Chapter Text
Today was a good day.
Jongho slept in and woke up at noon with the apartment all to himself since his roommate, Yunho, had already gone to work.
When he turned on his phone, there were unread emails from his inbox about the sales of a few paintings — the more expensive ones — that had been sold on his website, and he received a text message from Hongjoong, who had managed to sell one of Jongho’s paintings to a rich client who was willing to pay a lot.
With newfound motivation, Jongho leapt right out of bed to package and seal the artwork to get them ready for shipping.
For the first time in ages, he could finally use the bubble wrap that was hidden in the depths of his closet, untouched and coated in dust.
Jongho blew the dust away and ended up having a coughing fit, secretly glad that Yunho and Mingi — Yunho’s boyfriend who kept on sleeping over but didn’t chip in on the rent — were gone and wouldn’t be there to see him choke on dust and, knowing them, record it then upload it to social media for the entire world to see.
Jongho finished wrapping up the paintings quickly and folded up some boxes to put them inside of, sealing them shut with tape.
It was quiet, the way he enjoyed things. It was rare to see the living room empty without Yunho and Mingi sitting on the couch playing video games on the television, or both of them sprawled over one another doing their own things with Yunho playing mobile games and Mingi blasting music into his headphones.
Taking out his paints from the closet, Jongho set his canvas and wooden stand up in the living room to start painting at the spot which looked out of the floor to ceiling windows. Outside, he could see the streets and buildings which showed what the city looked like, but the best part was how the sun or moon wouldn’t be obstructed by the skyscrapers.
Seeing the outside views gave Jongho inspiration about what he could draw. When he wasn’t drawing based on observation, the views gave him a peace of mind. It was a strange way of relaxing, but it was a way to relax nonetheless.
Jongho didn’t feel like drawing the apartment’s views since he had done that countless times before and walked around the apartment looking for something — anything, really — to paint.
He wandered into Yunho’s room and immediately sneezed upon entry. Something was itching his nose. Eyes beginning to water up, he could barely see anything with the tears that had welled up in his eyes. Jongho wiped the tears away and finally spotted the bouquet of flowers that was lying on the floor in front of him. He sneezed again, tiny balls of spit flying everywhere.
Who in the right mind would leave flowers in the doorway?
Jongho didn’t even think and kicked the bouquet away so the intoxicating scent wouldn’t make him sneeze again.
Flowers. How he hated flowers.
Jongho was allergic to flowers, every single type of flower. It wasn’t so serious that he would sneeze whenever he went outdoors or somehow die, but his allergy got provoked every time he got too close to them and it irritated him.
There had been multiple occasions when Jongho received flowers as a gift or even as a confession from a girl in high school. Every time, he sneezed in their faces, and they all backed away from him. Jongho recalled the confession going wrong, not because he had rejected the girl, but because he ended up scaring her off by blowing snot all over her.
Those were all embarrassing moments and Jongho wished they hadn’t happened. Instead of hating his allergy, which only made him feel worse about it, Jongho decided to simply hate flowers themselves and whoever tried to approach him with flowers in hand. Why hate something when you can just hate the cause — and of course, the people who gave them?
His flower allergy. That was why he hated flowers. Not because Jongho actually hated them, but because it was the next best thing he could hate without feeling bad about himself.
Making a mental note to scold Yunho for putting flowers wherever he pleased, Jongho slammed the door behind him. That ruined his mood. He didn’t feel like painting anymore. He just wanted to get out of this place and get some fresh air.
After getting changed into exercising clothes, Jongho started to head out. When he saw Yunho’s car keys on the dining table, he snagged them for revenge and made a plan on having a joyride.
That’s what Yunho would get for having flowers. It was a petty move, but Jongho wasn’t the type of person to care about that.
He went downstairs and found Yunho’s car in the garage. He got in and found Yunho’s sunglasses in the cup holder, which he put on. Checking his reflection, Jongo had to admit that he looked pretty good and fastened the seatbelt. With one hand on the steering wheel and a foot on the gas pedal, Jongho sped off, almost driving the car straight into a pillar.
Before going to the gym, Jongho stopped by the local post office to ship off the paintings before procrastination won over. He deliberately parked at a no parking spot since he was still holding a grudge against Yunho. It was Yunho’s car. Whatever happened to it, Jongho didn’t really care, and Yunho was too nice to break ties with him because of that — Yunho had to pay a ticket once, and it was expensive, but he easily forgave Jongho. Maybe Jongho was being a bad friend, but that was how he kept the fun in his life and the lives of Yunho and his boyfriend, Mini. In some way, they appreciated his antics.
He smiled at the mailman as he entered. “Hey, Daehwi, I have some new things to ship,” he said, balancing three packaged paintings on the counter.
Daehwi returned the smile. “You managed to sell three paintings?” he asked, taking the boxes.
Jongho nodded proudly. “All in one night. One from Hongjoong’s gallery and the other two from my own online store.”
“Good for you, Jongho,” Daehwi said with an excited nod. “You’re going to the gym?” He waved his hand at Jongho’s tank top and his shorter-than-usual shorts. “You don’t have to flex your biceps and those leg gains at the gym, you know.”
“So you agree that I’m ripped,” said Jongho, a cheerful lilt to his voice.
“Yeah, you are, but it just surprises me since you’re just a… painter.”
“I have to balance sitting around painting and exercising,” replied Jongho with a shrug. “I’m going with Hongjoong today. Well, I’ve got to go, before Yunho’s car gets towed.”
Daehwi grinned. “It will get towed sooner or later if you keep on parking in that spot. I guess I’ll see you around, then — hopefully soon. That would mean your artist business is going well.”
Jongho waved goodbye to Daehwi and returned to the car. It hadn’t been towed away and there wasn’t a single ticket tucked behind the windshield blade.
His phone buzzed. It was from Hongjoong and Jongho replied, telling him to wait patiently as he headed over.
A few traffic lights, honking others, and getting honked at later, Jongho pulled over and saw Hongjoong standing on the street outside his gallery. He had dyed his hair again from strawberry red to blueberry blue. There was something about Hongjoong and getting fruit colored hair. Jongho rolled down the car window.
“Hongjoong,” he called, lowering his sunglasses. “Nice hair.”
Hongjoong flipped his hair and took a sip from the straw in his Stanley cup. “It suits me, doesn’t it?”
Jongho shrugged. “If you mean it makes you look like a blueberry, then yes. Nice bottle, blueberry boy. I see you’re busy catching up to the trends. How much did this regular old coffee cup with a straw cost?”
Hongjoong looked away like he was embarrassed. “More than it should have, and it’s just like any other thermos bottle. Don’t get a Stanley. Just drive, don’t call me blueberry boy, and stop being annoying.”
“I’m always annoying, blueberry boy,” Jongho said. He watched as the light turned green and stamped hard on the gas. He grinned when Hongjoong lurched forwards in his seat and yelped, only halfway into buckling the seatbelt. It wasn’t like he would fly out of his seat.
When they arrived, Hongjoong agreed to follow Jongho’s routine. They ended up having a productive time, although Hongjoong was suffering for the most part. He could barely keep up with the workout routine, which had too many pushups, situps, and burpees to count.
“This is so tiring,” breathed Hongjoong, lying down flat on the floor. His shirt was stuck to his chest with sweat. “Since when did your bodyweight workout routine get even harder?”
Jongho flashed his sweet gummy smile at Hongjoong, but if anyone knew him, it was anything but sweet. “Since today,” he said, jumping up to hang on the pullup bar. “We’ve barely started. Let’s go!”
Hongjoong stood up slowly with a groan. The pops from his spine and joints were audible and made Jongho wince. “I’ll just spot you. That was tiring enough for me to finish a session.”
He ended up helping Jongho with his workout until the entire routine was over. It turned out that Hongjoong was only a bit more than halfway into the first set of three when he gave up.
With his final ounce of strength, Jongho pulled himself over the bar, lowering himself slowly before letting go even though his muscles were searing from the strain like his musicl. He swung his hands back and forth and wiped his sweaty palms off on his shorts.
“And I’m done,” he said breathlessly. “What time is it?”
Hongjoong glanced at his phone for the time. “It’s almost four. We can grab a bite.” He handed a towel to Jongho. “Get changed and we’ll go.”
Jongho took the towel gratefully, drying his hair which was slicked back from the sweat and hung it around his neck. He walked over to get his backpack from the locker he rented. Looking around, Jongho saw that nobody was looking. He pulled the sweaty tank top over his head and wiped his upper body dry with the towel, putting the clean hoodie from his bag on.
Hongjoong coughed. “There is a changing room, you know.” He sighed. “I’ll forgive you since you’ve been working hard on your body. I see that six pack.”
“And those pecs,” Jongho added, puffing out his chest. He grinned at Hongjoong, who rolled his eyes. “If a stranger isn’t looking, it’s fine, and far as I know, you aren’t a stranger.” He stuck out his tongue at Hongjoong and slinged the backpack over his shoulder. “I don’t need your forgiveness.”
“If I didn’t have to see that, then I would want to be a stranger,” muttered Hongjoong, stalking behind Jongho, who quickened his pace and ignored him. Hongjoong tried to catch up to Jongho. “You should listen to your elders. Choi Jongho, I’m talking to you! And stop flexing your abs at me. I get it, okay?”
They sat down at a coffee shop that was next to the gym for a quick drink. Jongho ordered for both of them, since he felt bad that Hongjoong couldn’t really do his workout — yes, Jongho was petty, but he wasn’t a heartless person. He just enjoyed making fun of people, even though he did admit that he sometimes went overboard.
Jongho stuck the straw into the opening and stirred his iced Americano with a bit of vanilla extract — he loved the scent of vanilla. When he saw Hongjoong taking photos of his pink and blue, frappuccino, constantly switching angles for aesthetics or whatever, Jongho wrinkled his nose in distaste. He didn’t like sweet things either. Jongho was team bitter all the way, and he took a sip from his drink, savoring the bitter aftertaste. It was extra refreshing after a tiring workout.
“I have to get back to the gallery soon,” said Hongjoong, wiping away the whipped cream that was smeared on his bottom lip with a napkin. “Mingi is covering up for me and he isn’t the greatest salesman.”
Mingi and Yunho met through mutual friends. Hongjoong introduced Mingi to Jongho, who in turn introduced Mingi to Yunho. They soon became best friends and their friendship developed into something more.
Mingi alternated between Hongjoong and Jongho’s apartment, spending time in either one whenever he felt like it. Nowadays, Mingi spent more time by Yunho’s side, so Jongho had to put up with Mingi’s stupidity a bit too often for his liking, though it was endearing at times.
With Mingi’s big mouth and how he ran his mouth before thinking, it would be no surprise if he talked about everything he did with Yunho. What if Mingi was the one who gave the flowers to Yunho? Still unable to let go of what had happened that morning, Jongho decided to ask Hongjoong.
“Hey, did Mingi give flowers to Yunho by any chance?” he asked, putting down his cup on the table.
Hongjoong shrugged. “He told me about it all morning. Mingi said that he woke up early to get a bouquet for Yunho at Utopia, the popular flower shop in the news articles and magazines. I’ve heard that the employees there are handsome.” He raised his eyebrows at Jongho. “What, did Yunho or Mingi leave flowers lying around to provoke your allergy?”
Jongho sighed. “What do you expect? It isn’t the first time. Maybe I’m just being petty or something, but it’s just so annoying whenever that happens. Yeah, it’s a minor inconvenience in my life, but I’ve told them so many times that they could get flowers if they wanted to, but not to leave them around.” He shook his head. “It’s not like I’m banning them from getting flowers. I’m just creating the best of both worlds, if you will. They can get their flowers, and I can live without an itching nose.”
“I get you,” said Hongjoong after a long sip from his frappuccino. “Mingi left the flowers there. He said that he left flowers in Yunho’s room once Yunho had left for work so it would be a surprise.” He widened his eyes when a string of curses escaped Jongho’s lips. “Don’t get so angry just yet. Mingi only had good intentions. He just wanted the fragrance of the flowers to reach Yunho straight away. You’re his friend. He didn’t do that on purpose.”
“Well, Mingi is a little slow sometimes.”
“So don’t blame anyone,” continued Hongjoong. “Tell them to be careful. I know they have the brain capacity of a goldfish, so just… threaten them, I guess. Tell Yunho that you’ll break his custom Spiderman gaming console if he does that again, and tell Mingi that you… won’t bring him to the karaoke again and you’ll ban him from singing ballads.”
Jongho laughed at the thought of their reactions. They would believe it. Yunho always lost his common sense when it came to video games, even if it was an empty and completely unrealistic threat. He seemed to forget that Jongho was his best gaming buddy and loved that gaming console just as much. As for Mingi, he was gullible, and that’s all there was to make him believe the threat.
“I’ve tried it before, but it won’t harm to try again,” Jongho said as he stood up. He grabbed his drink. “Let’s go. We can talk more in the car. You have work and I have to wash up.” He rolled his eyes. “And I have to warn Yunho. Mingi, too, if he decides to drop by.”