Archive of Our Own

“Home”

Elang Defrianto

I’ve been feelin’ cautious for all this time

I had nothing precious beside my life

Then I saw an angel ready to fly

You were one in million so let me try

The windows rumbled and a thunder echoed inside the café. Yixing jumped, hitting his knee under the table, and his latte splashed inside his cup.

A snort came from the counter and he turned to glare at Jongdae. He was trying to stay professional as he prepared a woman's coffee.

The storm had begun half an hour ago and it showed no signs of stopping soon—which was great. Almost. Yixing loved storms. They were perfect. Magnificent. Amazing shooting scenarios to photograph, both during and after water poured down. Without mentioning that they were the best excuse to stay home, away from people. So, yeah. Perfect was the word.

At the moment, though, it was an inconvenient. He was stuck in the café for as long as the storm lasted and he wanted to head back home.

Not that he had things to do there. But as a person who enjoyed the tranquility of solitude—'of fucking isolation', according to Jongdae—he spent a good amount of time—'alarming amount of time', according to Minseok—alone at his apartment, going out only when necessary.

Jongdae and Minseok insisted that he needed to go out more. That being alone all the time wasn't fine. But it was fine. Yixing liked it; he didn't mind. Besides, he was 28. He was an adult. He was well damned free to decide to interact with barely anyone if he wanted.

Taking a sip of his latte, Yixing glanced out the window. There was a small river of rainwater along the sidewalk that washed away fallen leaves and trash. Cars passed fast over puddles, splashing everything on their way. Water fell from the tarps covering the door and window. A soaked brown dog was resting under them, covering itself from soaking even more.

It was a pity Yixing hadn't brought his camera.

Another thunder roared and he jumped again. Maybe storms weren’t that perfect.

The lady at the counter mumbled her thanks and walked out. She climbed in a car that was waiting for her at the front of the place. Without her, that made only two people at the café.

"What a day, huh?"

Yixing jumped once again, hitting his elbow with the edge of the table.

Laughing, Jongdae took the seat in front of him.

"Why are you so jumpy today?" he asked, reaching for Yixing's cup.

"You took me by surprise."

"So did all the thunders, didn’t they?"

Jongdae took a sip from the cup and Yixing frowned. That was his latte. Whatever. There wasn't much left and it was already cold, anyway.

"So.” Jongdae put the empty cup down, and crossed his arms on top of the table. “Yesterday I met with Junmyeon at the mall. He was looking for a new lamp or something."

God, not Junmyeon again…

Yixing looked down at the table and made a ball with his napkin.

"He asked for you."

"Ah." Yixing rolled the ball, not looking up.

"Yep… Have you thought about it?"

No, not really, Yixing wanted to say. There was nothing to think about. Just like the other… three? Maybe four…? Six. Six times.

"What should I tell him?" Jongdae insisted.

Yixing shrugged. "That I say no, thanks."

He looked up and saw how Jongdae pursed his lips and frowned.

Great. He was about to get scolded.

"Yixing."

"Jongdae," he said in a poor imitation of Jongdae's voice.

Sighing, Jongdae fell back on his chair. "Come on, Yixing! Why not? Is there something wrong with him?"

That was the thing. Nothing was wrong with Junmyeon. He was an okay guy. More than okay, actually. Junmyeon was kind and polite, selfless, always trying to make people laugh. He had interesting conversation topics and there was no chance for people to get bored. And he was handsome. A lot. So really, Junmyeon was fine.

The problem was Yixing himself. He didn't want to give it a chance. Life was good as it was and there was no need to change that.

He shrugged again, pushing his paper ball away. "I'm not interested."

Jongdae studied him for a moment, narrowing his eyes. That look had always made Yixing feel uncomfortable. Jongdae was funny and chirping and he wasn't serious unless the situation required it. You had to be doing something really wrong to become the receiving end of such a stare.

"Is it still because of Yifan?"

Yixing sent him an incredulous look, not believing his ears. "You're not being serious."

"Am I laughing?" Jongdae raised his eyebrows, still keeping his serious face. It was scary. "Please tell me why I shouldn't think he's the reason. Because it's been three years. Three years. And all that you've been doing ever since is finding excuses not to have someone in your life—"

"I don't want to have someone in my life."

"—and be happy for once, and that's plain bullshit. How many times do Minseok and I have to repeat it for you to get it?"

Yixing rolled his eyes and stared out the window. He already regretted having left his apartment.

"Yifan left you for that Zitao guy and broke your heart. Yes, we all know that and I still want to punch his ugly face. But that was three years ago, Yixing." Jongdae raised an eyebrow, hitting the table with one finger. "It's time for you to get over it and fucking move on."

Yixing felt the annoyance already bubbling in his stomach.

Were they going to fight now? Really?

It was ridiculous.

Jongdae was ridiculous.

He made sure to tell him that, and Jongdae snorted.

"Ridiculous me?" He pointed a finger toward himself. "As far as I know, I'm not the one who tortures himself by looking at Yifan's happy-couply pictures every single day. Or the one who sulks in the corners, being an asshole to everyone who tries to approach."

Yixing couldn't help but scowl.

What the actual fuck?

He wasn’t sulking, he wasn’t an asshole, and he was definitely not torturing himself. He didn't know what he was doing, but it was his business, wasn't it? Neither Jongdae nor Minseok—or anyone, actually—had a saying on it.

"That's my problem, don't you think?" His voice sounded harsher than he had intended, but he was getting impatient.

Why couldn't they leave him alone with it? He didn't want to date anyone. So what? He wasn't doing any damage. They needed to chill.

"No. No, it's not," Jongdae said, shaking his head. "It's not when we're the ones who have to deal with it. All this is stupid and you are pathetic."

A thunder made sure to add a strident effect to the end of Jongdae's sentence. Yixing decided storms weren't perfect at all.

He settled with rolling his eyes and let the guy talk. He wouldn't win, anyway, so he would pretend they weren't having this conversation.

Jongdae didn't stop.

"The only thing you do is take pictures, drink coffee and push people away."

Yixing frowned, ready to argue, but Jongdae beat him to it.

"Don't look at me like that. You do. The only ones you have contact with are your parents, your grandparents, Luhan, Minseok and I."

He raised his fingers with each person he mentioned, trying to prove his point—to no avail, because he hadn't proved anything. He had seven fingers raised. Those were already many people.

"And now not even that!" Jongdae continued. "Because Minseok won't be back until December next year. And I'm pretty sure that you hardly talk to Luhan anymore."

Yixing stared out, focusing his attention on a puddle of water.

What was wrong with having a few people in his life? Relationships were unnecessary. The more people you let in, the more room there was for disappointment. He had confirmed it three years ago, when Yifan had left him, and all their common friends had chosen to take his side.

“You need to understand, Yixing. Yifan is a free soul and he was feeling caged with you. Zitao makes him happy. If you love him, you should let him go.”

That's what they had told him—and, Bullshit, was what Yixing had thought.

They were his friends, too, dammit. Friends supported each other. Not low-key implied that it had been his fault that Yifan had cheated on him because he was 'feeling caged'.

Yixing had believed that they had been his friends as much as they had been Yifan's. That they were going to be there for him, too. Because he was sad, and heartbroken, and in need of a friend. Sure, Minseok and Jongdae had always been there; ever since he had arrived to Seoul all those years ago. And now he knew that he didn’t need anyone else. But back then, he had believed—stupidly so—that he could count on those other friends, too.

Of course that didn't happen.

That was why he didn't want new people in his life. There was no point in spending time and energy on someone who would walk away. It was better this way. He had to remind himself that it was better this way. That he was better this way.

"I won't date your cousin," Yixing finally said, looking back at Jongdae.

Jongdae opened his mouth to continue arguing. But the little bell at the door twinkled, driving his attention away.

Sighing, he moved to stand up, not before whispering, "I'll tell Junmyeon you said yes. You’ll go to that date, whether you like it or not."

Yixing would've complained. Would've told him to go find a girlfriend, instead, and leave him alone. Would've told him to go fuck himself, even. But he wasn't paying attention anymore. His focus was on the guy that had walked in.

Tall, broad shoulders, long legs, hair as brown as a hazelnut.

He was…

He was…

He was completely soaked.

Turning to stare out, Yixing noticed that the storm had finally calmed down, but the guy’s clothes were wet. Who knew for how long he had been out there under the rain.

Poor man.

His shirt clung to his body and his fringe was stuck to his forehead. He buried his hand on his hair as he glanced at the menu on the wall, and a few droplets fell on the counter. Yixing saw a faint turn up of the guy's lips as Jongdae walked behind the counter and took his order. He wondered how his smile would look like from the front.

The exchange of words was foreign to his ears. He grasped something about vanilla, cinnamon, and credit card. Something else about toilet, rain, and right over there.

After that, everything happened so fast that Yixing didn’t have time to react. The guy turned around and of course his eyes landed on Yixing. It wasn't like he had had any other choice, given that there was no one else in the café, but it still made Yixing jump.

If they would've been in a movie, he was sure that that was the moment when the cheesy music would start playing. The scene's speed would reduce to 0.25x. But they weren't. They music-lessly looked at each other—awkwardly from Yixing's side. Curiously from the guy's side.

Yixing then noticed three things.

One, the guy was younger than him. He would bet two or three years; four at most.

Two, the guy had a perfect sculpted face. He was, without a doubt, the whole extension of the word 'handsome'. The most handsome he had seen in his life, Yixing would dare to say.

Three, he had been shamelessly staring at him ever since the guy had walked in and he had caught him on the act.

Yixing’s mouth went dry. A blush crept up his cheeks. His eyes landed on Jongdae, who was witnessing the weird scene with a raised eyebrow.

He had to get out of there.

He dragged his chair back, feeling his pockets to check if he had his wallet and keys with him. He stood up and walked toward the door.

"Wait, you going?" Jongdae asked behind him.

Yixing only waved his hand as a farewell, without turning around. He pushed the door open and just like that, he was out.

The air was cool and it smelled like humid grass. Fortunately, there was no water falling from the sky and Yixing thanked heavens for it. He risked a glance at the window. Jongdae was already preparing something at the coffee machine. The guy was nowhere around.

Feeling himself able to breathe, Yixing hugged his jacket to his body and finally began his way back home. Where he could be alone, without people telling him what to do with his life.

☕

Yixing would have the perfect shot, only if that lady could clean that horrendous snot that was peeking under her son's nose. He would call it, 'Afternoon after school'.

Or not.

That didn't sound creative.

He was at his usual table next to the window, taking random pictures of people who came in for a coffee. Jongdae had already told him that he wasn't allowed to do it.

“You disturb my customers. Stop being a creep,” he always said.

Yixing never listened.

As a photographer, he had a sixth sense dedicated to beauty; he always knew where to find it. One of his favorite locations was the café. Picture he took there, picture that turned out amazing. And his camera was his partner in crime. She made magic. Captured the most simple of moments to turn them into the most beautiful pictures he had ever seen. And no, he wasn't conceited. All the credit was for his camera. She was the one who made the job. Yixing was only the guy who pressed the button.

And that's what he did once again. He pressed the button, capturing the kid with the snot. Putting the camera down, he checked the shot. It wasn’t something he would put in a gallery, but it looked decent. 'Snot after school' would do just right.

The camera went all the way up to his face again, and he looked around to find what to capture next. There was an old man reading his newspaper with a few crumbs of bread on his moustache. A couple of teenagers sharing a milkshake because oh, yes, it was romantic. A group of women talking about the latest gossips at their kids’ school. A tall guy with broad shoulders opening the door and—

Yixing immediately put his camera down.

He blinked a few times, forcing his eyes to regain their natural focus. A frown settled between his eyebrows when he realized that he wasn’t seeing wrong. The guy from last week’s stormy day was walking down the counter.

Yixing’s frown deepened.

What was he doing there again?

Well. Duh. He was buying coffee, but why there? Yixing would bet all his belongings that last week had been the first time he had stepped into the café. It had to be; otherwise, he would remember him. Because yet again, he had a sixth sense for beauty, and the guy wouldn't have escaped his radar. Yixing wasn’t afraid of accepting that.

Now the guy was back. And he wasn’t soaked. Good for him. He was wearing a black, long sleeve shirt with a pair of jeans. He had his hair tucked under a cap and a bag hung one of his shoulders.

Placing a hand on the counter, the guy scanned the menu for a moment. But completely out of the blue, he turned around, seeming to be looking for something. His eyes immediately landed—of course they did—on Yixing's table, catching him staring.

Again.

Shit.

Yixing looked away and began playing with the buttons of his camera. Going through picture after picture; deciding that none of them was good enough. Ignoring the heavy feeling of the guy's eyes on him.

He internally chastised himself. That was why he never, ever stared at people. First, because it was impolite. And second, because it would give away the wrong impression. He didn't want people misunderstanding the intention of his stares—which mostly were of disapproval. People tended to do tons of stupid things. Now, he had been caught staring, not once, but twice, and to the same guy nonetheless. It was embarrassing.

Yixing heard Jongdae speaking and a small breath escaped his lips. At least the guy's attention was somewhere else.

He continued going through his pictures, only to have something to do. But a few minutes later, he chanced another glance to the counter. Jongdae was facing the coffee machine, looking like a pro with how fast he moved. The guy, on the other hand, was playing with his phone. His thumb never stopping its scrolling-down motion.

Yixing could only look at him from the side and honestly, his profile was such a spectacle. He had a perfect nose. His eyebrows looked like they had a permanent frown, giving him some sort of annoyed, yet elegant look. His lips were thin, as far as Yixing could see, and was that a mole on his neck? His neck… It was long and had a prominent Adam’s apple. Yixing wanted to trace his fingers over it, and go down and place them on his—probably—firm chest. Then go back to his broad shoulders, because they looked amazing and just why not?

Broad-shoulders guy looked like a noodle. Kind of. Not really. He was tall and slim, but his—probably—firm chest confirmed that he still had some toned muscles somewhere under his clothes—probably.

He was, to put it simple, fit.

Noodles weren't fit.

Wait. Noodles weren’t fit? What was he even thinking?

Yixing frowned and shook his head, glancing down again. He was going delirious.

He noticed that his distraction had made him put a finger on the camera lens. He took out a small piece of cloth and wiped it with such delicacy he might as well have been caressing a baby. In some way, he was. His camera was his baby. The only one that mattered. His only companion in life.

Once he finished, he put the camera up to make sure the lens was clean again—it was, and he wished it wasn't. Then he wouldn't have a clear view of Broad-shoulders looking at him instead of his phone.

Yixing kept his hands there, frozen in front of his face. Broad-shoulders sent him a small smile and Yixing lost it. Something weird bubbled in his chest and he didn't like it.

Luckily for him, he didn't have to embarrass himself even further. Broad-shoulders turned around and didn't look at Yixing again. Not even as he walked to the door, coffee in hand.

Yixing wouldn't say he had kept his eyes glued to him, but yeah, he had. To, you know, make sure he wouldn't look at him again.

Relief flooded through him when Broad-shoulders walked out the café. Although a part of him—a pretty annoying, stupid, completely uncalled for part of him—was a tiny, little bit disappointed about it.

Stop being ridiculous, Yixing.

He scowled again, to no one in particular. He was completely put off by this. By the attitude, by the train of thoughts. By the awkward situation he was in—was he even in any kind of situation? He didn’t know, but it wasn’t welcomed. Because he knew what was happening and he didn’t want it to happen.

He hadn’t even seen it coming. One day he was living a normal life, and the next he had become one of those guys that stared at others. And he had seen Broad-shoulders twice. What could he even expect now?

Sighing, he placed the camera on the table and buried his face on his hands.

"All this is stupid and you are pathetic," was what Jongdae had said. Maybe he was right.

But maybe Yixing was lucky, and Broad-shoulders would never go back to the café.

That would be great.

Yeah… maybe he was lucky.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Actually, he wasn't.

After that day, Broad-shoulders appeared in the café often.

The following week, he went twice. The one that followed, he went four times. A month and a half after that rainy day, Broad-shoulders was going almost daily. Or at least that was what Yixing assumed. Whenever he went to do his usual visits to the café—which coincidentally had become almost daily, too. For no reason in particular, of course—Broad-shoulders never failed to show up.

Yixing noticed that his procedure was always the same. To come in, order, and then leave; never to stay. He still looked at Yixing from time to time, and sometimes he even smiled. But that changed when, for the first time, two months after the storm, he took a seat after having ordered.

It had taken Yixing by surprise at first. Why was he staying? Didn't he have somewhere else to be? He must have somewhere else to be. Maybe he was only waiting for his coffee and then he would go. It was a good panorama, but to Yixing’s utter displeasure, Broad-shoulders didn’t leave.

Yixing had wanted to ask him to get out. His presence was disturbing him and he couldn’t focus on anything else than trying to keep his eyes away from him. It had been a hard day, to be honest.

After that, he considered to stop his visits at the café, but that would be too obvious. More than he was already being, anyway. He couldn’t risk it. Not because of Broad-shoulders, but Jongdae. He hadn’t stopped with the dating-Junmyeon thing. That could be a good excuse to avoid the café, but it hadn’t been reason enough to stop going before. Jongdae would notice something was off.

So Yixing continued going, though it didn’t mean he wasn’t uncomfortable with the whole scenario. He didn’t like how things were developing, yet he still couldn’t avoid stealing glances at Broad-shoulders whenever he wasn’t looking. It was nerve-wracking. It made him feel like a stalker. His constant staring led him to discover a few, small details that he was sure he wouldn’t know if he had kept his eyes away.

To begin with, Broad-shoulders was some sort of writer. He always took a bunch of paper sheets and a pen out of his bag and spent the whole afternoon writing God-knew-what. Yixing admired—and envied—his ability not to get distracted by anything. He wished he could be the same.

Also, when Broad-shoulders had come to buy-and-not-stay, he had always left with a coffee in hand. But now that he bought-and-stayed, he didn’t drink coffee, but bubble tea. Fucking bubble tea. Like a kid. Yixing didn’t understand the change, but it made Broad-shoulders seem less intimidating. And for some reason, he always found himself smiling when Broad-shoulders was distracted sipping from his straw.

The guy also had a fixation for licking his lips nonstop. More so when he was stuck with some word or phrase. He didn’t leave it alone until his block went away and Yixing wished he could just stop it. That had led him to realize that his lips looked soft, and the softness only intensified when they were wet.

Now, not content with having a perfect bone structure, Broad-shoulders had also a perfect posture. It didn’t matter how long he stayed on his seat, he never, ever, bend his back. It made him look something near to perfect.

Maybe he was perfect.

It was like looking at a sculpture in a museum. Yixing was there, in front of him, but he wasn’t allowed to touch or get too near. More than once he imagined how the information tag would look like. If Broad-shoulders were a sculpture, indeed.

Everything was clear in his mind.

The ‘Artist’ space would have his parents’ names.

The ‘Year’ space would say 199-something—1993? 1994? He was certainly younger, but how much younger?

The ‘Dimension’ space would have like six feet or so—Yixing wasn’t sure, but he himself was 5.8-ish. Broad-shoulders was taller as far as he had guessed. So, six.

The ‘Description’ space would say something like, ‘Bubble tea drinker and inveterate writer. Heavy distractor for promising photographers in search of a lonely life.’

The only space Yixing was still wondering about, was the ‘Title’ one. If there was something he hadn’t discovered with all his staring, that was Broad-shoulders’ real name.

He could put ‘Broad-shoulders’ in there, but he wasn’t convinced about it. The guy had to have a name, of course. But it didn’t matter how much staring someone could do; there was no way to know a person’s name by only staring. That was actually the reason why he was stuck with calling him Broad-shoulders in his mind. Though it didn’t matter. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to know his name. He didn’t want to know him. He was having this sort of fixation on him because Broad-shoulders didn’t stop looking at him. And smiling. And being a distraction. And that made Yixing uncomfortable. That was all about it.

What he didn’t consider, though, was that they weren't the only ones coexisting in the same space. There were many, many people surrounding them. Meaning that many, many people were able to see it all. And he remembered this small fact one particular afternoon, two months and a half after the storm. He hadn’t seen the bomb coming. But he finally got the answer to what to put on the ‘Title’ space, without even asking.

“Sehun.”

Jongdae flopped on the seat next to him, and Yixing blinked at him.

“What?”

“His name is Sehun.”

His… name? Whose name was— oh.

Oh.

Okay.

Wow.

Yixing took his cup and gulped down the remaining coffee. He prayed that his face wouldn’t give away how this was making his stomach churn.

“And you’re telling me this because…” he drawled, putting the cup down. He kept it in his hands to avoid fidgeting with his fingers.

“Thought you would like to have this piece of information.”

“Why would I?”

Jongdae shrugged.

“How do you even know that?” Yixing asked, trying to sound casual about it. He hoped he did sound casual about it.

“I’ve made my research.” Jongdae crossed his arms, leaning back on the chair. “Unlike you, I put myself to work and asked under the pretense that I love to know the name of my customers.”

Yixing gave him a look. “That’s bullshit.”

“He doesn’t know that.” Jongdae shrugged again, throwing him a wicked grin. “You’re welcome.”

Scoffing, Yixing looked down at his cup again. He traced the ear, feeling the soft porcelain caress his fingertips.

He didn’t know what to say. And even if he knew, he would still be in a dilemma. Not responding was like admitting something; anything. But denying something, anything, would be suspicious, too. That only made him feel like it was way worse than he had imagined.

And probably it was. Because Jongdae thought something was going on and Yixing didn't talk to Broad-shoulders—Sehun, his brain corrected. If they at least talked, he would be able to argue that Jongdae was only imagining things. That he was confusing a good chat with a fellow coffee lover with something that didn’t exist. With something that wasn’t, and would never be there. But they weren’t talking. So Jongdae was only assuming things based on what he thought he had seen—whatever that had even been.

How had he ended up there? When had he lost control over it all?

Yixing looked up again, finding Jongdae staring at him. It was still as intimidating as the first time, and he was sure that it would never change.

"What?" he asked, because he had nothing better to say.

"Nothing, it's just…" Jongdae took a deep breath, letting the silence prolong more than needed. "Why hadn't you told me you liked someone? I would've stopped annoying you about Junmyeon a long time ago, otherwise."

Yixing made a face. Not listening about Junmyeon would've been nice, but there was nothing he could've said. Because he did not like anyone.

"I don't like anyone," he said.

Jongdae rolled his eyes. “Really, Zhang?”

“'Really' what? I don’t like anyone.”

Jongdae scrunched his face in irritation and shook his head. They didn't speak for a moment and Yixing wondered if the subject was already forgotten. But then Jongdae opened his mouth again, and no, they weren't done.

“You know,” Jongdae said, leaning on the table, "I don't blame you. Sehun looks good. And he's nice.”

It was time for Yixing to roll his eyes. Why couldn't he drop it?

“I’m not going to date him.”

Jongdae raised his eyebrows and let a smirk creep up his lips. “Nobody’s talking about dating him.”

Yixing frowned and looked away. "You're annoying. Go away," he said earning a laugh from Jongdae.

"This is my café. You go away."

Yixing raised an eyebrow. "It's your dad's."

"You see those little minions over there?" Jongdae pointed his finger toward the other two baristas. "I hired them myself. That means I'm the boss,” he said, sounding proud. “And I don't see dad around, anyway, so this is technically mine."

Yixing smiled and rolled his eyes yet again. That was what he did most of the time when they were together. Roll his eyes. And smile. But more the rolling part.

"Seriously, though." Jongdae put his serious face back and Yixing contained a long sigh. "I’m just saying that you could use another friend. Someone who doesn’t want you to date his cousin."

Yixing didn't even have to think of an answer. A group of teenagers got in and Jongdae stood up to help. When he was behind the counter, Yixing finally released that contained sigh.

He didn’t want another friend. He had enough with Jongdae and Minseok. And in some occasions Luhan—who, mind you, was the one who was always busy and hard to find. It wasn't Yixing's fault.

So yeah, he had three—two and a half?—friends, and he was fine. Sehun wasn’t invited to join his small social circle. Yixing didn't want to make him part of his life. In fact, he was desperate to get over his totally-no-stalker phase. He wanted to move on and keep the guy out of his mind for good.

But now that was harder, wasn't it? Because he already had a name. That, in some way, made him feel like he knew Sehun even more.

Yixing didn't want to know him even more.

Yixing didn't want to know him at all.

He stood firm with that idea.

But he couldn’t un-know someone. He was aware of it. His only reasonable option was to try his best to avoid looking at Sehun. And he did try. He really, really did. But man, wasn’t it hard! It was as though he had developed some kind of radar.

A Sehun radar.

It didn’t matter what he was doing. Whenever Sehun walked in, Yixing happened to look up. He could be taking pictures or checking them on his laptop. Or scrolling through his phone. Or even blank staring at the wall. But the moment he decided to look up, even for only a second, Sehun always appeared. The guy didn’t even need to go in. He as much had to touch the door and Yixing’s head immediately straightened. He didn't have any other choice but to look at him.

And Sehun… well. Sehun always looked back. Yixing attributed it to the fact that Sehun was used to be the target of Yixing's eyes. Maybe he looked back because he walked in the café hoping not to find Yixing staring at him.

Honestly, Yixing was sorry to disappoint him every single time.

In this fashion, a few weeks went by. When Yixing realized it, it had passed almost four months after that stormy day—not that he was counting.

In some way, he had got used to it. It was like an unwanted part of his life, but little by little he had begun to get accustomed to it. What he would never get used to was Jongdae getting his nose in anything that didn’t compelled him and making him feel like he didn’t have a brain.

A pretty clear evidence of this was one day when Yixing arrived and found his table occupied. He begrudgingly sat at the counter instead and took his laptop out. He had work to do. For a couple of hours he found himself completely focused on his screen—with occasional breaks to rest his eyes and distract Jongdae. He would’ve said it was a perfect day. But the most dreaded part of his visits walked in at some point, looking like a perfect god. Making Yixing’s insides churn with annoyance.

He tried to pretend not to notice when Sehun stood next to him.

He tried to pretend not to notice when Sehun realized he was there and stared at him.

He tried to pretend not to notice how his heart began throbbing like a crazy inside his ribcage. Or how his hands were clammy. Or how his mouth went dry. Or how he wanted to throw up.

He tried to pretend, but of course his own body betrayed him. Before he even noticed, he was already turning to look at Sehun, too.

It was, by far, the closest they had ever been, and Yixing swore he could die right then and there. He knew Sehun was handsome. But looking at him from that close made him confirm that the man was the most ethereal person on Earth. Yixing felt like putting him inside a crystal box and sending him to a museum. He already had the information tag. He only needed the place to show everyone the perfect piece of art that Sehun was.

He knew he had to stop staring but he couldn't make himself stop. And even if he could, he was sure he still would go back to stare. Because Sehun was examining him with as much intent and it was hypnotizing. Somewhere inside his head, a small voice was screaming at him to say or do something. Anything to stop making a fool of himself. He was debating between following what that voice was saying or not, when someone cleared their throat next to them.

Just like that, the whatever they were having vanished and they both turned to look at Jongdae.

“Do I interrupt something?” Jongdae asked, completely unbothered of the daggers Yixing threw at him with his eyes.

“Erm… Hi, Jongdae,” Sehun mumbled. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks!" Jongdae smiled at Sehun, nodding once. "Do you want the usual?"

“Oh, no! No! Today I’m not staying.”

“Ow, no… It would’ve been nice to have you here today.” Jongdae raised his eyebrows and glanced at Yixing, then back at Sehun. “On another occasion it’ll be. But please tell me, what are you having, then?"

Yixing fixed his eyes back on his screen and tuned out the conversation. He saw from the corner of his eye how Jongdae moved around, preparing whatever Sehun had ordered. He tried his best to stay put; completely unbothered about his surroundings. Maybe if he didn’t move, Sehun wouldn’t notice that he was still there. Maybe he wouldn't notice how desperate he was to look at him again. It was humiliating to say the least. Yixing wished he could disappear.

Before he even had time to hate himself even more, though, Jongdae finished preparing Sehun’s order. Yixing saw that Sehun was back to buying coffee. And the bubble tea?

"What did you say?" Jongdae asked.

Yixing blinked. Jongdae was looking at him. Had the question been for him?

"What?"

"What to you. I didn't hear you." Jongdae glanced at Sehun and then corrected himself. "We didn't hear you. Something about bubble tea, I think you said."

Yixing stared stupidly at his friend. Had he talked aloud? Oh, hell. What was wrong with him?

"Okay… whatever," Jongdae said, suppressing a smile. He handed Sehun his coffee and threw him a chirpy, "Have a nice day!"

"Uh… yeah… Yes, thanks," Sehun mumbled. He threw a last glance at Yixing and left.

Alright, Yixing thought, staring straight at his screen. Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in. Jongdae is stupid for making you look like an idiot.

Breathe out. You are stupid for making yourself look like an idiot.

"That was smooth."

Jongdae was still standing there and Yixing tried his best to ignore him.

"You made a fool of yourself."

Breathe in. Don't punch him.

Breathe out. Don't kill him.

“Will it always be like this?”

“What are you talking about?” Yixing asked. He didn’t look at him. He didn’t even pretend that he cared about the question.

"You'll look at him. He'll look at you. It'll be obvious for everyone that you like each other. But you won't do something about it because you're being stupid pretending not to know about it."

Yixing scowled, finally looking at him. He did it on time to catch him shrugging.

"Why don't you, I don't know, make a move? Will you stay there staring at him forever?"

Yixing kept his scowl for as long as he could. He did not like Sehun. And Sehun definitely did not like him. It was a product of Jongdae's imagination so he could have material to pester him with.

"Will you?" Jongdae asked. He didn't receive a reply, so a smug smile appeared on his face. "I always knew you were a creep."

Yixing rolled his eyes and began packing his things. He had surpassed his Kim-Jongdae quota of the day.

"Are you leaving?" Jongdae laughed when Yixing ignored him. "Seriously?"

"And without leaving you a tip."

"I don't need your tips."

"And I don't need your nosy ass everywhere, but here we are."

Jongdae laughed again and Yixing walked toward the door.

"Yes, run away, you coward! Go hide yourself!"

This attracted the attention of the rest of the customers, but Yixing didn't care. He felt disappointed. And annoyed. And mad. And he didn't even know whether it was at Jongdae for being a fucker. At Sehun for being painfully attractive. Or at himself for being stupid. Maybe it was all of those.

It didn't matter, anyway. All this was ridiculous. But it was fine. He had to wait for a little bit more and it all would be back to normal. He would get over this weird phase of his and then it’ll be over for good.

At least he could only hope. Otherwise, he didn't know what he would do with himself if not.

☕

The bell at the door announced another customer walking in. Yixing winced, sick of hearing the sound nonstop. The café was full of people. It was one of those days when the weather made people want to warm themselves with a coffee. Granted, there had been worse days than this one, but as it was, the place had no room for any other soul.

This made him happy, for it meant that Kim family’s business would have a good day. But he wasn’t particularly fond of the excessive amount of people strolling one after another without a rest.

Logic dictated that, whenever you walked in a packed place, you should leave and come back later. This logical rule didn't apply to most people there, it seemed. The place was full, yet people insisted on coming and staying. Yixing had arrived early in the morning and had been there for hours. He had seen customers parade in and out and wait until their coffee was cold before they even got a seat. It was ridiculous.

Sighing, he went back to business. He was working on a set of photos of a recently married couple, with the Hangang Park in the background. He was sitting at his table with an empty cup of coffee next to his laptop. He had to check the lot of photos; scan them to find any imperfection—so far he had found none. Figures. He was particularly fond of one where the couple was staring at each other. A few leaves were flying around them, making it all magical and romantic.

He was thinking about this when someone walked next to him and pushed him for the umpteenth time. He turned to glare at the person, but they were already far away. To say that it was nerve-wracking was an understatement. Yixing had received hits and pushes from people who walked next to his table for hours. He ended up either spilling his coffee or messing his typing. It had been long since he had given up on offering polite smiles and mumbling, “It’s okay, don’t worry.”

Any other day, this would’ve been enough reason for him to leave. This time, though, it was beyond him why he was still there—or more like he refused to acknowledge why he was still there. It didn’t have something to do with the fact that certain someone was yet to arrive, that was for sure.

Tired of hearing the bell at the door twinkling, Yixing fished his headphones out of his backpack. For a while he worked on his pictures without problem, until someone pushed him again. He looked up from his laptop, annoyed, to find Jongdae standing next to him. He took off one of his headphones and raised his eyebrows.

“What is it?”

“Are you going to order anything else?”

Yixing glanced down at his cup. It was empty. “I’m fine.”

“Then leave. You’re impeding a real customer to get a seat.”

Yixing put on his most charming smile. “I would like another caramel latte. Please.”

Jongdae rolled his eyes, but said nothing else. He walked away, leaving Yixing to put his headphone back to his ear. A few photos were approved, only two were deleted. So far this was a good photoshoot. He was proud of it, honestly. It was elegant and beautiful and—

For the love of God!

Why was people so careless?!

Taking off his headphones, he looked up yet again, ready to fight whoever was interrupting him—again. But any intention to show his most ugly scowl vanished as soon as he saw who was standing next to him.

“Hello,” Sehun said.

What. The. Hell.

"Sorry to bother you, but do you mind if I sit here?"

He pointed at the empty chair at the table and Yixing followed the movement with his eyes. He looked at Sehun, at the chair, then back at Sehun.

Had he heard right? Did Sehun actually want to sit there?

"It's just—" Sehun said, scratching his head. As the seconds passed, he looked more and more unsure. A slight blush spread through his cheeks. It was most likely his embarrassment for not getting a reaction out of Yixing. "I thought there were no more available seats, but I saw this one and… I can wait to sit somewhere else if you don't—"

“You can sit here!” Yixing blurted out as soon as he saw Sehun’s intention to turn around. The speed at which he had reacted was humiliating, but he wouldn't go further into that; not now at least. Because Sehun was smiling at him—it was a sheepish smile, but a smile nonetheless—and for some reason that was the only thing that mattered to his brain at the moment.

"Thank you," Sehun mumbled, already sitting and putting his bag on the table.

Yixing only nodded, unable to do anything else. It was like his brain had short circuited. This ridiculous guy, in all his full handsome, broad-shouldered splendor, was sitting there. With him. At his table. It was like living his worst nightmare. He had to be on a nightmare. These things didn't happen in real life. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening. Why was this happening?

Forcing himself to look away—because he was well aware that he was staring (what was new, really)—Yixing tried to go back to work. By the time Jongdae placed a cup of caramel latte and a bubble tea on the table, though, he realized that his screen was still displaying the very same photo since Sehun had appeared. Jesus Fuck.

"So you did manage to sit," Jongdae said as he straightened again, smiling down at Sehun.

"Yeah, I…" Sehun glanced at Yixing and cleared his throat. "Yes."

"I'm glad." Jongdae placed a hand over Yixing's shoulder and patted him twice. "My friend here could use the company."

A strangled sound escaped Yixing’s throat and he turned as fast as he could to glare at Jongdae. He received a big smile in return.

“Anyway,” Jongdae said, patting Yixing’s shoulder again, “do you need anything else?”

Jerking his shoulder to push Jongdae’s hand away, Yixing shook his head. “We’re good. You can go now.”

Jongdae’s smile only widened and his eyes jumped from Yixing to Sehun a few times. He nodded and finally moved to walk away. “Call me if you need anything else."

Yixing thought he had got rid of him. But when Jongdae was out of Sehun’s sight, he turned around and threw him a thumbs up, mouthing a, “You’re welcome.”

Yixing’s eyes went wide. His madman of a friend was now laughing to himself as he walked toward the counter. He couldn’t believe it! No. Wait. Actually, he could. It was so Jongdae-like to throw a show like this! Yixing wanted to punch him and erase that shitty smile from his—

“It’s a little bit packed, isn’t it?”

Yixing blinked, taken back to reality. Sehun was looking at him with the straw of his bubble tea now on his mouth. He took a long sip and Yixing tried not to glance at his lips—he failed.

“It’s been worse,” he said, looking away to anywhere far from Sehun’s face. “Happens all the time on days like this.”

“You seem to come very often…”

“So do you…”

Yixing’s mouth had come up with that answer before his brain could process it. So when Sehun raised his eyebrows, he realized what he had said. Shit. He hadn’t intended to let Sehun know that he had noticed his constant presence in the café—alright, it wasn’t like Sehun didn’t know. It was more than obvious that they had noticed each other a whole lot of times. What Yixing hadn’t intended, was to confirm that he had paid attention to Sehun’s constant presence there. If that even made sense.

What he got as an answer was a laugh.

“So do I, yes…" Sehun said, placing down his bubble tea. “I like to come.”

“Even if it’s packed?”

“Even if it’s packed."

Well, it was evident that that logical rule from before didn’t apply to Sehun, either.

Yixing contemplated him for a moment before nodding and moving his eyes back to his laptop. Maybe if he ignored Sehun, then Sehun would ignore him, as well.

“I’m Sehun, by the way.”

Or maybe not…

I already know that, Yixing wanted to say, but what left his mouth was, “Yixing.”

To his absolute pleasure, Sehun didn’t speak again. He simply nodded and proceeded to take out his bunch of papers from his bag. He busied himself in writing and drinking, and Yixing guessed he had to do the same. He focused on checking his photoshoot for a long time. He risked a glance at Sehun once in a while. His eyes didn’t linger for too long, afraid of the guy looking up and catching him red-handed. Like always.

In this fashion, two hours went by, and when he realized, there we no more photos to check. His eyes stung, so he decided he was done with the laptop for the day. He began packing his things, attracting Sehun’s attention.

“Are you done?”

Yixing stopped with his laptop half-put in his backpack and nodded.

“So you’re leaving?”

Well… Yixing had thought about packing his things, but was he leaving? It wasn’t like he had somewhere else to be, but he didn’t have something else to do there, either. He could stay, of course. But if he did, that would mean he would have to deal with Sehun sitting at his table, and that wasn’t an option. Then he wouldn’t have anything else to do but fight against his desire to look at the guy. That was beyond what he could handle. Concluding that he wasn’t ready to deal with all that, he nodded again.

"Okay, then," Sehun said. "Have a nice day."

Yixing stared at him like a dumb. This was all super weird and he wanted to go home as soon as possible.

Sehun only smiled, pretending nothing was weird at all. That made Yixing internally wince. Sehun was probably thinking that sitting there had been a bad idea.

With an ugly feeling on his stomach, Yixing finished with his backpack and stood up. He wanted to say something; anything to make Sehun change his mind about him being an idiot. But nothing came to him; nothing that didn't make him look like a fool—more than he already did, that was.

Freeing a silent sigh, he moved to walk toward the door.

"Wait! Yixing?"

He froze. Now what?

Sehun had an arm on the back of the chair, with half body turned toward him. "Thanks for letting me join you."

"No problem," Yixing said and immediately turned around again. He walked out the café and left that mess behind.

When he arrived to his apartment, he threw himself face down on his couch and whined. He was a disappointment and a shame and a big clown and he hated Sehun for making him like this.

☕

“Why did you tell him to go sit at my table?” Yixing asked as soon as he entered.

The café wasn’t open yet, but he didn’t mind. He needed answers and he would get them right there and then.

“We’re still closed,” Jongdae said as he cleaned one of the coffee machines.

“Why did you do it?”

“I don’t know who ‘him’ is.”

“You do know,” Yixing said, placing his hands on the counter.

Sighing, Jongdae finally looked at him. He placed his rag on the counter and mirrored Yixing’s position. “Do you have proof of it?”

That was his proof! Jongdae's question was the proof he needed to know that Jongdae had done it, the asshole!

“Why did you do it?!” Yixing whined, throwing his hands in the air.

"Because he needed a place to sit?"

“You could’ve sent him to another table!”

“There was no other table, you know that. You were here, too.”

As much as Yixing hated to admit it, Jongdae was right. That didn't mean that it was enough reason to send Sehun to sit with him, though.

“You could've kicked him out.”

“Oh, come on! It couldn't have been that bad." Jongdae leaned on the counter and tilted his head. "Did you finally talk?"

"What do you mean finally?” Yixing asked, defensively. He hadn't come to answer questions but to make them. He didn't want to lose control of that.

"Yixing, please!" Jongdae rolled his eyes, so hard that for a moment they only looked white. Ew. "I did my labor yesterday as your friend and gave your whole"—he moved his hand around, signaling Yixing—"situation a little push. Now's your turn to do your job and win Sehun’s heart."

“Okay, you need to stop this. Right now.” Yixing lowered his voice and glared at the man in front of him. Jongdae rolled his eyes and that exasperated him even more. “No, Jongdae. For real. You don’t know if he’s into boys, so you need to stop this."

After saying this, Yixing had to take a second to process it. It was the first time he had thought about that. Was Sehun gay? Or was interested in guys? Why hadn’t he thought about that before? Not like it mattered, but… shit. Seriously, Yixing.

Confusion was pretty evident in Jongdae’s face. He squinted at him and tilted his head. "Don't you gays have like a gaydar or something?"

“What?”

“I think yours is broken.”

"I'm going to punch you.”

“Come on, Yixing!” Jongdae exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air, too. “I can’t believe you’re being this oblivious!”

Yixing closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He was overwhelmed. This was too much. "You know what? Forget it. Just… Call me when you feel like stepping out of my businesses." He turned around and headed toward the door.

"Fine! Then you can't come back unless you're ready to do something about those businesses," Jongdae said behind him.

Yixing only showed him his middle finger and walked away.

The next time he stepped foot on the café, it was a whole week after that. He had ended without energy to deal with Jongdae and Sehun. He had recovered about three days after that. Yet it still took him another full four days to decide he was ready to deal with it again. What he hadn't considered, though, was that in his table would be sitting no one but the devil himself.

Standing at the door, he stared at Sehun's wide back and considered fleeing the scene. But when he decided that fleeing wasn't an act of cowardice but self-preservation, Jongdae's chirpy voice came from the counter.

"Ah, so you decided to come back!"

That made Sehun look up from his papers. Yixing plastered a smile on his face, as though he didn't want to throw Jongdae a shoe or something.

"Good for you!" Jongdae returned the smile and there was a strange glint in his eyes. Yixing could only attribute it to Sehun sitting at his table. "Go sit! I'll get your coffee."

Yixing rolled his eyes at that fake kindness and walked toward the table. It didn't matter how much he wanted to keep himself away from Sehun. That table right there was his table and he was going to claim it back. He prepared in his head what he was going to say—he was between, "Hello, thanks for ruining my life!” and, “Move the fuck out of my table!”, but he couldn’t decide. Both options didn’t convey enough how much he was dreading all this 'situation', as Jongdae had called it.

To his relief, Sehun decided for him. They made eye contact and he put down his pen, offering him a small smile.

“Hey… Long time no see.”

Ah… wait. Had Sehun noticed his absence? That was… well. That was. Yixing didn’t want to think too much about it.

“I’ve been busy,” he said, while his inner voice screamed, “Lies!”

“Welcome back." Sehun smiled again, glancing down at his papers and back at Yixing. "I hope you don’t mind that I sat here again.”

Oh, but Yixing did mind. He wanted to kick him out of it, because nobody had given this guy the right to invade his property. But he didn't want to worsen the image Sehun had of him, so he was in a dilemma.

“It’s okay," he ended up saying. "It’s only a table.”

“Jongdae says it’s yours, though."

Typical. Kim Jongdae opening his mouth when it wasn't required.

"You shouldn't believe anything that comes out of that lunatic's mouth," Yixing said. He took off his backpack and sat. He wouldn't use another table just because Sehun had decided he wanted to use this one, too.

Sehun nodded and glanced down again, trying to suppress what Yixing assumed was a smile. "Alright. Got it," he said when he looked up again.

Yixing offered him a purse of his lips that he hoped would look kind of like a half smile, but he didn't add anything else. They looked at each other for a moment and he realized Sehun's eyes were the color of dark chocolate—that was information he didn't want to have.

Clearing his throat, he looked away and took his laptop out, signaling that their chat was over.

Sehun got the hint and he didn't speak again until he had to go.

"Don't disappear again, alright?" he said as he put his things inside his bag. "I can't keep on taking care of your table every time you're gone."

He then stood up, smiled and just like that, he was out—leaving a dumbfounded Yixing staring at the door.

That was the day when his heart began doing weird jumps. He didn't understand them. Maybe Sehun had infected him with some weird sickness, he didn’t know.

That was also the day when they had, apparently, agreed to sit together. Yixing wasn't even aware of that until the very next day, when Sehun walked in and headed directly toward him.

“Hi,” Sehun said as he took off his bag. He didn’t even give Yixing time to reply. As soon as he placed his things on the table, he darted toward the counter.

Yixing stared at his back, frowning. By the time Sehun was back, he still had that face and he swore he could see Sehun’s engines working inside his head. It wasn't long before everything clicked into place.

“Uhm… Is this okay?" Sehun mumbled, looking contrite. “If I sit here, I mean."

Yixing raised his eyebrows. Was it okay? At first it had certainly not. He had been dumb and dumber at the same time and it had been embarrassing. But the truth was that Sehun's presence hadn't been that bad. It had been easy to work with him there. It hadn't been as distracting as having him sitting at other table. At least he could look at him without having to turn away from his laptop—he was as shameless as that. He wasn't proud of it.

So all things considered, if he had to be honest with himself, Yixing realized—or more like accepted—that it was okay. It really was okay.

"It's fine," he said, shrugging to make it look as though he didn’t care. "You're free to sit here whenever you want."

That had been all Sehun had needed to continue sitting with Yixing every time he stepped on the café.

And so another month went by in that fashion—Sehun still coincided all his visits with Yixing’s. Yixing still glanced at him and Sehun still glanced back. Sehun sometimes offered him small smiles that Yixing never returned, even if he wanted to. They made each other company when they were working, even if Yixing refused to acknowledge it as such. Sehun still looked as handsome as always. Yixing still freaked out about it because God, wasn’t it unnerving?!

They still weren’t on speaking terms, though. No more than the few polite words of greetings and farewells, anyway. They were a pair of strangers sharing a table at their favorite café and that was all about it.

That, however, didn’t prevent Yixing from being intrigued about Sehun’s bunch of papers. More often than not, he tried to look at it and decipher what he was writing, but he never got it. The fact that there were two different styles of handwriting—one in red, the other in blue—didn't lessen his intrigue. He spent a whole week trying to catch a glimpse of it; to understand what that even said. He would’ve spent his whole life guessing hadn’t Sehun caught him squinting at the papers.

“It’s a script,” Sehun said, as though he had read the question in Yixing’s head. “From a book.”

Oh… So he was writing a book?

“I’m not writing a book.”

Yixing raised an eyebrow, eying warily at Sehun. “It’s not polite to read people’s minds.”

Sehun chuckled and Yixing’s heart did a weird jump. He ignored it and took his cup. He frowned at it; the coffee was already cold.

“A lot of people have asked me and that’s the automatic reply, sorry. But I'm an editor, so… yes. Scripts.” Sehun shook in the air the sheets he was reading, emphasizing his words.

“That’s why you’re always writing? Because you’re… editing?”

“Basically, yeah.”

Yixing glanced down at the red-inked words Sehun had written down the blue ones. “And isn’t it tiring to do it by hand?”

"Oh, definitely! But Jongin prefers it this way." Sehun rolled his eyes, a smile dancing on the corner of his lips. Yixing raised his eyebrows—who the hell was Jongin? “Says it helps him get inspiration and I'm not one to question him. I only follow his lead."

Alright, so this Jongin guy had to be an author. But was he, like, important to Sehun? Maybe he was his friend? His brother? His… something? Not that Yixing cared or anything, but he needed context. Just to, you know, understand better the story Sehun was telling him—if that was even a story, to begin with.

“Interesting," he said.

“Is it?"

Yixing only shrugged.

Sehun pursed his lips into a thin line, suppressing his smile. He busied himself in taking a sip of his bubble tea and when he put it down, he asked, “What about you? I've seen you with a camera a few times, but you're almost always on your laptop. Are you some sort of paparazzi?"

Yixing made a funny face and shook his head. "Definitely not."

"Photographer, then?"

Yixing pondered for a moment whether to confirm it or not. They had never talked this much and this wasn't a banal chat about packed places and no available seats. They were now on a boat, sailing on a sea full of get-to-know-each-other questions. Yixing wanted to jump overboard. Because staying would mean to give Sehun access to those bits of his life, and he didn't know if he wanted to. If he would like to let Sehun know who he was—to let himself know who Sehun was. But jumping would mean to let himself float aimlessly, too; maybe even drown. He didn't want to float. Or to drown.

"Photographer, yes," he said.

Sehun hummed, tapping his pen on the table. "A good one?"

"The best, actually."

"And humble, too. Noted."

Yixing couldn’t help but snort. This was ridiculous. In a good way, he guessed, but ridiculous, nonetheless.

"Do you think I could see your work one day?" Sehun asked.

"I don't know… Could you?"

The smile Sehun offered him left Yixing awestruck. It wasn’t a full, toothy smile, but a simple turn of his lips; enough to cause a huge change on the way Sehun’s face looked like. It made him wonder whether he could make him smile more often. He wasn’t going to discover it, of course, but it didn’t stop him from wondering, anyway.

"Let's add sarcastic to the list," Sehun said and Yixing could only provide a huff in response.

From that day on, their status changed to on-speaking terms. Now not only did they sit together, but they talked. A lot. For someone who had felt distressed about having Sehun this near, Yixing realized that talking to him was easy. The conversation flowed without a problem between them. It was enjoyable, and he found himself regretting not having done it way before.

They began with small things. Like weather, exchange rates or the amount of people that walked daily in the café. But then their common topics changed to more personal ones. Like preferences in music, movies, food. Traveling adventures, stories about their jobs, school, friends, family…

That's how Yixing discovered that Sehun was 25 and had graduated almost a year ago. He had majored in Linguistics and was working at his family’s small publishing house. They helped small writers in publishing their works. That’s how Kim Jongin, a promising writer and Sehun's best friend, became his first official editor gig.

He also learned that Sehun lived in an apartment on the other side of the city—”Don’t you have coffee shops there?” Yixing had asked. “We don't have this one there,” Sehun had said—with a little white bichon named Vivi.

Sehun had a sweet tooth and he didn't like coffee—"What about the coffee you sometimes buy?" Yixing had asked. "It's for Jongin," Sehun had said.

He liked to swim, although he had learned not so long ago.

He had dyed his hair an innumerable amount of times and colors during his adolescence—"You'll be bald one day," Yixing had said. "It's okay. I'll still have a handsome face," Sehun had replied. 'Yes. Yes, you will,' Yixing had thought.

He had grown up in Seoul with his parents and his brother.

He had never traveled abroad, but knew South Korea like the palm of his hand.

He had learned Chinese when he was in high school and had been pretty good at it—"Don't be mean! I'm out of practice!" Sehun had said when Yixing began speaking to him in Chinese.

He got his first car when he turned 19 and crashed it one week later.

He had learned to write and read when he was two—"You're like a prodigy," Yixing had said. "I'm more like a kid with a pair of obsessive editor parents," Sehun had mumbled, with a faint blush in his cheeks.

Things like those, and many, many more, became part of Yixing's knowledge. He wouldn’t say he was a Sehun expert and he was sure that all that information would never be useful for him. But he would be lying if he said that it hadn’t been fascinating. He had got the chance to know a lot of details behind the person Sehun was; to give him a background story. But as much as he had found it nice, he still couldn’t let himself stop worrying about his own well-being.

There was a before and an after in his life, with that stormy day as the starting point. During four months, Sehun had been a stranger. On month number five, he became the guy who sat with him. And now, six months after that day—yes, Yixing was counting; he couldn't deny it anymore—Sehun was a person he actually knew. It was terrifying. And confusing. And frustrating. More than once he arrived to the café determined to put an end to whatever they were doing. But then Sehun walked in, smiling at him, making his stomach churn, and every intention to get rid of him flew away.

It was embarrassing, really. How he seemed to be under no control of anything when it came to Sehun. How he was standing on a very thin line and apparently had been ever since that first day. How he knew he was playing with fire and yet he couldn’t make himself stop. He could only hope he was fast enough—to get way before it was too late. To escape before he ended up burning himself.

☕

"You can't be serious."

"I am very serious."

The disbelief in Sehun's face was more than enough to make Yixing want to laugh, but he didn't. He was going to keep his neutral face for as long as he could, only to see how Sehun would react.

He didn't even know what had made them come to this exact point. But they had been arguing for over half an hour about the mythical Trojan War and Homer's Iliad. Specifically, about how ridiculous it was—those had been Yixing's words. Then Sehun threw them into a debate about how and why it was not ridiculous.

"There's no way both armies were the bad guys!" Sehun shook his head, with an ugly frown between his eyebrows. "That's not even possible."

"But it is," Yixing said, placing his hands on top of his long-ago closed laptop. "Look at it like this. On Greeks' side, Agamemnon only used Helen's capture as an excuse to invade Troy. Menelaus was the husband, yet he was always under his brother’s saying, like everyone else."

"Not Achilles," Sehun said.

"Not Achilles," Yixing repeated, nodding. "But still. That army had begun the war mostly because Agamemnon wanted to conquer Troy. City that, as far as I remember, had done nothing wrong until that moment. Which leads me to the Trojan side. They were at fault, too, for defending Paris."

"Of course they did. Paris was their prince."

"Yeah, but he stole"—Yixing made quotation marks in the air—"Helen. Granted, she wasn't Menelaus property, but you don't steal someone else's wife." He stopped for a moment, and added, "Actually, you don't steal someone else's nothing. You don't steal. Full stop.

"Trojans did nothing about it. That makes them responsible of the war, too. What makes them all ridiculous is that, in the end, both armies were fighting for power and eternal glory. Helen’s kidnapping was completely in oblivion."

Sehun squinted at him, deep in thought. The disbelief in his face was still there, for he couldn't believe Yixing had insulted one of the Big Classics. This was far more amusing than Yixing had ever thought it could be.

"I think I get where you're going with that," Sehun finally said. "But I still stand with Trojans having something better to fight for."

"Did they, really?" Yixing asked, crossing his arms. "As which?"

"As love."

"Love?"

"And loyalty. They were, in some way, better people." Sehun leaned on the table, pushing aside the script he was reading. “Hector, for example. He was honorable and always respected his foes. Priam was a king who lost everyone and everything to the war. Yet he still humiliated himself to claim his son's body back. And Paris! He was only a guy in love! You can't deny they were the better ones!"

Yixing scoffed. "Paris wasn't in love. He was a capricious princeling who wanted to have the woman who was named the most beautiful only for him. And even if he had been in love, indeed, she was already married. He shouldn't have eloped with her, in the first place."

"Okay, yeah,” Sehun said and rolled his eyes. “The way they did things wasn't the best, but Paris didn't steal Helen. She went with him on her own free will."

"Really? Did she tell you so the last time you met her?" Yixing teased.

Sehun's mouth dropped and his frown deepened, looking completely offended. "Oh, fuck you!"

Yixing's eyebrows shot up to the sky and Sehun immediately widened his eyes. There was a moment of silence before they both burst into laughter.

If there was something more ridiculous than the Trojan War, it certainly was their current situation. This was some sort of development in the whatever they had, Yixing was almost certain of it. That they talked and sat together didn’t mean they were friends. Not even acquaintances felt adequate enough to explain what they were. But this—the sarcastic remarks. The meaningless insults. The easiness of their chat, as though they had known each other for years… It felt like giving a huge step in some sort of direction, whichever it even was.

Yixing gasped, his lungs complaining about the lack of air. His eyes filled with tears and his abdominal muscles ached from the effort. He tried to go back to normal, but he failed whenever his gaze landed on Sehun. The eyes of the rest of the customers were on them, but he couldn’t care. Sehun was smiling and laughing his heart out. Looking at such scene was something Yixing didn’t indulge himself with that often.

It had been not so long ago that he had seen Sehun’s full grin for the very first time—all teeth and crescent-moon shaped eyes. And boy hadn’t that had a full impact on him. He had been lost at words and Sehun had even asked if he was alright—he had been not. For a moment it had felt like his eyes were like a camera that had zoomed in Sehun, ignoring everything else around. Ever since, whenever Sehun smiled at him like that, he felt like he needed to photograph the image. And maybe he would. One day.

When their laughter died down, Yixing gave a long, contented sigh.

"You take the Trojan War pretty seriously, don't you?" he said, leaning back on the table.

"I'm so sorry," Sehun mumbled with a sheepish smile now on his lips. "I like Greek mythology, but I never get to talk about it. People say I get too invested. So. Yeah. It’s kind of like you opened Pandora’s Box. I didn’t mean to snap, I’m sorry.”

Alright, so Sehun was a Greek-mythology nerd. Got it. Something else to add to his ‘All Things Sehun’ list.

“Don’t worry about it, really,” Yixing said. “That was fun.”

For the first time in months, he beamed at Sehun, intentionally allowing himself to show him his real smile. On a normal basis, he preferred not to do it so openly. He kept his smiles at bay. Not doing so would be like putting down another of his walls. He had already put down way too many by letting Sehun get so close, so he couldn't risk it. But right now things seemed easier. As though now he could let himself smile at Sehun without feeling vulnerable. But that freedom disappeared almost immediately, because Sehun was staring at him, with something shining in his eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher.

“What is it?” he slowly, almost warily asked.

“Nothing…” Sehun said, still as if in a trance. “Nothing, it’s just… You’re smiling.” He stared at Yixing for a bit more before he shook his head and glanced away.

Yixing was about to ask him what he meant when Sehun’s phone buzzed. Sehun read the text and began packing his things, not before making a face at the screen.

"I gotta go. I'm late to meeting Jongin,” he said as he stood up. “But thanks. I really enjoyed… this.”

“Yeah, I…” Yixing couldn’t stand Sehun’s eyes on him, so he looked out the window for a brief moment, before going back to him. “It was nice.”

Sehun nodded and arranged the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Or later.“

“Tomorrow,” Yixing said and Sehun’s small smile reappeared.

“See you tomorrow, then.” Sehun didn’t move. He looked like he wanted to say something else. Yixing saw the moment when he decided to go for it, for his eyes reflected some sort of resolving he hadn’t seen there before. He couldn’t think much of it, because Sehun then added, “You’ve got a beautiful smile, you know? You should let us see it more often.”

It all happened so fast that when Yixing felt the need to breathe again—because, oh, surprise! Breathing was a natural necessity, and for some reason he had been holding on his breath—Sehun was out the café, leaving him in a state of utter astonishment.

What the hell had that been?

Had the comment come from somebody else, would’ve he considered it as flirting. But it had come from Sehun and there was no way he had said it with that intention. Sehun was nice and kind and liked to say good things and it was impossible, wasn’t it? It was. Yes, it was.

Dammit.

Dammit.

Leaning on the table, he placed his forehead on his arms and closed his eyes. He was sure that he was going to have a headache soon. All this situation stressed him. He only wanted time to go back to when he didn’t know anything about Sehun’s existence.

“Why are you brooding?”

Yixing groaned, begin to whoever was listening above to have some mercy on him.

“Go back to the counter, Kim,” he said when he straightened. Jongdae was standing next to him, wearing an amused smile that made him cringe. He was done with everything smiles-related.

“Why am I not getting the same treatment as Sehun?” Jongdae sat in front of him, occupying Sehun’s chair. “You were all laughs and smiles just now. Don’t I get a bit of that, too?”

Yixing wrinkled his nose, not liking where this conversation was going. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“Don’t play fool with me. You do know."

“I don’t.”

Okay, so he did know and he was playing fool, but he wasn’t going to have this conversation. Again.

Jongdae smirked, crossing his arms. “Are you seriously going to pretend you didn't flirt with Sehun all day?”

Yixing hissed, looking around. No one was paying them attention, but still. "I wasn't flirting!”

Jongdae groaned and leaned back on the chair. "There’s nothing wrong with admitting that you have a crush on him.”

“But I don't!” Yixing repeated. At that moment the urge to assure it to Jongdae and anyone who might be listening was very, very present.

“God, Yixing!” Jongdae whined, throwing his head back. “You have heart eyes whenever he's on your sight!"

“Shut up! Don’t be delirious!"

“And you don’t be immature. Why can’t you handle your crush like a big boy? You would make things easier for everyone; mainly for you.”

“But—”

“If you’re going to tell me you don’t like him, then please save it. I don’t want to hear it.” Jongdae waved one hand in the air, while the other reached out to take Yixing’s empty cup. “Just keep in mind that Sehun won’t wait for you forever. If you don’t do anything about this no-crush of yours, you’re going to miss your chance.”

And with that, he stood up and moved back to the counter.

Well, that had been short. Thankfully.

Annoyed, Yixing put all his things inside his backpack and left the café. He wanted to get home as soon as possible.

The streets were pretty calm. Almost no one was walking around, since the weather had finally cooled. Yixing loved to feel the wind on his face and have it messing with his hair. That was exactly what was happening. He would've enjoyed it, had his mind been with him and not back at the café, replaying Jongdae's words.

"Sehun won’t wait for you forever."

Was Sehun waiting for him? What was he waiting him for, to begin with? Where had Jongdae even got that assumption from? He had to be wrong. He was wrong. He was completely confused.

Yixing's heart was hammering in his ears and his stomach was in his throat. The possibility of Sehun liking him was overwhelming. More than he ever thought might be possible. But as much as Jongdae swore that it was true, Yixing couldn’t share that same confidence.

For as long as they had been sharing the table, they had never talked about their love lives, not even once. Though as far as he knew, Sehun was single. He had never mentioned someone with a romantic connotation. That didn’t necessarily mean that he wasn’t in a relationship, he knew it. But it didn’t mean either that he was interested in him—or in boys, for that matter. He still didn’t know anything about that.

But then again, as stupid as it had sounded, Jongdae had said that his 'gaydar' was broken. What did Jongdae know that he didn't? Was he missing something? He wasn't the most perceptive one, but he wasn’t oblivious, either. He always realized when someone tried to hit on him. So had Sehun tried something, he for sure would've noticed. That was why he doubted that Jongdae was right. There was no way Sehun liked him in that way.

At the thought, his heart gave a pang inside his ribcage. He tried to ignore it, but it was to no avail. There was no point. He was disappointed; more than he would ever admit out loud. He had been brushing it off, for months, but he couldn’t keep on lying to himself. Not anymore. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what it meant. He had gone through something similar many times before. So yeah. Coming to think of it, there was a small, mini, tiny possibility that he did have an insignificant, ridiculous, annoying crush on Sehun and—

Yixing stopped on his tracks.

Fucking hell.

He was screwed.

☕

The little bell at the door twinkled, announcing his arrival. Yixing came in, feeling like an intruder. Two weeks had passed since the last time he had stepped in there, but it felt like it had been two months, instead.

He scanned the place. The afternoon was cool enough for people to want to have a warm drink, so almost every table was occupied. His eyes followed all the way toward his table and he found a pair of brown eyes staring at him.

His heart gave a jump.

Sehun sent him a small wave of his hand and Yixing hesitated for a moment—oh, fuck it. He walked toward the table, with a soft smile on his lips, praying his brain wouldn’t make him act like a dumb, as always.

To say he wasn’t nervous was an understatement. After having discovered—or confirmed, accepted, admitted, whatever—that he had a crush on Sehun, he had decided he would keep himself away for a while. He needed time to let the information sink; to let himself get used to it. So he had avoided the café like the plague. At first he had felt guilty, because he had told Sehun that they would see each other the next day. Obviously they hadn't. But he hadn’t been ready to face him that soon. That was why he hadn’t gone back. He still wasn't ready, but he had concluded that he would never be, so. Here he was.

“Hello, Trojan boy.”

Sehun let out a small breathless laugh, while his fingers were busy playing with his pen. “I thought Jongdae was lying, but I can see you're still alive, indeed."

That was another thing that had prevented Yixing from coming sooner. Jongdae had gone to check on him to his apartment several times. “To make sure you haven’t died,” had been his excuse, but Yixing knew that wasn't entirely the truth.

"Sehun's been asking for you, you know?" Jongdae had said the third time he showed up. "What should I tell him?"

"Why should you tell him something?"

"Fine. I'll tell him you're still alive."

He hadn't pressed the crush-no-crush issue again, but Yixing knew that he already had an idea of what was going on.

"Yeah, I… Yes,” Yixing said now. He was standing next to Sehun, not knowing what else to say. The last time they had seen each other, things had gone pretty fine. So, so fine. But it had been bold of him to assume that nothing would change, hadn't it?

He cleared his throat, ready to speak. He still wanted to try. It would be a shame to lose the whatever they had, crush-no-crush issue apart.

“Look, Yixing," Sehun started, beating him to speak. "About what I said the other day. If I made you feel uncomfortable or something, I—”

“Are you busy?”

The words were out of Yixing's mouth before he had time to think the idea through. He knew it was rude to interrupt people who weren’t Jongdae, but he didn't want Sehun to continue. He didn't want him to think that he had done something wrong. Because he hadn't—except ruining his plans, but that was beyond the point.

"Uh…" Sehun frowned. “What?"

"I've got a photoshoot scheduled today. Do you want to come?”

Sehun raised his eyebrows, confusion overtaking his face. “For real?”

Yixing nodded, hoping his nervousness wasn’t showing. He was aware of this being a random, and honestly, pretty shitty idea. He didn't find anything amusing in inviting Sehun to sit and wait as he took pictures. But he felt that he had to make it up to him for having disappeared for so long. It wasn’t like Sehun cared, but more like Yixing felt bad for making him think that he was at fault for his absence.

"Okay," Sehun mumbled.

"Okay," Yixing repeated. "Cool."

Without saying anything else, Sehun packed his things. Yixing moved to the counter to order. Apparently Jongdae wasn't there, which was a relief. He wouldn't hear the end of it if the man saw what was about to happen.

When his coffee was ready, Sehun was already waiting for him at the door. They walked out, heading toward his car.

“Where are we going?” Sehun asked once they were on their way.

“Hangang Park,” Yixing said. "Only this month, I've been there seven times."

"Only this month? Do you go often?"

"I get at least one photoshoot per month there. Seems to be everyone's favorite location."

Sehun hummed in agreement. "It's a pretty place. Who are you photographing?"

"A lady with her dog."

"Pet photoshoot," Sehun said, scrunching his nose up. "Isn’t it hard?"

Yixing shrugged. "Depends on the owner. Pets behave like pets, but they get crazed because their owners don't relax."

"Sounds like humans are worse than pets."

"Trust me, they are." Yixing glanced briefly at Sehun and offered him a small smile.

Sehun looked surprised, but he immediately smiled back—and just like that, everything was back to normal.

When they arrived, they sat on a bench and waited for the lady—and her dog—to arrive, too. In the meantime, they caught up about everything they've done.

Sehun hadn't done much. He had spent his two weeks revising scripts and drinking bubble tea. Yixing already knew that. Jongdae had let this information slip whenever he went to his apartment. He didn't mind listening this from Sehun's own voice, though.

As for him, he told Sehun that he had had three photoshoots and had checked tons and tons of photos. Which wasn't a lie. He had been busy, though not enough not to be able to go to the café—but Sehun would never know this, of course.

Eventually the lady and her Cocker Spaniel puppy appeared and Yixing got down to work. He busied himself in making magic with his camera and keeping a professional face. Although it was hard. He felt like laughing every time the lady lost her cool over the puppy playing around.

Sehun, on the other hand, stayed on the bench. He didn't interrupt at all, if only to laugh whenever the puppy ran away to follow kids. He even took his script out and tried to get some pages done, but Yixing wasn't sure if he had succeeded. Whenever he sneaked a glance at him, he found Sehun already looking at him with an amused smile on his face. He tried to act nonchalant about it. Even when the stupid jumps of his heart became annoying and constant.

By the time the lady and the puppy were gone, the sky already had a faint orange color. Yixing turned to where Sehun was sitting, and found him finally reading the script. Even after all these months, it was still impressive how handsome he was. Their surroundings only made the frame more ethereal to the eye. Yixing's hands itched to take one, two, twenty, sixty pictures. They always did, even if he had never been brave enough to do it.

But his day had been way too different than what he had expected. Given the good way things had developed, he had some sort of courage bubbling in his chest. He didn’t know where it was coming from, but it was still welcomed, nonetheless. So putting the camera in front of his face, Yixing let his fingers do their job. Soon enough he was capturing Sehun’s every movement. From the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, to how his fingers elegantly wrote whichever corrections he considered pertinent. He moved closer, until he had Sehun so close that it was impossible for him not to hear the click of the camera.

Sure thing, Yixing pressed the button one last time and Sehun glanced up from his papers. He looked confused for a moment, before frowning with a smile dancing on his lips.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to photograph the Hangang river, but you’re getting in the way,” Yixing said. “Move.”

“No. This is a free space.” Sehun raised his arms as if trying to cover the sight from the camera.

Yixing put his camera down and glared at him. Sehun threw him a blinding smile and he regretted having put the device down.

"What now?" Sehun asked.

Yixing thought about it for a moment. He was hungry and maybe Sehun was, too. He wanted to go home, but honestly, he still didn't want to let Sehun go. What were the possibilities of something going wrong if he indulged himself with this little thing? Nothing could be worse than having a crush on Sehun—not because of Sehun, but having a crush in general. He hated it as much as he did a year ago. He was against it as much as he did a year ago.

“Does pizza sound good?” he asked before he could talk himself out of the idea.

“Pizza sounds perfect.”

They got all their things back to the car and Yixing drove them to an Italian restaurant a few blocks away from the café. They ordered and took a seat at a table next to the window. It was their thing to claim tables with that characteristic, it seemed.

"How much will it take you to get all the pictures done?" Sehun asked.

"I'll probably have many with a blurry puppy. So maybe two or three days," Yixing said, making a face. "I only hope I got enough good pictures to deliver."

"But you said you’re the best photographer. Surely you have a lot of good ones to pick up from.”

Yixing snorted and shook his head. “Even us the best ones have bad days.”

Sehun tilted his head, squinting at him. “So you’re having a bad day?”

Lying was a good option not to show what Yixing was actually feeling. To play with Sehun so they could start joking again and forget the main point of the conversation. But there was no point in lying. He wasn't having a bad day.

"No. No, I'm not," he said, shaking his head. He looked away for a moment. He could only stand Sehun's look for so long. "What about you? Did you manage to do something with the script?"

Sehun chuckled. "Not really."

"Not even a little?"

"There were some distractions."

"Ah… Yes, the puppy was distracting."

Sehun smiled and glanced down. “Er… Yeah, it was.”

At that moment, the waiter came with their pizza, preventing them from saying anything else.

Yixing was starving, so he began eating and Sehun followed suit. Slice after slice, they kept their chat going back and forth. It was as though those two weeks had never happened. They were back on track and Yixing found himself smiling more than he had ever smiled in months.

Being with Sehun was easy, comfortable. Sehun’s presence didn't feel forced into his life. It felt natural, as though he should've always been there. Yixing attributed it to Sehun being easygoing. And maybe a little to his own insistence on keeping him near. He was still annoyed at having lost control after having stayed put for three years. But he was sure he would learn to deal with it. Or at least he hoped he would.

They ended up devouring two pizzas and a huge plate of pasta. By the time they finished, the moon had long since been up in the sky. It was time to go home.

“How’re you going back?” Yixing asked once they were standing on the street. The night was chilly and the wind was blowing softly. This time, compared to that afternoon from two weeks ago, he did enjoy it a little bit.

Sehun jerked his head to where the café was. “I left my car over there.”

Yixing looked in that direction. It wasn’t far. It wouldn’t take them long to arrive by foot. Maybe he could just— “I’ll walk with you.” Sehun tilted his head and Yixing cleared his throat. “If you want.”

The wind brushed Sehun’s bangs away from his forehead and he squinted at the sudden gust. “It’s getting cold. You should go home and warm yourself.”

Yixing stared for a few seconds before turning around to walk toward the café. Behind him, Sehun huffed a laugh, but didn’t refuse to follow him.

"Okay, this is going to be random," Sehun said when they were a block ahead. “But may I ask you something?"

“Shoot.”

“I think we've never talked about this before and I’ll totally understand if you don’t want to. But I was wondering… Are you…” Sehun hummed, as if thinking about how to phrase what he wanted to say. “Do you have… someone?”

Yixing raised an eyebrow. “Someone?”

“I mean… Are you…” Sehun let a few seconds pass, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Are you single?”

Yixing had never turned to look at someone as fast as he did at Sehun. Where was that question coming from? What was Sehun on about?

“Who wants to know?” His tone of voice was playful—thank God—and fortunately, it made Sehun laugh.

“I don’t know,” Sehun shrugged, lowering his head and fixing his eyes on the ground. “Take it as a general-culture question.”

Alright, so it was true that they had never talked about it. But while he was well aware of it, he hadn’t expected Sehun to have realized it, too. What was he supposed to say? How was someone expected to talk about these things with the person who happened to be their crush? This was a situation Yixing had never been on; not that he recalled. There was always a first for everything, but he was somewhat rusty—he had been on a three-year hiatus from all this circus, for God's sake. He guessed, however, that a good way of going back on track was to start with being honest.

“I'm single, yes. Been for over three years.”

“Really?” Sehun looked at him with his eyebrows raised. When Yixing nodded, he opened his mouth a few times, as if trying to find his words. He looked like a fish. “That’s… impressive.”

Yixing snorted and made a face. “Why?”

“You don’t look like someone who would stay single for that long.”

Yixing shrugged, looking up to the sky. There was no single cloud in there. "There are breakups that take time to overcome, I guess.”

Sehun didn’t add anything else and Yixing thought that he wouldn’t. What else was to say, anyway? But then, as they crossed the street, Sehun said, “I am, too. Single, I mean.”

This didn’t help Yixing’s heart. It pounded in his chest harder than it had been all day. His hands were clammy and he squeezed them into fists. He took in a discreet, deep breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth. He couldn’t lose his composure. He had kept it for months and he wouldn’t start losing it now.

“When was the last time you dated someone?” he asked.

Sehun pursed his lips, deep in thought. “A little bit over a year and a half.”

“Why didn’t it work?”

A smiled made its way to Sehun’s lips and Yixing thought he wouldn’t tell him. Sehun, however, gave a half shrug and said, “I’ve helped my parents correct scripts ever since I was in high school. I believe you already know this.”

Yixing nodded, but remained silent. Now that the topic had been brought out—and by Sehun himself, nonetheless—he didn’t want to miss his chance to clear some doubts without being obvious about it.

“Well,” Sehun continued, “I used to have a script always on my hands—I still do. Back then it was because it didn’t hurt to help with them, but now it’s partly because I want to and because I have to. It’s my job, after all. So taking that into account, it’s kind of hard to find someone who doesn’t think that you want to spend more time with a bunch of papers than with him.”

This perked Yixing's attention in a way he had never experienced before. His mouth went dry. His hands had gone numb. The cold air wasn't enough to cool the heat on his face. He knew he hadn't heard wrong. The word 'him' was echoing inside his head and he didn’t want to make it weird by saying something out of place. So naturally, what left his mouth was, “Him? As in… a guy?"

Sehun's face was priceless. He looked amused and confused and, Yixing wasn't sure, but for a very brief moment, even offended.

“Er… Yeah, 'him' as in a guy," Sehun said.

Yixing could swear he was listening to Jongdae’s voice in his head saying, “I told you so.” But he didn’t want to think about Jongdae. He didn’t want to think about anyone or anything. He felt sick. Maybe he was sick.

This simple revelation had changed everything—Sehun had dated a ‘him’ as in a guy. Sehun had dated a guy. Did that mean he liked guys? He definitely had to like guys. Yixing was a guy. Fuck.

He had avoided thinking about it ever since Jongdae had implied that he had a chance with Sehun. Mostly because he hadn’t wanted to delude himself. As long as he didn’t think about it, then there was no way for him to expect something to happen, even if Jongdae had been so sure about it being a possibility. Now he couldn't be so sure if he would be able not to think about it and dammit, this wasn't how he had planned his night to go.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm?” Yixing blinked, pulling back from his own mind. Sehun was frowning and he looked concerned.

“Is everything alright?” Sehun asked again. “Even with this terrible lighting, you look pale.”

Oh, he had no idea… But Yixing wasn’t going to tell him this. Instead, he did what he did whenever he felt like changing the topic.

“I am pale,” he joked.

Sehun rolled his eyes, but a little smile appeared on his lips.

After this, none spoke again until Sehun came to a stop, pointing at his car. He fumbled in his jacket for his keys, and Yixing stood aside. The café was visible from there and it was still open. Maybe he could go see Jongdae. The sound of Sehun’s keys made him look back at him.

“So…” Sehun drawled, as he played with the keys. “Would you like me to take you back to your car?”

Yixing looked back to where they had come from. He considered accepting, but he needed to clear his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll walk.”

“Okay…” Sehun nodded. His eyes were shiny with the lights inside the stores on the street. They had never looked more beautiful. “Yeah. Okay. So, thank you,” he said, still fiddling with the keys. “For inviting me to the photoshoot. And for the dinner. It was fun.”

“Thank you for coming.” Yixing shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “And also, sorry for disappearing.”

Sehun snickered and his eyes made that crescent-moon shape that made Yixing act like a dumb. “Don’t do that again, alright? It was weird not to have you around.”

He was looking expectantly at him, as if waiting for something. But Yixing couldn't do anything to fulfill those expectations. He was busier trying to steady his breathing. Sehun didn’t take his eyes off him and he wanted to turn around and walk away. He didn’t, because he couldn’t. It was as though something was preventing him from moving.

Apparently that something wasn’t stopping Sehun.

Without doubting, he leaned in and placed a small kiss on Yixing’s cheek as a goodbye.

Yixing gasped when his cold lips landed on his cheek but the feeling was gone as soon as it had started.

What happened after that was blurry to him—he wasn’t sure if Sehun had wished him good night. If a small smile had been his answer to it. If Sehun had smiled back, climbed in his car and left him flabbergasted. If he had walked back to his own car with a stupid expression on his face. Or if he had gone home feeling like a teenager once again.

What wasn’t blurry, though, was the fact that after that day, everything changed for them.

They still talked a lot, about everything and anything. But there was some sort of complicity to it that hadn’t been there before. Yixing loved it—even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. Sehun stopped sitting in front of him and took the seat next to him, instead. They exchanged phone numbers. They began hanging out in other places besides the café. They went to the movies, museums, parks, libraries, restaurants. Sehun visited his apartment. He visited Sehun’s apartment. He met Vivi. Sehun sometimes went with him to his photoshoots. Yixing sometimes went with Sehun to the publishing house—that’s how he met Jongin, too. And man, hadn’t it been an interesting experience.

That day they had been hanging around in Sehun’s office, doing nothing of importance. Sehun was replying to some emails. Yixing was taking photos of him. Now he was comfortable enough to do it without fearing Sehun might think he was a creep. So far it had been an uneventful day, until a grown-ass man stormed in, whining like a kid.

"Fucking fire fucking Byun!" the guy exclaimed, crashing face down on the little couch that Sehun had in his office. "I can't stand him!"

Yixing looked at Sehun and the latter only rolled his eyes.

"What's the reason this time?" Sehun asked, going back to type on his computer.

"He's mean! Do you know what he did?!"

"No, what?" Sehun’s tone was plain. Yixing stared at him with an amused smile on and Sehun smiled back, shaking his head.

"He said my book was shitty and he wouldn't do any marketing campaigns for it! That he would cancel the book’s release party!"

Sehun pursed his lips, trying not to laugh. Yixing wasn't that composed, though. A snort made its way out of his lips, making the other guy look up.

"Do you think it's funny, Oh?" He frowned at Sehun, then his eyes landed on Yixing and immediately went back to Sehun. "He's messing with my book! You don't mess with a writer's—" He stopped amid sentence, realizing there was a stranger in the office.

Yixing waved his hand, somewhat embarrassed for not controlling his laugh.

"Yixing," Sehun said, "this is Kim Jongin. My first official writer and whiny best friend."

Yixing was impressed. Jongin had tanned skin and soft, brown eyes. His hair was as dark as chocolate and it was a little disheveled on the front because of the couch. He still looked good, though. He was an attractive whiny man. What a weird combination.

“And you, Kim," Sehun continued, "meet Zhang Yixing. My… uh… coffee partner?"

Yixing would've paid more attention to this introduction, had Jongin not sprinted from the couch to look better at him.

“So you’re Yixing!” Jongin said, something flashing on his eyes at the mention of his name. “Nice to finally meet you! I thought you weren’t real. Sehun never stops talking about you, but he refused to introduce—”

“Okay! Okay! Thanks, Jongin!” Sehun interrupted, with his voice raising in an anxious shout. He refused to place his eyes somewhere near where Yixing was. “Did you finish your guest list? Have you already sent it?" he asked and Jongin made a face. “That’s what I thought. You should go do that. Now.”

Jongin frowned. "What's that attitude, you brat? I’m older than you.”

“So? I’m your editor. I’m the one in charge, basically," Sehun said, eyes on the screen again. "But I’m serious about the list. Baekhyun needs it to organize the release party that, mind you, he’s definitely not going to cancel. So go do it and send it as soon as possible."

“Fine.” Jongin rolled his eyes and stood up. He flashed Yixing a smile and said, “I'll add you to the list, too. Now that you're dating the brat and stuff."

"Out!" Sehun exclaimed, glaring at a snickering Jongin who ran out the office before anything else could happen.

After that, Yixing saw Jongin a few other times. He found his presence entertaining. Even more when he told stories about his and Sehun’s misadventures as teenagers. What he didn’t like that much was the teasing. Jongin never failed to mention, at least once, his apparent dating-Sehun status.

Every time it happened, Yixing pretended not to notice. As though his ribcage didn't suffer an earthquake of ridiculous thumps. And he hated it. He hated it so, so much. Because they weren't dating. They were only hanging out. They had moved from being acquaintances to being friends. Yixing now considered himself to have three and a half friends. So, sure, they were something now. But dating? Nah. That wasn't the case.

They were Sehun and Yixing.

They were Yixing and Sehun.

They were, until they weren't anymore…

Yixing could say that he didn't know what happened. That it had been a shocking surprise. But the truth was that he had, unconsciously in some way, known that it would all end like this.

It was a winter night, ten months after that stormy day, when everything went down to hell. Sehun had invited him to some art exhibition held by Kyungsoo, a friend of his. As far as Yixing remembered, everything had been fine. They talked and laughed, and shared their opinions about Kyungsoo’s and art in general. It had been quite an amazing afternoon.

When the exhibition was over, it was late. Yixing was starving, so the most natural thing had been to go to eat. Sehun had suggested to walk to a restaurant near Kyungsoo's gallery. Someplace with the best wonton soup in Seoul, according to him. Yixing hadn't been thrilled. Not because of the soup, but the walking. The night was windy and cold, so it sounded like an awful idea. But Sehun wanted to walk, so he didn't complain.

The gallery was located a couple of streets away from Cheonggyecheon, so they headed there and walked along the stream. They did it in silence, with the city, the water and the wind as the only sounds around them. That was something they did often. To walk in silence, enjoying each other's company. At first Yixing had been desperate to fill those silences, as not to bore Sehun. But as they hung out more and more, he came to realize that Sehun actually liked them. Eventually Yixing grew fond of them, too.

The stream was almost empty, with a few people here and there. The wind was blowing directly on them. Yixing shivered, hugging his coat to his body, and cursed his terrible life choices. This coat was one of his favorites. Long, elegant, made of wool. It made him look good, but warmed him… not that much. He hadn't considered, though, that he would end up walking around Seoul under such conditions.

Sehun, on his part, looked as peaceful as he had been the whole afternoon. But how wouldn’t he? He was wearing a black puffer jacket that would look ridiculous on anyone but him. Somehow he still managed to pull it off, but it wasn’t a surprise. Yixing had long since got used to the man’s natural good looks—and was still as unnerved as the first time.

They walked through a bridge across the stream and another stiff wind blew strong. Yixing didn’t know how to cover himself. He was seriously considering asking Sehun to get on a taxi or to go back and retrieve one of either’s car. But Sehun was thinking something different. He took Yixing by the wrist and stepped aside next to the railing, avoiding getting in other people’s way.

“What are you doing?” Yixing asked.

“Take my jacket,” Sehun said, already opening his jacket’s zipper.

“What?”

“Take my jacket. You’re freezing.”

Yixing stared at him wide eyed. He stood there, like an idiot. Sehun had a thinner jacket under the puffer one, so he would most likely be protected from the cold. That didn’t mean, though, that Yixing was okay with leaving him without the puffer one.

“I don’t think you need to do that,” he said.

Sehun ignored him. He shook the jacket in front of him, holding it so he could put it on. “Come on.” He smiled down at Yixing and that was it for him to do as he was told. “Better?”

Yixing nodded once he was perfectly tucked. He was sure as hell he looked ridiculous—he wasn’t Sehun, dammit—but the garment was warm and smelled like Sehun’s cologne. He couldn’t care less about his own image.

Giving him a small smile, Sehun leaned on the railing and looked up to the sky. “I like when the night’s like this,” he said. “Cloudless. Can see the stars this way.”

Yixing stood close to him, pressing himself lightly against him so he could share his warmth with him. He looked up, too, admiring the scattered shiny points in the sky. The night was cloudless, indeed, but it was still beautiful. His fingers itched to have a camera to click on.

“Have you ever thought about how amazing the universe is?” Sehun asked, somehow out of topic. “Millions and millions of secrets we don’t know. Things that we’ll never get to discover. And compared to that, we’re so small. Insignificant, even.”

Yixing frowned and glanced down back at Sehun.

Where was that coming from?

Sehun had his eyes fixed on him. There was something shining on them. Something that Yixing was now used to see, but still hadn’t managed to decipher. It was that something he had seen when Sehun had complimented his smile. That something that was always there whenever he caught Sehun looking at him. That something that had made him nervous and still did, no matter how many times he had seen it before.

“But whenever I think of it,” Sehun continued, “I get reminded that, however insignificant we may be, I would still like to be proud of the life I’m living. I wouldn’t like to leave this world without having tried to fight and get what I want.”

Sehun was close; so, so close. Yixing couldn’t find it in himself to step back. He was completely lost in his eyes. In his perfect eyebrows and nose. In his high cheekbones and the small scar he had on his cheek. In the curve of his cupid’s bow and how soft his lips seemed. In how his hair danced around when the wind blew and how it fell on his forehead whenever it stopped. In how mesmerizing he was.

Yixing was far gone.

He was in that point of no return.

His crush wasn’t only a crush. He really, really liked Sehun.

“Do you remember the party Jongin told you? The one about his book?” Yixing could only manage a small nod and Sehun took in a deep breath. “It’s still a month away, but I was thinking that you should come with me. As my boyfriend.”

And then the bubble popped.

A slight frown appeared again between Yixing’s eyebrows when he registered Sehun’s words. His stomach positioned so fast in his throat that he feared he was going to throw up—his crush wasn’t only a crush. He really, really liked Sehun, but he hadn’t planned for it to be like that.

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I…” Sehun seemed embarrassed. That made it all worse. “I know this isn’t romantic, but we’ve been dating for a couple of months and… I don’t know. I felt like this was the right moment to ask you.”

Yixing gave a step back, slowly shaking his head. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. He didn’t want this to happen. One thing was for him to acknowledge whatever it was he was feeling, but another one was to accept to go with it. To let himself swim in those waters again—his crush wasn’t only a crush. He really, really liked Sehun, but he wasn’t ready for this.

“But… We’re not— We—” Yixing gave another step back. Sehun's puffer jacket wasn't warming him anymore and it had nothing to do with the weather. “We’re not dating."

Sehun stared at him, puzzled.

It was at that moment that Yixing understood. Why it seemed like Sehun didn’t mind Jongin’s teasing. Why he acted like it was okay. For him it was okay. For him they were dating. All those plans they had made, all those things they had done together. For Sehun had been dates.

Shit.

“I’m confused here,” Sehun said, getting his elbows off the railing. "What do you mean we're not dating?"

He frantically studied Yixing’s face, looking for an answer. He found none. Yixing saw the moment when realization hit him—whatever it was he had realized.

“So all the things we’ve been doing,” Sehun said. His stare was so intense that a ball appeared on Yixing’s throat, nauseating him. “If we are not dating, what are we doing, then?”

“I don’t know,” Yixing whispered. He didn’t trust his voice to sound okay if he tried to speak any louder. “We’re just hanging out.” He knew he sounded stupid. Like a complete asshole. It was the worse argument he could give, but nothing he could say would fix this. Fix them. Fix him.

Sehun raised his eyebrows. “Hanging out? Like a couple of teenagers?” He didn’t get a reply and he closed his eyes. He hung his head and raked a hand through his hair.

Yixing wanted to reach out and erase the disappointment and hurt from his face, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He could as much stare at him, doing his best not to let the ball in his throat choke him.

“It would’ve been fine, you know? If you didn’t like me." Sehun had a crease between his eyebrows and he refused to look at Yixing. “I would’ve handled being only your friend. There was no need to lead me on.”

He didn’t let Yixing say anything. He turned around and walked away, following the same path they had come from.

Yixing stood there, looking at his retreating back. He wanted to run after him. To stop him and explain himself. To let him know that he hadn’t leaded him on. That he did like him, but wasn’t ready to jump into a relationship—and would probably never be. But he was in shock and overwhelmed and scared, so he didn’t do any of those things.

He let Sehun go and as simple as that, it was over.

Sehun had slipped from his hands and he hadn’t done anything to stop it.

The next couple of weeks were kind of weird for him. He had photoshoots and meetings with potential clients. He worked with his laptop every day, with a warm latte next to him. He went to the café and tried to annoy Jongdae and photograph people in there. Everything was like always, and at the same time it wasn’t.

He pretended not to notice what the difference was. He tried to continue with his life as if nothing had happened, even when he wasn’t putting his heart to it. He hadn’t been expecting anything. After that disastrous night, he hadn’t been sure where they had been standing. It was like it hadn’t really sank in. But when Sehun didn’t appear the next day, nor the next after that one, nor a week later, realization that he had fucked it up hit him for real.

It had been stupid of him to think that they would go back to normal. It was obvious that Sehun wouldn’t go back. Why would he? He believed the worse of Yixing. He thought he had played with him and his feelings. The most logical thing to do was to keep his distance. To stay away from him. To disappear completely from his life—and Yixing didn’t blame him.

This, of course, didn't go unnoticed by Jongdae. He pestered him day and night with questions about Sehun. More than once he demanded to know what had happened. Jongdae argued that Sehun’s absence wasn’t just because—he wasn’t wrong, of course, but Yixing refused to explain anything. Not yet. He didn’t even know how to deal with it himself. He avoided it for as long as he could, but it was on a particular snowy day that luck decided not to be on his side.

Yixing was staring out the window, contemplating the snow accumulate on the street. He had been doing that for ten or fifty minutes, he didn’t know. He had lost track of time. But he came back to his senses when Jongdae pushed lightly his shoulder. He placed a new cup of coffee in front of him and sat next to him.

"Why are you brooding?"

Yixing felt a déjà vu. Jongdae had asked that same question a few months ago, hadn’t he? When Sehun had said the thing about his smile. It felt like it had happened centuries ago.

He shook his head. “I’m not.”

“You are. Been for two weeks.” Jongdae pushed Yixing’s shoulder again, this time with his own shoulder. “Come on, tell me what’s going on.”

Taking the cup of coffee, Yixing pondered whether to tell him or not. Not talking about it had been more tiring than he would ever admit out loud, but did he need to talk about it? He knew what Jongdae’s reaction would be. Was freeing himself worth dealing with his friend’s disapproval? The answer was yes. He needed to let it out. Bottling it all was suffocating him and he didn't know how long he would still bear it.

“There’s… There’s a small possibility that I fucked things up.” He held his cup, his eyes fixed in the coffee. “With Sehun.”

Jongdae frowned and stared at the table. He took a deep, silent breath as if preparing himself. "Okay…" he drawled. "And what exactly happened?"

Like an open faucet, words flooded out of Yixing without filter. He told him everything. Everything since he had seen Sehun for the first time. He told him his thoughts and how he had felt and every single detail he could remember.

Jongdae limited himself to nod and leave a few, "Uh-huh…" and "Ah…" here and there. As well as some questions to give himself context of the situation. But he never interrupted. When the tragic story was over, he placed his hands on the table. He interlaced his fingers, looking pensive. Yixing had expected a sarcastic comment or a shitty remark about how stupid he was. But those never came. Jongdae, instead, took his time to give it a good thought.

"Alright," Jongdae said after a few minutes of silence. "So. Basically, Sehun liked you and you acted all dumb and selfish not to get hurt, but ended up hurting him, instead. Am I right?"

Yixing wrinkled his nose. "Don't say it like that."

"But it was all in vain, because you ended up liking him, too, nonetheless."

“I… Yes.”

"You’re hopeless.”

Ah, there it was… The comment he was waiting for.

Yixing gave him a face but didn't say anything. He knew he was, anyway.

“Did you kiss?”

Yixing shook his head.

“God, how I wish Minseok were here." Jongdae closed his eyes and rubbed his face. "I'm shitty at this. You know that. But I'm going to try, okay? Just. Wait."

Yixing felt bad for giving him so much trouble. Jongdae was right. Among the three of them, Minseok was the best at handling emotions; the one who always knew what to say, how to act. He made you talk. Talk until there was nothing else to say. Until you felt light and better and confident that everything would be alright. Jongdae was different. He preferred to make you laugh. To make you have a good time, no matter how small. To assure you forgot your problems at least for a moment. But Minseok wasn't here and Jongdae knew that what Yixing needed, was to talk, not to laugh. He was making a good effort in dealing with it, and Yixing couldn't thank him enough for it.

"Okay, listen," Jongdae said. "You screwed it. Like. Seriously screwed it."

Yixing gaped at him, but immediately closed his mouth—Jongdae was trying. He was… well. He was trying.

"You screwed it, but"—Jongdae raised one finger pointing at Yixing—"Sehun likes you. Like. Seriously likes you."

"I don't think he's—"

"No. No. Shut up." Jongdae frowned and shook his head. "I'm done with your bullshit. The dude is head over heels for you. Accept it already. If you could only see the way he looks at you! It's so disgusting! And I love it!"

Yixing scrunched his face. Jongdae had gone mad. This heart-to-heart had been too much for him.

"That doesn't make sense," he said. “You don’t make sense.”

“I don’t care.” Jongdae shrugged. “I’ve been waiting for so long for someone to come and ruin your isolation plans! You’re young. You deserve to have fun and live an amazing life. Full of parties and friends and alcohol and sex. Lots of sex!” He flung his arms around and Yixing looked around, shushing him. “No, don’t shut me up,” Jongdae said. “I’m being serious. You deserve to fall in love. Once, twice… One million times! Give yourself the chance to love again! Nobody's supposed to stay alone for the rest of their lives."

With a shocked face, Yixing stared at him. Jongdae’s brain had stopped working and he was now talking nonsense. He had broken Jongdae down. Fucking hell.

"You should go and find yourself a girlfriend, then,” he said.

Jongdae waved his hand. "I can only focus on one potential relationship at a time."

“Sehun doesn’t even want to see me anymore.”

“You don’t know that.” Jongdae rolled his eyes. “You should go look for him. Confirm that he doesn’t want to see you. If he doesn’t, then that’s it. But if he does, well…”

The small possibility of getting Sehun back in his life had his heart thumping his chest. Yixing couldn't deny it. He missed it. Their chats. Their laughs. Their jokes. Their silences. Their everything… He missed Sehun. Jongdae had a point, but he was scared. Because there were two possible endings for this and if he didn’t get the one he was aiming for, it would be devastating. It was like a Russian roulette. He could give it a shot and maybe still be able to save their whatever. But there was also the chance for him to fuck things up even more.

He didn’t know what to do.

He could go to the publishing house or to Sehun’s apartment.

He could send him a text or call him.

He could leave a voicemail.

He could see Jongin and ask him, instead.

He could give up and leave him alone.

He could take Junmyeon’s offer. Date him and move on with his life—this one in particular danced around in his head for days. He considered asking Jongdae to tell Junmyeon he had, finally, said yes. But whenever he found the opportunity to ask him, he chickened out and ended up staying shut. Because Junmyeon was a good guy. Because he didn’t deserve to be treated as a second choice. Because he didn’t like him. And more important, because Junmyeon had already found someone else.

Like some sort of divine joke, a week after his heart-to-heart with Jongdae, Junmyeon appeared at the café. He looked the same as Yixing remembered. Handsome, elegant, all kind smiles and warm looks. Ethereal and perfect, in a nutshell. Not a surprise, really. The thing that did surprise him was to see that he hadn’t gone alone. Next to him was a tall guy, with a particular pair of ears and a big, huge, radiant smile. It didn’t took him long to realize that he wasn’t only a friend. The guy never stopped his soft touches at Junmyeon when they were at the counter talking to Jongdae and Junmyeon never stopped him.

Yixing considered fleeing the scene. He didn’t want to be in any awkward situation. But, as always, it took him too long to make a decision and Junmyeon caught him staring at them.

He never learned, did he? He hadn’t had enough with Sehun; now he was doing it with Junmyeon, too. Great. Amazing. What a good development. He wanted to smash his head on the table. He waved at Junmyeon, instead.

Junmyeon made his way toward the table, tall guy and Jongdae following suit.

“Yixing!” Junmyeon said, smiling down at him. “It’s so nice to see you! What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t been here in ages and it shows,” Jongdae chimed in. “He lives here now.”

“Why do you still put up with him?” Junmyeon asked, jerking his head toward Jongdae.

“I only speak to him for his coffee,” Yixing said and Junmyeon laughed.

“We’re also here, but go ahead.” Jongdae waved a hand in the air and rolled his eyes. “Take your time.”

At this, Junmyeon looked sheepishly at the tall guy, who smiled at him in return.

“Uh… Chanyeol, this is Yixing, one of Jongdae’s best friends,” Junmyeon said, standing closer to the guy. “And Yixing, this is Chanyeol, my boyfriend.”

“Ah! Yixing! Nice to meet you!" Chanyeol said, offering him one of those big smiles. Yixing was confused. Why did everyone have that reaction? “I've wanted to thank you for not dating Junmyeon, but the chance hadn’t presented before.”

Chanyeol stood there, all big smiles and natural charm, while Yixing and Junmyeon choked, and Jongdae burst into laughter.

What a particular way to meet someone.

When he recovered, Yixing asked them to take a seat.

That’s how he spent the afternoon catching up with Junmyeon and meeting Chanyeol. The latter in particular was a good discovery for him. He liked him. The guy was fun and chatty. Friendly, kind, easygoing. One look at them and anyone could see that he cared about Junmyeon. He made him happy—and that made Yixing happy, too. And relieved. Very, very relieved. He wasn’t self-centered, but knowing that Junmyeon had found someone who liked him back took a weigh off his shoulders.

Seeing Junmyeon and Chanyeol, however, was like a slap in the face. They looked in peace, at ease with each other, in love, happy. It only made him realize how much he missed feeling all those things at once. How much he wanted to have something like that again. He had had those things not so long ago and his heart clenched in his chest. He was tired of running away and being scared. He wanted to give himself another chance—another chance to bring down his walls. To love again. To be happy.

So as Jongdae whined because Junmyeon and Chanyeol kissed, Yixing decided that he was willing to try and get what he wanted—and he knew exactly where he would start.

☕

He wasn't supposed to be here and yet, here he was.

In front of Yixing, the publishing house stood majestic and breathtaking. Fully adorned with Christmas decorations and series of colored lights. It was intimidating.

He hadn’t received an invitation to Jongin’s book release party—obviously—so the details were unknown to him. The only thing he was sure of was the date, and only because Sehun had mentioned it several times before. That date had arrived.

He hadn’t known where to go first. He had assumed that a good place to start was at the publishing house. It had been a shot in the dark, but it seemed that this one time, things had gone as he had wanted. It was evident that there was an event going on there. The muffled noise coming from the inside was something to go for, at least.

After interacting with Junmyeon and Chanyeol, Yixing had spent the rest of his week thinking how he would do this. So far, he had come with a lame version of an apology and a humiliating—not less honest—confession of his feelings. He didn’t care. He made a speech and made sure to work on it. To grasp the essential points of it so he wouldn’t ruin it by saying something wrong. He was confident he had succeeded with that.

Now he only had to walk in, but that wasn't easy. He had a tornado happening in his stomach and something was obstructing his throat. He was nervous, but he was already here. He might as well man up and go ahead—and that was what he did.

One at a time, he climbed up the stairs. Before entering, he arranged the jacket of his suit. He felt like a clown. He wasn’t sure if the event required something that formal. But Jongdae had insisted.

He had said, “If Sehun doesn’t buy your apology, at least he’ll reconsider it by how good you’re going to look.”

That had been utter bullshit, but Yixing had accepted, anyway.

He pushed the door open, freeing the sound of soft music and the murmur of people talking. There was no one at the reception area. No receptionist. No security guards. That was ridiculous. Some stranger could go in without an invitation and go totally unnoticed—just like him (except he wasn’t a stranger. Not completely.) But as ridiculous as it was, it was convenient for him. Now he wouldn’t have to show his nonexistent invitation to anyone.

Once he passed the reception, he entered the lobby and he had to stop on his tracks.

On a normal day, the place was wide and elegant. With glass walls everywhere and minimalist lamps and decorations hanging out the ceilings. But the lobby had gone through some changes for the sake of the party. There were tables around, with pretty blue and white floral centerpieces. To the side, there was a huge table with various desserts and coffee. At the back was a dais. On the wall behind it, a projector was showing the book’s cover. The title and Jongin’s name written in an enormous, blue and elegant font were there, too. In one corner, a quartet was playing some music Yixing didn’t know. It was like entering a wedding reception. It looked beautiful. Baekhyun and his team had done an excellent job.

People there were all wearing suits or perfect, long dresses. He made a mental note to thank Jongdae later. But no matter how great his suit was, he felt completely out of place. He didn’t know anyone. How was he supposed to find Sehun like this? He didn’t have a plan. Not for this part.

To his luck—or misfortune—he didn't need to do anything. Behind him, someone tapped his shoulder. He turned around to find Kim Jongin himself. He was wearing a blue suit that combined with the flowers in the centerpieces. He looked handsome. And annoyed. Oops.

“Uh… Hey. Congratulations,” Yixing mumbled, offering a small smile. “For the book and the party. Everything looks good.”

“Thanks.” Jongin was frowning and that was an image Yixing hadn’t seen before. “How did you get in?”

“Ah… There’s no one at the reception.”

“That’s ridiculous. Someone without an invitation could walk in. Like you."

Yeah, Yixing's exact thoughts. He shoved his hands in the pocket of his pants and shrugged. “Isn't the security team supposed to be there 24/7?"

Jongin squinted at him. “What are you doing here?”

Okay, so he wasn’t up to small talk. Good to know. Straight to the point, then.

“I want to talk to Sehun.”

“You want to talk to Sehun.” Jongin sounded incredulous. “And you think I'll let that happen?"

No, he didn't. In fact, finding Jongin had been one of his worries. Yixing knew he was mad at him. He had to be. In his eyes, he had hurt his best friend. It was logical that he didn't find thrilling to see him there. Yixing feared he would kick him out or something.

"I know I’m not on your whitelist," Yixing said. "But I need to talk to him."

"No! Absolutely not!" Jongin shook his head. "Who do you think you are? After everything you did? Of course not! Just leave, Yixing. Or I'm going to call security."

"No. Wait. Listen." Yixing raised his hands in front of him. "I know you think I'm the bad guy. But trust me, I'm not. Not really. I never wanted to hurt him. That was never my intention."

"Who cares about that? Intentionally or not, you still did."

"And that's why I'm here. I want to fix it."

"You had your chance and took it for granted." Jongin crossed his arms, his frown never disappearing. "You should go and leave him alone."

"Jongin. Please." Yixing sounded pathetic. In any other situation, he would've cringed, but he was desperate. He could worry about his dignity later. "Let me talk to him. If he doesn't want to see me after that, I promise I'll leave and won't bother him again."

Jongin jutted his chin out but didn't say anything. He was most likely contemplating whether to agree with him or not. He was taking his time and Yixing wished he could hurry. But no matter how fast he wanted him to make a decision, he would still wait whatever it took. He wouldn't risk it.

"I always rooted for you, you know?" Jongin said. "I saw how happy he was and I was thankful he had found you. Now I look at him and…" He shook his head and sighed. "If I let you do this, do you promise you'll do your best not to hurt him again?"

Yixing didn’t have to think it twice. "You have my word."

Staring at him for another moment, Jongin jerked his head toward the back stairs. "He's at his office."

It was as though something had stopped squeezing Yixing's throat. He could breathe again. He was now one step closer.

"Thank you," he said. In a moment of audacity, he smiled, dimples included, and he only received a roll of eyes.

"Whatever. Just go." Jongin waved his hand and moved to walk past him. "And now that you’re at it, bring him downstairs, please."

Alright. Yes. Thank you.

Yixing walked down the lobby toward Sehun’s office, mentally preparing himself. He had got in and had succeeded in finding where Sehun was. Now he had to talk to him. Nothing could go wrong with that. He could do this. How hard could it be? He had spoken to him many times before. This wouldn’t be that different—except it was different. He was going to talk about his feelings and his regrets, and to Sehun, nonetheless. He had everything to win or to lose. And he had only this one chance. So alright… Technically, everything could go wrong. He was aware of it.

His heart was beating hard in his chest and his fingers were shaking. He tried to bend them, but his hands were numb. When had his hands gone numb? He took a deep breath and let it out through his mouth. He had to calm down.

Before he could do that, though, the door to Sehun’s office appeared in front of him. He didn’t remember the walk being this short, but he couldn’t trust his mind right now.

The shutters Sehun had there were down, preventing him from peeking at the inside. Collecting the confidence he still had somewhere inside him, he knocked. A muffled voice told him to come in and Yixing’s heart traveled to his throat. He hadn’t had the stomach to eat anything the whole day, and yet he was sure he was going to throw up. He cleared his throat a few times, trying to push down his heart to where it belonged. This wasn’t the moment to throw up.

Slowly, he pushed the door open. The light from the inside blinded him for a moment. When he got his sight back, he found a pair of wide brown eyes staring at him.

One month.

One month without seeing those eyes and a few seconds were enough for everything to make sense again.

Sehun was sitting at the couch with his laptop on his lap. The jacket of his suit and his tie were tossed next to him, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows. His hair was perfectly combed, revealing his forehead. He looked handsome. He was handsome. God, he was stunning—and there Yixing was, standing at the door like an idiot.

What was he supposed to do now? Was it okay if he came in? Did he have to wait for Sehun to tell him to come in? He had already told him to come in, but that was before he knew it was Yixing. Was he still allowed to come in? Or did he have to leave?

Yixing hadn’t thought about this exact part, either, dammit.

His mind was spiraling out of control, his nerves making his skin itchy. This had been a bad idea. A terrible idea. He knew what he had come to do, but the things he was going to say, the speech he had prepared… everything was completely gone. He had a blank space in his mind. Great. How was he supposed to start now?

"What are you doing here?"

Right. That was how he was going to start, he guessed.

“Uh… May I come in?” Yixing asked, just in case.

Sehun’s eyes traveled all the way from Yixing to the place on the couch next to him. He contemplated it before going back to him. Yixing understood what he wanted—what he probably wanted—and walked in, closing the door behind him. He crossed the office and sat next to Sehun, leaving a good distance between them.

They looked at each other for a moment before Sehun cleared his throat.

“How did you get in?” he asked as he placed his laptop in the coffee table in front of them. “I thought Jongin hadn’t invited you.”

“He didn’t,” Yixing said. “I kind of sneaked in.”

Sehun eyed him warily. “Why?”

Okay. This was it. To win or to lose—to win, Yixing hoped.

“Because I wanted to talk to you.”

Sehun immediately hardened his face. "I don't want to talk to you."

"It's fine! Don't worry!” Yixing exclaimed, turning to face Sehun completely. Had they been fine, he would’ve joked telling him he was already talking to him. But he was on a thin line right now. There was no moment to joke. This was important. “You don't have to talk! Just listen, yeah?"

Sehun didn’t say anything and Yixing took it as a consent to speak.

"Alright, so… First I want to apologize. For everything. You didn’t deserve it and I… I’m sorry. Very, very sorry."

Sehun looked away and pressed his lips together. He really wasn’t going to talk, it seemed. It was okay. He was listening, so that was fine. It would have to make do.

“Now,” Yixing continued, “three years ago, the most serious relationship of my life was over. I won’t go into details because it doesn’t matter anymore. But back then, I was so heartbroken that I decided that I would never fall in love again.”

“Wait." Sehun closed his eyes and shook his head. "Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to understand. Ten months ago, it hadn’t been part of my plans to have… this.” Yixing waved his hand between them. “You weren’t part of my plans.”

Sehun frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that I wasn’t expecting you. I wasn’t expecting to care about you. To want to know you. To have the need of having you near. You changed everything, Sehun, and you have no idea how much that scared me.”

Sehun opened his mouth, but Yixing shook his head. The words were coming to him like a wave crashing into shore and he had to let them out.

"I've been feeling cautious for all this time because I didn't want to suffer again. For years I isolated myself and kept people away so I wouldn't get hurt. I had nothing precious beside my life. And my camera. And two and a half friends. And my family. And that was about it.

“But then you walked in the café that day. With your beautiful eyes. And hair stuck to your forehead. And those ridiculous and perfect broad shoulders and I… I didn't know it back then. Or more like I wanted to deny it back then. But I’ve liked you since day one.”

Sehun had slowly raised his eyebrows with every word and his mouth was now slightly open. He had that fish-like expression and Yixing wanted to reach out and caress his cheek—he didn’t. He still had a few things to say.

“You’re one in a million, you know?” he said, not looking away. “And I know that I fucked us up and don’t deserve your forgiveness. Because I had my chance and didn’t do anything to keep you with me. But I’ve learned my lesson and if you still let me. If you still want this. I would like to try. I want to do things right. For me. For you. For us. Just… Please just let me try.”

And that was it.

He had done it.

What he had to do now was wait.

Sehun was in silence. His eyes fixed somewhere on the floor, his leg bouncing. There was a deep, ugly frown between his eyebrows. His face didn't give away what he was thinking and Yixing didn’t know what to think of it. He had spoken his heart out but it wasn’t on him to decide if it had been enough. Sehun had all the power now, so he would let him think and take his time, no matter how long that was.

The music could be heard faintly in the distance, as though the party was happening anywhere but downstairs. Yixing wasn’t a music prodigy, but he could grasp the sound of a violin—or was it a violoncello? He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t identify them but it wasn’t as if he cared. The only reason he was focusing on the music was to calm himself down. Not getting a reaction from Sehun, either for good or for bad, was cracking his nerves up. Maybe he could look for the differences between a violin and a violoncello on his phone. It could help him distracting—

“It’s hard, isn’t it?

Yixing snapped his attention back to the office. Sehun was looking at him. The frown wasn’t there anymore, but he still looked deadly serious. It was an unusual look on him. He missed seeing Sehun smile and laugh and he would give anything to see that again.

“Love, I mean. It’s hard,” Sehun continued. “Once you’ve been hurt, the fear of getting attached again is always there. You fear that everyone you like is going to break your heart.”

Yixing had always struggled with making Jongdae and Minseok understand. Why he was still alone. Why he had preferred not to let people get close. He knew that nobody was exempt from having their heart broken. But he firmly believed that after having experienced it once, it was in everyone’s power to choose whether to let it happen again or not. Perhaps his problem had been that he hadn’t found the correct words to make it clear. But as he processed Sehun’s words, he thought that he couldn’t have phrased it better.

“So I guess that I get why you were scared,” Sehun added. “I won’t tell you that I understand, because I don’t. You’ve experienced things in a different way than me, so I’ll never know exactly what it was to you. But…” he slowly turned in the couch so he was sitting facing Yixing. “But you’ve kind of ruined life for me.”

Ah, wow… Lovely. Cool. That was… encouraging.

Yixing frowned and looked away.

“You ruined it because now I can’t go around without thinking about you at least once,” Sehun said and Yixing’s frown disappeared. “I miss you. I miss us. It’s been so fucking weird not to have you around. So I do… I want to let you try. And I want to try with you.”

Yixing couldn’t breathe. Had he heard right? He wasn’t sure. But the small smile that slowly crept up Sehun’s lips confirmed him that he had, in fact, heard right. He didn't move. He didn't blink. He didn't say anything. Sehun's words were dancing in his head, echoing in his mind and going straight to his heart. A warmth feeling flooded his chest and he felt like crying. Maybe he was crying.

“Come here." Sehun opened his arms and Yixing didn’t lose time.

He buried himself there and it was as if the air had been freed again. He could finally breathe. The pressure in his chest disappeared to give way to a peace he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So…” Sehun broke the silence after a while, mumbling against Yixing’s head. “You still have my jacket, right?”

Yixing nodded to Sehun’s neck. “I’ll give it back, don’t worry.”

Sehun hummed. “You can keep it and say it’s your boyfriend’s… If that’s okay.”

Yixing leaned back to look at him. The uncertainty on Sehun’s eyes was there and he didn’t like it. He wanted to erase it. To make his eyes sparkle and look happy again. He knew he had the power to do that. This time he was sure what he wanted to answer.

“It’s more than okay,” he said.

"You sure?"

Yixing didn’t think about replying. As in automatic, he cupped Sehun’s face and without missing a beat, he leaned in and crashed his lips into Sehun’s. He caressed Sehun’s cheek with one hand, while the other traveled all the way to the back of Sehun’s head, burying his fingers in his hair. He felt Sehun sneaking a hand around his waist. Pulling him closer and closer until there was no space between them.

There were no fireworks. No applause. No romantic background music. And yet it was perfect. More than Yixing could’ve ever asked for. Because it was real and it was theirs.

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed until their lips were sore and the air stopped being enough. And then they kissed again and again and again, as if intending to make up all the time they had lost.

At some point they had to take a good, long pause to recover and breathe. Their eyes finally opened and Sehun offered him the most gorgeous smile Yixing had ever seen. Any other time, he would’ve craved to have a camera so he could capture the image. But not this time. This was something only for his mind and his heart to remember.

Sighing, Yixing leaned back. He smiled and, unwillingly, whispered, “Come on, Trojan boy. Jongin wanted me to take you downstairs.”

He pressed a soft kiss to Sehun’s cheek and moved to stand. As much as he wanted to stay there, Jongin was probably waiting for them and he really wanted to go back to his whitelist. He needed to be on good terms with him. He was his boyfriend’s best friend, after all—holy shit, he was Sehun’s boyfriend.

But Sehun had different plans.

He only laughed and instead of letting him go, he secured his grip around Yixing’s waist and leaned forward once again.

Yixing didn’t stop him.

Their lips met and he let himself smile into the kiss. Because he had come to win or to lose, and this… this definitely felt like a win.

☕ 

EPILOGUE

Alright.

So.

He had to prepare a cup of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows for table three. Two americanos, both plain, for tables one and seven. A cappuccino without foam—that wasn’t a cappuccino, but alright! Whatever the client wanted—for table ten. And a macchiato with extra caramel for table four.

Jongdae had been busy the whole day. It was a particular rainy day that had everyone waltzing in and out the café. He wasn’t someone who complained too much about it, for it meant they were having a good-business day. He loved good-business days. But he hated being this busy. His two minions—or baristas, whatever—were working as hard as him. Yet the three of them still couldn’t keep up with so many people ordering.

It was okay, though. They had gone through worse.

He decided to start with the americanos, so he took two cups to get them out of his pending-orders list. But a loud whine reached his ears and he snapped his head up from the cups.

“Oh, come on! Stop it already!”

He didn’t need to turn around to know where it was coming from. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

Fucking hell.

Leaving his cups there, he rushed out the counter.

“Could you stop that?” he asked as soon as he reached the table.

Yixing and Sehun stopped kissing to look at him. They had the insolence to seem surprised to see him standing there. What the hell?

“Ban them already!” Jongin exclaimed, raising his arms in an exaggerated way. “They don’t stop! I don’t want them near!”

“You can take another table,” Sehun said, placing an arm on Yixing’s shoulders. The movement was so natural, that anyone could think they had been together for years and not only five months. Seriously.

“We had already had this conversation, for fuck’s sake,” Jongdae said, crossing his arms. “This is a public place.”

“So?” Sehun asked, the annoying brat.

“So, you can’t do that kind of…” Jongdae waved his hand at them, scrunching his nose up. “That kind of stuff in public. It’s like you want to eat each other’s face. It’s horrific.”

“It's because you're jealous.” Yixing threw him a smug smile and Jongdae felt like punching him.

“If being in a relationship means looking as nauseating as you,” Jongdae said, “then I want to remain single for the rest of my life.”

“Jongin has two sisters,” Yixing said, completely ignoring his insult at them. “We could introduce you to any of—”

“Not available for any of you,” Jongin interrupted.

“We’re not interested? We’re dating another guy,” Yixing deadpanned, waving a finger between Sehun and him.

“Doesn’t Chanyeol have a sister, too?” Sehun unnecessarily added, unbothered about Jongin and Yixing’s discussion.

“Nah, she’s married,” Yixing mumbled and reached Sehun’s hand to play with his fingers.

Oh, no. Hell. They were getting touchy again. That was Jongdae’s cue to go back from he had come.

“You know what? I don’t have time to deal with your shit.” He waved his hand at them again as he turned around. “Just stop the PDA. You’re disgusting.”

“Wait! Don’t leave me with them!” Jongin whined behind him, but Jongdae didn’t stay. He had had enough of Yixing and Sehun.

Those two had been at it for months and it had been a torture. Life had been way easier when they had been on their pining phase. And funnier. Way funnier. At least he could tease them nonstop back then. Yixing with his ‘I don’t have a crush’ stance. Sehun with his ‘I do like him but please don’t tell him’ stance.

What a pair of ridiculous cowards. Not that he was counting, but took them like ten or eleven fucking months to have the guts to do something. But now that they had solved their issues, Jongdae wasn’t so sure it had been a good idea to let them know each other.

Okay, right.

He was lying.

They were ridiculous and disgusting, there was no doubt about it. But he couldn’t be more thankful that it had ended like that.

He had seen Yixing suffer for years. Minseok and he had tried everything to take him out of his misery, but nothing had worked. It had been one failed attempt after another and they had been desperate to find a way to bring their friend back from the limbo.

That was why he had insisted on making Yixing date Junmyeon. He had thought that it could work. He had been so sure that they were the perfect match. But then Sehun appeared and he realized how wrong he had been. That day when Sehun had walked in looking like a loser with his soaked clothes, he realized that he was the one for Yixing. He had just known it—Sehun drooled when he noticed Yixing’s presence in the café. And Yixing had a dumb face when Sehun walked in. He was sure that there was where the real shit would happen. He just needed to give them a little push and then everything would happen on its own.

So he tried, for months, to make them interact. He let each other know things about the other. Hinted that they were interested in each other, even if none of them had explicitly told him so—it hadn’t been a lie, anyway. They had been interested in each other, so he guessed that playing that card was fair game.

He knew that Yixing would be in denial. About liking Sehun. About Sehun liking him. Yixing thought he wasn’t oblivious. That he always realized when someone tried to hit on him—but he never realized. He was oblivious, the dumbass. So Jongdae's main target had always been Sehun.

He had almost immediately made Sehun confess he did like Yixing. It hadn’t been hard. He had caught Sehun staring at Yixing, so of course, as the polite man Jongdae was, he pretty much blurted a, “You like him, don’t you?” Sehun had been so flustered that he had ran out the café without retrieving his change. It had been so, so funny. Then the next day, the man had come back confessing everything by himself.

After that, he tried to convince Sehun to do something about his crush. He persuaded him into talking to Yixing. To approach him and make a move. To strike an interaction with him, no matter how stupid or small it was. But Sehun always refused, because, “I don’t want him to think that I’m a creep, Jongdae. We don’t even know each other!”

This had made him roll his eyes more than once.

But one fortunate day, when the café had been so full that there had been no room for even air—like today, actually—it was as if life had had some mercy on him. The only available chair had been that at Yixing’s table. It took him five long minutes to convince Sehun that Yixing wouldn’t mind if he sat there with him.

And then he succeeded. He convinced him. But Sehun tripped and ended up pushing Yixing. That stupid, infatuated boy. It had been so funny to see their faces, because none of them had been expecting it. Yixing let him sit, anyway—of course he did. After that, they began having this thing between them. And just like that, Jongdae’s cupid job had been done.

It had been easy, really. Though those had been tiring months. Very tiring months.

But looking at Yixing now, he knew that it had been all worth it. He actually didn’t care if they kissed in public. It was fine for him. They were happy. That was enough to make him happy, too. For the time being, at least—but that was something he would keep in secret, only for himself.