Work Text:
“I’ll see you later, Beom?”
“Maybe,” Beomgyu shrugs. “I wish to be alone today. Mother has got me rather pissed.”
“Do mind your language, Beomgyu,” Yeonjun scolds, “you’re a nobleman. And yes, I noticed- however, wouldn’t it be far safer if we—“ Yeonjun tries again, and Beomgyu shakes his head vigorously.
“I’m fine, hyung.”
Yeonjun sighs in defeat. “Back by sundown, understand?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Beomgyu mutters under his breath, walking off toward the town square, his hands in his pockets and shoulders squared.
Yeonjun shakes his head, sighing. “What should I do with you, Choi Beomgyu!” He utters, and swinging his umbrella about cheerfully, makes his way down the town.
Choi Yeonjun, cousin of Choi Beomgyu(removed twice yet made his cousin again) is a nobleman of high ranking, just like Choi Beomgyu.
Today is Yeonjun’s twentieth birthday(his coming of age) and he sets out of the house at the crack of dawn to investigate the business of the common people; Yeonjun, like Beomgyu, detests the idea of being treated above others less fortunate than him. Yeonjun takes it upon himself to often check on the townspeople and help them about in their daily lives. Yeonjun feels like he’s recognised, a real person in the town.
So to town he goes.
“Hello, Yeonjun!” Huening calls out, waving happily by the fountain in the town centre. “Or should I greet you formally?”
“Formally, you little rodent,” Yeonjun laughs good-naturedly, and Huening walks up to him, slinging his arm around the older’s shoulder.
“I apologise, my good nobleman. How do you do today, Mr Choi?”
“I’m alright, Huening,” Yeonjun giggles. Their parents would never let any of them speak as equals and informally, yet when they were alone, many of the noble’s children often spoke informally and as they pleased. “Don’t you have anything to say to me, this fine morning?”
“Oh yes, the butcher told me that the landlord’s daughter has given her hand in marriage to one of the laundryman’s sons, could you have imagined?” Huening chuckles, and Yeonjun flicks his forehead teasingly, though quite roughly. “Ack!”
“Not that, you little imbecile!”
“I offer my apologies, Mr Choi. A very happy day of birth and many happy returns of the day.”
Yeonjun rolls his eyes in a joking manner, ruffling Hueningkai’s hair endearingly.
“Who shall we pay a visit to on this beautiful day?” Huening asks in a sing-song voice, crisscrossing his steps as he walks alongside Yeonjun. Yeonjun smiles to himself— although almost a grown man himself, Huening often has a childish yet mature and pure aura that radiated from him, and this often makes Yeonjun love being around the younger— he would have a splendid afternoon today.
“I don’t think I know. Would you know of anyone that might need help?”
Huening scratches his head thoughtfully, his eyes wandering the environment with sparkles in them. “I don’t suppose you heard of the new baker family that moved in from the eastern province?”
“No?” Yeonjun inclines his head, surprised. “I heard of the patisserie family from the southern province? The Lees?”
“Oh yes, there’s them, too! A nice couple with their son Lee Yongbok running the patisserie. But I mean another line of Chois, my good fellow.”
“Ah, a family of Chois from the Eastern province?” Yeonjun asks with interest, tapping his umbrella on the flagstones of the street.
“Yes! Their son’s name is Choi Soobin, if I’m not mistaken.” Huening comments, chuckling. “Shall we pay a visit to their store?”
Yeonjun shrugs, tapping his fingers rhythmically against his pocket watch in his pant pocket. “That does sound rather pleasant. I suppose we could pay a visit and help out, too, if there is a need for it.”
————————————————————————————-
“If I’m not mistaken, this should be the store. It looks unopened for now, however.” Huening comments, gesturing to the tiny shophouse next to the pub down the alley.
It’s a pleasant little vintage cottage-looking shophouse, with beautiful green french doors and tinted-glass windows on either side, each with their own normal, clear window beside it. The windows are dusty and dirty, and the door had evidently been through a thorough cleaning recently, polished and scrubbed to the extent that Yeonjun could fix his hair by looking at the pleasant evergreen paint.
If Yeonjun remembers correctly, this building used to be the residence of a church, which might explain the stained-glass windows by the french doors. It is a beautiful architectural structure, Yeonjun must admit, and would look far more grand if kept in better shape. Hopefully the bakers that make residence here will spruce the place up a little, and make it look pleasant again, Yeonjun thinks.
The interior is largely empty aside from the wooden counter that seems to just be built in not too long ago(perhaps a couple of days past), scrubbed and polished until it shone. A few wooden tables are arranged beautifully around the room, and shelves line the walls, fresh with the smell of raw wood. Soon, the scent of homemade bread would overpower it. Placed in front of the clear windows from the inside are what Yeonjun assumes to be display tables, showing different frosted cakes that he admires with full interest.
“These are very well done, Huening. I’ve never thought of cake-frosting to be an art, yet now that I think of it, it sort of is, isn’t it?”
“Oh yes, it is quite the art.” Huening acknowledges, impressed. “I should think Soobin did these.”
With a twinkle in his eye, Yeonjun smiles widely at Huening. “Shall we go ask?”
“If you’d like.”
“Welcome! I’m afraid that we haven’t fully opened yet, though you may smell bread from the back of the bakery-“ the boy stops, abruptly standing up straight at Yeonjun and Huening’s arrival. “O-Oh, Mr Choi and- Mr Huening! It’s an honour-“ the boy looks so flustered that Yeonjun can’t help but let out a small laugh of delight at his adorable expression.
“How do you do? And not to worry— there is no issue at all, we simply came by to see if we could be of any help at all,” Yeonjun smiles pleasantly and holds out his hand with a little incline of his head. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, I’m Choi Yeonjun.”
“Oh, that is very kind of you.” The other replies, beet red. He wipes his hands hastily on his apron and takes Yeonjun’s hand into his own, calloused, large ones, shaking them with surprise. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Yeonjun-ssi. My name is Choi Soobin.”
“I’m delighted to meet you, Soobin,” Yeonjun beams, pulling Hueningkai closer to his side. “This is Kai Kamal Huening, my best friend and neighbour. He often goes by Kai or Huening, of course.”
“I’m very glad to finally meet you, Soobin,” Huening says pleasantly, and Soobin nods in acknowledgement, his dimples popping out on his pleasant features.
Yeonjun takes a quick analysis of the younger boy before him- fluffy dark purple hair, curious, innocent-looking eyes, a pretty nose and little rabbit mouth. Yeonjun smiles to himself- Soobin looks rather sweet, if he could say so himself.
“I couldn’t help but notice you have yet to put your sign outside of the store,” Yeonjun comments casually, “could we be of any help with that?”
Soobin blinks, taken aback. “Oh, er, I was rather just about to put it up. Is it really alright if you—“
“Don’t be silly,” Yeonjun scoffs, leaning his umbrella by the door of the bakery. “Of course I can help. Just because I was born from a noble lineage has nothing to do with my ability and equality amongst those that aren’t of nobility whatsoever.”
Huening smiles. “Do you have a ladder? I could help you fetch it, if you’d like.”
“Oh, you both are very kind.” Soobin smiles gladly. “That would be of great help, but-“
“I will act as if I had only heard up until you had said ‘that would be of great help’, and accept it as a ‘yes thank you, sir’. How about that?” Huening asks teasingly, entering the back of the store to fetch the ladder.
Yeonjun hammers down the last nail, stepping back to admire his and Soobin’s handiwork.
The sign was simple, hanging pleasantly from a metal beam protruding from the wall. Wooden and cleanly cut, the sign depicted a black silhouette of a rabbit in a waxing blue moon crescent, with the beautifully carved letters beneath the drawing reading:
Choi Lunar Bakery
“It is a rather pretty sign. What carpenter did you visit?” Yeonjun asks, placing the mallet on the counter. “It was so cleanly done, almost better than the carpenter my father hired for our kitchen cabinets, if I may say so myself.”
Soobin goes red with delight. “Is that really so? I’m glad to hear that.” Soobin rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, barely able to look Yeonjun in the eye. “I made that. Along with building this counter,” Soobin gestures to the counter Yeonjun leans on, giving it a solid knock, “and those tables and chairs. My father is a carpenter, you see.”
“Is that so! You’re a man of many talents,” Yeonjun says in surprise, chuckling. “I suppose your cakes displayed at the window were also done by you?”
“Oh yes! I did every single one of those.” Soobin says, evidently joyful at being recognised at his strengths. “Those were the best out of all of those that I’ve tried.”
Huening returns from keeping the ladder in its respective place in the back of the bakery, and joins on the conversation, pulling up a chair and taking a seat. “I have a very important question, Soobin-ssi.”
“Do go ahead,” Soobin says, intrigued.
“I do suppose, as a baker, you might’ve heard of the new delicacy from China.” Huening begins with an air of great importance. “I don’t suppose you know how to make them?”
“Do you perhaps by any means, mean… egg tarts?” Soobin asks in disbelief, and Huening nods with vigour.
“Yes! Exactly. Tarts of egg. Yes yes.”
Yeonjun rolls his eyes, placing his face in his hands. “You are such an unbelievable imbecile.”
“Oh, hush, hyung, you absolutely love me.”
“Er, I think so. The dough would not be too difficult, and I should think by theory(and perhaps trial and error a few times) I would know the custard, yes.” Soobin scratches his head in thought. “would you like me to make you some this week?”
“Oh, that would be lovely .” Huening sighs dreamily. “You’re the best, Soobin.”
Soobin chuckles awkwardly, happy. “Am I?”
There’s a comfortable silence, and suddenly Huening sits straight up in his seat, alarmed. “Oh the blasted hour.”
“Pardon?” Yeonjun asks, looking at his best friend in confusion.
“My mother will absolutely send me to the butcher as a deer if I do not get home in exactly two minutes!” Huening gets up abruptly, tripping over himself in a hurry.
“Wait, Huening, you said that you were free the whole day to spend my birthday with me,” Yeonjun says sadly, looking at his best friend with puppy eyes. “Why must you go home?”
“I am rather sorry; I forgot that I promised my mother I’d be home for lunch, at least, but I’ll come back downtown(if she doesn’t murder me first). Shall I meet you here?”
“Alright, then. What time-?” Yeonjun questions, and Huening frantically checks his pocket watch.
“I can be here by half-past three.” Huening states. “I will meet you again then, hyung. My apologies! Do accept my love as thanks,” Huening jokes, planting a swift, joking kiss on Yeonjun’s head, which makes the older yelp and swat the younger’s arm as he turns to leave with a musical laugh.
There’s a comfortable yet awkward silence now that Huening is gone.
“So.. I think I should get to work on scrubbing the unbelievable amount of grime off the windows.” Soobin says, scratching his head, and Yeonjun twirls his umbrella around.
“Would you like me to help, or are you asking me to leave?”
Soobin hesitates, blushing a little as he slowly says, “I think that part is up to you, sir Choi.”
“I shall remain here by your side in the instance that you’d need me.” Yeonjun decides, and trails along as Soobin walks over to the window, scrubbing from the inside with a worn-down cloth from a metal pail.
“Alright then.”
There’s a comfortable silence.
“I can’t get this darned-“ Soobin claps his left hand over his mouth, wide-eyed. “I’m so sorry, my language-!”
“Not to worry,” Yeonjun chuckles. “I live with Choi Beomgyu of all people; if I am not used to the use of curses by the age of twenty, I wonder what I really am accustomed to.
“May I?” Yeonjun asks politely, and Soobin blinks, surprised. He nods, handing the rag to Yeonjun.
The rough material makes contact with Yeonjun’s soft hands, and he forcefully works at the stain, which eventually makes its way out. Soobin leans over and closer, interested in seeing the work being done.
“There we are.” Yeonjun looks up, and his nose bumps into Soobin’s, and there’s a tense moment when both of them freeze.
“You look very very handsome from this close, too,” Soobin says quietly, and Yeonjun blinks, taken aback.
“Thank you?”
Slowly, so so ever so slowly, Soobin’s eyes flutter shut and he leans forward, and Yeonjun’s heart hammers painfully against his ribcage.
Soobin pushes his lips against Yeonjun’s, ever so gently, and butterflies burst around in Yeonjun’s stomach.
I’m kissing Soobin.
I’m kissing a boy I just met.
I’m kissing a boy.
I like this.
Yeonjun barely gets to register that Soobin tastes like wheat, honey, with a hint of lavender lingering on his lips before Soobin pulls away softly, and he giggles slightly as he looks at Yeonjun’s confused facial expressions. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Thought never crossed my mind.” Yeonjun chuckles, nervously scratching his neck and averting his gaze.
“What’s bothering you, Mr Choi?” Soobin asks jokingly, and Yeonjun laughs.
“That was my first kiss.”
“Oh. And what might you be thinking of?” Soobin inquires, and Yeonjun smiles widely at him, throwing the rag in the pail.
“I liked it.”