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Seokjin goes in and rounds the kitchen. He takes a mug but then he puts it back to where it belonged. He opens the fridge—sleepy pout still adorning his face—and sighs. He takes the bottled coffee with his face on the packaging and opens it dejectedly. His first sip of coffee is taken in the living room, on the sofa, with a recently-woke-up-Hoseok next to him.
“We should have our own coffee shop by now,” Seokjin grumbles. His eyes are still puffy from sleep and his voice is still croaky and hoarse. “Why don’t we have our own coffee shop?”
Hoseok huffs a silent, one breath laugh. “We have a lifetime supply of that, though.”
“Fresh coffee, Hoseok,” Seokjin stresses. “Freshly ground and freshly brewed.”
Hoseok observes silently as Seokjin leans on him and gets comfy cuddled up to his side. He eyes the bottle of coffee. Seokjin looks good there, but the real one—the one that currently has bed hair and in his pajamas—looks better in Hoseok’s eyes. He sighs and circles his arm around Seokjin’s shoulder, pulling the older closer. What time do they need to get ready? Maybe soon, but Hoseok’s eyes are heavy and Seokjin next to him is warm. “Does it make any difference for iced americano?” he asks, just for the sake of the conversation.
“Hm, I don’t know,” Seokjin admits, looking forlornly at his coffee. “I like the smell, though. The coffee shop smell, you know?”
“Hm,” Hoseok nods. His eyes are closed and his cheek is perched on the top of Seokjin’s head. Through the haze of his sleepy brain, he could imagine the warm and familiar smell of a coffee shop wafting through his nose.
“Let’s have our own coffee shop,” Seokjin says, also closing his eyes. He clutches his coffee as he would to his RJ and starts to close his eyes too. “Let’s grind some beans and bake some pastries.”
Hoseok chuckles. “Sounds nice,” he says because it does.
“Somewhere less crowded,” Seokjin continues. His morning pout has loosened and a small smile hangs on his lips. “On the mountains or by the beach.”
Hoseok entertains the idea. He feels warm. It’s just a silly morning idea but he could very well see himself in this imaginary coffee shop with Seokjin around, baking cookies and whatnot. “Gwangju?” he contributes to the idea. “I miss Gwangju.”
Seokjin’s smile gets wider. “Yeah, Gwangju is alright.”
“I need to learn how to properly make coffee first, though,” Hoseok giggles, remembering the last time they were asked to make coffee on camera.
Seokjin laughs. “Yeah,” he agrees quickly, “Me too.”
“Pastries too,” Hoseok adds.
“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees again. He then inhales and exhales. Calm and solemn. Joyful. Hopeful. “Don’t worry, we have plenty of times.”
Hoseok nods slowly. Years. They have years. “Yeah, plenty,” he says. The words roll out of his tongue not with distaste, but with promise.
Seokjin makes some sounds of affirmation. He rolls his body to sit up straight, steal a quick peck on Hoseok’s cheek, and stand up. “We’re surviving with these handsome bottles for now, then.”
Hoseok laughs. “I’m fine with that,” he says, a hand grabbing Seokjin’s, not ready to let go. “Would you be a dear and get me a handsome bottle of coffee too, hyungie?”
Seokjin rolls his eyes and releases his hand from Hoseok’s, starting for the kitchen despite his attitude. “What kind of handsome do you want this morning, Mr. Customer?”
“What is today’s special?” Hoseok plays along.
“Today’s special is barista’s pick,” Seokjin shouts. He then goes back to the living room and drops the bottle in Hoseok’s lap, “It’s on the house. Enjoy!”
Hoseok sees Seokjin trudging to the bedrooms and shouting for everyone to wake up. Once the older is out of sight, he takes his bottle of coffee and sees his own face staring back at him. He smiles. As he gulps down the liquid, he takes mental note to search about owning a coffee shop.
Later, the word rings nicely in Hoseok’s mind.