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Laundry days were some of Jongin’s favorite days.
After morning classes and yoga, Jongin took his laundry bag and dropped by the neighborhood’s laundromat. He reveled in the laundromat’s fresh, clean scent upon entry; the silence of the establishment if he was by himself. Time he spent waiting for his laundry to dry was either used online or reading mystery novels. Sometimes, one or two residents from nearby apartment complexes would come. One of them was the middle-aged man Jongin fondly remembered as the uncle who saved him from his painful inexperience of doing laundry on a fateful morning two years ago.
Jongin from two years ago had been struck by an embarrassing realization of how absolutely clueless he was about operating washers and dryers; how much detergent and fabric conditioner to use, when to throw in the dryer sheets. The uncle had probably caught a whiff of his distress and approached, kindly guiding him and imparting knowledge easily understood. After successfully loading the washer, it occurred to Jongin how he’d had it easy living at home, with his mother doing the laundry for him while he concentrated on his studies, and, later, accomplishing ballet dreams.
Jongin two years later was a far cry from that amateur adult. Though he still committed clumsy mistakes, doing laundry became a skill he eventually mastered. Dread no longer followed him on his weekly visits to the laundromat. He confidently helped others who underwent similar struggles like his. Occasionally, he would meet and chat with the kind uncle. If their laundries finished around the same time, Jongin treated him to a coffee at the café down the block.
It had been a long time since Jongin set foot in that laundromat. Encounters with the kind uncle didn’t stop there; from time to time, Jongin crossed paths with him at the corner store or caught him entering the barber shop on the way to the bus stop. The kind uncle asked if he patronized another laundromat now since I haven’t seen you there for close to a year.
“I do my laundry somewhere else now.” Jongin smiled to himself for the clever answer.
After morning classes and yoga, Jongin now took his laundry bag and headed for Sehun’s apartment. He would’ve continued using the laundromat if money wasn’t an issue. Jongin considered doing laundry at home if his weekly budget fell short but knew his mother would do it without being asked. He wished to rely less on her with his own chores. Sehun learned of his dilemma and told him he could use the washing machine and dryer at his apartment, both practically untouched since his clothes were always handled by his family’s hired help.
It took a long time before Jongin warmed up to the idea. He and Sehun were only friends then. Several relationship developments later, laundry day at Sehun’s apartment became routine. From a financial viewpoint, Jongin could save a few thousand won each week. In other aspects, he could freely lounge around in an old shirt and sweatpants without fear of judgment. Sehun’s company was a huge bonus, too. Jongin’s day-off fell on a Sunday this season, increasing the chances of doing laundry (and spending more time) together.
Sehun carried two baskets of warm, scented clothes to the folding table. Together they started folding. “Remember when you made weekly visits to your neighborhood laundromat? I should start charging you every time you come here to use the washing machine and dryer.”
“I’ll pay you in kisses.” Jongin pursed his lips in an exaggerated pucker. Sehun snorted, rolling his eyes in feigned exasperation. “I’m your boyfriend. You shouldn’t be charging me anything. If anyone should be charging here, I should be paid for washing your clothes with mine.”
“I pay you with love,” Sehun answered, straight-faced, words resounding with a deafening cheekiness that reduced Jongin to a high-pitched laughing mess. “My love is priceless, I’ll have you know.” His mouth trembled with barely contained laughter then proceeded with his task.
Sehun’s impressive talent for folding clothes was a sight Jongin never tired of watching. The shocking discovery was made three months into dating. Sehun had tagged along to the laundromat on a whim, calling it a date. There, Jongin had taught him how to use the coin changer for bills and work the appliances. There, Sehun had marveled at everything with the excitement of a child in a candy store; demonstrated his magic on Jongin’s clothes by folding and segregating them in neat piles. Jongin’s confusion had probably been too obvious in his face—Sehun glimpsed at him and revealed he used to help a laundry aunt with folding, carrying her lessons and teachings with him to this day.
They worked in comfortable silence until Jongin finished his workload. He took some from the other basket to help; got distracted by Sehun’s relaxed pace and meticulous technique. His gaze ultimately wandered upward and focused on Sehun’s face. His concentrated look pushed out a dreamy sigh from Jongin’s lips.
“Oh Sehun, do you know how handsome you are?”
“My parents tell me every day.” Sehun flashed Jongin a cheeky grin then resumed his task. “You do, too.”
“But how could you look ten times sexier folding laundry? How does that make sense? You’re so attractive right now I don’t know what to do with myself.”
Sehun’s responding laughter was loud and boisterous. A slow blush stained his cheeks. “Are you turned on watching me folding your teddy bear boxers?” He sounded incredulous but amused.
“Hey, those boxers are comfy.” Jongin pouted. “And can you blame me? Everything about you is sexy.”
“Just because I’m folding teddy bear boxers,” Sehun deadpanned, with a half smile. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Jongin raised one shoulder in fake indifference, but knew his smile gave him away. “Maybe I’m just going to have to keep you. I do want to watch a Parisian sunset at Seine’s docks on our honeymoon, just saying.”