25 September 2015 @ 12:03 pm
Firewall (for lumosflowers)  
For: [livejournal.com profile] lumosflowers
From: [livejournal.com profile] xalfoy

Title: Firewall
Rating: PG
Length: 4362 words
Summary: Junmyeon’s job sends him across the world. After accidentally running into a stranger at the airport, they end up with their phones mixed up.

Notes: hi lumosflowers!! i took a bit of liberty with your prompt, hope it’s alright :)




7:01 AM (PST)

A bustling crossroads for businessmen, travelers, families, couples, and those flying solo, LAX could be Junmyeon’s second home. Bit odd really, to call a place that lead somewhere else, anywhere else, home, but Junmyeon spent more time with the TSA than with his mother.

The airport was usually a great place to people-watch; he liked to look around and try to guess the backgrounds of passerby, what business they had in LA, and which airline they were flying. Except today, he was cutting it close. Instead of arriving the standard 180 minutes ahead of time (and considering it was summer, it could possibly take more), he was pushing 95 minutes even when he’d just been running under 85 on the freeway.

His foot tapped loudly against the tile as his impatience grew. The person in front of him was taking an excruciatingly long time, for someone who didn’t have much luggage. A suitcase sat on the scale, and the person, dressed in a gray t-shirt, black sweatpants that cinched at the ankles, and a blue Dodgers cap, was talking animatedly with the attendant, who had a thin sheet of condescension plastered to her face. Finally, the man was handed back his passport, and grabbed his suitcase off the scale. Junmyeon stepped forward, but before he took another step, the trunk rolled over his toe.

He suppressed the cry of pain, but the person to whom the trunk belonged was already profusely apologizing. It was the one who had just been at the counter, and it wasn’t a man. It was a boy.

“I am so sorry, sir,” the boy repeated for the fifth time.

“It’s fine,” Junmyeon said curtly, even though it didn’t feel anywhere close to fine.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking—” the boy started again.

“It’s fine,” Junmyeon said with an air of finality that the boy almost missed, before he closed his mouth, nodded, and went on his way.

Junmyeon finished his check-in at lightning speed, not saying a word to the clerk except a polite “thank you” before he left the counter.

Security. Everyone’s least favorite part of the process. He nods at Ron as he hands over his passport, ID, and boarding pass. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you this soon,” Ron said as he handed them back.

“Emergency at headquarters,” Junmyeon responds. “See you, Ron.” He moves past him.

“It better not be soon,” Ron calls as he looks over the next passenger’s documents.

There was an ungodly amount of people at the airport. It was frustrating that all his flights were international, otherwise he’d probably have an easier time at Burbank.

He removes his watch, phone, wallet, and keys and places them in the clear basket, along with his laptop. He drags his suitcase onto the conveyor belt, and unlaces his shoes. As soon as his right foot is freed from its leather confines a dull throb began to pulse through his big toe. And to think he’d forgotten about it. He awkwardly shuffles through the scanner, grabs his baskets and luggage and heads over to the benches.

Putting his keys and phone by his side, he laces up his loafers, and rubs a smudge of dirt from the tip of one. He can feel that he’s late, in the anxiety that urges him to get up, and move, and keep moving. Grabbing his stuff, he takes off to his terminal, suitcase in tow.

9:23 AM (PST)

Sitting on the plane, aisle seat, relieved and reassured, he pulls out his phone to turn it off. Yet the lock screen doesn’t display a picture of him and his mother, but rather a female in a risque outfit. Shit.

Passengers, at this time, please turn off any electronic devices. Thank you.

Panic seeps in as he turns the phone off, wondering what the hell he’s going to do. Flying in for an emergency meeting only to be rendered incommunicable was not going to bode well. He flops back against the seat, and closes his eyes, debating his possibilities.

It was going to be a long flight.

4:00 PM (KST)

Junmyeon was now having a Situation. He always told his mother when he landed, and was sure to call her as soon as he was at baggage claim. He was approaching the turnstiles now, and although he had even resorted to guessing the phone’s password, all he had been able to do was lock it for 15 minutes. He was getting desperate.

“Excuse me!” he called out to a passerby, but the man merely looked at him funnily because walking away, quickening his pace. It took Junmyeon a moment to realize that he had spoken in English.

He tried to stop several more people, but even when he spoke in Korean, they ignored him. Finally, he was able to borrow a girl’s cell phone; she was still giggling with her friend, and he heard her whisper something about him looking like “Suho”, whoever that was. It rang… and rang… and rang…

A click.

This is Junmyeon. I’m unavailable right now—

Damn.

5:00 PM (KST)

Junmyeon needed to find a payphone. And fast. He hailed a taxi, and told the driver to get him into Incheon.

“Not Seoul?” the cabbie had asked.

“Not unless I can borrow your cell phone,” was Junmyeon’s reply, and the cabbie raised his eyebrows, but shook his head.

He was trying to think of where to stop. The most logical place would be a hotel, they would definitely have a phone, and were most likely to let him use it, given his suit and suitcase. But he hadn’t been to Incheon in a while, so he asked the driver, “Where’s the closest hotel?”

“About a few minutes away,” he responded. “That where you want to go?”

Junmyeon nodded, but he noticed how the driver still regarded him oddly. He became aware of the radio turning on, but still concentrated on what he was going to do: call his mother, then, call his phone. It actually terrified him a bit, to not know what kind of person had his phone, or where in the world it was. LAX: crossroads to the world. It could be anywhere.

“You gonna answer that?” the cabbie’s voice interrupted his worries. Answer what? Junmyeon thought, but then realized it wasn’t the radio that was playing, but the cell phone in his pocket.

He looked at the number on the screen. His number. He slid to answer.

“Hello?” he said, deciding English was his best option.

“Hello,” came the reply, restrained by politeness. “You have my phone.”

“And you have mine,” Junmyeon replied, guard all the way up.

“Yes, well, we are both in Korea, which is a relief. Although, I’m in Busan, and I see that you’re in Incheon at the moment,” the voice somehow sounded familiar to Junmyeon.

Junmyeon was definitely suspicious now. “How do you know where I am?”

“I have GPS tracking on my phone,” came the reply, and Junmyeon had to admit it was smart. Then, something else occurred to him.

“How did you unlock my phone?” he inquired. “Did my—”

There was a laugh on the other line, sharp and clear. “Your mother called, found some stranger when she was looking for her son, and demanded to know what had happened. I told her we must have switched phones at the airport, and she gave me your passcode.”

Junmyeon sighed, relief washing over him to know that his mother knew what had happened. “So did you give her your number so she could reach me?”

“Uhh, no,” the voice said. “I didn’t think of that.” There was a pause before he added, “I think she likes me though.”

“That’s great,” Junmyeon’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’m so glad my mother likes you. Can you give me your passcode then?”

“Um, about that… well, in short, no,” came the hesitant reply.

“No?!” Junmyeon repeated, too loudly, judging by the cab driver’s reaction.

“I have… sensitive information on there,” the voice said.

Oh. Well, that explained the wallpaper. “I won’t look at your porn,” Junmyeon said curtly. “I just need to call my mother, and you, if needed. You haven’t even told me your name,” he noted.

“No!” exclaimed the voice. “That’s not what— That’s not what I meant,” Junmyeon could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

“Right,” he responded disbelieving, “that’s why your wallpaper is some sort of hentai.”

“No!” the voice shouted again, and his red cheeks were evident from the way he began to mumble. “I, uh, it wasn’t me that— my friend set that.”

Junmyeon rolled his eyes, despite it being a phone call. “Look, I promise not to touch anything other than the phone app. I just need the passcode now, to call my mother.”

There was a pause before a quiet, quite serious reply. “How do I know I can trust you?”

That stopped Junmyeon, because those were the same thoughts he had had. Judging from the voice’s speech, he assumed he was talking to someone younger than him, someone just coming out of, or possibly still in, high school. Which he supposed, wasn’t that big of an age gap, given that he was young despite his profession, but he had to admit, the caution was warranted.

“My name is Kim Junmyeon,” he began. “I’m 22, and I’m the CEO of SNCJ Managing Company. I can assure you I’m an honest person, and you can ask my mother if you really don’t believe me.” He waited, but there was no laugh. “I live in LA with my mother. I dropped out of Stanford after freshman year to focus on the company. My phone is also extremely important to me, and contains some quite sensitive information, so seeing as you have my passcode…” There was still no reply. “Seeing as you have access to my phone and can contact me, it only makes sense that I contact you as well.” Silence. “I don’t even know your name!” Junmyeon snapped.

“I’m Jongdae, I’m 19, and I go to Berkeley.”

“Well, Jongdae,” Junmyeon said, strained, “what do you do that your phone contains such sensitive information?”

“I work with computers,” Jongdae replied.

Junmyeon had assumed as much. “That’s great, but what do you expect me to do? Buy another phone for the time being?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Er, yes?” Jongdae asked meekly.

Junmyeon heaved a sigh, but decided this was a pointless flight. “I’m going to be in Seoul for a meeting tomorrow. When can you come up?”

There was a pause (there seemed to be a lot of those with this kid), before “Er, I was hoping you could come to Busan… I’m kinda short on money.”

This kid was unbelievable. “That’s going to be a few days. If you come up, I’ll reimburse you if you need.”

“Sorry, but I don’t have enough on me. Unless you’re willing to transfer me some?” He sounded almost hopeful.

Junmyeon snorted. “Just don’t touch my contacts or reply to any texts or emails and I’ll live off another phone for a few days.”

“Alright,” Jongdae said, and Junmyeon could hear the slight disappointment the kid was trying to hide, before the call ended, and the dial tone was all that was left. Of all the people to switch phones with…, well he supposed the kid was annoying, but certainly not the worst of the worst.

“Uh, sir?” the cabbie asked. “We’re here.”

Junmyeon nearly smacked himself. Outside, the hotel waited for him. He developed his plan as he grabbed all his stuff: he would go in, call his mother, then catch another cab to Seoul, buy a phone, check in… Paying the driver, he stepped out and rushed towards the revolving door.

The driver took one last look at the strange passenger. “I swear I’ve seen him on TV or something...” he mumbled to himself.

10:02 PM (KST)

Junmyeon held the cheap smartphone in his hand, debating whether or not to call Jongdae. Was the kid expecting to be updated? He was certain he was overthinking this, but decided to text him, getting a funny feeling when he had to change the name over his number to ‘Jongdae’.

To: Jongdae
This is Junmyeon.

There was a reply in an instant.

From: Jongdae
got it

Junmyeon didn’t like to think he was old, because 22 was not old at all, but he had no idea what emoji followed Jongdae’s text.

Having done all he could, he picked up his book, and robed and equipped with his cup of tea, he settled into the reading chair, sipping each time he turned the page.

7:00 AM (KST)

Perhaps jetlag was something one never really got used to. The alarm waking him up sounded foreign, until Junmyeon remembered that his phone was in the hands of a 19-year-old Berkeley student somewhere in Busan.

Junmyeon has always hated getting up. He drags his toothbrush across his teeth, slowly pulls on his clothes, and fumbles his laces three times before they’re tied properly.

He arrives at the conference room 15 minutes early, and had greeted everyone on the way warmly, and most had smiled back, glad to see him, especially Sunyoung, the receptionist.

He sits at the head of the table, and waits patiently for the other members of the board to file in. Feeling a vibration, he pulls out his temporary phone, and finds a message from his mother… but a picture of a boy. What an adorable young man, his mother had written.

Junmyeon snorted. Adorable, his— Hold on, the kid looked familiar. He looked familiar, his voice sounded familiar… he was the boy! The boy from the check-in counter, the one who had taken an eternity then run over his toe, not that Junmyeon was still bitter about it, was Jongdae. He’s sure it’s him. But what does he do with this information? Does he let Jongdae know, or does he just wait until they meet face-to-face?

To the right, Minho clears his throat, and Junmyeon sees the table is now filled. “Very well, we will now begin our meeting,” he announces. “There have been signs of a possible cyber attack on the digital branch…”

10:00 AM (KST)
With the meeting adjourned, Junmyeon pulls out the phone again, having felt it buzz a few more times. His mother had sent him a few more KKTs, complimenting Jongdae, asking if they were friends, and if she would get to meet him in person, and one from Jongdae, who wanted to know if he had received any messages from a Byun Baekhyun.

Junmyeon replied with a simple “no”, and a few seconds later, there was a sad sticker from Jongdae.

To: Jongdae
Why do you reply so fast? Don’t you have anything to do?

From: Jongdae
nah im just visiting cousins. playing w the little ones

Junmyeon was still wondering whether he should share his revelation about Jongdae’s identity with the kid himself, but decided it would be better to act surprised once they met, as Jongdae was sure to be.

The rest of the day, Junmyeon stayed at his computer, surveying the suspicions signs of an upcoming hack. It seemed like someone had been scoping out the system, as none of the IT or Maintenance workers had been scheduled to touch it.

His phone buzzed.

From: Jongdae
so how was your meeting o3o

To: Jongdae
How did you know I had a meeting?

From: Jongdae
you told me yesterday

To: Jongdae
Did I?

From: Jongdae
yes

From: Jongdae
so how was it

To: Jongdae
Why is it any of your concern?

Jongdae took a bit longer to respond this time.

From: Jongdae
ur mom said ur stressed bc there was an emergency

To: Jongdae
I’d really appreciate it if you stopped talking to my mother.

From: Jongdae
why? scared she’ll like me more? owo

Cheeky brat.

To: Jongdae
No, I feel uncomfortable with you knowing so much about my personal life.

From: Jongdae
but idk anything abt ur personal life. ur mom only talks abt ur job

Because, Junmyeon realized, that was about the only thing he talked to her about.

From: Jongdae
what was the emergency tho

To: Jongdae
That’s classified.

From: Jongdae
:< you cant even tell me the gist of it?

To: Jongdae
No.

From: Jongdae
:<

From: Jongdae
:<

From: Jongdae
:<

This went on relentlessly for about three minutes. The kid was incorrigible.

To: Jongdae
It was just a minor problem with digital downloads.

From: Jongdae
thats ur business speaking

To: Jongdae
What?

From: Jongdae
it wasnt ‘minor’ at all was it?

From: Jongdae
btw i can help. im a comp sci major u know :>

To: Jongdae
Yeah? So was I.

From: Jongdae
u were??? u seem like a business major

To: Jongdae
I doubt you could help, and even if you could, you’re not authorized to do so.

From: Jongdae
ouch

From: Jongdae
harsh

He was typing out a reply, but before he could finish, Minho came in looking for him, and his was relegated from his hand to his pocket.

8:00 AM (KST)
Junmyeon stays at headquarters for a few more days to make sure there are no more problems or threats of problems. He and Jongdae are somehow on texting terms, and his colleagues have noticed his increased phone time.

“Did you finally find someone?” Minho teases, and Junmyeon rolls his eyes at his friend.

“It’s the guy who has my phone,” Junmyeon said, but Minho’s smile remained.

“My question still stands,” he said as he walked away, chuckling, with his cup of coffee, leaving Junmyeon standing alone by the creamer irritated and confused.

Once everything at the company is running smoothly again, he relinquishes control back to Minho, and sets off for Busan.

To: Jongdae
I’m going to be in Busan tomorrow.

From: Jongdae
kk

Jongdae gives him the address, and Junmyeon stares at it for a bit, feeling oddly bittersweet. He’d only known the kid a few days, but despite his mostly annoying texts, there were also ones that were almost endearing. Not to mention that Jongdae was probably able to talk to his mother more than Junmyeon was, and about a lot more than work. His mother liked Jongdae, and he supposed he did too.

12:34 PM (KST)

He’d forgotten what the coast felt like. It was unbelievably windy, and he looked completely out of place, having packed nothing but a few suits.

The cab stopped at a house right in front of the beach, and although Junmyeon preferred the city, he was a bit envious of the gorgeous view.

There was no doorbell, but as soon as he walked up the porch, he heard footsteps from inside. The door was pulled open to reveal Jongdae, in a cap, tank top, and what looked like swimming trunks.
“Hey!” he greeted Junmyeon, but his smile slipped as he took in Junmyeon’s face. “You… you’re the guy from the airport!”

“Yeah,” Junmyeon replied, deciding not to fake surprise. “And you’re the one who ran over my toe with your suitcase.”

Jongdae had the decency to look sheepish. “Come in,” he mumbled.

Junmyeon had expected a quick exchange, and then he would be on his way, but he complied and stepped inside. As soon as he did, a little girl bounded up to him. “Hi! My name is Eunji! Are you Jongdae-oppa’s friend?” She bowed to him.

He bowed back, then glanced over at Jongdae, whose mouth was shaped like an ‘o’ at the realization that not only had he not bowed to Junmyeon, but he had also spoken to him in English. Junmyeon smirked.

“Are you coming swimming with us?” the little girl asked, and Junmyeon laughed nervously.

“No, I just came to get something from Jongdae,” he replied.

“You should come swim with us!” the little girl exclaimed. “Jongdae won’t mind, right oppa?” She turned to her cousin.

“Er, Eunji-ah, Junmyeon-ssi is very busy and doesn’t have time to play with us,” Jongdae covered, but then looked over, “unless he really wants to.”

Junmyeon shook his head frantically before Eunji turned to him as well. “I mean,” he smiled, “I would like to, but I don’t have swim trunks.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Jongdae backed him up, “okay, Eunji, start putting on sunscreen and I’ll meet you by the door.”

He took off down the hall, and whispered to Junmyeon as he passed him, “I’m going to get your phone.”

“You should stay, Junmyeon-ssi,” Eunji said as she slathered sunscreen over her arms and legs. “The beach is so fun, and the water feels really nice. It’s so hot today.” She smiled up at him, then began rubbing her face with the lotion.

“I really would like to, but I can’t swim without swim trunks,” Junmyeon explained, wishing Jongdae would hurry up.

“You can borrow one of Jongdae-oppa’s, can’t you?” she asked, puffing her cheeks.

“I mean—,” but he was interrupted by Eunji holding out the bottle of sunscreen to him.

“Can you put it on my back?” she asked sweetly. “I can’t reach, and oppa usually does it for me.”

As he helps her, she begins talking again. “I think Jongdae-oppa really likes you.” She scrunches up her forehead and her mouth. “Are you the person oppa always talks to on his phone?”

“What?” It’s out of his mouth before Junmyeon can process it.

She continues. “Oppa is always typing on his phone, and when I ask him about it, he says he’s talking to someone.” She cranes her neck to the side to stare at him. “Is that you?”

It wasn’t a hard question, but it seemed to carry so much more than a little girl’s words. “I… yes. Yes, that’s me.” He grabs a paper towel to wipe his hands with.

Eunji nods. “I thought so. Yes, I think Jongdae-oppa likes you. If he didn’t, why would he talk to you so much?”

That was an even better question, and Junmyeon had no response for it.

At that time, Jongdae came back, Junmyeon’s phone in hand. “Here you go,” he said, handing it to him. Junmyeon pockets it, but before he can say goodbye, Eunji speaks up again.

“Oppa! Can Junmyeon-ssi borrow one of your swim trucks? He wants to go swimming with us,” she positively beams, and so Junmyeon just nods and smiles weakly. Jongdae gives him a confused look before heading back down the hall.

“Eunji,” Junmyeon starts, but she puts a hand out to stop him.

“Sorry for being rude,” she says, “but Jongdae-oppa likes you.”

However, it seems Eunji’s plan ultimately fails, because Jongdae says one thing to him all afternoon, which was “I didn’t know you had abs.”

He ends up staying for dinner as well, and Jongdae becomes a little more talkative. His aunt and uncle are back by the evening, and all 4 of them are in the kitchen cooking. Jongdae has apparently told them the story of their switched phones, as they are completely comfortable with him and welcome him warmly.

“You should really change your wallpaper,” Junmyeon tells Jongdae as he peels lettuce. “I mean, I would have assumed you would have, if your friend was the one who set it.”

Jongdae laughs nervously until his aunt and uncle turn away, then glares at Junmyeon, who chuckles, before rolling his eyes and shrugging. “I don’t have anything to change it to.”

Junmyeon deadpans. “You have that view, and you couldn’t just snap a picture?”

“Well, no, because I just got my phone back today,” Jongdae reminds him.

“Right,” Junmyeon concedes.

They eat dinner out on the beach, setting up a small table for the pots and bowls. Afterwards, Junmyeon and Jongdae lay out on the sand, each on their own blanket; Junmyeon watches the waves, Jongdae watches Junmyeon.

“So,” Junmyeon starts, “I’m heading back to LA tomorrow.”

“Oh,” is all Jongdae can think of.

A peaceful silence falls over them, making way for the soft rolls of the waves to take over.

Junmyeon can’t tear his eyes away. “It sure is a beautiful view.”

Jongdae can’t look away either. “It sure is.”

2:56 PM (KST)

Once back in LA, Junmyeon feels an impulse to text Jongdae. He snaps a selfie with his mother, and absolutely ridiculous when he does it, but Jongdae sends one back with a puppy dog face, saying LA seems like a lot more fun than Busan.

That’s the last message Junmyeon gets from Jongdae for a while, though. He still texts Jongdae for a few days, before not getting a response becomes too off putting and he just stops altogether.

It’s weeks later, nearly the end of the summer, when Junmyeon receives a text.

From: Jongdae
im comin back to cali!!

To: Jongdae
Oh, are you going back to Berkeley?

From: Jongdae
i have a couple weeks till school starts

To: Jongdae
Oh, where are you going to go:?

From: Jongdae
i was thinking LA…

From: Jongdae
did u know im from LA owo

To: Jongdae
I didn’t know that.

To: Jongdae
If you come down to LA, you should visit. My mother’s still talking about you.

From: Jongdae
you bet :> i’ll be back sat

From: Jongdae
pick me up from the airport?

To: Jongdae
Sure. What time?

His mother spends all of Saturday cooking a feast for Jongdae’s dinner arrival. “Junmyeon, you should take him out tomorrow. Go to those museums you like so much, or that hall of music,” she suggests every once in awhile.

“Yes, mother.” He says that phrase over 20 times that day.

He goes to pick Jongdae up in regular clothes, and Jongdae sure notices. “Because I’ve never seen you in anything but a suit!” he laughs.

When they arrive at his house, his mother hugs Jongdae, saying she feels like she already met him through all of the texting and calling.

Suddenly, Junmyeon has an idea. They all come together, and Junmyeon takes Jongdae’s phone to take a selfie. “There,” he says, handing it back, “is your new wallpaper.”

Jongdae beams, and changes it immediately.



Fic Notes: I’m also planning on writing a one-shot that fits into this, from Jongdae’s point of view :)