Chapter Text
Jisoo hums softly along the tune playing from the radio while working. He carefully picking out flowers for the weekly bouquets for his shop. These smaller flower arrangements feature more affordable (but no less beautiful) flowers. Jisoo had originally started making them for customers who were looking for something quick to buy or simply enjoyed having fresh flowers in their home regularly. The small bouquets had proven to be quite popular and were a steady source of income for Spring Again. It’s actually something Jisoo had quite a knack for: finding new business opportunities.
If only relationships were that easy… Lately, Jisoo's mind has been hopelessly occupied by a certain lawyer. Nothing much has changed between them after Jisoo’s birthday, but he… He craves the small, careful touches, the feel of warm lips against his forehead, and to be held tenderly – things that aren’t his in the first place.
You’re way too greedy, Hong.
The next best thing to keep his cravings under control has been sweets and snacks. Not the healthiest option, but complicated feelings be damned, Jisoo needs the comfort. He just sent Seungcheol on a grocery run under the pretence of also getting actual food. It’s also the reason why he doesn’t turn around when the doorbell jingles. They aren’t even technically open yet.
“You were fast. Did you find the peanut butter?”
“That’s not good for your figure, cousin.”
Jisoo whips around, his eyes landing on the last person he wants to see today.
"Jihyo," he answers carefully. She’s even more pregnant than the last time he saw her, carefully navigating around the displays with one hand around her tummy. Despite being in what must be the last stretch of her pregnancy, she still looks pretty.
“Don't give me that attitude. We all know you are prone to chubbiness.” She stops right in front of the counter and smiles sweetly.
Jisoo snorts. Yeah, when he was eight and still waiting to hit his growth spurt. The bowl cut was an unfortunate addition to his tragic elementary school look. Something Jihyo liked to remind him regularly and probably would never stop.
How such an angelic-looking person could be such an evil witch was a perpetual mystery.
"What do you want?"
"Can't your dear cousin pay a visit?"
He really, really wants to roll his eyes but bites his tongue, knowing how bitchy Jihyo can get, and busies himself with placing the ready-made bouquets into a plastic vat. "You usually don’t – not without a reason."
Supported by the fact that his shop is on the opposite side of the town from where his family resides (for reasons). Jihyo is about to open her mouth when the doorbell rings again. Lifting his head, Jisoo freezes. Did he die and end up in hell without knowing because what even is this? Standing in all of her glory on the doorstep of his shop is Giselle – a woman whom Jisoo has only seen once but has no trouble recognising.
Giselle lifts her sunglasses on her forehead, the perfectly styled hair falling in soft curls around her face. The dark eyes meet Jisoo’s, and he’s pretty sure he looks like an idiot with his mouth hanging open. Jihyo seems to be in a similar state of stupefaction, staring at the woman unblinkingly.
Clack of the heels echoes in the shop as Giselle crosses the small space in her designer outfit, the brown check blazer thrown casually over her shoulders. Slowly, Jisoo stands up, wiping his clammy palms against his apron. Maybe she wants to buy some flowers? As if. Still, Jisoo puts on his best customer service smile.
"Welcome to Spring Again, how c–”
"Are you Hong Jisoo?
Jisoo blinks. "Yes?"
“You need to stop frolicking with my man.”
Jisoo can hear Jihyo gasp dramatically, and honestly, same, because what the fuck? He stares at Giselle like he's seen a unicorn.
“Are you a homewrecker?” Jihyo’s face appears in his peripheral vision.
“Not now, Jihyo,” Jisoo grits between his teeth before addressing Giselle as civilly as he can. “I don’t quite understand, Miss.”
The woman has the audacity to scoff right in his face, making Jisoo's hackles rise. Giselle picks up her phone from the purse and taps the screen a few times with her impossibly long fake nails before turning the screen to them. It's a grainy picture from the depths of Twitter showing him and Jeonghan during his birthday dinner. In the picture, Jeonghan is leaning over and intently listening to what Jisoo is whispering into his ear with a soft smile caressing his lips. Jisoo has no recollection whatsoever of the moment, but even to his eyes, the situation looks intimate by the way Jeonghan’s arm is draped over his chair and how close their faces are. To be honest, it makes his cheeks heat up just a little bit.
“Yes, that’s indeed us.” Jisoo clears his throat. “And?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Giselle snaps and locks the phone from right in front of Jihyo’s nose, who had slithered closer to peek at the photo. “What’s your game?” Giselle taps the floor impatiently. “First, I thought Jeonghan was going through some kind of rebel phase after his accident, but now he’s doing things like this in public and endangering his whole career.” She wields the phone in front of her like a weapon. “Are you blackmailing him?”
“What, no?” Jisoo looks at the woman in front of him, bewildered.
“Please", Giselle stretches the word, “we all know that whatever is going on between you two is not real.”
There’s a trickle of worry running down Jisoo’s spine, but he tries to press it down the best he can. There’s no way Giselle could know his secret, could she? It’s unlikely since he’s the only one who knows the truth, but this woman is nothing but cunning; he should tread carefully.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, trying to hide his unsteady hands by clasping them together.
“He’s not a homosexual,” Giselle says so certainly that it chips at the little hope Jisoo had started nurturing secretly – a beacon of hope mounted on the ever-growing hill that is his feelings for Jeonghan. Giselle sees it, the crack, and latches onto it with a knowing smirk. “You seem to forget something, honey. I’ve been with him. Several times, and I can assure you he’s 100% a real man.”
A minuscule gasp escapes Jisoo’s lips because damn, it hurts. Even more because it’s true. Giselle has had Jeonghan in ways that Jisoo could only dream of. He gets giddy over a simple forehead kiss. It’s laughable, really, how easy he is, fumbling for scraps.
Trash panda, that’s what he is.
“Gosh, you really thought he would fall for someone like you?” Giselle giggles, and Jisoo really wishes he could deck her perfect teeth down her throat, but he’s too busy feeling vulnerable, curling tighter inside himself. “You see, my Jeonghan is used to a certain lifestyle,” Giselle observes the shop with a certain distaste before turning her undivided attention on him, “and a certain class…”
Giselle regards him down the high bridge of her nose, assessing his every flaw, every imperfection, deeming him lacking. It’s degrading. Uncomfortably, Jisoo fixes his shirt that suddenly feels all too tight. He hates the smirk that finds Giselle’s face, noticing the movement. It’s akin to an apex predator. How fitting, really.
As if the situation isn’t horrible enough, it’s made worse by the fact that his cousin has witnessed the entirety of the unfolding shitshow, providing her ammunition for the kingdom come. Even now, Jihyo is looking at him pityingly, but not in the ‘I feel sorry for you’ way. It’s the same kind of benevolent smile you get from Christians that tells you you’re going to burn in hellfire when you reveal you don’t believe in God.
What smarts the most, however, is being humiliated in his own shop. Jisoo bites his lip harder. He’s not going to cry in front of these people.
He simply can’t.
Jisoo’s so wrapped in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the arm wrapping around his waist until he’s turned around. A clammy hand presses against his face, and the next thing he knows, there’s a pressure against his lips. Jisoo stiffens automatically, but the hand around his waist feels like safety and the scent like home – the fresh lime and fragrant bergamot tickling his nose. He feels himself melt against the slender chest as the lips gently coax his mouth open.
Everything feels so soft and warm, like floating on a cloud. Jisoo quickly loses himself in the delicate lips and feeling of weightlessness. Far too soon, the lips retreat from his, and a small whine escapes from his throat, not ready to part with the little piece of heaven.
Give it back.
There’s a chuckle, and a smaller kiss is placed on the tip of his nose. Slowly, Jisoo blinks his eyes open, finding himself in Jeonghan’s arms, not quite sure how he ended up there. The lawyer smirks at his dazed expression. Lifting his hand, Jeonghan carefully brushes back his parted fringe.
“Hey Shuji, I missed you.” His eyes soften.
Jisoo nods slowly and licks his lips. He could still taste the iced Americano Jeonghan had probably drunk not so long ago. And he knows this because... they had kissed. Jisoo's brain intake is slow, but when it starts, it’s like an avalanche until it crashes his consciousness with full force. He and Jeonghan KISSED!??
He looks at Jeonghan with wide eyes, a helpless noise escaping his lips, but the lawyer’s attention is strained elsewhere, and judging by the cold expression on his face, he’s not amused.
“…exactly are you doing here, Giselle?” Jeonghan drawls, still refusing to let Jisoo go, his arm firmly around Jisoo’s waist.
“Just passing by,” the said woman smiles nonchalantly, but it seems forced.
“Giselle,” Jeonghan warns, clearly not having it.
“What?”
“Cut the crap.”
Giselle huffs, crossing her arms, and shakes her long hair behind her shoulders. “Can you blame me? You refuse to respond to my calls and messages while frolicking with him in public.” All Jisoo gets is a vague wave of a finger, Giselle refusing to even look in his direction.
“Giselle", Jeonghan pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly counting to three. “I think I have made it abundantly clear that there’s nothing between us. Many times.”
“But–“
Jeonghan cuts the other off, now firmly looking into the woman’s eyes. “No, I'm tired of playing your games. I want you to let this go. You need to let this go – once and for all.”
Take that bish.
If Jisoo could, he would applaud, but that would mean letting go of Jeonghan, and he’s quite comfortable where he’s at the moment, thank you very much.
"But we are perfect together!"
"We were never together, Giselle. I told you from the start that I wasn’t interested in anything serious.”
“I know you have some kind of childhood grudge against your parents, but you’re older now and have to start thinking about your future.” Giselle brushes it off, and Jisoo can feel Jeonghan stiffen under his touch.
Freaking gaslighter.
“Even you can’t deny how well our lives align. We are both young, beautiful, and successful.” Giselle lists things off like from a grocery list. “We have the same circle of acquaintances, and even our parents know each other!”
“Giselle–” Jeonghan says, somewhat exasperated, and Jisoo tries to soothe him with a hand over his stomach. Jisoo can understand Jeonghan’s frustration because the more he hears, the more ridiculous the situation is getting.
“You can still save yourself and use this fame to build up your career. Soon take over the branch and–”
“What if I don’t want that?” Jeonghan's voice rises suddenly, the feeling welling up from somewhere deep inside. He is practically shaking. “I have never wanted any of that! NOT THAT LIFE!"
The outburst takes everyone by surprise, but most of all Jeonghan, who blinks for a moment and then turns to look at Jisoo, dumbfounded. He immediately steps in front of the lawyer.
“Jeonghan, are you al–“
“What are you talking about?” The annoying woman cuts Jisoo off before he can even finish. He turns to glare at the woman harshly. To be honest, bash him all she wants, but getting Jeonghan this agitated is a step too far, his protective hackles standing up. Jisoo is about to give Giselle a piece of his mind, but is held back by Jeonghan.
“You heard me well enough,” Jeonghan addresses Giselle, his voice firm but hands still shaking in Jisoo’s hold. “This ends here, Giselle. I don’t want to see you anywhere near me, my boyfriend, or our friends. And if you try to twist any type of bull at my parents, I still have the proof of you breaking into my apartment from the other year.” It’s Jisoo’s turn to gasp dramatically. Giselle visibly pales at the words. It’s all the confirmation Jisoo needs, although he would never doubt Jeonghan, not about something this serious. Giselle really is a lunatic. “The only reason I didn’t press charges was out of respect to our parents, but I won’t hesitate again.”
The atmosphere in the shop is heavy, final. Jisoo burrows a little closer to Jeonghan to fight the coldness in his voice.
“Leave.”
Jisoo’s not sure if Giselle wants to curse or cry, her perfect face twisting into something ugly. In the end, she just collects herself and exits the shop in silence without looking back, passing Seungcheol on the way.
His co-worker is looking at Jisoo from the door slack-jawed, apparently having arrived just in the nick of time to witness the culmination of the whole debacle. Jisoo just shakes his head minutely at him and turns back to Jeonghan, who’s massaging his temples.
“Jeonghan, are you ok?” he asks gently, massaging his arms. There’s a small sigh before the brown eyes peek through the bangs.
“Fine, I just suddenly got this headache out of nowhere.”
“I think I have some painkillers in my bag.” Jisoo fusses and runs to the back room to locate them. Jeonghan can say anything he wants about his bag, but at least he’s always prepared. Jisoo also considers calling Jeonghan’s doctor just in case. Giselle is surely a walking headache, but this type of sudden headache is rare for Jeonghan nowadays.
When Jisoo comes back to the main area, Jihyo is practically hanging over the counter with her hand outstretched.
“…Jisoo’s cousin, he must have told about me.”
Jeonghan looks at his cousin and then at her hand with a raised eyebrow. “No?” His eyes snap to Jisoo immediately, basically ignoring his cousin. She looks offended. Jisoo’s not going to lie; it makes him feel smug and also a little giddy inside.
He can’t help himself and gives Jeonghan a small kiss on the cheek before handing out the medicine and the bottle of water he had foresight to take with him. Jeonghan mutters a small thanks, red dusting his cheeks.
Cute.
“I didn’t know it was the garbage day,” Seungcheol remarks, stepping around Jihyo to get their groceries to the backroom. Unlike Jisoo, Seungcheol has never withheld his dislike for Jihyo.
“Choi Seungcheol,” Jihyo answers flatly, all bravado from before gone.
“Pain in the ass,” Seungcheol greets from behind his teeth. Jihyo knows very well that the man dislikes being called by his full name. Still, she always has to taunt him.
“I see you haven’t made any improvements to your customer service, cousin.” Jihyo smiles sweetly, but her eyes are blazing. If a look could kill, Seungcheol would already have been hit by lightning. “It’s bad for business.”
Making sure that Jeonghan really is ok, Jisoo turns to give his cousin an equally sweet smile. “Actually, Jihyo, my business is doing great. All thanks to paying customers.”
“Oh, don’t be like that. We are family, and besides, you never ask for anything.” She brushes Jisoo off, who bristles because he can’t exactly deny it. Despite his family relations being what they are, it still feels wrong for him to ask for compensation. “About that, your father’s 60th birthday party is coming up.”
“Birthday party?” Jisoo blanches. Of course, he knows that his father’s birthday is close to his, but he has no recollection of a party invite. All he has received in the mail are the perpetual “Jesus saves you” letters (even after all these years).
“In two weeks? Please keep up, I don’t have all day,” Jihyo complains and massages her stomach.
“But I haven’t been invited.”
Jihyo rolls her eyes as if it’s an insignificant detail. “If it’s so important, I might put in a good word to Father Hong, but you have to come alone, and no word about him.” Jihyo nods at Jeonghan. Jisoo feels a little sick inside. “Now, I was thinking about around 6 flower installations, the big ones, none of those wishy-washy things you have over there–“
“How about no?” Seungcheol’s voice sounds behind them. He’s leaning on the doorframe, looking rather imposing with his muscular arms fully on display. All of his friends know that they are just for show, the man being a marshmallow from inside, which is why it’s so striking to see him so uncharacteristically pissy.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Jihyo snipes at him.
“Well, I am.” Seungcheol pushes himself off the doorframe and moves to place himself between Jisoo and Jihyo. “You treat him like crap and only contact him when you need something. He doesn’t need you lot in his life.”
“And maybe you should stop sticking your nose in family business.”
Family.
Why does the word feel so empty, like it has lost even the last of its shine? Hadn’t he given up a long time ago?
Suddenly, Jisoo feels drained of all energy. He takes a step back, feeling for the stool with his hand, and slumps on it, Seungcheol’s and Jihyo’s bickering fading to the background.
It’s painful to admit that, still, after everything, some part of Jisoo had hoped that his family would come to accept him. Maybe it’s his own fault – swearing to cut them out but still jumping every time the call came for nothing to change – only he accommodating but gaining nothing in return.
There’s a hand on his knee, and then someone kneels in front of him. He smells the spring blossoms and the sharp wind like a déjà vu. Looking into Jeonghan’s big, understanding eyes, Jisoo finally finds the courage to do what he should’ve done a long time ago.
“No.”
“What?”
“No, I won’t do it.” Jisoo looks over to Jihyo, who dares to look shocked.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m hurt, disappointed, and sad?” He says incredulously and stands up.
“I don’t know what kind of drama you’re trying to live here, but this isn’t a telenovela, Jisoo.”
“Drama? These are my feelings, Jihyo!” Jisoo stomps his feet, frustrated. He can feel himself tear up, all the pain he had accumulated suddenly spilling over. “And I’m tired of you and our whole family walking all over them."
“What are you even talking about? You do know you caused this all by yourself with your life choices.”
“Yeah, because being gay is something you choose, right?” Jisoo says bitterly.
“This is useless. Will you or will you not do the flowers?”
“No!”
“This is your father we are talking about, Jisoo.”
“Then he can come and ask himself,” Jisoo hisses and turns around to hide his tears.
“You–“
“You heard him, Jihyo,” Seungcheol snaps. “Either you take yourself out or I will do it and with pleasure.”
Even that’s not stopping Jihyo from putting in the last word. “You bring shame to our family. Do you have any idea how much they have suffered because of you?”
“Nothing new there.”
“OUT!” Seungcheol bellows, which finally seems to do the trick, and even the last of the uninvited people leave Jisoo’s flower store.
After making sure that Jihyo has disappeared, Seungcheol turns to face them. Seeing Jisoo’s wobbling lips, barely holding himself together, he opens his arms with a sad, knowing smile, and Jisoo practically launches himself at Seungcheol. If there is one thing that Seungcheol is especially good at, it’s giving hugs.
Feeling something missing, Jisoo wiggles his fingers behind and soon can feel another, but slimmer, pair of arms wrap around him. Finally, Jisoo lets go and sobs his eyes out.
At last, it’s over – for good.