumin?" you teased, peering from behind him. He was scooping oolong tea leaves into the strainer in a precise measurement when his muscles turned rigid. Your chin was nearly perched on his shoulder. He regretted that you didn't.
But Jumin dearly wished he knew either. He paused and looked over at you. Now he could see himself in your mischievous eyes. Now he saw how happy he was. The opportunity came sooner than he was prepared for. His breath hitched. "Would you like some wine instead?" he asked, keeping his gaze steady. "I have a wide variety you can choose from in the cellar."
"Tea is fine," you said. "I'll take anything you give me, really."
"Beware," Jumin said dryly. "You have not known me long. There could be poison in your drink."
It took a second for his joke to register, but when it did, you started to laugh. Jumin was stunned, then relaxed when he realised you were not under any pretences of politeness. He felt as if he got a high score for a competition he had unknowingly participated. He never used to put high importance on winning. As someone who consistently broke his own records, achievements were just another thing that his office and father would hold a customary celebration for.
But you were different. Your laughter was a prize he wanted to win all the time. He liked seeing you in joy, and liked that he was the source of it. It was a high that he never wanted to come down from.
"Did you copy that joke from your handbook?" you asked.
"I came up with it on the spot," said Jumin proudly, and your grin widened.
Your eyes flitted to the only china cup laid out on the marble countertop. "Aren't you making another for yourself?"
Jumin shook his head. "I'm not in the mood for tea."
You lifted a brow. "I am so surprised."
Jumin's forehead furrowed in genuine confusion. "Why would you be?"
You flailed your arms about. "Is tea not your passion?" you said. "You were fired up when you talked about it. That's all you've talked about. If I didn't know you better, I'd think it's your favourite drink in the world."
"I merely wanted to keep you warm, and a cup of tea was the fastest way to do it." Actually, Jumin thought being embraced by him would be faster, but he doubted you would accept his advanced advances. "You're the one who has been on my mind, not tea."
"Not tea," you repeated.
"It's nothing compared to you," Jumin affirmed.
"Oh." You pressed your palm against your cheek. "That's nice. You're nice." You gave a perfunctory sweep at his polished monochromatic penthouse, sparse but efficiently filled with the essential household items. "Your place is also nice."
But you were looking at everywhere but him, and that didn't feel as nice. "You might be the first person calling me nice besides V," Jumin said, deciding to focus on the positive. "And V is exempted as he is my closest friend. I'm not sure how to feel about this, to be honest. I'll have to think about it later."
"Take your time," you said, finally looking at him. "I'm not going anywhere."
Quietly, Jumin poured hot water into the teacup and stirred sugar into the steaming amber liquid, allowing the clinking of the teaspoon to fill the space he couldn't. For all his desire to have his interest in you reciprocated, he could not picture the reality if you did. He wouldn't know what to do with himself. He wanted to invite you into his mind, yet was frightened by the thought of you being repelled after knowing him.
"Careful, it's hot," Jumin warned as you lifted the teacup to your lips. "Tell me, how do you find it? Is it to your taste?"
You took your time sipping the tea. He suspected you did it to keep him on his toes, and had to admit that it was part of your intrigue. Jumin could never guess your next move. Anything he predicted you would prove him wrong in the most delightful way possible.
You looked up from the rim of the cup. "What if I say it isn't?"
A connoisseur in understanding your jest now, Jumin replied, "I shall melt into a puddle and lie on the floor until you give me an honest review."
"I will mop your puddle and wring it out the window."
He looked at you thoughtfully. "I'd say I'm offended, but I heard that committing murder is an expressway to one's heart."
"Sometimes even literally," you agreed.
Jumin's eyes widened. "The double meaning escaped me. You are a genius."
You set your cup down on its saucer with a delicate clink. "But is murder the only way to your heart?"
Jumin forgot the mechanism of speaking. Due to his years of experience with women whom he never spared a glance for, he could detect the act of flirting when he saw one. And you were flirting. With him. He was eighty-nine per cent sure of it. You deemed him worthy to be flirted with. Jumin almost slid down to his knees.
"No." He managed to get a full sentence out. "No," he tried again, "but you don't even have to try. Whatever you're doing, you are doing it well." Two better sentences. Magnificent.
"That's too bad," you said. Jumin noticed that your hand was still wrapped around your cup, steam unfurling on the top of it. You must still be cold. "I've been waiting to hack through your chest with an axe."
Jumin walked towards the heater controller and turned it on. "Is homicide the only thing in your mind?"
"It's more of an ad break from the thoughts of you."
At that, Jumin turned around. You had been thinking about him. He knew how impossible it was to stop thinking about you, and your admission was making him lightheaded. Did you ever dream of him and then scramble for your phone the first thing in the morning just to hear his voice? Did you ever yearn to talk about him to your friends the way he did, except his only friend was doing his habitual disappearance and the loneliness was more profound now that you were his constant excitement but he had no one to tell it to? Did you have anyone you hold dear to your heart? Were you open to considering him as one someday? It was not yet appropriate to be so upfront with his questions, he knew.
But one question should be fine. "How long have you been thinking of me?" Jumin asked.
You leaned against the counter and crossed your legs. "I talk to you every day. So, every day." He wondered if your composure was a facade, the way his was.
Jumin nodded. "We share the same habit. I can't quite recall what I used to think about before you entered our lives."
"Your darling white cat, the cat projects that generate a steady loss for your company, and some new cat-friendly inventions? Jaehee's nightmares, basically."
Jumin chuckled. "You know me well. I must say I'm surprised." It wasn't so bad to be known. He could get used to the feeling. "Assistant Kang doesn't appreciate the fine things in life. It's a pity that Elizabeth the Third is hiding somewhere right now. If you see her, you'll understand why I do all those things for her."
"You love her," you said kindly. "I understand that enough."
Jumin stared at you. You kept saying the right things and he kept falling, falling, falling.
"You've finished your tea," Jumin noted, but not without regret. He dreaded having to let you go.
You studied the empty cup. "Wow, I think I inhaled it. You were right, it was the best tea I've ever tasted. Thank you."
"I hope you will stay longer. Do you have other arrangements for the evening?" Jumin, who had arranged his whole weekend around your visit, calmly inquired.
"I don't," you said, with just as much calmness.
"My collection doesn't stop at drinks," he said. "I have a brand new record player and an array of classic vinyls. You can peruse them if you'd like. A three-star Michelin chef will be flying in to prepare dinner and you can request anything you want, provided that you do it three hours prior. There's also a gym on the second floor, though exercising is probably not the best activity since you don't bring a change of clothes." He paused. "You don't happen to bring one, do you?"
"Jumin, I—no. But I could wear yours if I so desperately need to shower here."
He thought he saw your eyes suspiciously glittered, but it was gone when you blinked. "I don't have clothes that would fit you perfectly." He frowned. "They're all tailored to my body, you see. I'm afraid you wouldn't find much comfort in them. Now, would you like to sit down? I've made you stand for too long." He guided you to the kitchen island, fingers light around your wrist, and pulled out one of the brass bar stools. "Please excuse my bad manners today. Something must have come over me. I don't tend to be like this."
You settled in your seat only to swivel back to meet his towering figure. Your knees nudged his legs, and Jumin was stunned, unmoving. He thought an attraction was supposed to burn him alive, to light him up from the inside. What he felt now was akin to petrification. It crept up on him from the ground he stood and incapacitated his ability to form coherent thoughts.
"Jumin," you enunciated his name with great care. He had never thought his name was beautiful until it lulled out of your mouth. He wanted to brand it into his memory.
"Yes," he said, because it was the only thing his mouth could form.
"Your house sounds like a treat."
"That's because it is. You can entertain yourself here. Whatever you want, I will do my best to provide it for you."
"Other guys could give me those too. There have been some, you know," you confessed, and Jumin was torn between wanting to know more about your past and quelling down the illogical jealousy it spurred. "Gold-dipped bouquets with diamonds, fancy restaurants where they ordered for me without asking about my preferences, jewellery that I wouldn't pick for myself." Your voice was tinted with slight distaste, but it was gone in the next instance. "Do you think I was swayed by them?"
Now Jumin's gaze turned sharp. This was a test, he realised. Your intention was not to compare him to other men, nor was it to flaunt how desired you were. Jumin knew the latter well without needing you to prove it to him. He felt the torrent of his desire all the time. It threatened to wash him ashore and pull him back into the raging sea, never letting him be at peace until he could be certain you wanted him back. So what would you get out of your question? Whatever your goal was, he knew what he was supposed to do. You favoured honesty, just as he did. That was one of the many things he respected about you.
"I doubt you were," Jumin said. "Your affection isn't the kind that could be bought. I may not know you intimately, but I know you would not budge under insensitive bribery, and your tale reeked of one. What they did was foul and not driven by the best intentions. That's not how you, or anyone, should be treated."
Your expression softened as you reached for his hand. "I know you're not trying to impress me with your wealth. I'm sorry if I made you think so. I meant to show you that I'd be here even without you throwing those things at me. You called me just to meet up and I came right away. If I stay back, it's because I want to spend more time with you." You averted your eyes. "Did you have to make me say all that?"
Emboldened by your hold that you hadn't let go, Jumin tilted your chin and you leaned forward by a fraction. "You enjoy my company," he said, assessing your earnest face. He could hear his racing heartbeat in his ears. "But will you stay?"
"You'd really like an encore to embarrass me," you grumbled. "Didn't you hear what I just said?"
"You phrased it as a hypothesis. I cannot be sure that staying with me is what you want unless you state it clearly," Jumin pressed. Though he was always surrounded by people, no one had ever bothered to stay. Not for long. Not for the person he was.
His fear and desperation must have shown on his face, for you let out a small breath and gently squeezed his arm, before trailing your sight to the empty cup waiting on the counter. "I think you should refill my tea," you said slowly. "I need more if we'll talk into the night, won't I?"
The warmth from your hold spread throughout his body and a smile broke through Jumin's face, his uncertainty receding. Someone as beautiful and brilliant as you, a gem rarer than his tea—for those tea leaves could be reproduced but you were one of a kind—wanted him as much as he wanted you. It was the first real smile he wore in a while. "We can switch to something stronger after dinner," Jumin suggested.
"Wine," you guessed. Oh, how he loved that you could read his mind. "I knew it. You always default to wine. Farewell, tea. His affair with you has been short but memorable."
Jumin was all too eager to agree. "Farewell."
Jumin hoped it would be a long, long time before his relationship with you could end. If it would ever end.
-
The footnotes that I thought would be an occasional extra but they just won't go away:
This fic is inspired by good dates and bad dates and that early crush feeling when you don't quite know the person yet so everything feels exciting and scary.
Don't worry, Jumin's tea rambles didn't deviate from canon. On day 8 he wishes you to learn tea brewing since all his family does it. I thought it'd be fun to highlight his nervousness by making him do something unexpected, especially since he's the type who would randomly do something out of pocket while still maintaining his gravitas.
The tea's legend is based on Da Hong Pao, a very rare, government-protected Chinese tea that you can only get if the president honours you some and from auctions. I didn't think I'd research that deep for accuracy for a mere fic but what am I if not committed.
The header is made to seem like a cheeky ad in the spirit of Jumin's tea endorsement. Contemporary fun with a touch of antiquity is what I was going for to capture the fic's mood and Jumin's preference. The challenge was to make a dynamic animation without looking flat or too complicated but still fit the time, format and size constraints. People still need to be able to immediately read the text, which means no over-the-top entrances and transitions. Truthfully, I die a little bit inside whenever I have to sacrifice aesthetics for function but it is what it is!
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#jumin week 2023#jujuw23d3#xela writes#jumin han x you#jumin x reader#jumin han fluff#mysme jumin#jumin han#mm jumin#mystic messenger#mystic messenger fanfic#jumin han fic
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Quality Time
✦ Written for Jumin Week 2023
✦ Jumin x Reader
✦ Words: 1110
There have been no shortage of luxurious places you and Jumin have stayed at together since getting married. You have become quite comfortable with the level of lavish luxury being in his world has brought you, there's little left that you think could surprise you.
Jumin, however, has one last secret hidden up his sleeve that he has apparently been keeping until he felt like the time was right.
You had both been very busy lately, occupied with work for the RFA and the company, and having to spend some time apart because of his business trips. Coming home to an empty house and eating alone had become more common occurrences. You wake at different times and get very little time to enjoy together every day. Maybe a few words as he slips into bed - you're half asleep already - or a quick I love you as you cross each other in the hall.
While neither of you mention it, you know you're both feeling the effects of being apart. You had been daydreaming about romantic dinners and evenings in the gardens and that lovely weekend you had spent together a few months ago at the vineyard. There was so much you wanted to tell him that you simply didn't have the time to.
Little did you know that Jumin had spent his time at work - between the endless meetings - planning a solution to your problem.
You wake up one morning to find him in the kitchen, fully dressed and sipping on a mug of coffee. It ls long past when he was supposed to leave for work, though he doesn't seem to be too concerned.
"Good morning, Jumin?"
"Oh, good morning, Darling. I hope I didn't wake you."
"No, you didn't, I'm just wondering why you're still home. I thought you had a big day at work today?"
"Don't worry about that, it's all taken care of. Did you sleep well?"
You nod slowly.
"That's good, you were up working till late last night. Now that you're up, I have something I've been wanting to tell you." He keeps his tone light, airy, but watches you attentively as he tells you the next part. "I have taken the next two weeks off of work and have planned a trip for us. It has been too long since we have had time to pay attention to simply each other."
He has found that he greatly enjoys catching you off guard like this, finding little ways (or big ones) to surprise you. You're still in your pyjamas, eyes bleary and eyeing his mug of coffee enviously.
“...What?” Your voice is still a bit hoarse from sleep.
He chuckles and holds his arms out, inviting you closer to him. Instinctively, you tuck yourself against him and gratefully take his coffee after he offers it to you. You take a sip, processing his words again.
“And where are we going?”
“I thought I would show you our island. It's a travesty that in all the time we have been married I haven't yet been able to enjoy it with you.”
Your eyes widen with surprise and he beams. It's very cute. Definitely worth waiting to surprise you with like this.
“Excuse me? Our island?”
“Oh, hadn't I told you?" He knows he hasn't. "My father gifted it to me as a birthday present many years ago. I have never gone to visit but I hear it's beautiful."
There's a glint in his eye that tells you he's enjoying your reaction. But he's also dead serious. You hesitate for a moment, weighing out all the work you still have to do, and then it hits you. A private island. Alone, with Jumin, for two weeks. The work will wait.
“Well, I think I should get packing, then!”
He laughs, a proper, hearty laugh as you pull him with you back to your room to start packing, all your earlier tiredness forgotten.
✧✦✧
The island is lush, covered in countless flowers, trees and bushes in a sea of green. You couldn't dream of counting all the different species of plant you've spotted since arriving on the island. You had flown in (by helicopter!) just a few hours after Jumin had informed you about the trip, and it still barely feels real.
You stay at a house with big airy windows and a porch facing the ocean. It's a world away from the penthouse and the fancy hotel suites you have stayed at before.
It takes you some time to get used to the silence. Save for a few staff who you quickly get to know, there is nobody else on the island. No city noises just outside your door, nothing calling your attention except for Jumin (and, oh, he's quite demanding).
You fall asleep to the sound of the ocean waves outside your window and warmth of Jumin's arms around you. You both sleep in in the mornings, Jumin's strict internal clock finally breaking after a few days. Both of you wake up wrapped in a mess of sheets and limbs, and it takes some time to summon the energy to extract yourselves to go for breakfast (or is it brunch by that time?). You take turns preparing food and enjoy it together on the terrace, still half-dressed.
Sometimes, you take a few steps off the porch and spend your afternoon on the beach. Lounging side-by-side, reading books and admiring the view. While under the sun, time seems to pass very slowly.
You have discussions over lunch about arbitrary topics, content to pick each others’ brains for a while. His intelligence has always been one of his most attractive qualities to you. You ask him questions about countless topics and he answers them one by one, pleased to be able to satiate your curiosity.
Jumin is nothing if not an excellent conversationalist. You have made it your mission to find a topic on which he isn’t at least a little familiar. It's not going well so far. He asks you plenty of questions of his own, and listens to your answers attentively. He has told you countless times how much you have taught him, how much your perspective on all things means to him.
You share dinner over a bottle of wine and a CD of some music you both enjoy – the player a relic from long before either of you ever visited the island. It's better than anything you could have imagined. His face lit up by candlelight, sharing a delicious meal with nothing to do but enjoy each other's company.
To date, it's the best surprise he has ever given you.
#juminweek2023#jujuw23d3#mystic messenger#mystic messenger Jumin han#mystic messenger jumin#jumin han#mysme jumin#mysme jumin han#mysme#my writing
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˓˓ก₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎ค˒˒ It’s Day 3 of Jumin Week 2023! ˓˓ก₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎ค˒˒
Today’s Prompt: QUALITY TIME
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💜The Official Jumin Week Schedule is Here!💜
As per your voting Jumin Week will last for six days, starting with Jumin's Birthday the 5 of October and remember that you can participate with about anything (fanfics, fanarts, moodboards, playlists, pancakes?) Lol the sky is the limit! (you can also combine them with other events 😉), just make the prompts your own and have fun! 😺💜
When posting your works during this week, remember to tag your works with:
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#jumin week 2023
#jujuw23d1, jujuw23d2, jujuw23d3, etc. (These are your daily tags to let us know which day prompts you're submitting)
These tags will help with finding your works to reblog (and if you don't see your post rebloged here you can always @us)
Have fun everyone! It's loving Jumin days! (again 💜)
For The Han!! 👑💜✨
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