Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Crap,” Seungsik mutters before yawning. He sprints down the stairs of his flat, practically face-planting at the bottom after stumbling. “Crap, crap, crap!”

His phone most definitely reads “6:01” - as in, over an hour after he should be in the bakery. Woops.

Seungsik dashes through the dining room, flicking light switches on his way. A very unamused baker stands on the other side of the glass-paned door, tapping his toe impatiently. Double woops.

“Sorry!” Seungsik yells his apology without intending to. The entirely too sleepy Sejun winces from hearing such a loud noise so early in the morning. Seungsik throws the door open, apologizing again (though more quietly this time), “Sorry, sorry.”

“Morning,” Sejun says, walking past his boss toward the kitchen. “I’m guessing coffee’s not on, huh.”

“U-uh, no,” Seungsik locks the door before tailing the other attentively. “But I can make it right, um, now.” When he lunges toward the coffee maker in the back, a loud “clang” rings out across the space. Sejun flinches again.

“My ears…” He whines.

“Sorry!” Seungsik apologizes again.

“What’s going on with you this morning?” Sejun asks, his voice echoing out from the back room. “Did you forget to set an alarm.”

“My alarm did go off this morning,” Seungsik said, scrambling to collect his scattered brain. “It just- I guess I pressed snooze or slept through it or something- where is the sourdough...”

“You weren’t up until the wee hours of the morning experimenting, were you?” Sejun’s tone implies that he knows it’s exactly what Seungsik was doing.

“Uh, no .”

“So Byungchan just texted me ‘he sent me a filtered snap of failed attempts’ for funsies?” Sejun emerges from the back room, tying his apron. His smirk says “checkmate”, and the other baker knows he’s lost. If it’s his word against Byungchan’s in this case he’s doomed.

Damn thee, Byungchan, Seungsik thinks.

“Let’s say that… Hypothetically , I did ‘experiment late’ last night,” He replies sheepishly, emphatically using air quotes. He tries to distract the other by making a show of starting the coffee. Pressing a button on the coffee maker, Seungsik gestures grandly at the thing as if to say “hey, look at me, being a good, reasonable boss”.

“Well, pretending that you did - hypothetically - bake yourself to exhaustion last night… I would - hypothetically - tell you to stop doing stuff like that!” Sejun crosses his arms and quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh, come on!” Seungsik groans, quickly adding, “Hypothetically, I mean.”

Sejun just sighs, wringing a hand through his hair, “Look, Seungsik, I know this sounds dramatic, but at this rate you’re gonna kill yourself-”

“You’re right, that does sound dramatic.”

“Seungsik!”

“Sorry.”

“ My point is : you need to slow down. Stop taking on so much and- and staying up until midnight or one in the morning when you know you need to be up at four! You’re here open to close, you work out, play games, manage to have a somewhat social life, and you always take on extra work. Even on the days your parents watch the place, half the time you come in to help anyways!”

“It’s a family business.”

“And your family doesn’t need you to pass out in the middle of a shift because you’d rather play with avocados than sleep!”

Seungsik pouts his lips, “But I like avocados-”

“Everyonelikesavocadosit’saveryhotculinarytrend!” Sejun cuts him off annoyedly. Cooling off a bit, he tries rewording his response, “Sorry, I just… Dude, I worry about you, okay?”

“You act like I’m going to just drop dead one day in the middle of decorating a cake. I will have you know that I was doing something of value, okay! Value!” Seungsik raises a finger triumphantly.

“Value?”

“Yes! Like I said, I wanna experiment with baking for different customers! Hence, my healthy puddi-” A sudden realization dawns over Seungsik’s face, and he completely drops his thought mid-sentence. Eyes wide and mouth agape, Seungsik strides over to the walk in fridge, muttering to himself.

Sejun’s face wrinkles with terror. He watches on in befuddlement, wondering if this is the day that Seungsik finally snaps.

“It’s set! It’s set!” Seungsik shouts from the fridge.

“It what?”

“The pudding, it’s set!” Seungsik hollers triumphantly. He withdraws a tray of individually dished puddings from the fridge, shutting the door with a bump of the hips. “Yes! I think this is the one, Sejun!”

“It’s the- the what?”

“This is the one!” Seungsik’s tiredness completely melts away, replaced with delirious happiness. He looks at his friend with the expression of a happy golden retriever, and his pupils move between Sejun and his puddings expectantly.

Sejun catches on quickly and asks, “Uh… What’s in these again?”

Setting the tray down to grab spoons, Seungsik rattles off the list of ingredients, “It’s simple, really! Vanilla powder, bananas, almond butter, some agave, almond milk, oh- and avocados, of course!”

“Right, of course. Avocados,” Sejun eyes the pale green pudding dubiously.

“Well?” Seungsik looks at the other eagerly.

“Have you tried it?”

“Sejun, I’ve eaten nothing but vanilla avocado pudding for the past twelve hours. Yes, I’ve tried it. And it’s delicious!”

Sejun can practically see stars twinkling in his friend’s eyes. Despite his doubt, the thought of denying his adorable friend is almost criminal to him. With a defeated sigh, Sejun is worn down and grabs a spoon from Seungsik’s hand.

Seungsik watches excitedly as the other scoops out a heaping spoonful of pudding. He watches Sejun put it in his mouth slowly, closing his lips around the curved metal. A series of expressions present themselves on Sejun’s face. First, it’s something akin to confusion. Then, his face goes slack - like he’s shocked. His face wrinkles again in puzzlement, and afterwards he’s just blinking furiously. Finally, he raises his eyebrows and nods as if he’s reached a conclusion.

“Well?” Seungsik asks, hands clasped together hopefully, “What did you think?” While Sejun is nice enough to try almost anything, he’s never one to mince words when it comes to critique. Seungsik values the others palette more than anyone’s, and after years of friendship, he trusts him to tell him exactly how it is.

“It’s delicious,” Sejun says; he sounds shocked that the words came out of his mouth.

“Delicious? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, man. It’s like… It’s really good. It’s… Unique. The avocado doesn’t really come through, but it lends the pudding this super creamy texture. The vanilla is just perfect in relation to the almond which - surprisingly - isn’t overpowering.”

“Yeah, I worked on that ratio. Almond tends to steal the show a lot…”

“Plus, the banana adds a really nice, subtle sweetness- as does the agave! I mean- it’s definitely nutty. This won’t appeal to someone who vehemently dislikes almond flavor, but as a pudding this is delicious! And- and the texture is so unreal. It’s like a dream,” Awe drips from Sejun’s voice as he praises the pudding.

“Yes! Yes!” Seungsik falls to his knees from sheer relief. He hadn’t spent all night on a massive waste (never mind the many bad batches). “Oh, thank heavens… I really wanted this to work.”

“You should test this on the menu today- as a special.”

“You really think it’s that good?”

“Definitely! I mean, it’s certainly different but, like you said: we should try to reach different people, right?”

“Oh my God- this is happening! This is so happening!” Seungsik bounces around with joy, giggling like a schoolgirl who’d been confessed to by her crush on Valentine’s. “Oh, did I tell you about my idea for a garnish?”

“What were you thinking?” Sejun asks, an eyebrow quirked. Now that he’s tasted the dish, he shows much more interest.

“Coconut whipped cream. Now, hear me out…”

The two nearly forget that they have actual routine baking to do. After finally getting coffee into their system, they rush to work, baking in a state of frenzy.

Gray clouds loom above, and pattering rain wets the pavement in little droplets. Light distorts on the slick surface of the sidewalk and street. Water skids off of the little awnings adorning shopfronts.  The soft sound of raindrops hitting the ground wraps the entire town in a blanket of sound. Everything sounds softer and more peaceful when the soft pittering encases it. The weather seems to do little to dissuade the locals from going about their morning routines; people don umbrellas and raincoats, conducting business.

Much to Han Seungwoo’s dismay, the raindrops do little to cool the air. The consequence is a rather muggy, miserable day - in his opinion. The therapist-in-training plods along the sidewalk on his way to work. His black umbrella isn’t very big, but it does the job. He’s mostly dry as he makes his way toward the Healing Center. Once again, he sees a line of people at the bakery window.

Even in this weather they line up, huh? He muses. Guess that’s what happens when everything closes at eight. People get up earlier. Yikes.

Seungwoo strides straight past the line of people eagerly awaiting their morning pastry. He feels inclined to encourage those waiting to try other breakfast options, but he decides against it. After all, health is a choice. He can only save the world one patient at a time.

The walk from his flat to the Healing Center isn’t the shortest. It’s about to kilometers, actually, but Seungwoo prefers it. A nice walk uphill is good morning cardio. Plus, in spite of his complaining, he kind of likes the scenery. As he leaves the village square, the town gets more residential. Little houses crop up over the hill, each one having a little acre to themself. Tall trees line the street, and the further away from the square Seungwoo gets, the narrower the road gets. His favorite stretch of the walk is closer to the center. Though it’s not incredibly extraordinary, the road is so narrow that the tree canopies overlap above it. It makes him feel like he’s walking in some sort of lush, green tunnel.

As he walks down the slim road, Seungwoo can’t help but look up. Unlike usual, there’s no light painting little patterns between the foliage. Instead, the verdant grove catches the raindrops, creating a shelter of sorts.

Pretty…

Without realizing it, Seungwoo had stopped walking. He blinks confusedly, snapping out of it.

Figures, I’m bored enough to get fascinated by the littlest of things.

Seungwoo sighs to himself and carries on with his walk to the Healing Center.

Why do people seem to like it here so much, anyways?

Afternoon fares no better for the patch of sky covering the town square. Dull gray stretches across the sky with no sign of an end. To make matters more precarious, the falling rain turns increasingly moody as the hours pass by. One minute, soft drizzle drifts down gently from the sky. The next, a torrential downpour crashes down in thick sheets, nearly beating down the earth itself. Those unfortunate enough to be caught in said downpour immediately clamber to the nearest bit of shelter they can cower under. All of the drama only lasts a few minutes before returning to its docile state.

“Please stay like this,” Hanse frowns, watching raindrops race down the bakery’s windows.

“What? You mean you don’t wanna peddle your bike through a typhoon?” Sejun jokes from behind the counter.

The bakery is busier than it is on the typical weekday afternoon. On most sunny summer days, people are still out and about, at work, running errands. Yet, something about a bakery draws people in on rainy days. It happens without fail: people flock to the warm comfort of coffee and a pastry. The deep wood tones of the decor make the space feel warmer than it actually is, and the soft music playing pairs exceptionally well with the steady rhythm of raindrops outside.

Small groups of people occupy the tables and well worn couches, chatting among themselves. Many huddle mugs of tea or coffee closely as if the weather is much colder than it actually is. Some tap away determinedly on laptops while a couple solitarily read a book. Sejun had tried to keep the ground as dry as possible, but he eventually conceded, putting up the wet floor sign and praying for their hardwood floor.

“Ding! Ding!”

The bell rings, signalling yet another customer’s entry. This time, it’s a familiar one. Sejun and Hanse both smile, greeting him at the same time.

“Welcome to Newvoice!” “Welcome to Newvoice Bakery!”

Jung Subin merely nods in response before heading toward his regular table. Hanse joins Sejun behind the table for his (also customary) “Subin Conversation”. The Subin Conversation starts the same way it always does:

“There he is. The pillar of enigma, at it again,” Hanse whispers to Sejun.

The older one rolls his eyes, operating the espresso machine as he chides the other, “You mean the pillar of customer loyalty? The kid comes in here every day. Cut him some slack.”

“I’m just saying, it’s not right. One of these days he’s gonna break.”

“Break?”

“Yeah, break- you know, like,” Hanse makes an exaggerated stabbing motion and follows it up with a pantomime of someone dying an agonizing death.

“Wow, you’re right. If only he were a shining example of normal, acceptable behavior. Like you,” Sejun says sarcastically.

“What do you think he thinks about when he sits here in silence- look! See, he’s doing it right now!”

“Hanse, I swear to God.”

“Look at him- what is he looking at? What if he… What if he sees things we don’t?!”

“You’ve been watching too many of those alien documentaries again, haven’t you?”

“Come on! He’s just staring out the window, dude.”

“You realize some people like watching the rain fall. It’s soothing.”

“Why does the richest kid in town need soothing? Can’t he hire people for that? Or buy expensive pills- I dunno!”

“Maybe he wants a damn pastry, Hanse. I swear, one of these days the wrong customer is gonna overhear you talking crap and you’re gonna get beat up in an alley.”

“This is a small town, Sejun. We have, like, two alleys.”

“Fine. You’ll get beat up in an open field. Happy? You pedant.”

“I just wonder about him is all, I think he’s-”

“Boo!” All of a sudden, a person bursts out from behind Hanse, jabbing their fingers into the delivery boy’s sides.

Like a train wreck, or dominos falling, things rapidly escalate from there.

“Ah!” Hanse nearly jumps through the ceiling, eyes blown wide open. In reflexive reaction to the tickling, his body catapults itself halfway across the back of the pastry case. In the mess of flailing limbs, one of the cakes on display gets caught in the fray. Hanse’s elbow catches the confection and its plate (along with it) comes crashing to the ground. Things seem to move in slow motion as Sejun’s jaw drops and the mysterious perpetrator shrinks back in surprise. By some miracle, the cake lands plate-side down.

The miracle turns out to be a sham, however. The cake lands safely, but Hanse does not. He stumbles, and suddenly his body jolts backwards. After an ill founded attempt to regain balance, he finally falls flat on his butt. Hanse merely sits in shock for a few seconds.

Slowly, he gets up, wide-eyed and half-dead from the sudden heart attack that’d been inflicted on him. He glances over his shoulder to give the perpetrator his dirtiest look.

“You,” Hanse says, narrowing his eyes.

“H-hey Hanse,” Chan replies weakly. He hides behind Sejun sheepishly.

“You,” Hanse turns to face his perpetrator (well, to face Sejun - behind whom the perpetrator is hiding).

“Me,” Chan says.

“While I’m a big fan of a cowboy standoff, Seungsik will be back from his break any minute, and I’d really like for you to not be doing-” He gestures vaguely between the two, “-this.”

Hanse huffs, but decides to take a high ground. He turns on his heel and starts heading toward the back. A loud snort makes him stop.

“This is workplace abuse!” Hanse says, crossing his arms. “What is so funny?!” He doesn’t even bother turning around.

“N-Nothing,” Chan says, obviously holding back a laugh.

“Yeah, just get cleaned up,” Sejun says cooly, “Don’t worry, though. I’m sure it’ll be a piece of cake.”

Chan snorts loudly again, breaking out into a hushed giggle. That sets off Hanse’s mental alarm, and once again he faces his two coworkers.

“Why is that so funny?” Hanse asks, eyed narrowed into slits of suspicion.

“It’s- it’s not,” Chan speaks up (still behind Sejun), “It’s not funny. Nothing is funny. Sejun’s right we should make sure everything is… Piece -ful before Seungsik gets back.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much, though,” Sejun adds, “Seungsik is pretty laid bake for a boss.”

“He’s what?” Hanse looks at the other two - part angry, part confused.

“You batter get cleaned up, though,” Chan titters.

“Okay- why the heck are you speaking in puns right now?!” Hanse throws his hands up in the air, done with the world.

“There’s a cake stuck to your butt,” An unfamiliar voice says frankly from the other side of the counter. The eyes of every employee present shoot to the customer, blown open wide in horror. More shocking is who the customer is:

The ever silent Jung Subin.

They’d just acted like complete morons in front of rich, influential, RBF, possibly Satan, Jung Subin.

Hanse swallows nervously, and Chan ducks down even further. Sejun blinks rapidly, trying to formulate a PR friendly response that’ll assure that nobody hears of the cake-butt incident. Subin never comes up to the counter. Ever. At least, he hasn’t since his first few times visiting.

“U-uh-uh, uh- can I help you?” Sejun asks. He prepares a dozen apologies in his head, just in case.

Subin ignores him; his eyes are locked onto Hanse with the focus of a predator watching its prey. Hanse doesn’t miss this detail and he immediately checks his butt - to see if what the other had told him is true.

It is.

Hanse had, in fact, taken a seat on a strawberry cake. His butt looks like a horror scene, covered in white frosting, yellow cake, and red jam. It almost impresses him that the entire cake managed to stick on his butt - not a single morsel had fallen off! His amazement is slightly dampened by the fact that a customer had seen. The delivery boy opens his mouth to say something, but when he looks at Subin, he can’t. He closes his mouth and, without another syllable, waddles off to the back.

A snort sounds out, drawing the attention of Sejun and the cowering Chan.

Then another.

And another.

Until finally it breaks. He breaks.

Jung Subin’s aloof exterior crumbles, and laughter blossoms across his face. He throws his head back, and his nose scrunches. His laugh echoes loudly across the bakery (it even draws attention). It takes so much of his breath that he has to lean on the pastry case for support. He laughs and laughs and laughs, and all Sejun and Chan can do is watch in wonder. Even Hanse, humiliated as he is, peeks his head out from the kitchen to witness the site. Even though the rain still falls outside, they feel as if the clouds had parted inside Newvoice. Between them a ray of sunshine shines down; that ray being one Jung Subin. Who’d have thought?

Chan chuckles, muttering to Sejun, “Seungsik’s gonna be so mad he missed this.”

Sejun nods in agreement, “He probably won’t even believe it.”

“I- I just-” Subin chokes out a few words between laughs in an attempt to elaborate on his presence. “-I just wanted to- to see if everything was- was okay. I saw the fall and- oh my god it hurts - he- he sat in the cake! Cake butt! He has a- a cake butt! ” The boy has no choice but to cradle his head in his arms, and his chest heaves with his riotous laughter.

Turns out, Jung Subin is more like them than they’d thought.

“That’s all I can do today,” A patient shakes his head as she huffs and puffs. The lady is middle aged. She got into an accident in her youth and, as a result, has had a bad knee for a long time. Her recent surgery had gone well, but she seemed to be struggling with recovery. After issues with a previous clinic, she’d been directed to Sunrise by a friend of hers. The woman lays on the hamstring curl bench, beads of sweat dropping down her head.

Evening crawls into night as the sun dips down beneath the horizon. Due to all the trees in the area and the position of the Healing Center, it’d started looking dark awhile before. The main gym is mostly empty, save for Seungwoo, his mentor, Chorong, and their patient. Though it’s only been a few days, the resident already feels fairly acclimated.

Sunrise seems to send their residents straight into the fire. Seungwoo doesn’t feel untrained or unprepared; it’s moreso that they don’t mess around. They’re selective about who they bring on and expect excellence and adaptability.

Seungwoo loves it. He loves the challenge and responsibility. He loves being hands on, and most of all, he loves being able to work directly with patients. It makes him feel like it’s worth it - moving to the country and all. Being in a classroom or doing busywork has always felt soulsucking to him. Actually doing something, that’s what Seungwoo loves.

Seungwoo gives the patient a small grin and nods, “You’ve worked really hard today Mrs. Lin. I know you’re very tired, but I bet you can do one more curl.”

“Oh, please,” Mrs. Lin laughs - she’s got a good spirit which Seungwoo is thankful for. A lot of patients aren’t nearly as good-natured. “Take it easy on an old woman, will you?”

“Just one,” Seungwoo holds his finger up, “One more is all I want. You can do that, okay?”

“I really don’t know…”

Well I’m the professional , Seungwoo wants to say. He doesn’t. Even if she doesn’t think she can,  that’s fine. He figures part of the profession is believing in people when they don’t believe in themselves.

“You have three kids, don’t you?” Seungwoo says, grinning at her.

“Yes, I do,” Mrs. Lin answers, her face scrunching into a humored but confused expression.

“See, you’ve given birth. Three times . This is way easier than that. I’m just asking you to push for one more curl!”

The patient giggles, “Well, you’re not wrong about that! Okay… Okay… Give me a second. I can do… Just one more…” Slowly, Ms. Lin does just that, lifting her calves. She nudges up the weight gradually, and her faces scrunches with exertion.

“Ah! I told you,” Seungwoo says in a singsong voice, clapping his hands, “I knew you could do another one!”

“Nice!” Chorong added, a wide smile across her lips as well.

Mrs. Lin drops the weight and exhales, “I really did it, oh my gosh.”

“Yes,” Chorong nods, clearly very satisfied, “Very good, Mrs. Lin. With that, you’re done. My goodness, with your progress we may be able to bump you down to once a week sessions soon!”

Sitting up, Mrs. Lin looks incredibly pleased. Seeing her smile makes Seungwoo giddy in turn. He gets a weird high when he sees a patient happy, it’s like getting a pat on the back for a job well done.

“Don’t say that,” Seungwoo jokes, “You’re already one of my favorites!”

“I have to get better some time!” The patient says playfully.

“Ugh, fine . If you insist,” Seungwoo chuckles.

Chorong gestures toward the door into the hall “Alright, Mrs. Lin, if you’ll follow me this way we can check you out…”

“You surprise me,” Is the first thing Seungwoo hears from Chorong when she finishes up with Mrs. Lin. Seungwoo had been cleaning up the equipment after their appointment in the gym. He quirks an eyebrow, confused.

“Huh?” He says.

“You surprise me,” Chorong repeats herself.

“Is- is that a good thing, ma’am?” Seungwoo stands up straight. Everyone at Sunrise is so amiable, sometimes it’s easy to forget there’s a hierarchy. He tries to respect that, eyeing his senior attentively.

Chorong nods, “Yes, it is.” She smiles.

“May I ask how I surprise you?” He can’t help but wonder. What’s that supposed to mean?

“Well, you seem like a pretty cool customer most of the time. You’re very respectful as well.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You don’t talk much to the other residents, though, do you? You don’t like small talk at all.”

“I do not,” Seungwoo’s pupils flit away sheepishly. He doesn’t think himself mean, per se, but he doesn’t always play nice with others, either. It’s not that he actively dislikes people; he merely likes being independent. He’s fairly content by himself, and he’d rather spend time alone than force himself to fraternize with peers he doesn’t genuinely connect with.

“You don’t,” Chorong corroborates the statement. “But… With patients, you’re surprisingly warm and charming. Even with that ornery old veteran this morning- you managed to turn every curse he threw at you into a joke. I swear I saw him crack a smile when you weren’t looking!”

“Just trying to give the patients the best care I can, ma’am.”

“Well, keep it up. You know what sets us apart from other physical therapy clinics in the region- the country, even?”

The beautiful facilities? The spa-like aesthetics? Being nestled in the middle of nowhere?

“What?”

Chorong laughs like she’s got a secret, “Think of it as a riddle. When you figure it out, come get me- or Eunji.”

“Wait- really?” Seungwoo can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness.

“Yep,” Chorong grins ear to ear. “Alright, now finish cleaning. We’ve got two more this evening!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Seungwoo walks down the canopied path toward the town square. He’d ended up staying a bit after his time to help with some extra cleaning, setting him back an hour. Not that he cares. On the contrary, he’s relieved. He’d rather do nothing but work all summer than roll around in his bed, bored out of his skull. The weather doesn’t really mix well with late-night runs, either, which means Seungwoo would’ve been more bored otherwise. He thanks God that there was extra work and hopes there’s more the next day.

“Craaaaaaaaaash!!”

Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good. His eyes widen, and he glances up at the sky. Oh crap.

It looks like it’s about to split open and unleash all hell onto the unsuspecting little town. Deep gray and blue clouds churn and move ominously above. Looking in front of himself, Seungwoo can see the fat drops of rain coming toward him. He reaches for his umbrella in his bag only to realize a fatal mistake: he’d left it in his locker.

Oh, I hate this. I hate this so much.

“Craash!”

This time, he can see the flash of lightning across the sky. It illuminates everything and nearly dazzles the student for a second. As if cued by the lightning, the raindrops triple in size. The gentle rapping of droplets against pavement escalates to a loud pattering. The fat drops practically hurt Seungwoo as he dejectedly walks through them. A chill runs down his spine as the wet seeps in through his clothes.

Fantastic.

Seungsik yawns loudly, stretching while doing it. He glances back at his computer screen and the numbers start blurring and meshing together. He’d been doing numbers at the frontmost table in the dining area, minding his own business, when a fit of sleepiness mercilessly attacked. The rainfall still persists as consistently as ever. Its rhythm sounds quite nice; it filters in through the windows as a soft white noise. Combined with the chill hip-hop he likes to play in the evening, it’s actually pretty nice.

Too nice, really.

I’m gonna fall asleep , Seungsik sighs. He rubs his eyes hard in an attempt to wake himself up. The day had gone decently well. They’d sampled a small portion of the pudding concoction on the menu, and a few adventurous types had even tried it. The reviews coming back were mostly positive, too! Overall, he’s pretty thrilled considering how exotic the concoction sounds.

“Beep. Beep.” The coffee maker chimes, indicating the fresh pot is done brewing.

“Please wake me up,” Seungsik mutters as he lumbers over to the kitchen. It seems his late night is finally taking a toll on him. Rivulets of steam dance up from the dark liquid as he pours it into his mug. The smell alone gives the baker some much needed lucidity, and he’s thankful for that. He finishes off, throwing his regular dose of cream and sugar in before heading back to his seat.

“It really is coming down,” He says to nobody in particular. As if challenged by his words, a bolt of lightning strikes. For an instant, white light flashes across the sky.

“Craaash!”

The thunder comes a second later, and it smashes through the air so fiercely that it makes Seungsik jump. Suddenly, the rain no longer falls in droplets, but sheets. Wind kicks up torrents of falling water, making it fall sideways. It’s like something just really pissed off mother nature.

So much for the nice, calm, rainy night. Seungsik pouts. At the very least, he’s already indoors. His walk home is literally a joke - it’s just a trip up a staircase.

Yup , Seungsik thinks, I’ll just watch here from the safety of my bakery, thank you very much.

Just as he’s about to settle into his seat, Seungsik sees something. In the middle of the storm, there’s a figure. Immediately, Seungsik’s first reaction is to panic. He wonders if a serial killer’s after him, or if it’s the devil himself. What kind of a creeper is out taking a walk at this hour? In this weather?! He wonders.

Impishly, Seungsik scuttles up to his window, watching the person in awe with his coffee in hand. Though they get closer, he finds no luck in discerning their features. Maybe it’s a delirious older person who’s confused. Or someone drunk… The mysterious rain-walker reaches the stretch of sidewalk in front of the bakery.

Abruptly, his body lurches. His arms flail, and he stumbles. Though a hearty attempt is made, there’s no hope in making a recovery. The poor, drenched soul falls forward, scraping across the wet concrete.

“Oh, no!” Seungsik gasps. He throws his coffee onto the counter and runs out the door. The sound of thunder and rain fill his ears as he rushes to the person’s side.

They remain hunched over, dazed and dripping wet. It sends the baker into what his friends sometimes recall as “mom overdrive”. Mouth agape, Seungsik pulls the person up. The person - a man, so it turns out - merely groans, clearly slightly dazed from his fall. His black zip-up hoodie is soaked through, and he shudders from the slight chill it gives him.

“Are you okay?!” Seungsik asks, leading the person in. Immediately as the door shuts, the sound muffles. Low fidelity beats overpower falling water and the ensuing sense of quiet makes everything feel infinitely calmer indoors. “Here, sit here.” The baker pulls out a chair from the front table and ushers the poor person into it. Streams of water run down their clothes, creating a puddle on the floor.

“Let me get you a towel,” Seungsik offers, sparing no time to stride to the back. He shouts behind himself, “And coffee! Do you like coffee? It’s fresh and hot!”

“U-uhm, black, please,” The man says. “And, um, bandages, please, too. If you can spare-”

“Of course!” The baker cuts him off. He rifles through the back room, getting what he needs. He returns hastily, a cup of coffee in one hand, towels and first-aid supplies in the other.

“Here,” Seungsik says softly, setting the coffee down gently. “You said you needed bandages, I have this kind-” He holds up a roll of medical bandages, “-is that okay? Or did you want band-aids?”

“Bandages are fine,” The man says. He graciously accepts the extended offering.

“Where’d you get hurt?” Seungsik asks, his elevated heartrate slightly slowing down.

The man simply holds the palms of his hands up, and Seungsik shrinks back in horror. Layers of skin are peeled back after having been scraped away by the sidewalk. A few flecks of blood pool up atop otherwise porcelain skin. Seungsik averts his eyes quickly, handing the other some alcohol wipes. Just the thought of how much it would sting makes the baker shudder.

He feels weirdly useless not doing anything, so he takes the liberty of toweling draping a towel over the other’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” The man finally says when he’s finished wrapping his palms. He flexes them experimentally, and though Seungsik can’t see his face, he can tell the man is displeased. He supposes he can’t blame him, he would be to. It begs the question: what was the man doing out, anyways?

“It’s no problem,” Seungsik heaves a sigh and takes the seat across from him. He nudges the black coffee toward the other, urging him, “Drink up. It shouldn’t be too hot. Oh- and don’t forget to dry off a bit. I can lend you an umbrella so the rest of your walk is drier.” He flashes a reassuring grin.

“That’s… That’s very kind of you,” The man, who’d spent his time slouched with his head down, finally looks up at Seungsik.

“What am I gonna do, watch you basically drown out there?” Seungsik chuckles at his own joke, glancing up at the man. “I’m perfectly happy to hel…”

Hell no. Oh. Hell. No.

It takes every ounce of composure he possesses to not show how devastated he is on his face. The man he’d rescued from the storm was no other than him! Him! The world’s most bitter human being! Pure, concentrated rudeness, encased in an incredibly beautiful, muscular body. Not that that’s the point! The point is, he’s mean, cynical, has a weird vendetta against baked goods, and is rude. He’s all of those things and…

Really gorgeous.

Seungsik doesn’t think he’s seen a face like that in his life. The guy has pretty, puppy-like eyes and plush, heart-shaped lips. His nose is a perfect, long slope - much like Seungsik’s own which he, personally, hates. The other man’s face is dignified with high cheekbones, and his jawline is perfectly contoured without being jarring or sharp.

It kind of makes Seungsik hate him even more.

Oh. Crap.

Those are the first words that pop up in Seungwoo’s mind when he makes eye contact with the other guy.

Does he recognize me?

Are the next ones. He swallows nervously, feeling incredible guilt mount on his shoulders with each passing second. With an awkward chuckle, he speaks.

“I-I’m sorry, you, um… You trailed off,” Seungwoo said.

Crap. This is too awkward! I’m going to die. Lord help me!

“I was saying that, um-” The baker’s pupils flit away nervously. There’s a pressure filling the room fast like a sort of fog. Fantastic. “I’m happy to help. Yeah- that. Ha! J-just, um- you can stay here as long as you like,” He looks down into his coffee like it’s more interesting than the person in front of him.

Fine. I hate smalltalk. I didn’t wanna chat anyways , Seungwoo pouts internally. He glances outside, and it’s still coming down in sheets. A frown crosses his lips when he realizes he’s essentially imprisoned in a bakery of all places for at least the next ten minutes - until it passes. If he’s lucky, the baker guy will throw his umbrella at the student and Seungwoo can run away sooner, but he’s not so sure he wants to brave it as it is.

Even though it’s not very cold outside, a chill sets into Seungwoo’s bones. He can feel goosebumps pricking his skin, calling every little inch to attention. His eyes fall on his own coffee, and he wraps his hands around it with glee. The warmth stings his fingers as it seeps into his body. It’s an incredibly welcome sensation. He gazes into the dark liquid and unconsciously sighs.

Maybe a bit of peace and quiet will do me good . He muses. His eyes scan the area; the student realizes that he’d never even bothered taking a look through the window at the place. It’s pretty nice here, actually. Kinda chic. Like places in the city. The music is good, too. And for the coffee… Timidly, he takes a sip. It doesn’t burn his tongue, thankfully. The welcome warmth runs down his throat, filling his entire body with a fuzzy glow of sorts. That’s good, too.

“So, do you work here all the time?” Seungwoo asks. What the hell!? He snaps his lips shut quickly, completely shocked that he’d even asked. Sure, the curiosity had obviously crossed his mind, but that didn’t mean he wanted to ask it out loud. Much to his chagrin, it’s too late to take it back. His eyes nervously fall on the baker, who seems just as surprised at the question as he is.

“U-uh, yeah,” He responds. “I’m, um, it’s a family business. I basically run the place- except for on weekends when Mom and Dad take over.”

“Whoa, really? You don’t look that old, though-”

“I’m not! Old. I’m not old- at least, I like to think I’m not.”

Seungwoo narrows his eyes at the man for a second, assessing him. He really doesn’t look old at all. Something about him is almost childlike. Maybe it’s just his round cheeks, or the way he carries himself. He seemed pretty jolly that one morning, but it could’ve been just an act. Running a bakery is a big responsibility, though; Seungwoo doubts it’d be something a family would trust with someone immature.

“How old are you?” He asks bluntly.

The baker’s got a flush across his face when he answers, “I-I’m twenty-four.”

“Whoa, that young?” Seungwoo gasps, “That’s only a year younger than me.” I’m impressed. He wants to say. He doesn’t, though. He just looks down at his coffee again. The kid was raised with the business. It’s not that out of the ordinary, right? So what if he… That guy… He-

Wait, I don’t even know his name! Should I ask it? Is it awkward? It’s been awhile and we haven’t even exchanged names… Should I not bother? Is it too late!?

“Hey,” Seungwoo says, “What’s your name?” It comes out more like a demand than a polite request, which the PT student chides himself for.

“M-me?” The baker sputters, clearly taken aback.

Who else?

“My name is Kang Seungsik.”

“Han Seungwoo,” The student replies, “Sorry I hadn’t asked earlier. I guess the whole being soaking wet thing distracted me.”

“No worries, I’m just glad you’re alright. If you’re okay with me asking: what were you doing out there anyways?”

Seungwoo sighs, his pupils flitting away sheepishly, “I was walking back from work, but I totally left my umbrella there.” I don’t know why I’m telling this guy. It’s so embarrassing. Why does it matter what I was doing?! “You’re, um, you’re closed, aren’t you?” Seungwoo asks, eyeing the hanging sign in the front door. The chalk sign is conspicuously flipped to the “CLOSED” side, leaving the “OPEN” facing the two inside.

Seungsik shrugs, “Working. I could sit in the back but it’s sort of a dungeon. I like it out here more. I can look out the window and the plants keep me company.”

Seungwoo snorts at that, “Yeah, I bet they make great company.”

“They’re better than my employees,” Seungsik shrugs, a little grin playing at the edges of his lips. “They don’t break things and make pastries ‘magically disappear’.”

“Sounds like they should be on the payroll.”

“I water them and they get to live here without paying rent! That’s pay enough.”

“Good point. Plus putting the oxygen out into the air counts for work, right?”

“Exactly! God knows we need it with the amount my employees suck it out,” Seungsik laughs.

Seungwoo can’t help but chuckle too, it’s a bit contagious, “Well, they make the place nice- the plants I mean. I, um, I dunno about the people. I’ve never been in before, but… Whoever arranged it did well.”

Seungsik scratches the back of his neck and glances away sheepishly. There’s a deepening blush creeping across his cheeks.

“Wait- was it you?!” Seungwoo’s eyes widen with disbelief.

“W-well I… Maybe… Yeah...”

“Seriously?!”

“It’s not like I did everything. God knows the jungle in here would be dead if I had to tend it by myself, but well, you know…”

“I know what?”

“Th-that whole… Eclectic, vintage thing is in and it was really easy to source stuff- like, most of it was either already bakery property or in storage from the family,” Seungsik looks across the bakery. “Everything else is sourced locally. When we told people we wanted to give the place a facelift, they were more than happy to help. We got everyone’s old chairs… Lamps… That bench over there? It’s an old church pew! Some of the tables are made with recycled wood. I liked the concept because it’s modern but it still totally fits, you know?”

“You nailed it,” Seungwoo remarks.

“Hey, uh, if you don’t mind me asking: where do you work? It’s pretty close if you walk, right?”

“Sunrise Healing Center- you know, up the hill.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m- I’m not a PT there, just a resident for the summer.”

“Ah, there it is,” Seungsik nods as if he’d just solved some complex equation.

“There what is?” Seungwoo quirks an eyebrow. He’s not sure he likes the baker’s tone.

“Oh- It’s- it’s nothing, just that, like, clearly you’re not from around here. Like, at all.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“Well, it’s a small town. I’ve lived here my whole life and never seen you.”

“What made you so sure we just hadn’t missed each other?”

“For over twenty years?” Seungsik laughs again, and it’s a sight to behold. He has a pretty smile that stretches widely across his face, and his eyes scrunch. He throws his head back a little. It’s cute, and Seungwoo envies him. He wishes he looked cute or charming, but he feels like he’s just got eternal resting bitch face. If a conscious effort isn’t being made, people tell him he looks snobbish, annoyed or even intimidating. He imagines that Seungsik doesn’t have that problem.

“Alright, you got me,” Seungwoo puts his hands up facetiously. “You gonna take me in? Ya’ll don’t take kindly to outsiders- that kind of thing?”

“Yeah we pray to our tribal weather gods to make it rain really hard on them. Seems like it’s worked so far.”

“Is that what you guys do on weekends? Because honestly I’m not sure what else there is from what I’ve seen.”

“Hm,” Seungsik purses his lips momentarily, “You from a big city.”

“ The big city.”

“Wow. This must be a far departure from that.”

“Just a bit,” Seungwoo chuckles, “I definitely am… Adjusting. To lots of things.”

“Must break your heart not to hear sirens all the time.”

“The cicadas are almost worse. And the crickets? I’ve only heard crickets in real life like… Twice! At least, before coming here. Ugh… Jokes aside I miss, though. I miss it already.”

“Miss your family?”

“No- I mean, yeah, I do, but I didn’t even live with them. I just… Miss the lights. The people. Always having stuff to do, that sort of stuff. Not a single tavern and a bunch of shops that close at seven o’ clock.”

“Don’t you get claustrophobia being sandwiched in with all those people?”

“It’s tight, but I like the lifestyle, so it’s totally worth it.”

“I guess it’d be nice not to have to drive all the time, but sometimes the idea of trains scare me.”

“They’re not that hard to figure out. Ugh… I miss it so much,” Seungwoo can’t help but rest his head in his hands, daydreaming about it. The lights, the people, the honking horns and smog. It’s not necessarily butterflies and rainbows, but it’s home.

“Don’t worry, the summer will end before you know it. You can go back really, really soon. Until then, I hope you’re not too miserable here,” Seungsik chuckles. His face says happy, but something about his tone belies bitterness.

Why does it sound like he wants me to leave town?!

Just as Seungwoo tries to recover his fumbled words, Seungsik bursts out of his chair.

Oh, crap. He’s gonna kick me out, isn’t he?

Except, he does no such thing. Instead, he goes back into the kitchen. Seungwoo merely watches as the baker disappears, reappearing moments later. When he comes back out, there’s a little cup in his hand and a spoon. A snack?

“Clonk.”

The cup and spoon are practically slammed down in front of Seungwoo. He actually, physically flinches from the suddenness of it. Without any context whatsoever, Seungsik demands:

“Try it.”

“What?” Seungwoo glances down at the cup. Clearly, it’s a pudding cup. It’s actually fairly cute. The contents are a faint mint green color, and a dollop of whipped cream sits on top. The portion is petite - no bigger than one of the little puddings people buy in stores. His head tilts in confusion. Why is it green? “Uhhhh, um, I-” Oh no, not this again. Be nice, Seungwoo. Be nice. “I don’t really eat swee-”

“It’s healthy,” Seungsik cuts him off suddenly. The baker looks at the other with a peculiarly intense gaze, looming over him ominously.

“It’s… Pudding,” Seungwoo murmurs, looking back down at the tiny cup on the table.

“It’s alternative pudding,” Seungsik remarks triumphantly as if he’s just announced some monumental discovery.

“Alternative pudding?”

“Yes, alternative pudding. Nutritious pudding.”

“Uhh-”

“There’s no dairy or even sugar in it- well, unless you count the sugar naturally occurring in the ingredients.”

“What’s in it?”

“It’s base is actually avocados-”

“Avocados?!” Seungwoo’s eyes widen in fear.

“Yes! Avocados! God, why does everyone look at me like that! They’re a great source of healthy fats and potassium, dammit!”

“O...Kay. Is that why this is slightly green, then?”

“Mhm!” Seungsik chirps. “Next biggest component is almond butter, then there’s banana, vanilla powder - made from just vanilla extract - um, oh a kiss of agave nectar - which is non glycemic by the way - and stevia. The whip on top is just coconut cream,” He finishes triumphantly.

“Hm,” Is all Seungwoo can respond. It’s not bad, in his opinion. While using things like banana and avocado don’t promise low calorie count, it is nutritious. There’s lots of good fats, potassium, and vitamins there like he’d said. The addition of almond butter amps up the cal count more than Seungwoo would like, but it’s fairly healthy in its own rite. He glances at the baker - who’s watching him closely - and back at the pudding.

Shit. I have to try this, don’t I? The guy gives me bandages and coffee and towels. I have to try this.

Dejectedly, Seongwoo sighs. He picks up the spoon nervously, and slowly, he lowers it toward the cup. The student takes the tiniest dollop of pudding he can possibly justify. His spoon shakes as he brings it to his mouth until finally, he puts it in. Seungwoo squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation of recoiling in disgust.

He blinks his eyes open and withdraws the spoon from between his lips.

Then he takes another spoonful.

And another.

And another.

Holy crap, this is so good! Seungwoo can hardly believe he’s living real life in that moment. The pudding is unlike anything he’s ever put in his mouth before. The avocado base gives it a silky texture, and the almond with vanilla is a classic combo perfectly executed. Just as the baker had said, there’s just a kiss of sweetness given by the addition of agave and stevia. It makes the pudding feel like a gratifying dessert without being sickening. Seungwoo’s fairly certain he could jump headfirst into a vat of the stuff and be pretty content. Sure, he’d die, but it’d be a happy death.

“D-do you like it?” Seungsik asks nervously. Seungwoo had nearly forgotten the other was there.

Taking his fourth or fifth spoonful out of his mouth, he nods emphatically, “It’s actually really good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Like… Really really.”

“Really really really ?”

“Yes. I won’t say it again,” Seungwoo says.

Seungsik clasps his hands together and bounces up and down a bit. Obviously, he’s thrilled, but he looks like he’s not trying to show it. Seungwoo supposes he’s glad for the other’s apparent triumph.

“I’m glad,” Seungsik says with a wide grin, “I’m um… I’m trying to branch out a bit. Try new things.”

“Well, I guess you’re on the right track,” Seungwoo comments, spooning the last of his pudding into his mouth.

Upon finishing, he sighs contently, and his eyes drift out toward the window. Without either of the two realizing, the rain had cleared up significantly. It’s by no means blue skies and sunshine, but the rain no longer falls horizontally. Seungwoo starts to wonder how long he’d even been there. It only felt like a couple minutes, but they had gotten a bit caught up, didn’t they?

“Oh, look,” Seungsik notices it, too, “The rain’s cleared up. Thank goodness. I was afraid we’d have power outages…”

“Yeah, I better go,” Seungwoo says, standing up sheepishly. As much fun as his foray into small town smalltalk had been, he’s more than ready to take a shower (the kind you get under a metal nozzle, not the sky). “Thank you so much for everything. Oh, um-” He reaches for his pocket, “How much is everything? The coffee and pudding-”

“Whoa. No, no, no,” Seungsik puts a hand up, “I am not taking your money.”

“It’s fine, really. I ate your pudding and drank your coffee. Not to mention the puddle I made.”

“No means no. Final answer. Now put that away,” The baker says, looking pointedly at Seungwoo’s wallet.

“Fine. Alright, well, I guess I’ll head out. Thanks again.”

“Any time. I’ll walk you to the do- oh, wait,” Seungsik’s eyebrows raise. “You’ve, uh,” He chuckles, “You’ve got something on your cheek.”

“I- what?”

“Here,” Seungsik grabs one of the towels he’d been using, “It’s on your cheek.”

Seungwoo snatches the towel out of Seungsik’s hand and starts wiping his face blindly. Heat pricks his face, and he can feel the red spread across.

“Did I get it?”

“Um, well, no it’s like- I dunno how it got so high up it’s like,” Seungsik points at the top of Seungwoo’s cheekbone.

“Here?” Seungwoo asks, wiping.

“No, no, higher, just-”

“Here?”

“A little higher.”

“Up here?”

“Um, can I just- it’s gonna drive me crazy if- I mean- Oh, you got it!” Seungsik sighs in relief, like it’d been his face splattered with pudding. “Okay, let me walk you out. Wait- the umbrella!”

“That’s fine,” Seungwoo shakes his head, “I live across the street, I’m sure I can reach there before any major damage is done.”

“Oh, well that makes us neighbors, I guess.”

“Neighbors?”

“I live upstairs,” Seungsik points at the ceiling.

“Damn. Convenient.”

“It is. Alright, well, I’ll um- good night!”

“Yeah,” For real this time, Seungwoo thinks. The two head to the door, and Seungwoo reaches for the doorknob.

So does Seungsik.

In what is perhaps the most embarrassing thing to happen yet, Seungwoo’s fingers accidentally tangle with Seungsik’s when they grab the doorknob at the sametime.

Lightning strikes - but not outdoors. Electricity sparks in Seungwoo’s fingertips and runs through his veins to his chest. As if traveling on a livewire, the sensation fizzles down to his toes, making his entire body buzz. His heart lurches, and a flurry of electricity flares in his chest.

What the heck? Seungwoo asks himself. He swallows nervously; a lump had risen in his throat without his knowing. He stands dazed for a second, paralyzed by shock. Somehow, among all the weird little feelings bubbling up inside him, a sentence prevails above them all. Seungwoo remembers something he’d read not long ago:

“... so you never know, you might find that spark with who you least expect!”

Nuh-uh. Seungwoo tells himself. No way.

“Are you okay?” Seungsik’s voice pulls Seungwoo back into the real world. The student looks at the other, surprised. Glancing at the doorknob, he sees that Seungsik had already taken his hand off. Yikes.

“Wh- Oh- I’m- I’m fine. Sorry, totally zoned for a sec,” Seungwoo chuckles awkwardly, trying to play it off.

“You sure?” Seungsik asks. It’s surprising. He looks so adorable normally, but when he wears a more serious expression, there’s a handsomeness about him. His face actually has some very masculine features. He’s cute but also undeniably a man - a man with a nurturing soul and infectious smile.

Seungwoo lets out a rapidfire of words as he departs,“Yeah I’m sure goodbye nice to meet you sorry about being rude bye!” He waves frantically, nearly bolting out the door. The PT student prays that he’s not being watched as he makes a break for his place. It’s still raining, but he doesn’t care. Heat still stings his face, and his stomach does flip flops.

No .

He thinks.

Seungwoo keeps shaking his head.

Nope.

We are not about to have a crush on some random guy in some hick town. This is not happening. This is NOT HAPPENING!

Unbelievable.

It’s just unbelievable.