Chapter Text
Jeongin is late.
He isn’t quite running, but his shoes still splash onto the growing puddles on the sidewalk, soaking the fabric and his socks. Later, at home, he will need to scrub the mud off them and put them up to dry, but he can worry about that when he isn’t late and risking being lectured by Minho for showing up almost twenty minutes past the supposed start of his shift and covering the floor of the shop in dirty rainwater.
The hood of his coat does a good job of keeping the freezing raindrops from hitting his face, but the rest of his clothes are starting to get soaked and heavy.
As soon as he turns the corner, a block away from the shop, his phone pings and he curses, fumbling for it in the pocket of his coat. Raindrops speckle the screen as soon as he manages to pull it out. Minho is wondering where the hell he is, it’s been almost twenty five minutes since he was supposed to clock in and-
He is so absorbed in trying to send a reassuring text to Minho while breaking into a sprint that he doesn’t notice someone walking right in front of him. The person attempts to step out of the way but it’s too late – Jeongin’s chest slams onto them.
When he manages to steady himself and catch his breath, he notices that the other person wasn’t half as lucky, falling on their back right on top of an unfortunate puddle of muddy water. He stands frozen for what feels like hours, until he’s broken out of his reverie when the boy on the ground groans weakly and gingerly sits up.
Jeongin curses, crouching to help him up. “Oh my god I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going I should have paid more attention I was in a rush and-”
“It’s alright.” The boy chuckles and lets himself be pulled up, smiling wide despite the situation. His bangs are glued to his forehead and Jeongin winces at the water dripping from the back of his head right into his sweatshirt. The earliest signs of spring are only now starting to show, he must be freezing.
“I’m so, so sorry, please let me make it up to you.” Jeongin himself is freezing. His clothes are drenched, there’s water inside his shoes and his hair is also starting to drip. The boy’s umbrella is forgotten on the sidewalk.
“Don’t worry, it was just an accident!” The boy smiles again, but Jeongin can see that it’s a bit tight, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, visibly uncomfortable.
Jeongin could cry. He is almost half an hour late for his shift and this boy is smiling at him in the rain after being basically tackled into freezing mud. He isn’t even wearing a coat, Jeongin can see him starting to tremble where he stands. He scrambles to pick up the umbrella from the floor, grabbing onto the boy’s sleeve and gently pushing him underneath. They’re both already drenched but at least the water stops running down his face and obstructing his vision.
On top of everything else, he will need to ask Minho for a borrowed change of clothes. He worries about the boy as well, will he need to walk around soaked to the bone for the rest of the day?
“Please, I work just across the street, you can warm up and borrow a change of clothes.” In the worst case scenario he can shed a few layers and wait for his own clothes to dry, letting the other boy borrow Minho’s dry ones. When he tentatively nods in confirmation, Jeongin leads him across the street and into the small flower shop.
As soon as he closes the door behind the both of them, Minho looks up from the counter. “There you are! Why did you not pick up your phone and leave me to wonder if you managed to fall face first into a puddle and drown?” That’s when he looks behind Jeongin and sees the smaller boy carefully closing his umbrella. “Hm? Jisung?”
The boy (Jisung?), looks up with wide eyes and clasps his hands awkwardly in front of his body “Um. Hi hyung .”
Minho is already leading the both of them into the back and ushering them to take off their soaked through outer layers when Jeongin finally asks “Wait, you know each other?”
“Mmhm” Minho hums, sitting Jeongin down and gesturing for him to take off his shoes. “Jisung works with hyung .”
Jeongin knows all about Minho’s beloved Chan- hyung despite only ever seeing him in passing at the shop. He has heard so much about him from Minho, in fact, that he has started questioning what crosses the line of “too much” regarding knowledge about a guy he has never talked to. He doesn’t dare vocalize any of those thoughts when Minho is still holding his shoes, lest he become the first recorded victim of death by hot pink converse.
“Mm. He talks a lot about Minho- hyung .” Jisung says, still trembling slightly. His undershirt is drenched, but oversized enough that it doesn’t stick to his body as much. On top of his innermost layer, he wears a necklace, made of rope with a small pendant shaped like an acorn.
He looks up at Jisung. His eyes are very round and his cheeks are rounder. He notices Jeongin looking and smiles again.
Jeongin’s innermost layer is more or less still dry, but he still digs in his bag for an extra hoodie that he gives to Jisung who, after accepting one of Minho’s extra sweaters, gets swallowed by it, the tips of his fingers barely peeking through the sleeves.
“Walk Jisungie back to his shop, yeah?” Minho says, as he helps Jeongin into his coat and demands Seungmin, who was smart enough to wear boots, to lend his shoes so Jeongin can go out and do just that.
“Isn’t it easier for you to just walk him yourself?” Seungmin whines, but relents when Minho sends him a look.
“Jeonginnie was the one who made him fall so he should make up for it.” At this, Jisung makes a quiet remark about it not being his fault, but Minho is already opening the umbrella and shoving them outside.
Jeongin suspects Minho feels bad for him, and this is his roundabout way of giving him a break from work. He and Seungmin couldn’t have been more lucky to have him as their boss.
Jisung is the one who ends up leading the both of them across the street and into the coziest little coffee shop hidden in between the bigger stores. It’s empty, and Jisung is the one to turn on the lights and usher him to sit facing the counter.
“I didn’t get you in trouble with your boss, did I?” He worries as he watches Jisung pick up things behind the counter.
“No no, um.” Jisung chuckles. “I’m the boss.”
“Oh.” Jisung smiles at that. The guy sure seems to smile a lot, but who is Jeongin to judge? “So you run this all by yourself?”
“You could say that.” He observes as Jisung carefully slides a slice of something into a little plate before bringing it close to his face, almost as if the dessert was speaking to him. He abruptly notices that Jisung’s round eyes sparkle, almost like a kaleidoscope. “It doesn’t need much more than just me and Channie- hyung to keep it running.” He says, gently placing the plate and a spoon on the counter before Jeongin, gesturing for him to try it.
He picks up a decent spoonful of the dessert and puts it in his mouth. The effect is instantaneous. The crust is baked to perfection, all soft and crunchy, lined with a thin layer of dark chocolate, the yellow filling melts in his mouth, sweet and sour and refreshing. It’s possibly the best thing Jeongin has ever tasted in the twenty one years of his life.
“Woah, what is this?” He says right before shoveling another spoonful of the divine dessert into his mouth.
Jisung is smiling again, almost vibrating in his spot behind the counter. “It’s a passionfruit tart! I made it just this morning, do you like it?”
“Are you kidding, please give me your hand in marriage.” He jokes, worrying for half a second that he went too far by bringing up marriage to a guy he met half an hour ago, but Jisung laughs from deep in his chest.
He has such a warm laugh, Jeongin can’t help but smile back at him. The freezing rain still pelts against the glass windows of the shop, but Jeongin feels warm and content. In the case of a blackout, Jisung’s smile could light up the room.
“I’m really glad you like it.”
As Jeongin finishes up the heavenly tart, Jisung picks up two little muffins and delicately puts them inside a paper bag. “Here, for Minho- hyung and your other friend.”
“Oh, I didn’t bring my wallet, I can go back real quick-” But Jisung cuts him off, placing the little bag in his lap.
“It’s on the house.” Jeongin is about to complain, but Jisung cuts him off again before he can speak. “Just a thanks between friends, yeah?”
Jisung looks like a cute little angel and Jeongin can’t possibly say no to him.
On the way back, Minho’s padded coat keeps him and the little paper bag safe from the rain.
Back at the shop, the puddles Jeongin and Jisung left were cleaned up and Jeongin’s clothes were put to dry. Seungmin and Minho seem to enjoy the muffins almost as much as he enjoyed that divine tart.
“I already ate at the shop.” He tells them when they inquire about the two pastries in the bag. Passionfruit and white chocolate muffins, Jisung had said.
“Jisungie is a sweetheart.” Minho says, sighing as he slowly savors the muffin. “Was Channie- hyung not there?”
Here they go again.
The three of them enjoy a slow day at the flower shop, just talking and keeping the flowers clean and organized.
Minho’s parents retired after he graduated from university, entrusting their small business to their only son. Minho does a good job of keeping it up and running in between his other gigs with his dance crew, the shop being small enough that it doesn’t take more than just Minho, Seungmin and Jeongin to care for it.
Jeongin and Seungmin were originally hired as part timers during their years in university, yet even after graduation, Seungmin was too attached to leave. The stability definitely helped when working freelance as a photographer could occasionally fall short.
Jeongin still has a full year before he graduates and has to make those kinds of decisions. It would definitely be heartbreaking to leave all this behind for good, so he doesn’t spend too much time thinking about it.
As Jeongin and Seungmin prepare to walk home to their shared apartment at the end of the day, they notice the rain quickly petering out into a drizzle and, as soon as Jeongin opens the door of the shop, stopping completely.
Even then, they don’t quite take their time, not sure of when the unforgiving rain of early spring will come back with a vengeance. They are lucky enough to arrive home dry and in one piece.
As soon as Jeongin takes off his shoes at the door, the rain starts hammering against the windows yet again.
The next day, Jeongin misses his alarm. He is woken up by someone softly calling his name instead. His head feels as if it’s about to split in two, his mouth is dry and he winces as he tries to swallow, almost as if he was swallowing sandpaper instead of saliva.
When he finally manages to open his eyes, Seungmin is sitting beside him on the bed, one palm resting on his forehead and the other feeling around his neck and near his collarbones.
“I think you’ve got a fever.” He removes the hand on his neck, but keeps the other one gently cupping the side of his face. That’s when he closes his mouth and immediately opens it again, nasal cavity too clogged to allow for comfortable breathing.
He groans weakly, sitting up and leaning against the headboard as he lets Seungmin adjust his sweaty sleep shirt in order to place the thermometer under his arm.
“You should stay home today, I’ll make you some tea in a few, okay?” Seungmin whispers, holding Jeongin’s hand on top of the blanket.
Jeongin is about to agree and lay back down as soon the thermometer beeps. His entire body aches and feels as if it weighs a thousand kilograms, all he wants is to lay back down and let Seungmin take care of him. But alas, luck is not on his side. He is sure his friends from university would take notes for him if he asked, but he knows that his one unforgiving professor, who absolutely hates him and grades participation, is in his schedule today.
Seungmin offers to email, or even text his professor for him, but Jeongin knows there’s no bargaining with Mr. Park, and he would rather not risk failing a subject on his very last year over a little cold.
His fever ends up being very minor, but Seungmin still fusses over him, making sure he eats breakfast, takes his medicine and wears a mask and warm clothes. “Are you sure you don’t want me to ask hyung to drive you?”
Although Jeongin knows Minho would probably only pretend to complain at such a request, he still rolls his eyes. “He’s busy, I’ll be fine, hyung .”
Despite feeling like his bones are made of soggy bread, Jeongin is fine taking the bus by himself. In contrast to yesterday, the sky is clear and the nice weather embodies early spring perfectly. In a couple weeks it’ll probably start warming up exponentially. He wonders, in passing, if Jisung has also been as unlucky as him and gotten sick from the incident in the rain.
The memories of the previous day are weirdly warm, despite being the obvious cause of his current discomfort. He hopes to meet Jisung again soon.
The day before, as they got ready to close, Jisung had come in yet again. He wore his own dry clothes and returned Minho’s (and Jeongin’s hoodie) perfectly folded up.
Jeongin’s clothes were still damp where they were put to dry, and yet Jisung’s were, strangely, completely clean and dry.
“It was really nice to meet you, I hope we can see each other again!” he had said, smiling brightly as he went out in the rain one more time. That was when Jeongin noticed that his smile is shaped like a heart.
His morning is, in short, miserable. He can’t bring himself to take any notes, the fever medicine making him drowsy and loose limbed, the grating pain in his throat the only thing keeping him from falling asleep against his desk.
Seungmin had told him to take it easy and go straight home for the afternoon, but despite everything, he still takes the bus to work. He knows Minho wouldn’t mind if he did take the day off, but they have quite a few important orders scheduled for today, and he would feel horrible to leave Seungmin and Minho to deal with them all on their own.
“What are you doing here?” Is what Minho greets him with, crossing his arms over his chest. “Aish, didn’t Seungmin tell you to stay home and rest?”
At this, Seungmin walks out from the back with his arms full of the flowers meant for one of their bigger arrangements. “Yah! What did I tell you about overexerting yourself?”
Jeongin smiles sheepishly, walking to the back to put his bag down and retrieve his apron and gloves, ready to start on the arrangements. “I didn’t want to mess with the schedule.”
“Me and Seungminnie could’ve taken care of it just fine without worrying about you dropping dead at any minute.” Minho lectures him, coming up from behind Jeongin and, just like Seungmin in the morning, placing his palms on his forehead and the side of his neck. “You’re still a bit warm.”
“It’s just a cold, hyung , I’m fine.”
They work side by side on the arrangements, but as time passes, Jeongin admits he needs to sit down, his hands shaking too much to allow for precise work.
After a few minutes of sitting at the register, Minho comes to check on him. He takes a long look at Jeongin’s face and disappears into the back of the shop. He looks over to Seungmin for answers, but the older boy simply shrugs.
“Here.” Minho places a thick black cable in front of him. “Chan- hyung forgot this with me, can you take it back to him at the shop?”
“Why me? Can’t you do it yourself?” He whines in response, but Minho is already turning back to the flowers on the table.
“I’m busy. If you need a break you might as well go over there and eat something while you’re at it.” He says, getting back to work. Jeongin whines a bit more but eventually relents and crosses the street with the mysterious cable in hand.
He knows what Minho is doing. He has a black belt in the art of tricking people into taking breaks.
The first thing he notices upon entering the coffee shop is that, this time, there are a couple customers occupying some of the few tables. Jisung is alone behind the counter again, and he turns around as soon as the bell rings.
“Jeongin- ah ! Good to see you again!” He is smiling so wide his eyes turn into little crescents, gesturing for Jeongin to sit facing the counter, like on the previous day. “What brings you here on this fine afternoon?”
Jeongin places the mystery cable on the counter, just like Minho did back at the flower shop. “Minho- hyung told me to give this back to Chan- ssi.”
“Oh! He’s busy in the kitchen, but I’ll tell him as soon as he comes back to the front.” He says as he turns to the side, swiftly ringing up one of the customers and saying a warm goodbye. “Do you want something to eat?”
“Sorry, but I don’t have much of an appetite.” He answers sheepishly, sniffling slightly.
“Oh no, what’s wrong? Did you get sick?” Jisung frowns, leaning across the counter to touch his palm to his forehead. Jeongin laughs, surprised at the action. Jisung’s palm feels warm against his skin.
“You’re the third person to do this today.” He tells Jisung, who chuckles, taking his hand back and looking at Jeongin with a strange expression, as if he’s thinking really hard about something.
“You’re the maknae , It’s natural for your hyungs to worry about you.” Jeongin wants to ask if Jisung is regarding himself as one of those hyungs , not that he would mind, but Jisung is speaking again before he has the chance. “Let me at least get you something to drink. It’ll soothe your throat.”
Jeongin tries to guess what Jisung is making as he works behind the counter, but he isn’t familiar with any of the things he’s picking up, except for the milk.
When he’s done pouring the beverage into a cup, he does that weird thing again. Just holding it close to his body for a few seconds. That’s when a cloud must uncover the sun outside, for the whole shop suddenly becomes a lot brighter for a fleeting moment.
Jisung scoops a spoonful of honey, mixing it into the drink before gently placing it in front of Jeongin, gesturing for him to taste it.
“What is it?” The beverage is pleasantly warm in his hands and, as he inches his mask down and takes a sip, tastes mild and sweet.
“Just warm chamomile milk tea! It should help you feel better.” And feel better he does. The taste is sweet, pleasant, and just like Jisung had said, does a wonderful job of soothing the annoying pain in his throat and warming him up from the inside.
They keep talking as Jeongin slowly sips his tea.
It’s surprisingly easy to talk to Jisung. They seem to click so well, in fact, that he feels as if he could talk to him for hours without getting tired.
Jisung is sliding Jeongin’s phone back to him with his number saved onto it when the door to the kitchen opens and Chan comes in with a tray full of fresh chocolate chip cookies. Jisung looks over, clapping his hands together excitedly, and takes one for himself. He puts the entire thing in his mouth in one go, making his cheeks inflate like those of a little hamster.
Chan laughs fondly, resting the tray on the counter and wiping the crumbs off Jisung’s mouth with the cloth hanging from his apron. “You should really start taking smaller bites.”
Jisung’s response is just a series of muffled sounds, since he’s still busy trying to chew the whole thing, all while looking like a small rodent storing nuts in its cheeks for the winter.
“Jeongin, right?” Chan says, ruffling Jisung’s hair and looking at Jeongin on the other side of the counter. “Jisungie told me you came in yesterday, do you want a cookie? They’re still warm.”
He can’t even think of declining before Chan is wrapping a napkin around one of the cookies and placing it in his hands. Like Chan said, it’s still warm, the chocolate halfway to melting and the dough still soft when he takes a bite. It’s baked to perfection, probably the best cookie Jeongin has ever eaten.
It must show on his face just how much he likes it, because Chan chuckles and smiles at him. “Good, right? Jisungie made them, I just put them in the oven, as usual.”
If these cookies and yesterday’s tart say anything, it’s that Jisung must be nothing short of the god of baking.
Jisung himself, now done chewing, gently picks up close to a dozen of the sweet treats and puts them inside a little paper bag identical to yesterday’s, while Chan starts putting the remaining cookies on display. That’s when Jeongin finally remembers the mystery cable, still sitting in front of him on the counter.
“Ah, Chan- ssi, Minho- hyung told me to give this back to you!”
“Oh?” He looks up, spotting the cable and picking it up. “He didn’t need to rush, it’s not that important.”
As if Jeongin didn’t already know that the cable was just a ploy to get him seated and fed at the coffee shop across the street, especially knowing Minho would never deliberately lose an opportunity to talk to Chan in person, but still.
Jisung closes off and places the paper bag with the cookies in front of him. “Here, for you and your friends!”
But as Jeongin starts pulling out his wallet, which he did remember to bring today, Jisung shakes his head. “Nuh-uh, it’s on the house.”
“I can’t keep eating for free!” He responds, halfheartedly placing his card back in his wallet, already knowing Jisung won’t budge.
“It’s just a gift between friends, okay?” Jisung says, picking up the last cookie from the tray for himself. “I’ll let you pay when you come in and actually order something.”
He shoves the entire cookie in his mouth at once, again. His mouth looks so small, Jeongin has no idea just how he’s able to do it.
“Jeongin- ah. ” Chan calls him as he’s about to open the door to go back to the shop. “Just call me hyung next time, okay?”
“Sure, Bye hyungs !”
Back at the shop, Jeongin goes right back to work. Minho and Seungmin had managed to finish up the biggest of the arrangements while he was gone, but there are still two orders left to be completed.
The cookies offer a boost to their energy, and taking a break helped tremendously. His hands aren’t shaking anymore and his throat doesn’t bother him as much. He doesn’t feel tired even after completing their second order and ringing up the few odd customers.
When they finally wrap up their last arrangement, the light coming from outside is already turning orange with the impending sunset. Seungmin and Minho convince him to sit down at the register while they get everything ready to close, but as Jeongin takes a sip of his water bottle, he notices that his throat barely even hurts anymore.
His body is still vaguely sore, but even his sinuses have cleared up tremendously compared to this morning.
Minho drives them home and stays for dinner. Blessing both Jeongin and Seungmin with a home cooked meal for the first time in what feels like ages.
And as he gets ready to go to sleep, even after he tells him he feels marginally better, Seungmin still fusses over him. Taking his temperature and bringing him cold medicine and a cup of water.
“Wake me up if you need anything.” He says, but Jeongin is already halfway to dream land.
When he wakes up the next morning, it’s like he had never even been sick.
Despite the miraculous boost of healthy energy, his mood quickly goes sour when none other than professor Park assigns the most horrendously in depth research project he has ever laid eyes on. Although he can confidently say he understands the intricacies of his major pretty well, the required readings for this one project alone look so advanced he almost gets a headache on the spot.
As the only education major currently taking this subject from the music department for his combined major, he doesn’t know any of the other students, so he ends up sitting uncomfortably on his own while all of his classmates get randomly paired up.
To his immense relief, when his name is finally called, it’s along with another familiar name. Albeit having never actually held a conversation with the guy, Jeongin is vaguely acquainted with Lee Felix, who is one of Minho’s best friends from his dance crew.
Felix didn’t bother to show up to class, though, so he ends up walking all the way to the library on his own and checking out a pile of complicated books that look almost completely incomprehensible to him.
The next week is spent in a frenzy. The readings are so difficult that he spends hours and hours going over the same passages, to the point where he can’t sleep, tossing and turning all night as he worries about advanced terminology and complicated theory.
He would probably be able to retain more information on what he reads simply by having a good night of sleep, but as it is he barely gets four hours in before he needs to get up and drag himself to class. He doesn’t even care about his appearance anymore, ditching contacts for his bulky glasses and wearing the same sweatpants and hoodies everyday.
The only things keeping his brain remotely online are the hot cups of coffee he starts getting everyday. Once at home, before heading to the bus stop and another at the coffee shop, right before his shift at Minho’s shop. Jisung’s heart shaped smile as he rings him up and carefully hands him his order might as well be the highlight of his day.
The bags under his eyes must look horrendous, because one day, during his afternoon coffee run, before he can even open his mouth to order, Jisung frowns, gesturing for him to sit facing the counter. He melts into the seat, tired body begging for rest.
“Jeongin-ah, are you doing alright?” He asks with a frown. “Are you still sick?”
It’s an innocent enough question, but he can’t help but notice the weird tone. Jisung’s worry sounds a little bit like guilt, tinged with absolute shock bleeding into his features. It’s weird. It’s not like it would have been his fault if Jeongin’s cold hadn’t miraculously disappeared overnight.
Jisung’s sigh of relief when he shakes his head is a bit exaggerated as well, but he finds it endearing. Jisung seems to have grown to care a lot for him ever since they met. It makes him feel warm inside.
“Did something else happen?” He asks again, his little pout making his cheeks look a little rounder. “I know it’s not my business, but that much coffee can’t be good for you.”
He doesn’t know what it is about it, but Jisung’s worry doesn’t annoy him in the slightest. He has told Seungmin and Minho to mind their business countless times over the last few days, and yet he finds himself desperately wanting to trust Jisung.
Jeongin doesn’t think anyone would have the heart to look at his worried round eyes and dismiss him. He knows from experience that it's impossible to deny cute people of anything, after all.
“It’s one of my classes.” He says, taking a deep breath and letting it all out. “There’s a huge project, worth half of our grade for the entire semester, but the readings are so complicated, I keep going over them over and over but I’m so stressed that I get distracted worrying about it and end up not absorbing anything, and all that keeps playing inside my head all night and I can’t sleep because I know that Mr. Park hates me and I haven’t even talked to my partner and– Sorry I'm rambling.”
He feels his cheeks warm up in embarrassment, but Jisung looks like he has been listening intently.
“Ah that’s no good, sleep is really important.” He says with a pout. “I’m sure you’d be able to figure out your readings if you were well rested.”
“Yeah, but every time I try to sleep It’s like just laying down with my eyes closed.” He huffs out, rubbing harshly at his eyes beneath the frame of his glasses.
When he opens them back up, Jisung is opening the pastry display.
“Why don’t you eat something sweet while we talk more about those readings? Maybe I can help.” He says, swiftly plating something that looks like a brownie. When he gets closer to the counter to place it in front of Jeongin, a ray of sunlight that he hadn’t noticed hits him right across the face, abruptly brightening up the depth of Jisung’s brown eyes.
He suddenly feels watched.
Turning around, he sees someone sitting at one of the tables. It’s a stocky young man in a leather jacket. He has a teacup and a laptop in front of him on the table, and his downturned eyes stare directly a Jeongin’s. His intense stare doesn’t falter even as Jeongin meets his eyes.
He turns back around at the sound of a plate gently hitting the counter. Jisung wraps one of the brownies in a napkin and places it in Jeongin’s hands with a smile. He takes a bite and his taste buds light up as soon as the flavor hits his tongue. The dough is as soft as a cloud, the intense chocolate melting instantly in his mouth, but there’s something else as well. A hint of fresh floral beneath the chocolate’s richness, turning them from what would have already been really good, into something unbelievably fantastic.
“Oh my god,” He says before taking a second bite. “What even is this?”
“They’re lavender brownies!” Jisung says with that excited smile of his, jumping up and down in excitement. “Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect!” he responds around another mouthful of the positively divine dessert.
“So, what are you having trouble with?”
Jisung turns out to either be really knowledgeable in the technical aspects of musical didactics, or really great at helping someone go through the motions of making sense of the information in their head. He doesn’t present Jeongin with any new information, nor does he explain anything, or even talk about the subject. Instead, he guides him into vocalizing his questions and finding solutions within what he already knows.
When he leaves, it’s with a smile and a little paper bag with three lemon lavender muffins.
At the door, he turns around one last time, spotting the same guy from before still sitting at his table. He has his laptop closed and a beat up looking book sitting right on top. He looks right into Jeongin’s eyes, and he swears he can feel himself being watched as he crosses the street.
The feeling dissipates once he makes it inside though, and then it’s another slow day at the shop. Minho recounts drama from his dance crew as they work on a few arrangements and ring up the odd client.
He has been so exhausted, and yet it’s one of his most relaxing days in ages. The smell of the flowers is nice and even as the wind is still freezing cold, the sunlight is melting away the last remnants of winter. Jeongin finds himself smiling at Seungmin’s warm laugh and Minho’s soft voice, almost as if he had already fallen asleep, going through the motions of a nice dream.
The sun is setting against the horizon when he and Seungmin walk back home, arms interlocked. They order food and watch the first episode of this new drama. Seungmin asks if they should go ahead and watch the second episode, but Jeongin feels just so tired, so he decides to call it a night.
He forgets all about his books, climbing into bed and melting into the mattress.
He falls asleep immediately.
A few days later, Jeongin finds himself being forcefully dragged to the back of the shop as soon as he clocks in. He tries to protest but Seungmin slaps his hand against his mouth.
He licks his palm, obviously.
But all that Seungmin gives him in response is a scathing look, looking back into the shop where Minho sits at the register, fully absorbed in whatever he’s looking at on his phone, completely unaware of the commotion.
Seungmin pulls his hand away and wipes it directly onto Jeongin’s cheek. He should have seen it coming.
“What’s all this for?” He hisses, lightly punching Seungmin’s shoulder. He would love to be a bit rougher, but wouldn’t exactly look forward to the retaliation.
“You won’t believe what I just found out.” He replies, a smirk making its way to his puppy-like face.
“And what’s so scandalous that you need to rough me up and kidnap me?” He says with a sneer. “I thought you finally snapped and decided to take me to the back to shoot me.”
“You’re so fucking dramatic.” Seungmin answers, rolling his eyes. “The client I talked to this morning, the wedding anniversary guy I told you about. He doesn’t know what he wants at all, so I suggested we reschedule and bring his wife in next time. We were done in, like, fifteen minutes.”
“You restrained me and shoved me against the wall just to talk about your photography clients? That couldn’t wait until dinner time?” He says, crossing his arms and standing straight, ready to leave.
“I’m not done!” Seungmin whisper-yells, pinching Jeongin’s cheek to get his attention. “The meeting was so short that when I got here, Minho- hyung hadn’t even opened the shop yet, so I got to watch him come in.”
“Okay,” Jeongin says impatiently, gesturing for Seungmin to get on with it.
“I saw him park his car and imagine my surprise when the person driving was actually Chan- hyung .”
“No way!” He gasps. Now that is certainly interesting. It’s not like it’s something revolutionary for Chan to be driving Minho’s car, but to Jeongin and Seungmin, any crumb of interaction between the two is the news of the century.
“So they get out of the car and I can’t hear what they’re saying but Minho- hyung starts giggling . Like he does when he’s being gay, you know?”
Jeongin nods enthusiastically, perfectly picturing Minho’s gay little giggle in his head.
“When they walked up to the door I caught the tail end of their conversation and Chan- hyung was talking about going home tonight and sleeping in his own bed for the first time in three days.” Jeongin’s jaw drops down to the floor.
“You’re joking.” But Seungmin shakes his head. He’s dead serious. “And what did Minho- hyung say?”
“I don’t know. I was busy gagging at his horrendous heart eyes, he didn’t even see me standing right there!”
“He’s got it so bad, oh my god!”
“What’s going on here?” They jump apart with a joint yelp. Minho is standing at the door with his arms crossed, but his eyebrows don’t scrunch into his intimidating stare. He looks serene, which is almost creepy in its own right; Minho loves pretending to be angry for fun and profit.
“Oh, nothing, hyung, ” Seungmin says in his most infuriating teasing tone. “Just commentary on you and your secret boyfriend.”
Minho’s eyebrows do furrow then. “And who’s this boyfriend of mine that’s so secret that even I don’t know about?”
Jeongin snorts, it’s his time to shine. “Fellas, is it gay to sleep over at your homie-that-you’re-in love-with’s house for three nights in a row?”
“What if we kissed on Minho- hyung ’s ugly floral patterned couch,” Seungmin adds. “And we were both boys?”
Minho rolls his eyes and sighs.
“You know damn well there’s absolutely nothing between me and Channie- hyung ,” he says. “There was no desecration of my halmeoni ’s perfectly normal-looking couch.”
Jeongin admits that he can’t be certain of Minho and Chan’s exact relationship. What he does know for certain, however, is that Minho’s couch is the ugliest piece of inherited furniture he has ever laid eyes on. Just a picture of that monstrosity could probably liquify all the bones in an interior designer’s body.
He must make a face, because Minho raises his voice again.
“Besides!” He says, picking up the freshly sharpened florist’s shears and going back to the front. “Don’t you little gremlins share an apartment? Should I be assuming you’re swapping spit in there then?”
That causes Jeongin and Seungmin to spring apart with a look of absolute disgust on their faces.
“I would fucking never!” Jeongin yells at the same time as Seungmin says “The day I look at Jeongin like a lovestruck fool you can assume I’ve been swapped and run me over with a car.”
And Jeongin is in agreement. Seungmin’s last girlfriend drank ketchup out of a cup and the boyfriend before that was unironically sexually attracted to Mater from Cars, if he ever looks in Jeongin’s direction like he does to those weirdos he falls in love with, he’ll take it as a direct insult to his character and make sure to be the one to throw him to the wolves.
“And if you don’t quit yapping baseless rumors, the day I’ll introduce your toes to these shears will be today!” Minho grits out, aggressively snapping the shears’ blades closed with a sinister smile.
Despite the threats, Jeongin and Seungmin don’t allow Minho a second of respite in between their teasing throughout their whole shift, safe in their knowledge that Minho loves them way too much to ever hurt them.
He starts ignoring them halfway through the afternoon, blushing ears and twitching eyelids and everything. He even makes a point out of refusing to ask for help to get the flower pots from the shelves he can’t reach, instead reminiscing on his classical ballet training by going en pointe on his tiny sneakers like a showoff and pawing them off the ledge and into his also tiny hands like a devious little house cat.
And little cats remind Jeongin of little hamsters who remind him of Jisung and his pastries, so he decides to let Seungmin take the bus home on his own after closing and crosses the street to the coffee shop that still has the lights on, for a treat.
There are no customers, and they seem to be preparing to close by the way Jisung doesn’t even notice him coming in due to bulky red headphones that he wears as he collects the leftover pastries from the display case while singing along under his breath and doing a little dance.
That’s when Chan turns around from wiping one of the tables and Jeongin is assaulted by the vision of Minho’s favorite hoodie. The gray one with the bunny putting up a middle finger.
No desecration of halmeoni ’s horrendous couch his ass!
“Hi there, Jeongin-ah!” He says with a smile that makes his eyes scrunch up cutely.
“Hi, hyung, ” he says with a wave. “Is now not a good time?”
But Chan doesn’t get a chance to reply, seeing as Jisung seems to finally notice that Jeongin has been standing in the middle of his shop.
“Jeongin-ah!” He yells excitedly, dropping his headphones so they rest around his neck and doing his usual gesture to beckon Jeongin to sit facing the counter.
“ Hyung-ah !” He copies Jisung’s excited tone, making him laugh and pulling a chuckle out of himself as well.
Chan also laughs at their antics. “I’ll clean up in the back while you talk to your favorite customer, then.” He says to Jisung, grabbing the empty trays from behind the counter and taking them with him to the kitchen.
Jeongin expects Jisung to act embarrassed by Chan’s comment, but his smile only brightens as he looks playfully back at Jeongin. “So what can I do for my most favorite customer today?”
“Sorry for coming in while you guys are already closing,” He says sheepishly, laughing awkwardly. “There were some last minute customers at the shop so we closed a bit late.”
“Nonsense,” Jisung replies, dropping a few miscellaneous cookies into a basket where he must have been collecting leftovers of every cookie type, placing it between the both of them on the counter and picking one for himself, gesturing for Jeongin to do the same. “We usually just take the leftovers back home, and since you came in as we were closing, you can take whatever you want for free!”
“Isn’t it bad for your business to keep letting me eat for free?” He replies, already knowing not to argue with Jisung, since he won’t budge on his business decisions.
“Don’t you worry about my finances Jeongin-ssi,” He takes on an exaggerated serious tone, picking up a cookie and placing it in Jeongin’s hand himself. “I would sooner go bankrupt than stop treating my most favorite customer. All the money in the world isn’t worth half as much as a friend’s smile!”
Jisung is such a bright person, so pleasant to be around. They haven’t known each other for very long, but in each and every one of their encounters, he has always treated Jeongin with nothing but warmth and kindness. His heart has already decided to not hesitate in turning to extreme levels of violence in case someone hurts his newest friend. He knows Chan and Minho would do the same.
They talk until all the cookies in the basket have been eaten and Jisung is going about selecting the best of the few pastries left for Jeongin to take home. That’s when Chan comes back into the room to take more things to the back and Jeongin gets reminded of the day’s hottest gossip topic. As soon as the door to the kitchen closes behind Chan, he leans on the counter and gestures for Jisung to come closer in order to extend the gossip net even further.
“ Hyung, what’s the deal with Chan- hyung and Minho- hyung? He whispers. “You know, from your end.”
“You mean because of the hoodie?” Jisung says in a similarly hushed tone, eyes sparkling with mischief. “He’s been in a great mood all day, looking down at it and smiling to himself. It warms my heart to see him so happy.”
“Please tell me he’s at least aware of his feelings for Minho- hyung, ” Jeongin rushes out. “It’s been a nightmare of denial on my end. He’s hopeless.”
At this, Jisung sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose dramatically, before turning back to Jeongin and dropping the bomb. “I love Chan- hyung, I really do, but he’s so oblivious. He has no idea!” He whines. “And if I know him well enough I’d go as far as to say he doesn’t think it’s even a possibility for Minho- hyung to like him back.”
Jeongin can only groan in response to that.
He doesn’t let Minho’s disastrous love life affect his mood, though. He gives Jisung and Chan a warm goodbye and leaves with a bag full of little pastries for him and Seungmin. The days are still short and the nights still cold this early in spring, so the sky is already quite dark when he makes a turn in the direction of the bus stop. He’s still comfortable in only his hoodie, but the temperature will likely drop further into the evening, so he preemptively puts on his coat.
He left the coffee shop just late enough to miss the bus, and since the one he’s supposed to take is only scheduled to pass through his stop once every thirty minutes, Jeongin decides to enjoy the good weather and walk home instead, just slightly cursing the fact that the pastries will probably be freezing cold by the time he arrives.
Seoul never sleeps, and so early in the evening, lights are still on and people are still out and about. Not two blocks from the little commercial alcove where Minho and Jisung’s shops sit, something makes Jeongin stop in his tracks.
It’s a little backstreet he and Seungmin usually take on their way home to avoid rush hour crowds, lined with smaller apartment complexes. And so it’s quite weird for Jeongin to look at this empty street and spot a well lit and taken care of little shop. They’ve taken this path for a few years now, and he swears that the place where the establishment sits squished between two residential units was just a brick wall up until yesterday.
It seems to be a bookstore. The wooden door is painted in a rich royal blue and the small square shop window has nothing on display, revealing a few of the shelves sitting inside behind tall piles of seemingly miscellaneous books that sit against the glass. The shopfront is covered in a vine-like plant that frames the window and the door. The lights are still on and the sign on the door reads ‘Open’.
Jeongin stands across the street from the mysterious store, trying to remember his previous walks along that street and still failing to remember the existence of such an establishment. It doesn’t look new in the slightest and he would have noticed construction in the past few months.
He does tend to get very involved in his conversations with Seungmin on the days they decide to walk home, so he supposes it’s not completely out of the realm of possibility for him to have simply never paid enough attention to his surroundings. After all, he’s prone to getting lost and Seungmin always takes good care of him by paying enough attention for the both of them.
He’s so absorbed in his pondering that he even jumps a little bit when he’s suddenly startled by his ringtone. He fishes his phone out from his coat’s pocket expecting Seungmin to be wondering what’s taking so long, but is surprised when the caller is actually his mom.
“ Eomma ! What’s up?” He looks away from the bookshop, resuming his walk along the street.
“Jeonginnie! How have you been doing?” She asks. “Are Seungminnie and Minho-ya taking good care of you?” His parents have known Seungmin ever since they were both in diapers, but only met Minho after he had already been Seungmin’s junior roommate on campus for his freshman year, when Jeongin took his place for his own first year. Both of his friends have even accompanied him to Busan a few times in the years they’ve all known each other.
He catches himself thinking that his mother would love Jisung if she were to meet him.
“We’re all doing great! Did something happen?” He usually calls his parents at least once a week, during the weekends, and they text in the family group chat frequently, so a random call is pretty unusual.
His mother sighs heavily.
“It’s Myeongie,” She says. “He’s sick again.”
Myeongie is the Yangs’ old family cat. A pretty little white thing with a few spots of black fur on his snout. He used to be a mischievous little chaos agent, running around and knocking things off tables, but also a lovely companion who would curl up on Jeongin’s bed during cold winter nights. Throughout the last few years, though, old age has been wearing him down.
Jeongin remembers the day he became a part of their family. They used to take the train up to Seoul to visit an auntie every weekend. Weekends in which he and Seungmin, his auntie’s neighbors’ kid, would run all around the neighborhood’s playground while their siblings played the older kids’ games. On one of those weekends, during that stretch of the year in which both Jeongin and Seungmin were still six years old at the same time, they went out to play in the morning after a full night of relentless wind and rain, just to find a drenched cardboard box beneath the monkey bars.
Out of the four black and white tuxedo kittens in that box, he was the one with the smallest amount of black spots. He was the tiniest, which was why little Jeongin immediately took a liking to him. As the brightest among his litter, he was aptly named Myeong, which is technically a name for girls, but Jeongin is pretty sure that cats don’t care much for human gender norms, and his parents seemed to agree at the time.
He’s already turning into his own street when he says goodbye to his mother, after a lengthy explanation of the veterinarian’s verdict and a bit of catching up.
Myeongie’s well-being sits heavy at the back of Jeongin’s mind, but dinner with Seungmin helps him cheer up a little bit, especially when they find out that the pastries miraculously retained their toasty warmth all the way home despite the time he spent outside.
A few days later, Jeongin finds himself contemplating the Joker’s mentality.
What if he went insane, toppled over all of those high shelves full of pain and suffering (university books) and got banned from the library for life? Would they call the cops on him? Perhaps they’d even shove him in a room. A rubber room with rats.
“And rats make me crazy.” And that’s Felix, back from the bathroom. Great, his insanity is so advanced that he’s narrating his criminal plans out loud for everyone to hear. Good thing everyone else in this godforsaken library is too busy weighting the pros and cons of shoving their head in a blender to pay any attention to him.
Felix sits back down and sighs. An alarm startles them. Jeongin watches as the guy with the yellow hoodie who has been crying for five minutes at a nearby table turns it off, immediately composing himself and going back to his homework as if nothing happened. Isn’t that a mood.
The spark of hope Jeongin felt when Felix finally reached out to him about getting a move on for their project has all but fizzled out. Felix is still the same friendly man he was when they exchanged greetings a couple times among all of Minho’s friends, but his cute face and energetic personality can’t exactly help him academically, and as it turns out, he’s even more of a lost cause than Jeongin at Mr. Park’s subject, having randomly picked it as a last minute elective for credits, with no impact on his dance degree.
The sadistic old man probably did it on purpose. Pairing up the two of them just to laugh from the sidelines, watching as they suffer and fail together.
The rotten cherry on top of his misery cake starts on a Saturday. He’s in Felix’s dorm room on campus, books strewn about and a completely blank word document mocking them from the huge screens of the fanciest gaming setup he has ever laid eyes on, cramped on that tiny dorm desk. They managed to painstakingly take a few notes, but nothing good enough to get them started on the outline, hence the empty document.
Feeling as if they’re about to have a breakdown and start throwing things, they decide to give it up for the day. Felix starts messing with his streaming software on the computer and Jeongin starfishes on the bed. The click clack of the keys helps to lull him into a frustrated nap.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he comes to with the noise of furious typing nagging at his mind. He tries to search for his phone on the bed where he dropped it but realizes he’s stuck in a very tight blanket burrito. It’s weird, because he doesn’t remember seeing any blankets on Felix’s bed besides the fluffy baby blue comforter that, upon further inspection, is still beneath him.
He struggles against his restraints but it feels absolutely suffocating, impossible to move his arms as if the blanket was actually a straitjacket. He opens his mouth to speak but can’t seem to formulate a coherent sentence.
Looking over to the desk he can see Felix’s back, hunched over the keyboard as the LEDs on his setup change color so quickly and shine so strongly that he can feel a headache coming. Felix has the word document open on all four of his monitors – though he could swear there were only two screens before – and he’s typing so fast that Jeongin can’t even make out the words, paragraphs and paragraphs materializing into existence right in front of his eyes. He can’t quite see the exact number, but the page count seems to contain four digits.
“ Hyung- ” He manages to say, but it comes out so weak that he can barely hear his own voice.
Felix’s hands still as he stops typing.
A misplaced spike of panic slithers through his body and he’s suddenly reminded of how uncomfortably warm and tight his blanket prison is. He tries to free his arms again but it’s like the blanket has no edges whatsoever.
When Felix turns around in his chair, it squeaks so loud that Jeongin wonders whether it’s about to break into pieces, but he doesn’t have any time to process the noise when the person in the chair makes eye contact with him and he finds himself staring at professor Park, who levels him with a disapproving glare.
“Jeonginnie,” Mr. Park says.
He wakes up with a start, gasping out a breath and immediately choking on it.
There is a new blanket on top of him, but this one has edges and a cute pattern. He’s not even curled up enough for it to bunch around him, much less trap him into an unwilling burrito. Felix must have noticed that he fell asleep and covered him up like the angel that he is.
“You good?” He looks at Felix, who has rolled to his bedside still in his desk chair. “You were calling for me in your sleep. Unless you meant another hyung ?”
“I’m going fucking crazy.”
That turns out to be a major understatement.
See, Jeongin’s life is admittedly pretty calm. His university career is almost done, He is best friends with his boss and makes enough to live comfortably in the company of a roommate that he also loves. All of his friends are good, trustworthy people and his family life has always been pretty uncomplicated.
Going fucking crazy, however, can derail even the simplest of schedules.
What if he lost the ability to do his job correctly and messed up every single order until Minho lost his cool and actually yelled at him? What if he forgot to do all of his chores and was a dick to Seungmin about it everyday? What if he was late to the bus stop every morning and had to figure out increasingly ridiculous routes to campus? What if he accidentally toppled over the newspaper display section of the library and got himself and Felix banned for a full week?
Sounds like a nightmare and looks like Jeongin’s unfortunate reality.
It seems like when your brain decides to put so much energy into getting worked up during the parts of the day dedicated to being unconscious for a moderately long period of time, it loses the capability to function when it’s actually supposed to.
Mr. Park in Felix’s dorm room was only the tip of the iceberg, and right now the Titanic is already broken in half and sinking to its grave in the midnight zone.
Last night the university library was a giant maze of identical shelves so tall that they stretched infinitely to the blackness above. Jeongin had to keep running and hiding from ever approaching librarians who chased after him while scrambling to choose books at random, but every time he managed to open them, he was either confronted by Felix’s baby pictures, Josh Hutcherson Whistle video, or lines of blurry text that he couldn’t read.
The night before that, he was forced to livestream their presentation on Felix’s Twitch channel directly from his living room while not only Mr. Park, but also his parents and Seungmin, watched in silence from the couch. Their research was nonexistent and he wasn’t even wearing clothes, uncontrollably babbling nonsense while trying to keep his junk out of the frame of the camera.
And the night before that it was the day of their project’s conclusion presentation and Jeongin was late. He ran through campus as if running through molasses, putting immense effort into each stride and never arriving at his destination. Every time he managed to make it to a classroom, Felix was there to tell him that there was a last minute location change and the class would be held somewhere else, so he had to take off running again.
Tonight, Jeongin wakes up in a foul mood. It’s still dark outside and he’s out of breath, his heart is beating too fast and one of his pillows fell to the floor. He’s so wet with cold sweat that he panics for a second, convinced he actually peed the bed. He groans and throws his Pochamii plushie across the room, watching as she hits his desk lamp and brings it down to the floor with a crash that’s too loud for the silence of the night.
He feels even worse when he makes out heavy footsteps and a knock on his door. Seungmin pushes it open regardless of his lack of response and stares at him from the hallway.
“It’s four in the morning, what’s your problem?”
It seems like being an asshole to Seungmin for no reason has its consequences. He usually puts his worry for Jeongin’s well-being above his inconvenience, but apparently he’s had enough. Seungmin is just angry.
“Did you fucking throw this?” He feels even more like a piece of shit when Seungmin carefully picks Pochamii up from the floor. It’s his favorite plushie because it came in a set with a matching Pochacco counterpart that Seungmin treasures. And he just launched it across the room with no second thought.
Seungmin is still obviously pissed off – and rightfully so – but he can probably figure out that Jeongin is going through something and didn’t just decide to be a dick on purpose. He sighs before lightly throwing Pochamii back to the bed and sitting on Jeongin’s desk chair.
“What’s going on?”
It has always been a bit difficult for Jeongin to open up to Seungmin, who despite having always been his best friend, was also a hyung that he admired and looked up to as they grew up together. Logically, he knows that the way Seungmin demonstrates his care for him shows through obvious nurturing gestures, meanwhile Jeongin reciprocates in a more standoffish way that he may or may not have inherited from Minho.
Still, in his worst moments he can’t help but feel childish and pathetic, as if he’s burdening his friend with his issues. But to be fair, listening to a bit of complaining will definitely bother Seungmin a lot less than the horrid way Jeongin has been treating him in his frustration.
“I can’t stand these nightmares anymore.”
Seungmin sighs and his expression softens. He picks up the desk lamp (miraculously unbroken) and places it back where it belongs before rolling the chair closer to the bed. “So that’s what’s been going on with you? Nightmares?”
Jeongin only nods, rubbing his face harshly.
“What are they about?”
As he recounts today’s terrifying byproduct of his subconscious, it starts to sound a bit hilarious.
The flower shop was a boxing ring and Minho with Mr. Park’s face watched from behind the register as Jeongin and Felix fought to the death. Felix had a sword and Jeongin didn’t even know how to use his hands. He was naked in this one too, dodging certain decapitation while trying to angle his privates out of sight of the cheering crowd squeezed into every nook and cranny of the shop.
Now that his brain isn’t releasing the chemicals responsible for anxiety and distress while convincing him that this bizarre situation is somehow real, he can admit that it’s a really funny concept. Seungmin seems to agree, covering up a laugh with a very unconvincing cough.
As funny as it is, Jeongin is still exhausted from the many nights of poor sleep and in an irritable mood. He jumps out of bed to rip his pajamas off of his body and get rid of the sweat’s damp stickiness. Seungmin must have left while he changed, because he’s alone in his room when he’s done buttoning up a fresh sleeping shirt.
He picks up his phone from the ground where he apparently managed to knock it off the nightstand in his sleep alongside one of his pillows and throws himself back into bed. The screen isn’t damaged, but upon turning it on, Jeongin notices a few pending notifications.
Felix was also kept awake by the horrors of their project, seeing as he was texting him links to obscure research papers and increasingly deep fried pictures of crying cats until half an hour ago.
Jisung had also texted late at night. Upon opening their chat, he finds a link for a documentary and many pictures of aquatic fauna. He can’t help but smile as he scrolls through pictures of jellyfish with little comments referencing whatever information Jisung had thought that Jeongin would personally enjoy as he watched.
If Jeongin was a video game character, Jisung’s texts would work as a stamina boost. He doesn’t go by those stupid unspoken rules of proper texting, spamming Jeongin’s phone with pictures and scientific facts on whatever documentary he’s currently watching, sending cute animal pictures whenever he sees them on the internet and sharing random weird thoughts sprinkled with tidbits of his daily life.
Jeongin scrolls all the way down to the last picture of a cool looking jellyfish that Jisung refers to as Turritopsis dohrnii, also known as the immortal jellyfish. That’s when he looks up at a change of the lights in his peripheral and spots Seungmin walking back into his room with their favorite mug.
“It’s chamomile,” Seungmin says, carefully placing the tea on top of the nightstand. The tea was already a surprise considering how irritated Seungmin had been with his behavior, so Jeongin fully expects him to leave to his own room before he can even thank him. But instead, Seungmin climbs over him on the bed and curls up under the blankets with his back to the wall.
“Thanks,” He mumbles, “Sorry for being an ass.”
“It’s okay.” It’s Seungmin though, so he doesn’t leave it at that. “Bitch.”
When he takes a sip of the tea, it’s warm and sweet. It doesn’t fill his body with an all encompassing warmth like the beverages Jisung makes with his expert barista hands, but it still cheers up his heart. Seungmin’s gesture of making him tea despite being understandably annoyed at him gets him breathing easy with a sense of safety.
The text on that ridiculous mug also gets a genuine smile out of him. It was supposed to be a cheesy “World’s Best Boss” custom mug for Minho, but Jeongin and Seungmin managed to input the information in the wrong section of the website and ended up with a white mug saying “World’s Best Bottom Text Here” instead. They had to keep it.
Seungmin doesn’t have anything scheduled for the morning so Jeongin turns off his alarms, deciding to sleep in alongside him and skip whatever classes are in his schedule as well.
He can’t really go back to sleep though, drifting in and out of consciousness, slightly aware of his surroundings such as the increasing brightness of the room, the texture of his blankets against his skin, the noises of the awakening neighborhood and Seungmin’s breathing right beside him.
The extra rest, although not very efficient at getting rid of his overall persisting exhaustion, does offer a slight boost of energy as well as an improvement to his mood. They both leave early for work since Jeongin doesn’t have to spend extra time commuting all the way from campus, so he leaves Seungmin and Minho to their usual bickering and crosses the street to drink freshly brewed coffee and learn about jellyfish directly from the source.
Jisung must have done his own obsessive research after becoming interested in this particular documentary, for he has an abundance of interesting facts about species in the Medusozoa subphylum to share. Even Chan joins the conversation from time to time, seeing as very few customers come in at such a time, giving them an excuse to linger around the counter to keep talking.
Jeongin is learning about the Nemopilema nomurai, also known as Nomura’s jellyfish (according to Jisung) when the bell over the door chimes. Jisung is so absorbed in the conversation that he only realizes that someone entered the shop when both Jeongin and Chan turn their heads to watch as Minho makes his way in.
“There you are,” He says in that whining tone he uses when pretending to be more irritated than he really is. “You took so long I started wondering if Jisung kidnapped and locked you up in the basement.”
Chan starts giggling like the lovestruck fool that he is (Seriously, it wasn’t even funny. If he keeps that up Jeongin will have no choice but to cringe in second hand embarrassment) as Jisung turns around to look at the clock right above the large coffee machine with wide eyes.
“I’m so sorry for keeping him, hyung, ” His expressive eyes go even rounder along with his apologetic tone. If Jisung looks like that every time he sincerely apologizes, Jeongin will have no choice but to forgive him for anything. Even murder, perhaps. “We lost track of time, I was just really excited about this documentary. You know how I get.” He laughs awkwardly.
“It’s no problem Jisungie, I’m just joking,” Minho says with a slight smile that widens up as his eyes slide from Jisung and back to Chan. He’s so obvious it’s almost disgusting. “Now I have an excuse to get some of these mini pavlovas.”
Ah yes, the pavlova. The famously Australian dessert and Chan’s signature addition to their spring menu. Minho is so down bad it hurts. Even Jisung notices the implications, quickly reciprocating Jeongin’s exasperated look in order to confirm his suspicions.
They keep quiet though, watching as Minho pays for three of them and hands one over to Jeongin. As long as he keeps getting free dessert, he won’t complain about the ridiculous pining. And the mini pavlova is divine, as expected.
Overall, it’s a pleasant day at work despite Jeongin’s persistent inattentiveness. Minho doesn’t even say anything about his zoning out, probably preferring a little distraction over the chaotic destructiveness of the previous days’ mistakes.
The lack of disasters eases his mind and allows him to painstakingly take a few substantial notes for the project. Felix looks them over and makes a few additions that allow them to start a very simple outline. It’s not much, but they finally make enough progress to convince Jeongin that they’re not completely lost anymore.
The day goes and the night comes. Jeongin rests easy, expecting his breakthrough, even if minuscule, to allow him to get over his funk.
Except tonight he’s a tiny jellyfish in a giant pool with a bunch of divers who are all Mr. Park and also trying to grab him by the squishy bell he has for a head. He keeps swimming through the thick water that doesn’t let him through, dodging from hands that aren’t afraid of the sting of his tentacles. Jisung is also there, sitting at the shallow end that looks so far away. Jisung is safe, so Jeongin tries his hardest to make his way to him but the hellish pool stretches infinitely and there’s always someone to dodge from and–
He doesn’t wake up abruptly this time, instead slowly recognizing his senses one by one while still stuck in the dream until he finally opens his eyes. It’s a lot less dramatic but not any better than shooting up in a panic and gasping for air.
He’s pissed off when he swallows a mouthful of cold water from the fridge and goes to sneak into Seungmin’s bed for another one of those useless naps until it’s time to get up, and he’s pissed off when his professor keeps changing the slides before he’s finished taking notes, and he’s even more pissed off when he accidentally drops a handful of loose potting soil at the shop and then Minho is pissed off because his constant glaring is making the customers uncomfortable.
Seungmin clocks out early for an appointment with some client, so it’s just him and Minho at closing time, when Jeongin manages to step on his untied shoelace and trip him up. Minho falls hard on his knees and reassures Jeongin that it wasn’t his fault, but his light wash jeans are all dirtied up from the floor they didn’t yet clean and he’ll probably bruise, so that’s just great.
So everything sucks and he’s exhausted and hungry. Feeling defeated, he drags himself across the street and doesn’t even announce himself as he sits on his usual seat by the counter, head in his hands.
The weather is good enough for the door to be kept open and Jisung has his back turned, so with no sound to indicate his entrance, it takes a couple minutes for him to even notice that Jeongin has been sitting there.
“Jeongin-ah!” He says in his usual excited tone, but quickly notices the obvious dark cloud that must be following Jeongin around. “Everything alright?”
“Can I have a vanilla steamer?” He asks so softly it’s almost a whisper, still looking down.
“Coming right up!”
Even a beverage that is essentially just hot milk and syrup tastes splendid when made by Jisung, apparently. Jeongin sighs in relief at the mild sweetness, wondering just how bad he must look, because Jisung is still eyeing him up worriedly.
“Jeongin-ah, are you feeling alright?” He asks in a soft tone.
“Don't worry, hyung,” He answers. “I’m just tired.”
Jisung gets that mysterious thoughtful look in his eyes. “Are you having trouble sleeping again?”
“No, it’s just…” He sighs, finishing his drink in one last gulp and rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “I keep having these ultra realistic nightmares and waking up exhausted.”
“Oh, that’s no good.” Jisung replies with a pout. “Unregulated anxiety and stressful situations can be responsible for frequent nightmares, is there something constantly wearing you out during the day or do you think it’s your head that isn’t in a good place?”
He doesn’t know what’s so different about Jisung’s concern, but it makes him feel safe and cared for instead of weighted down with inadequacy.
“It’s that dumb project again.” he spits out with another sigh. “In the dreams, I’m always trying to complete that damn thing or run away from my professor. You were even there last night!”
“I see.” Jisung looks at him as if analyzing him and Jeongin feels slightly guilty, knowing there’s no way for Jisung to help him out of this situation, yet he’ll probably try anyway. “What was I doing in your dream? Was I chasing you down too?”
It’s a bit embarrassing to recount how Jisung was his notion of safety in the throes of his subconscious, but it does feel good to talk about it and let it all out. And soon enough he’s describing all of his crazy dreams, making them both laugh at the absurdity of the scenarios while launching into conspiracy theory mode and trying to analyze the weirder details.
“Oh!” Jisung interrupts their laughter. “Are you hungry? I think I have something you’ll like.”
And Jeongin is absolutely hungry and in the mood for something absolutely wonderful as is usual for everything offered to him by Jisung, so he waits a little bit as his friend goes into the kitchen to get something especially for him.
Jisung comes back with a moderately thick slice of bread and Jeongin watches as he slathers it in whipped cream out of all things. When he takes a bite, though, he instantly understands. This is obviously not just regular bread, the dough is soft like a cloud and tastes extremely bright and sweet but also so fresh with a slight herbaceous lemony taste. It’s incredible.
“What flavor is this?” He can’t help but let the awe drip into his voice.
Jisung smiles at him with a twinkle in his eye. “It’s lemon verbena bread! I made sugar butter cookies with the leftovers, so we have that in this flavor too!”
So it’s with a little bag of those fantastic lemon tea flavored cookies that he makes his way home in an unhurried stroll.
At the very tail end of March the nights are still cold, but the lovely subdued light of golden hour paints everything in lively watercolors as the wind ruffles the life that’s almost ready to bloom in even livelier hues. And as the sun starts properly setting and bleeding its wonderful oranges and pinks over the landscape, Jeongin feels almost as if transported back in time and to some of his warmest memories.
Seoul is so big, and Jeongin hasn’t even lived here his whole life, but as he lets his eyes linger over his path, he realizes that the little corners in between home and work and the places of his childhood are a lot more lived in than he could have imagined, holding many pieces of his and his friends lives.
There’s the park where he and Seungmin used to play on the weekends. Where he used to try and eat the contents of the sandbox, to his parents’ absolute horror. The monkey bars beneath which they found Myeongie and where Seungmin bruised his tailbone for a failed dare when they were nine.
A little ways away there’s the convenience store where he and Seungmin would buy instant noodles in bulk since neither of them could cook, still living in the cramped dorm rooms of SKKU, where they shared a single bed for two months when Minho unofficially moved in with them for the first bimester of his senior year due to problems with his roommate at the time.
The little ice cream shop whose owner and only employee is an Indonesian grandma is still up and running. It used to be Jeongin’s favorite because their strawberry ice cream was different from all others. It was also where his older brother used to flirt with the owner’s very uninterested granddaughter who visited during the summers and where Seungmin cried his eyes out over his first breakup at the tender age of thirteen.
There’s the very colorful club Minho took them to when Jeongin turned nineteen. Minho called them his babies, bought them fruity drinks and told them to be responsible, acting like a proud older brother up until his sixth drink when he disappeared with some guy on the dance floor, came back to pay for another two rounds of tequila shots and needed to be carried out of the premises before throwing up all over the sidewalk and crying over the concept of stray cats.
The neon sign of the noraebang establishment down the street has three letters that don’t light up anymore. Room eight of that building witnessed Jeongin, Felix, Chaeryeong and Ryujin’s increasingly ridiculous serenades to each other just last Saturday.
The sun is almost disappearing over the horizon, cold blues blending in with warm reds and oranges, when Jeongin spots the little crepe shop that Jisung recommended a couple days ago. He isn’t really hungry after the bread and the cookies, so he doesn’t even consider stopping. Maybe they can come together and he can ask for recommendations.
These streets and alleyways, old and new establishments, parks and playgrounds, they hold so many parts of him. Moments and memories shared between new and old friends, people he still loves and those he’d rather forget.
Their little commercial alcove and the idea of this crepe shop are where Jisung sits in the map of his memories, and he can’t help but wish to go beyond, to share his old memories with him as well as make new ones. What other places can they make their own? What memories can be added to this collection of recollections of his favorite places?
Jisung is a new friend who Jeongin can’t help but wish stays in his life for a very long time. And he’s suddenly feeling very sentimental so he tells him that through text, imagining his sweet heart shaped smile.
He loves Jisung’s smile and his warm laugh. Loves Seungmin’s teasing and his caring gestures. Loves Minho’s endearing strangeness and how happiness looks on his beautiful face. Loves Felix’s affectionate touches even though he pretends he doesn't and loves Chan’s friendly disposition despite not knowing him very well.
When he falls asleep, he doesn’t dream.
He can’t wait to see them again tomorrow and everyday of his life going forward.