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“Bumseok.”
Sieun nudged his friend awake in the taxi. Bumseok’s eyes flashed open as he looked to see where they were. The car had stopped moving.
“We’re here. You fell asleep.”
“Oh, thanks.”
Bumseok rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He looked to the right of him and saw an empty seat where Sugo was meant to be. And turned back to Sieun and opened his mouth to question him about it- but before he could finish, Suho flung open the door.
“Ya, Sieun. Bumseok. Are you coming or what?”
Rain pattered down the sides of the vehicle and dripped onto the seat. The taxi driver- an old, bald man who looked like he polished his head to a shine every morning- shooed them out before his seats got any wetter. The car was gone sooner than Bumseok could blink.
Left out in the cold and slowly getting wetter, the boys rushed inside the restaurant where it was warm. Suho poked his head into the kitchen and yelled something Bumseok couldn’t hear over the whirring of fans and chattering of customers. Sieun looked as unworried as ever, his big doe-eyes scanning the tables and hands fidgeting with his hoodie zipper.
Suho reappeared in front of them and hooked an arm on each of his friends, grumbling something about his Grandma bringing something special out for them. Bumseok let himself be led to a table by the wall and sat in the chair facing away from it.
“What do you want? Grandma is bringing something special for us, so don’t overeat Sieun. Bumseok, you want kimchi stew? You seem like a stew guy. It’s so good, my Grandma makes it the best. What she does is…”
Bumseok didn’t hear the rest and just nodded as he looked at the laminated menu on the table, and- wow. He hadn’t had half of this stuff since he was a kid.
“…anyways, that’s just a suggestion. What are you looking at?”
Suho stretched himself over the table to track Bumseok’s line of sight to an item on the menu.
“Gomguk? You’re a genius. Yo, Youngyi!” Suho shouted across the room.
Sieun scoffed at him.
“Don’t be so loud.”
“I’m not loud. Bumseok, you want gomguk, right?” Suho paused for confirmation. Bumseok nodded. “Bumseok wants gomguk, what do you want Sieun?”
His quieter friend blinked slowly and turned his head to the menu, as if he had forgotten to look in the first place, and scanned the list of dishes much faster than either of them had.
“Oiseon.”
Suho made a face and shrugged.
“Well, I’m having dakgalbi. Since Sieun’s clearly lost it, me and Bumseok are the only rational people around here. How sad.”
Bumseok smiled and looked for Youngyi. She was headed in a beeline straight for them with a notepad gripped between her fingers. Her pink-streaked hair was uncharacteristically tied up into a low ponytail and her apron was bright red. She stopped in front of the table and slammed the notepad onto the surface of it, looking down at the boys with a conspiratorial glare.
“We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. The choice is yours.”
Suho cuffed the side of Youngyi’s head, and she rolled her eyes and lightened up.
“Stop being weird. Gomguk for Bumseok, dakgalbi for me, and-“ Suho makes a comically disgusted face, “oiseon for Sieun.”
Youngyi scribbled down the orders.
“Grandma wants you in the kitchen, by the way.”
Then just like that, she rushed off. Suho groaned out an apology for leaving, promising to be back soon, and sauntered off into the back.
Bumseok leaned back in his chair and looked up to the ceiling, huffing a sigh.
“Are you okay?”
He almost didn’t hear Sieun’s question over the noise. Bumseok dropped his head back down to eye level to see Sieun looking at him all- all worried. His eyes were big and made him feel too seen like he was naked and Sieun could read all his thoughts as they formed.
“What?”
“You’re quieter than usual. You haven’t been texting us back. We’re worried.”
The familiar feeling of frustration began to rise in Bumseok’s gut at his words- worried? He fought the feeling back down.
“I-“ he glanced towards the kitchen where Suho presumably was, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden, “it’s stupid.”
He watched as Sieun’s brow furrowed.
“It probably isn’t. You can tell me.”
Whatever, right? They’re friends. Sieun never lied about anything before.
“Suho never followed me on Instagram.”
Now that Bumseok said it aloud, it sounded even more stupid. Like Grade-A bullshitery. Sieun didn’t look like he disagreed- his face could have been carved out of stone with how blank he looked. Bumseok didn’t say anything for a minute, blinking down at the glistening table and bouncing his leg mercilessly shaking the table.
“It’s… a little stupid.”
“You just said it wouldn’t be.”
“I said probably.”
“Look-“
Sieun interrupted him.
“How you feel isn’t stupid. Why do you care about that, though? We hang out all the time.”
Bumseok pressed his palms to his eyes until he saw colours and stars.
“I- I didn’t care as much, but- he followed Youngyi. And she posts him all the time. I even asked him to follow me, I messaged him. I don’t know why it bugs me so much.”
“Suho barely uses it. Youngyi bribed him.”
That made a lot of sense. Youngyi was annoying on the best of days. Bumseok heaved a sigh.
“He’s so pushy too, I don’t like when he touches me out of nowhere. It’s nice sometimes, but..”
God, his neck hurt. And his head. His everything, really. Talking about feelings sucked.
“Tell him.”
Dread pulled his stomach up to his throat- he couldn’t tell him. Suho would hate him, he would make fun of him and tell him he’s being an idiot and that no one in their right mind would like him enough to listen to a word he says.
“Bumseok. He won’t hate you.”
Sieun always told the truth. Sieun hadn’t lied to him before. Would he lie now?
Bumseok watched as Suho walked out of the kitchen carrying more food than the three boys could ever possibly need, and Sieun finally looked away from him in favour of making sure Suho didn’t trip and make a fool out of himself. A bowl was haphazardly placed in front of him containing something that smelled like heaven on earth- beef bone soup.
Heaven on earth, to him, smelled like home. Not the sterile shitty place he lived now with a sorry excuse for a ‘father’- but his real one. The one he had before… he couldn’t remember. All they told him was that his parents died, not how or why.
His mom at the stove with a spoon in her hand, and his dad singing a song and dancing with her to an imaginary beat.
Bumseok lifted a spoonful of broth to his mouth and slurped.
“How is it? Good? It better be, Grandma makes the best in the world, and she blessed this bowl for you.”
Suho leaned to ruffle his hair, Bumseok dodging the outstretched hand and smacking it away with ease. He smiled at the complaining that followed- just a little- before replying.
“Yeah, it’s good.”
A week or so later, Bumseok and Suho came to pick Sieun up after cram school.
“Suho, can we- uh- talk?”
Footsteps stopped with a light squeak in the hallway. Suho turned around.
“What’s wrong?”
Bumseok looked like hell. And when Suho said hell, he meant hell, as in Bumseok was limping and winced when he sat down and had dark circles hanging below his eyes- eyes that usually sparkled with something like amusement, but had turned into something darker. Worse, he wouldn’t even tell them what was going on. Every question about the specifics of his well-being was shrugged off or rerouted to another topic.
He didn’t want to talk about it. That was fine. Except it wasn’t, it was killing Suho every day that Bumseok showed up to school and couldn’t laugh at his jokes because it hurt his chest- bruises, probably- it was killing him that there was nothing he could do except pretend he forgot his hoodie on Bumseok’s seat so he wouldn’t have to sit directly on the rock hard chair attached to the desk. Nothing he could do except bring Bumseok a snack during the break because he wasn’t even sure if his friend was eating these days.
“Uh- outside?”
Suho remembered why he was still at school so late.
“Sieun-“
“He’s not out yet. I checked.”
Sieun could find them outside, he decided. This seemed important.
The afternoon was fading into evening, cool air seeping through Suho’s layers of clothes with a vigour he only felt in the spring. The sun was low, pulling the warmth out of the sky with it as it disappeared below the horizon.
They sat down on a bench near some back entrance to the school Suho had no idea existed, shuffling to get comfortable as he watched Bumseok steel himself for whatever conversation they were about to have.
A heavy sigh. Then-
“Am I your friend?”
Okay. Not what Suho was anticipating at all.
“Hey- What? Of course, you are, Bumseok. Don’t be silly.”
“Please take this seriously,” Bumseok’s voice wavered.
Suho paused- this was serious, serious. He spoke with less humour in his voice this time.
“You are. You’re my best friend, along with Sieun.”
“And Youngyi?”
“Youngyi- ya, are you- okay, what do you mean?”
“Is she your best friend?”
He fought the urge to roll his eyes, “No, obviously not. She’s annoying. More like a sister or a cousin, her living with us and all.”
“…”
“…”
Bumseok mumbled something under his breath.
“Sorry?”
Another heavy sigh. The bench creaked as Bumseok leaned back into it with his full weight.
“Can you follow me back on Instagram?”
Suho couldn’t hold back a laugh, covering his mouth to pretend it was a cough. His performance wasn’t convincing.
“I know it’s stupid, Suho, you don’t have to- what are you doing?”
Bright white flashed in Suho’s eyes as he opened Instagram.
“Aah, you messaged me already? Sorry. I don’t ever check this thing. Shameful of me.”
His friend watched with bleary eyes as Suho pressed the blue follow button on his devastatingly empty profile.
“Alright. It’s done. Anything else?”
Bumseok was nodding his head before he even finished the question.
“Please stop dragging me around as much. You can hug me but don’t push me. I don’t like it,” Bumseok stated. He looked away from Suho with a hunch of his shoulders that grew tenser by the second.
“Okay.”
The sheer speed of Bumseok’s head as it turned almost flung the glasses clean off of his face. He was confused. Shocked. Like he didn’t expect Suho to say anything let alone accept it so quickly.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“I thought you would be more…” Bumseok looked at Suho with squinted eyes, “mad about it.”
Suho let the laugh escape him this time.
“Maybe if I was a fucking idiot, I would be. Only losers like Youngbin would do something like that, and lucky for us, I’m not one of those losers.”
“You don’t- it’s not rude?”
A gentle hand settled on Bumseok’s shoulder.
“You’re my friend, Bumseok. I would rather die than make you uncomfortable or feel left out. I don’t know why you care so much about me following you, but if it makes you happy, I’ll do it.”
There wasn’t an answer. Suho left it alone.
They sat together in silence for a while, the chill of night creeping in until Bumseok called it quits.
“Sieun’s probably done. We should head back in,” he said, standing and turning around to offer a hand to Suho. Suho took it, feeling the cold sweat on Bumseok’s palms and let himself be yanked up.
As they walked inside with shoulders lighter now that they held one less burden, Suho nudged Bumseok’s shoulder with his signature shit-eating grin plastered on.
“Wanna scare him when he walks out?”
“You’re so annoying. Yes.”