Archive of Our Own

Wooyoung remembered the first time he saw Hongjoong. Freshly hired at the university with fire in his eyes. It attracted Wooyoung to him like a moth to a flame. It was the “I’m going to save the world one creative writing class at a time!” that really set it in place. A sort of rebellion that he reflected in his cropped blond hair and his painted nails. He had somehow fooled the higher-ups at the university about being a respectable literature teacher, but when they realized that he was a man on a mission, it was too late.

It was a few months shy of a year since Hongjoong had wandered into Wooyoung’s restaurant like a starved zombie. And like any stray, you feed them once and they always come back. He had come in search of sanctuary from his students who seemed like they were determined to take up every minute of his free time.

While the restaurant was near the university, it wasn’t exactly popular with students. Wooyoung had taken over when his parents could no longer handle it. It wasn’t his life plan to drop out of college his first year and suddenly be thrust into the role of a business owner like a bad drama plotline. It certainly didn’t pay like one, either.

The outside of it wasn’t as trendy as some of the newer establishments that were popping up, the ones that were made for the younger crowds and Instagram photos. His place did have a unique charm to it, one that the older generation admired because it reminded them of when they were young, or the occasional hipster who wanted something off the beaten path.

But he had plans.

And what happened to those plans? Well, he was still working on them. It was difficult to make changes with his father still back-seat directing on how he thought it should be run. Hongjoong was Wooyoung’s youngest regular. The rest were his father’s age because they were in fact his father’s friends and if he did anything slightly out of the ordinary, it would get back to his father at the speed of light.

But if they didn’t make changes, it didn’t matter if Wooyoung took over. Profit wasn’t exactly in Wooyoung’s vocabulary, and while he wanted to honor tradition, he knew it wasn’t going to get them anywhere successful.

He wanted to be a good son, but being a good son was setting him up for failure, one way or another.

Hongjoong was a good son based on the stories he told. It was something Wooyoung was trying to wrap his brain around. Being who his parents wanted him to be while on his own terms and to have wiggle room in their admiration for him. Unconditionally.

Though, Wooyoung found Hongjoong easy to admire. He was a good listener, introspective, and the way he laughed was like looking directly into the sun.

Jongho teased him relentlessly for it from his spot in front of the hot stoves in the kitchen. “You should just ask him out if you spend all day sighing about him.”

“I’m not sighing about him.”

“Yes, you are,” Yunho chimed in from where he was sorting clean utensils.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “It would be inappropriate. He’s a customer.”

“If you snooze, you’ll lose,” Jongho said as he plated a serving of galbi. “Order up.”

Wooyoung snatched it with a glare before he went off to serve the one table they had occupied.

He hated to admit that he couldn’t stop thinking about what Jongho said. But like any premonition, it came in a way he wasn’t expecting it.

Hongjoong came in one day with a handsome guest. He had a dazzling smile that was bookend with cute dimples that almost didn’t fit the broad shoulders and large biceps that were trapped in the cotton turtleneck he wore.

“Wooyoung-ssi, this is Choi San, he’s a professor at the school too,” Hongjoong introduced him with a quant smile. His usual dark circles were a little lighter than normal, he must have gotten sleep for once.

“Nice to meet you.” San reached out to shake Wooyoung’s hand. “Hongjoong has told me a lot about you.”

Wooyoung was stunned, but he still shook San’s hand. This man would have normally been his type, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the size difference between him and Hongjoong. There should have been something reassuring that Hongjoong talked about him in his ordinary life, but it was bypassing Wooyoung completely.

“Nice to meet you, too. Thank you for coming in.” Wooyoung swallowed the lump in his throat. “Please, sit anywhere you’d like.”

Hongjoong pointed to his normal table and urged San to go sit with a tiny hand on his shoulder. Then, he reached out with his other hand and gently tapped Wooyoung’s forearm. “We have another one coming, if that’s okay?”

“Of course it is.” Wooyoung smiled. He wanted to clip the wings of the butterflies in his belly. “I’ll bring three waters right away.”

Hongjoong’s eyes scrunched as he smiled. “Thanks.” He slipped away and joined San.

Wooyoung trudged back to the water station only to notice Yunho and Jongho both staring in the direction of the table. He paused and narrowed his eyes at them. “Staring is rude.”

“Sorry.” Yunho shook his head. “But goddamn. I’m no equestrian, but I’d ride that stallion any day.”

Jongho sputtered and had to disappear behind the counter so Hongjoong and San couldn’t see him when they turned and looked. Yunho shamelessly winked and waved with his fingers, which got Hongjoong to wave back. San blinked awkwardly but smiled sheepishly before looking back at Hongjoong.

“Stop it!” Wooyoung hissed.

Yunho laughed, but he tried to be a little more polite by muffling it with his hand. “Sorry, sorry. But a beautiful human is a beautiful human, I can’t deny it.”

“At least do it a little quieter,” Wooyoung grumbled as he set three glasses on a tray. “Horny bastard.” He lifted the tray and left his coworkers behind as he went over to their table.

“Thank you.” Hongjoong pulled off his elbows and looked up at him. “I was just telling San that your mandu are to die for.”

“Oh?” Wooyoung raised his brow as he set the glasses down. “Is that your way of saying you’d like an order?”

“Yes, please.”

“You boys got it. Anything else for right now?”

“Nah, we’ll wait for Yeosang to get here, thanks Wooyoung-ssi.”

It made Wooyoung’s heart ached when Hongjoong looked at him like he was the only person in the world. He stood there smiling at him like an idiot for a solid thirty seconds before he realized his eyes felt dry from not blinking.

“Alright, one order coming up.” He laughed shyly before quickly turning to run away to the kitchen window.

Jongho had apparently heard since he was already preparing them in the kitchen, but that meant he probably heard everything else. Yunho gave him an expectant look, which Wooyoung sneered at.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Yunho glanced away and whistled.

“Your face speaks for you. I don’t care how handsome it is, it gives you away.”

Yunho looked at him with sparkling eyes. “You think I’m handsome?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes and tried to move on. But he had never known peace a day in his life.

The door rang and Wooyoung looked back over his shoulder. He knew who the man was before Hongjoong called out to him. Yeosang was another beautiful man with a doll-like face, with long black hair that was pinned behind his ear with a silver barrette. It seemed like Hongjoong only knew beautiful people.

It made him want to shrivel. His hair hadn’t been washed in a few days and he was sure he smelled like cooking oil, dark circles were ever-present under his eyes and his skin had been struggling with a few breakouts despite being in his thirties. He paled in comparison.

Yunho saw it as his opportunity to pounce, and he slid up to the table quickly. Wooyoung didn’t need to hear their conversation to know that Yunho was, in fact, flirting. His hip cocked and he held his hands in front of him, knowing his pretty hands always managed to get him attention.

“I need to find out what subjects they teach and change my major.”

Wooyoung looked up at Jongho, who was peeking out again. “You’d never learn anything if all you’re doing is gawking at them.”

“Or I’d learn so well I’d be number one in the class and they’d give me special attention.” Jongho winked playfully. “But you know what, you’re right. They probably get flirted with by their students all the time. They probably can’t flirt back, because of ethics and all that. The same ones you’re holding yourself to, apparently.”

“Well, maybe students flirt with them all the time, but not handsome chefs.” Wooyoung playfully wiggled his eyebrows at him.

Jongho tilted his head. “Why can Yunho and I flirt, but it’s a big deal for you too?”

“It’s different for me. I’m the owner.”

“I know our food is good, but do you really think that’s the only reason he keeps coming back here?”

Wooyoung’s playful expression fell from his face as he stared at him. He didn’t get to think of it too hard, since Yunho came back up, fanning himself with his notepad.

“I love being bisexual,” he fawned.

“Why?” A clink came from where Jongho accidentally hit a plate on the counter and his eyebrows shot up in concern. He glanced over to see if anyone noticed but quickly looked away when he noticed Wooyoung staring.

“Because a man that beautiful needs to be swooned over, I don’t care what your sexuality is. That is a face to go to war over.”

“Alright, Achilles, order up.” Jongho set the steaming plate of dumplings on the counter for the server to take.

“You got it, sweet cheeks.” Yunho winked at him as he snagged the plate. His hips swayed as he walked with a confidence that Wooyoung only saw when they were perusing the nightclubs for a good time.

“I know it’s time to get him laid when he starts flirting with me.” Jongho sighed when he disappeared behind the window again.

“Seems like he doesn’t need our help in that department.” Wooyoung stopped and looked at him. “Wait, you two have slept together?”

“And?”

“And shouldn’t you take one for the team again if he’s so insufferable?”

”You called him insufferable, not me.”

“What’s insufferable?” Yunho asked, suddenly appearing by their sides again.

Before Wooyoung could answer, Jongho cut him off. “Wooyoung-hyung’s self-induced suffering.”

“I’ll fire you.”

“Do it.” Jongho took the ticket when Yunho held it out to him. “You’d miss me too much.”

“You sure about that?” Wooyoung asked, flatly.

“Yes, now stop talking to me so I can do the thing you pay me for.” Jongho waved him off as he grabbed a few utensils to start.

Wooyoung sighed and pushed away from the counter, however, he didn’t expect to crash directly into someone. Hongjoong let out a surprised squeak as he fumbled to catch his glasses before they fell. His glasses, and his hands, were caught between his and Wooyoung’s chest as Wooyoung grabbed hold of his wrists on reflex. They stayed pressed together, unmoving until they realized his glasses were safe.

“I’m sorry!” Hongjoong exclaimed. “I was just going to the bathroom and I didn’t think you’d turn around that fast!”

“No, I’m sorry! I should have been paying attention.” Hongjoong was so close that Wooyoung could see the texture of his skin. Smooth except for a few little bumps along his sideburns that Wooyoung would have never noticed if they weren’t so close. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Hongjoong twirled his glasses in his fingers but didn’t pull out of Wooyoung’s hold. He leaned his head forward to put his glasses back on, only to flatten his palms against Wooyoung’s chest.

Wooyoung’s breath caught in his throat, and while he didn’t want to, he had to step away so Hongjoong couldn’t feel the way his heart was racing. “Good. Your glasses look expensive.”

“Don’t worry, I thrifted these frames. I just get new lenses for them on the rare occasion my prescription changes.” Hongjoong adjusted them with attitude, happy to show off his frugal glasses.

“Thrifted? They do that?” Wooyoung tilted his head.

“Remember how my friend Seonghwa owns a thrift store?” When Wooyoung nodded, Hongjoong continued. “They’re not something he gets often, but he said they were my style so he saved them for me.”

They were only a simple black square, but still shiny and glossy after however many years it’s been. On anyone else’s face, they would have swallowed them up, but they sat just right on him. Except for when Wooyoung was knocking him off.

“They look good.”

The corner of Hongjoong’s lips lifted into a small smile, and Wooyoung swore he saw his cheeks turn pink. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” They fell silent as they stared at each other. Only when he heard a sharp clang of a pan hitting the stove did he realize how silly they probably looked. “Uh, bathroom? I mean, weren’t you going to the bathroom?”

“Oh! Right, thanks.” Hongjoong stepped around him, sneaking a squeeze of his bicep as he passed.

Wooyoung watched him with a dopey smile, kicking the toe of his shoe into the ground as he rocked his knee in the air.

“Oh my God,” Yunho said as he passed by. “Just start twirling your hair while you’re at it.”

“I’m firing you too.”

🍽️

“What’s the topic this time, professor?” Wooyoung asked as he set Hongjoong’s plate of japchae on the table.

“I challenged them to go to a public place. A café, a park, the train, anywhere, and write about the people there. I just wanted them to let their imaginations run.” Hongjoong moved his work over to make room for the bowl.

“That’s interesting. What kind is that kind of exercise supposed to do?” Wooyoung tucked his tray under his arm.

“Just gives them room to explore. So much creativity comes from just observing. But also, it’s fun to fantasize.” Hongjoong motioned for him to sit in the chair across from him, so Wooyoung did. “Have you ever looked at a couple and wondered what they’re like? Is one more dominant than the other? Do they have kinky sex even though they look vanilla? What was their first date like?”

Wooyoung smiled. Hongjoong’s view of people seemed so optimistic. He wondered if his writing sounded the same way, or if that was a place for him to sort through his darker thoughts in a conductive way.

“What if they have boring observations, though? How do you grade simplicity?” Wooyoung asked.

“Simplicity has its place in the world. So, I tend to grade it based on what its purpose is. Is it doing what it set out to do? If so, who am I to grade it poorly just because it’s simple.” Hongjoong shrugged. “Like your restaurant. It’s simple, but it has some of the best food I’ve ever had.”

With a click of his tongue, Wooyoung waved him off. “Kiss ass.”

“What! It’s true!” Hongjoong laughed before finally picking up his fork to start eating. One of Wooyoung’s favorite things was how Hongjoong held his fork so he could jab at his food instead of scooping it up.

“I think about automating things. You know, most places go and you can enter it through a phone. And maybe English menus.” Wooyoung tapped his chin dramatically as he thought.

“I could help you translate if you wanted,” Hongjoong offered.

“You speak English?” Wooyoung raised a brow.

Hongjoong nodded with a confident smile. “Yup. I mean, I’m not perfect, but I’ve heard I’m pretty good.”

“Oh? By all your foreign students?” Wooyoung smirked.

“Yes.” Hongjoong flashed his teeth as stuck his straw between his smiling lips. “And Mingi but he’s biased so I don’t know if I trust him or not.”

“From what I’ve heard about Mingi, he would tell you to your face to never speak English again if you sucked.” Wooyoung watched the tip of Hongjoong’s tongue stroke the straw and his heart nearly stopped.

“The only English he knows is how to cuss people out because of the games he plays with San and Yeosang.” Hongjoong set his glass back on the table. “But don’t worry, I would take good care of your menus.”

“I think that would bring some of the younger crowd in. Probably some of the international students, too. But ugh, I can only hear the complaints from my parents.”

“You should just do it.” Hongjoong had told him one late night. “What’s he going to do, disown you? You own his restaurant.”

“They might stop talking to me.” Wooyoung didn’t want to look at the stack of bills anymore, so he looked at Hongjoong’s face instead.

“They only bitch at you now, so would that really be a loss?” Hongjoong was busy grading papers as he always was. Wooyoung didn’t know how he did it. Reading and talking, comprehending and rationalizing.

“Just because you’re a hermit and you hate everyone talking to you.” Wooyoung nudged him with his foot under the table. “Why you became a professor is beyond me.”

“That’s not true. I love talking to people.” Hongjoong set his pen down and looked him in the eye. “I especially like talking to you.”

Wooyoung blushed but was mesmerized enough that he didn’t look away. “You just make it sound so easy.”

“You gotta start small. A seed can grow into something enormous right?”

At that point, they had only known each other for a few months. Hongjoong’s hair had grown, the dark roots of his natural color were longer than the blond. He swept it back off his face and kept it as professional-looking as possible.

His glasses sat low on his gorgeous nose while he smiled up at him and it was enough to make Wooyoung feel inspired.

“You give a lot of good advice, do you know that?”

Hongjoong waved a hand in front of his face as he shook his head. “I only give the advice I wish I could take myself. You give me too much credit.”

“Why don’t you then? You trust it enough to give to others.”

“Well…” Hongjoong’s lips pursed. “A seed is easy to plant, right? What’s hard is nurturing it. I’m not a patient person, I want it to be a tree now and I want it to be perfect. Perfection doesn’t truly exist, but it still has a name and still has a definition. It has an expectation and meeting expectations are terrifying. So, I don’t even try so I don’t fail.”

Wooyoung blinks in stunned silence. It was too heavy of a thought to have on a Tuesday evening, even if he was the one who had started the conversation. “You should write a book with big thoughts like that.”

Hongjoong laughed. “Ironically enough, that’s what I'm struggling with.”

“You’re writing a book?”

“Trying to. I guess I just lack inspiration.” Hongjoong tapped the tip of his pen against one of the papers as he leaned back in his chair. He stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankle out from underneath the table. “I’ve started and discarded about three times now.”

“What’s it about?”

“It’s kinda boring. Love, sincerity, human connection. Things like that.”

“The things we desire the most in life.”

Hongjoong smiled like he wanted to share a secret, but couldn’t. “I think it’s one of the things we fear the most.”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we never experience it? What if we do, and lose it? Or what if we finally find it, and it’s fake?”

“That sounds… like life to me.”

“And life is terrifying, isn’t it?” Hongjoong uncrossed his legs, only to take notice of his watch. “I’m sorry, it’s nearly closing time for you, isn’t it?”

Wooyoung, much more alert than he was before, rolled his wrist and looked at his watch. “Twenty ‘til. Man, that last hour flew by.”

“You’re welcome.” Hongjoong chuckled as he began to pack his things. “I’ll get out of your hair so you can start cleaning.”

“You know I don’t mind.”

“I don’t want to become that annoying customer that keeps you here later than you need to be.” He stood as he slid his laptop and his folders into his briefcase. “But I appreciate you letting me ramble a bit. It’s nice to let some of that out and not be met with the bored faces of my students.”

Little did he know, Wooyoung was incapable of thinking of him that way. Any other person who stayed within twenty minutes of closing was automatically an enemy, but not Hongjoong. Smart people tended to make him feel dumb, but not Hongjoong. He could sit for hours and listen to every philosophical thought he had, no matter how big or small they were.

“You’re fine,” Wooyoung assured once more. “I like listening to you.”

Hongjoong looked up at him with twinkling eyes. Wooyoung thought about leaning in, just to see what Hongjoong would do. But then a thump came from the kitchen that made both of them look over.

“You okay?” Wooyoung called out to Yunho who was kneeling on the floor, rubbing the back of his head.

“Y-yeah. Just dropped my pen and smacked my head on the counter.” Yunho stood and gave a sheepish smile. Wooyoung didn’t see a pen on the ground, but he ignored it for the time being. “You heading out, Hongjoong-ssi?”

“Yeah. I probably won’t be back for a few days. Have some exams coming up that I’ll need to be a little more available to the students for. Don’t miss me too much!” Hongjoong slung his bag over his shoulder and gave Yunho a wave.

Wooyoung walked him to the door. “Good luck. I’d offer to help if you needed it, but I’d be useless.”

“The thought is still appreciated.” Hongjoong chuckled as he walked out, spinning on his heel to look at him. “But that’s what I have Mingi for.”

“Ah, your mysterious teaching aid. Bring him in sometime, I’d like to meet him.”

“I think he’d like that. I’ll bring him after exams, okay?” Hongjoong smiled. “Be careful getting home.”

“You too.”

Neither one moved for a long moment. Everything stilled in the city. Wooyoung couldn’t hear a single car, no rustle of leaves in a gentle breeze, nor the heavy thump of Yunho stacking the chairs on the tables inside. It was just him and Hongjoong.

“Goodnight,” Hongjoong said softly before he turned away.

The sound of his heels clicking on the sidewalk brought Wooyoung back into himself, but he stayed in the doorway and watched him. On occasion, Hongjoong looked back over his shoulder and laughed when he saw Wooyoung still watching him. Only when he had disappeared around the corner did Wooyoung finally slink back inside.

The lock fell heavily in place as he sighed.

🍽️

At first, Wooyoung hadn’t realized who it was so he called out, “We’re closed.”

“Then why is the door unlocked?”

He perked up when he saw Hongjoong standing at the door like a wet cat. Only half the dining room was lit and it made the shadows deeper under the sharp features of Hongjoong’s face.

“I was waiting for you.” Was he really? Or was he hoping?

“Oh?” Hongjoong smirked as he stabbed his umbrella into the rack by the door. “You better get a mop ready because I’m soaked.”

“Hang your coat up. I’ll plug in a heater for you, I think I even have some sandals or something in the back you can wear while your socks dry out.”

“What, you gonna put my socks in the dumpling steamer?” Hongjoong laughed.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he rounded the corner. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m gonna bake them.” He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, but he came back with a few more things than just the sandals. He dropped them in front of him before he took the towel he had slung over his shoulder. “I’ll put everything in front of the heater, hopefully, that’ll dry everything off in time.”

He flopped the towel onto Hongjoong’s head and started to ruffle his hair. Hongjoong let out a tiny ack and reached out to hold onto him so he wouldn’t accidentally get knocked over with his turbulent towel rubbing. They stayed silent as he dried his hair, but then Wooyoung’s hands came to a slow stop.

“Are you okay?” Hongjoong looked up at him as the towel slid back just enough for him to peek out of.

Wooyoung blinked and finally, their eyes found each other. “Yeah, sorry. Your lips, they just look…” He wondered if they were as cold as the rest of him was.

Hongjoong reached up and ran a finger over his bottom lip. “They what?”

“Nothing.” Wooyoung cleared his throat as he took a step back, offering a second towel. “Give me your shoes and socks so I can try to dry them off.”

“You know, someone out there would pay me good money for this,” Hongjoong said as he bent over.

“Better start recording then.” Wooyoung snatched his shoes when he kicked them off. “Damn, these are expensive looking. Hope they’re not ruined.”

“Oh, I got them secondhand.” Hongjoong pulled his sock off and slipped into one of the sandals. The water made a squeak against the material and he blushed.

“At your friend’s shop?” Wooyoung took his socks as well before he wandered back to where he was sitting. At the base of the table was the portable heater plugged in under the booth. He laid them out flat on the ground with a wet plop.

“Yeah, he tries to save the best stuff for me.” Hongjoong squeaked his way over to the table and sat down so he could towel off his feet. The moment he got close to the heater, he shivered, as if he didn’t realize how cold he actually was.

“I’ll do my best to save them then.” He placed his shoes a little farther back from the heater. “Want anything to eat?”

“But haven’t you shut everything down?” Hongjoong held his feet out toward the heater and hummed softly at the warmth that traveled through him.

“No worries. It’ll be easy to clean up.” Wooyoung ruffled Hongjoong’s wet hair as he passed by.

“How’d you know I’d come?” Hongjoong leaned into Wooyoung’s hand, nearly falling off the chair in an attempt to follow him.

“Cause you always do.” Wooyoung smiled from over the counter as he washed his hands in the sink. “You look like a cat by the way. Like when they stretch out and show off their little beans.”

“Their beans?” Hongjoong twisted in his seat to look back at him.

Wooyoung blinked. “Yeah? Their little toe pads? They’re toe beans! How are you a literature professor and yet you don’t know about toe beans?!”

“I’m sorry that I’m not caught up on my cat lingo.”

“I’ll forgive you only because you’re cute.” Wooyoung slipped his headband from his pocket and pushed back his hair. “How does fish cake soup sound?”

“Heavenly,” Hongjoong moaned and Wooyoung had to take a deep breath.

“Well, I may not be able to turn water into wine, but I can make water into a fishy broth.”

“That sounds better than wine, anyway. Wine gives me a hangover.” Hongjoong took the liberty to pull up a stool to the kitchen window and folded his arms so he could rest his chin on them.

“Joining your students for wild drinking parties?” Wooyoung smirked over his shoulder as he retrieved a few of the ingredients from the nearby pantry.

Hongjoong let out an exaggerated ‘pfft’ before he spoke. “I come here to hide from them, you really think I’d go partying with them?”

“I don’t know, you look young enough to fit in with the crowd.” Wooyoung grabbed a pot and filled it with water. He huffed as he carried it over to the stove. It wasn’t very heavy, but it was heavier than he anticipated. He hadn’t planned on making as much as he was, but he’d send leftovers with Hongjoong if he needed. “Do you mind packaged fish cakes?”

“Not at all. It’s how I prefer them, actually.”

“You say that because you haven’t had mine yet,” Wooyoung said with a scolding finger wag.

“You make your own?” Hongjoong tilted his head and his wet hair shifted out of his pretty eyes.

“Yeah, my mom always insisted on it. But, sometimes if I’m lazy or if shipments are late, I’ll use prepackaged. Most people complain that homemade ones are too plain anyway.” Wooyoung dumped anchovies in a large tea infuser and dumped it and kelp into the pot.

Hongjoong gave a gentle hum. “Do you need any help?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

“Do you want any help?”

Wooyoung stopped cutting the radish he had under his hand and looked up at him. He only asked if he wanted help, but he was stuck on wanting, as he always was. He wanted to reach over and stroke the bead of water that was trailing down the sharp line of Hongjoong’s jaw. He wanted to take him between his hands and tilt his head back so that his eyes would flutter close like an old doll. He wanted to kiss him until neither of them could breathe.

But Hongjoong wasn’t asking that.

Wooyoung forced a tiny head shake despite the rust that was threatening to take over his spine. “No, thanks. Just focus on getting warm.”

Hongjoong tried to hide his sly smile beneath the towel. The look was almost too sweet for the kind of mischief he was trying to pull off. For a moment Wooyoung thought about putting some music on, but he somewhat enjoyed the calming silence that had fallen between them. It felt domestic, a peak of a life Wooyoung longed for.

“Hongjoong-ssi.”

“Mmm?” Hongjoong purred like a cat waking up from a warm sun nap. He lifted his head and blinked lazily.

“Why are… “ Wooyoung’s pride took a step back as the words found their way to his tongue. “Why do you spend most of your evenings with me instead of...”

“Instead of a partner?” Hongjoong finished for him.

Wooyoung told himself that the heat he felt in his cheeks was from the stove as he nodded.

“I told you, I like talking to you.”

“But… Is that all?”

“Wooyoung-ssi,” Hongjoong whispered gently as if he was speaking to a scared animal, trying to coax it out of its safe place and out into the open.

“Yes?” He responds like he’s been trained for it. His head lifted and he gave Hongjoong his full attention.

“Is there something you’re trying to talk to me about?”

It was a life raft in the storm that was trying to swallow him up.

He needed to replace the kelp with radish, but he couldn’t get his hands to move. He took a quick glance down to make sure his hands hadn’t melted against the stove, but when he found they were perfectly fine, he grimaced.

His mouth opened and a tumble of word soup fell out. It dribbled down his chin and down his shirt until he finally could shape something correctly.

“No. I just don’t see why anyone would do that. I’m not very interesting to talk to. In fact, I don’t think there’s really anything interesting about me.”

He swerved one door and went straight to another across the hallway. He nearly ripped it off its hinges in an attempt to get away from discussing what he was hinting at. The fact that Hongjoong seemed to be picking up what he was putting down told him he was avoiding it as well for a gentle letdown. But when trying to hide one side of his neck, he accidentally exposed the other.

“Do you really think that about yourself?” Hongjoong sounded heartbroken and Wooyoung was glad he finally found the strength to resume cooking so he didn’t have to see the face that accompanied it.

“I’m a college dropout with a failing restaurant because of unresolved daddy issues.” He chuckled as if that would lessen the blow of his reality. His shaking hands managed to fish out the soggy pieces of kelp with tongs, then dumped the cubes of radish in. He was careful to not let the hot liquid splash on his skin.

“That’s not how I see you.”

“How do you see me?”

“Someone who’s selfless. Someone who has sacrificed a lot for those he loves.”

Wooyoung’s mouth went dry. “I-I need to get the fish cakes.” He was stupid. Why hadn’t he gotten them from the start? Then, he could have stayed and listened to the poetry of Hongjoong’s thoughts.

He didn’t wait for Hongjoong’s permission before he ran away to retrieve them from the fridge. The cold air sent a shock through his body and it allowed him to suck in a deep breath. He could do this…

When he came back, he was afraid that Hongjoong would look disappointed that something as simple as fish cakes ruined the moment of sincerity, but he didn’t seem bothered in the least. He had slid out of one of the sandals and tucked his foot under his thigh, probably to try and warm it up even if his pants were damp. His hair seemed to be drying, but the semi-bleached strands were beginning to frizz with humidity.

Hongjoong didn’t say anything to him as he washed the fish cakes under hot water, only lifting his head to look in the direction of the noise. If he had a tail, it would have been flicking lazily.

He cut the fish cakes into perfect strips, then, took wooden skewers so he could weave the strips onto them in pretty waves. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hongjoong shift on his stool. He switched the foot that was tucked under him and Wooyoung couldn’t help but stare at the way his eyelashes fanned over his cheeks.

A sharp prick radiated through his finger, and he let out a quick, “Ow!” before he yanked his hand back after the skewer jabbed his finger. He hadn’t been paying attention when he stabbed the fishcake through, and it was a dumb rookie mistake that he hadn’t made in years. The blood bubbled to the surface and he quickly backed away from the counter.

“Go clean that.” Hongjoong got up from his stool and quickly made his way over. “I’ll do this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Go, go.” Hongjoong waved him off. “I can manage a few fish cakes on my own.”

Wooyoung hesitated for a moment, but there wasn’t much of a choice for him. He stopped by the office first to grab the first aid kit before going to the bathroom. There wasn’t a lot of blood, but there was just enough to make everything inconvenient. After one rinse with soap, it was clean and looked to have already stopped bleeding. He still put a dollop of antibiotic cream before he wrapped it in a band aid.

At least he hadn’t taken the tip of his finger off, or something. That would have made for an incredibly interesting night.

He wandered back out to the kitchen and opened his mouth to apologize once more when he stopped. Hongjoong had the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he focused heavily on weaving the long strip of fish cake onto the skewer. Except, even from a distance, Wooyoung could tell they were incredibly crooked. He noticed only one completed skewer, which looked messier than the first. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the giggle that threatened to escape him.

“How’re you managing those skewers?” he asked as he walked over.

“This shouldn’t be this hard,” Hongjoong groaned. “I guess this proves I can’t do anything straight.”

Wooyoung snorted. “Here, I’ll show you.” He came up behind Hongjoong and wrapped his arms around him. He took Hongjoong’s hands in his as he puppeted how to thread the skewer through.

They were almost the exact same height, though, with Wooyoung in his shoes and Hongjoong in flat sandals, it gave them only a fraction of a difference. His hands were smaller, daintier. Prettily shaped nails and a birthmark on the back of his left hand.

Hidden under the smell of the boiling broth, Wooyoung was able to catch the subtle hints of Hongjoong’s cologne. Something citrusy, but with a sharp spiciness to it. He caught himself inhaling it, his nose nearly brushing Hongjoong’s ear. Hongjoong must have heard him because his hands went lax in Wooyoung’s hold.

He turned to look at him over his shoulder, careful to not move too fast. His eyes stayed downcast, and for a moment, Wooyoung let himself believe.

A loud crack of thunder stuck outside, making both of them jump. Hongjoong’s head connected with Wooyoung’s face and the skewer in his hand went flying across the kitchen.

“Oh my God!”

If there was a God, he had a cruel sense of humor.

Wooyoung held the sore spot on his cheek and blinked. His eyes were watering, not that it hurt that bad, but the shock of it rattled him well enough. “I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry!” Hongjoong reached up to take his head in his hands. “Let me see! Did I get your nose?”

“No, no. Just my cheek.” Wooyoung removed his hand to show him.

“Oh, good. Your nose is my favorite part of your face.” Hongjoong’s shoulders relaxed as he inspected his face. “You’re red, but I don’t think it’ll bruise.”

Wooyoung smiled, which made him wince. “Who knew making fish cakes would be such a contact sport?”

Hongjoong laughed, showing off his pretty teeth. “I’m sorry. I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”

“It’s okay, professor. I can handle it from here.”

“Says the man who stabbed himself.”

“Coming from the man who can’t skewer a fish cake.”

Hongjoong pursed his lips and let go of Wooyoung’s head. “I don’t do this for a living, thank you very much.”

“Right, right.” Wooyoung stepped around him to grab a glove from the prep station. “I was just warming up earlier, let me show you how it’s done.”

Hongjoong found his way back to his stool. A smile had found its way back to his face as he watched. Wooyoung worked silently to avoid any other accidents. Once he was able to focus, he was able to finish within ten minutes. He tossed in the last ingredients and then served it with a side of rice that he warmed up in the microwave and a handful of chopped-up green onions on top.

It was too much work to bust out the table warmers for just the two of them, so regular bowls would have to do. He made them sit at a table in the dining room because the last thing they needed was burned palms while trying to hold the hot bowls.

Hongjoong let out an obscene sound when he took the first bite. “This is amazing. How have I never had this before?”

“Because, you little carnivore, only eat the dishes with meat in them.” Wooyoung smiled softly as he watched Hongjoong tear at a fish cake with his sharp teeth. “It may be too simple for you.”

“But sometimes simple is the best,” Hongjoong spoke with a cheekful, his lips shiny with broth.

Wooyoung hadn’t bothered to take a bite yet. He felt full already.

He hoped it rained more often.

🍽️

Hongjoong’s hair was back to black. It was shiny and healthier looking than when it was blond, but it had grown so much that most of the damaged strands had grown out. He had gotten tired of the mismatched tips and reshaped it into a stylish mullet. The day he walked in with the new style almost had Wooyoung drop to his knees.

He never had a thing for eyebrows before, but seeing Hongjoong’s darkened brows stirred something inside him. Staring was a problem he always had, but he had gotten worse. Yunho liked to walk by and swipe his elbow out when he had his chin resting in his hand. He said it was an attempt to teach him some manners but that Wooyoung was too thick-skulled to get it.

It had been a busier day than normal. His dad’s old military buddies stopped by, which always came with complimentary shoulder claps and the guilt of giving them the family-friends discounts since it was just standard at that point. As always, Wooyoung gave them a free round of beer, because that was cheaper than giving an actual discount, but still kept up the illusion. It kept them busy for a couple of hours, and luckily, they finished right before the normal time that Hongjoong wandered in. Wooyoung was incredibly thankful that once he got Hongjoong his usual, he was able to slump down into the chair across from him to try to reset.

Besides the sound of Yunho washing dishes in the back, and Hongjoong typing on his computer, the restaurant was nearly silent. It allowed Wooyoung’s thoughts to wander.

“A piano.”

“Huh?” Hongjoong looked up from his laptop, his wire-framed glasses slipping down his nose.

“Owning a piano would be fun.” Wooyoung’s gaze wandered to the opposite side of the room. “Every time I see one, everyone is always having a good time with it.”

“Do you even play?”

“A little. My mom showed me before her arthritis kicked in.”

“What about a keyboard?”

“It just wouldn’t feel the same. I know it would probably be more practical but I like the feeling of a piano more,” Wooyoung chuckled to himself for a moment. “Plus, ever since I saw Pretty Woman it’s been my dream to have sex on a piano.”

Hongjoong spat.

“I don’t have room for a grand piano though. So an upright one will have to do.” Wooyoung glanced around the empty dining room. “I want this to be a place where people can create.”

“Create what?” Hongjoong asked as he dabbed the water off his chin.

“Anything. Everything.” Art, memories, laughter, joy; Wooyoung wanted to be the epicenter of it.

“I like that idea a lot,” Hongjoong’s foot bumped Wooyoung’s leg under the table. He had been a little touchier, which at first made Wooyoung’s heart stop, but he had gotten more used to it. If he drew attention to it, Hongjoong would pull back, and he didn’t want that.

“You brought up human connection once, and I think about it a lot.” He glanced at Hongjoong, who seemed to be waiting for him to keep going. “Don’t get too excited, alright? I think I’m just… I dunno. Lonely.”

Starved.

He had a job where he was responsible for feeding people, to help nourish their bodies until satisfaction. But what about their souls? What about their hearts? Sure, he had heard the saying that a way to a person’s heart is through their stomach, and often the dining table was the gathering place for memories. And yet, the mundanity of it had caused it to become stale. It had been years since he last felt joy watching older men relive their glory days while drinking beer and picking at garnishes after finishing their meals.

“I think curating a space for creativity would be an opportunity to create connections.” Hongjoong gave him a compassionate smile. “You can never have too many creative spaces.”

“Yeah but I don’t want to become like all the other places popping up that follow trends and aesthetics,” Wooyoung pointed out. There were too many places that he discovered that he loved to go to, only to discover a year later it had changed into something completely different. Or worse, something nearly identical but with higher prices and worse management.

“How do you feel about music here?”

“As a concept or what’s my favorite band?”

“Not what I meant!” Even as Hongjoong playfully smacked Wooyoung’s arm, he was laughing. “I mean what about holding open-mic nights? For music or poetry or something along those lines?”

“Do people still do those?” He thought that was something he only saw in foreign movies. “Who would even come?”

“Well, I am a literature professor. I could easily spread the word about it if you decide to. Hell, I could even offer extra credit or something if they come to one.”

Wooyoung stared at him for a minute. “I don’t have the stuff for that.”

“I’ll ask Seonghwa. He always has things like that coming in.” The way Hongjoong had an answer for everything made Wooyoung think that it wasn’t the first time Hongjoong had thought about it.

“You’re awfully eager about this.” The smirk crept onto Wooyoung’s face before he could stop it. “What do you get out of it, huh?”

“Why do I need anything out of it, hm?” Hongjoong raised a brow as he leaned forward on his elbow. He looked smug as he sassily placed his chin on the back of his hand. “Isn’t it enough that I just want my friend to succeed and be happy?”

Wooyoung’s face flushed with heat as he stood. “Finish your food.”

Hongjoong cackled and clapped his hands together. It echoed in the dining hall and it made Wooyoung feel hopeful.

🍽️

Wooyoung stood in stunned silence as he stared at the restaurant's entryway. His eyes didn’t know where to look first. Hongjoong, sweaty and hunched over as he tried to catch his breath. Yunho, who was trying to look normal by leaning, despite the fact he was fanning himself with a menu. Then, there was the piano. The beat-up, walnut upright piano that was strapped to two sets of rolling dollies.

“Do you guys need some water?” he finally asked, not even knowing where to begin.

Hongjoong stood straight and sucked in a deep breath. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“I’ll put extra ice in it.” Wooyoung turned around and quickly retrieved the cold glasses. He brought the pitcher with him, which was smart, since the second he handed them over, both of them chugged their water and immediately asked for more.

He gave them another moment to catch their breath before he finally asked. “So, you guys wanna explain this to me?”

“S-surprise!” Yunho motioned to the piano, but all the pizazz was gone.

“It certainly is a surprise. What’s it for?”

“You.”

Wooyoung blinked. “Me?”

“You said you wanted a piano.” Hongjoong wiped his forehead on the back of his hand. “This came into my friend’s shop and well, here we are.”

“Did you…buy me a piano?”

“It might be in rough shape. Probably needs a good tune, but it’s yours.” Hongjoong smiled and his reddened cheeks rounded.

“Hey, what’s all the commotion out—” Jongho poked his head through the kitchen window and stopped. “Why is there a piano in our doorway?”

“There he is! Come put your muscle to good use and help me move this?” Yunho called. He set his glass on a nearby table and motioned for Jongho to come out of his hiding spot.

“Why do you guys look like you ran a marathon?” Jongho asked once he was out on the floor.

“The rental trucks wanted an arm and a leg to move this thing. It’s not that far so we thought we’d just bring it ourselves,” Yunho explained. “But it was worth it because I finally got to meet the beautiful Seonghwa.”

“But we did not account that it was uphill,” Hongjoong sighed. “I feel so out of shape.”

The piano hardly made it to one side of the room before Wooyoung heard someone plucking at the keys. He turned and saw Yunho hunched over as his fingers skillfully slid over the keys. It was a skill he didn’t know he had, but it was one he had obviously been practicing for years. How was he single, again?

”I…” Wooyoung stammered. “I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Hongjoong smiled up at him once again. Wooyoung could see the exhaustion in his eyes, but his pretty lashes fluttered as he tried to keep himself focused. The humidity outside was no joke and he couldn’t believe they weren’t more drenched with sweat.

“N-no, I have to. Especially after everything you’ve done I—“

”Count this as an investment into my favorite restaurant. When you get more popular, you can take me out to a nice dinner.”

The music suddenly stopped and when Wooyoung glanced over at Jongho and Yunho, they were staring too intently to try to be sneaky.

“L-Let me make you lunch then. As a thank you for bringing this all the way here.” He wrung his hands together to stop them from flailing.

“I’ll take that.” Hongjoong winked at him before he looked over to the other men. “Yunho-ssi, you bragged the whole way here about how good you were. Ready to put your money where your mouth is?”

“R-right.” Yunho swallowed hard enough that Wooyoung saw his Adam’s apple dip.

“I’ll go help Wooyoung-hyung.”

Before Wooyoung could protest that he needed a moment to himself, Jongho took him by the arm and pulled him into the kitchen. He pulled them to the far end, giving them a little bit better of a chance to speak without being heard. The piano picked up again and the off-key notes helped veil the hiss in Jongho’s voice.

“Breathe.”

“I am,” Wooyoung lied.

“You almost turned purple out there.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. But I think you would forget how to breathe too if the guy you’ve been crushing on bought you a piano too!” Wooyoung spoke quickly for someone who didn’t have any air in his lungs.

“So you admit it then?” Jongho’s eyebrows shot up so high they almost disappeared into his hairline.

“Admit what.”

“That you have a crush on Hongjoong.”

Wooyoung sputtered. “Shh! He’ll hear you!” He tried to cover his mouth with his hands but Jongho quickly knocked them away.

“Why is that bad?! He just bought you a piano! I think we can admit he has feelings for you!” Jongho stepped out of reach. “God, why do you have to be so stubborn about it?” He plucked his apron off the hook and slipped it over his head.

Jongho was loud, but the anxiety was louder. Even with music and laughter in the next room, he couldn’t stop thinking about every ‘what if’ and of course, none of the good ones were floating to the surface as easily as the bad ones.

He pulled his own apron on and hoped that the sound of the sizzling grill would drown it all out.

🍽️

Wooyoung stared at the piano across the room. A week had passed and he hadn’t touched it in fear of what it would whisper to him. It wouldn’t fit anywhere else. There was no way he could fit it in his tiny apartment; it belonged at the restaurant.

Yet, as much as it belonged, it stood out like a sore thumb. It deserved better. Hongjoong saw the potential in it, just as he saw the potential within the building that housed it. He saw the potential in Wooyoung.

He tapped his finger against his laptop, his leg bouncing wildly under the table. There was that same itch under his skin that he had felt years ago when he first took over. It burned like a bad sunburn that had blistered and burst.

To allow the piano to waste away in the corner would be a shame, the same way it would be a shame to let all the work that had gone into the restaurant go to waste.

He pulled up his bank’s website and signed in. First, he checked the restaurant’s account. It wasn’t in the negatives, thank God. Yunho and Jongho had already been paid, so he didn’t need to worry about that for another two weeks.

Next, he checked his personal accounts. His savings were decent; it wasn’t great, but he knew most people his age hardly had one, and if they did, it was constantly being withdrawn from due to life’s ever-growing cost to survive. His was only large enough for the off chance that he finally decided to bite the bullet to have a weekend vacation in Jeju, or in case his bike needed to be repaired.

Together, it still wasn’t much. But it was still something.

He opened another window and began searching for what he’d need. At first, he winced at the cost of things, but he had to keep repeating to himself that it would be worth it in the end. He needed to deep dive into it, watch tutorials, read some Reddit threads, and he wasn’t going to accomplish that in one evening. At least, not at the restaurant.

And, not alone.

He pulled his phone out and quickly dialed Yunho.

“What’s up, boss?”

“Are you busy?”

“Not incredibly. I’m just with Jongho.”

“Oh?” Wooyoung smiled slyly.

“Not like that, you ass. We’re watching the Tigers game.”

“Well, as long as you have clothes on, can I come over? I need your help.”

“Are you okay?” His voice took on a more concerned tone, and Wooyoung could hear Jongho asking if everything was alright in the background. He figured he was on speaker since that seemed to be the only way Yunho ever talked on the phone.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just want your opinions. And it works out that you’re both together already.”

“Is this about Hongjoong?” Jongho asked.

“No. It’s about the restaurant. I want to start moving forward with some things.”

“Fuck yeah!” Yunho stole the phone back and shouted so loud that Wooyoung had to pull the phone away from his ear.

Wooyoung chuckled at the enthusiasm. “Should I bring food?”

“No, we got chicken and beer. We got too much so there’s plenty for you.”

“Perfect.” He pinched his phone between his shoulder and his cheek as he began packing his things. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Yunho didn’t live very far, just a few stops on a bus and Wooyoung was already there. He ran up the stairs two at a time until he reached his floor. The door opened before he could even knock on it. Yunho was there with a big smile as he ushered him in.

“How did you know I was here?” Wooyoung stepped in and kicked his shoes off.

“My Wooyoung senses were tingling.” Yunho winked.

“He was watching for you by the window,” Jongho yelled from the couch.

Yunho threw his hands up. “Why do you have to spoil everything, huh?”

“You’re just dramatic.”

Wooyoung sat down and plucked a piece of chicken out of the cardboard box while they bickered. Maybe that’s why they never worked as a couple.

“Anyways,” Yunho huffed. “What kind of work things made you so excited that you wanted to talk about it off the clock?”

“I’m thinking of getting some kind of tablet to order things on.” Jongho opened a beer and Wooyoung took it when it was offered. With his clean hand, he pulled his laptop out of his bag and balanced it in his lap.

“That would make things really easy.” Yunho settled onto a cushion on the floor next to Wooyoung.

“Finally decided to join the twenty-first century, huh?” Jongho teased as he leaned over so he could look at the screen.

Wooyoung let out a low chuckle. “I guess I’m finally ready to take that risk.” He looked up at them, taking the chance to look them both in the eye. “And it is a risk. You guys know that, right?”

“Sure we do,” Yunho said with a nonchalant shrug.

“No, I mean it. This is going to take a lot of time and money and if it doesn’t work out…”

“Hyung,” Jongho reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “I mean this in the best possible way, but every day is a risk. We know that there is just enough money in to keep us afloat and every day it’s a possibility it could be the last.”

“We also know you tend to cut your own pay just so you can pay us,” Yunho added.

Wooyoung’s eyes widened. It wasn't their burden, so he had never told them. “How did you know?”

“I did the math.” Jongho pulled his hand away and reached for his beer. “Plus, that’s just who you are as a person.”

Wooyoung shifted uncomfortably. He was being perceived a little too much lately and he didn’t know what to do about it. On one hand, it was nice to know that those around him knew him as well as they did, however, it also felt like he was a bug trapped in a jar whose only purpose was to be observed. It made the itch under his skin worse.

He cleared his throat and tried to move on. “I thought of putting stuff in English since the college has a big foreign student population,” Hongjoong said he could help translate menus and stuff for us. I wonder what he would think of something like this.”

“Why don’t you call him and ask?” Jongho asked before taking a sip of his beer.

Wooyoung’s cheeks flushed with shame, which he didn’t understand why. “I don’t have his number.”

Yunho sat up. “You don’t?! How?!”

“Why would I?!”

“I have it!”

That shut Wooyoung up right away. “You do?”

“Yes! It’s how we coordinated the piano plan! You hover too much at the restaurant.” Yunho pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen for a moment. “Should I call him?”

Wooyoung jumped so fast that he kneed the table, rattling everything on top of it. His beer sloshed and it made Jongho spring into action as he tried to snatch the bottle to try to minimize the damage. Luckily it wasn’t very full and only a small amount splashed out onto the table.

“What the fuck?!” But when Jongho looked up, Wooyoung was attempting to climb Yunho like a tree in an attempt to reach the phone that he had raised above his head.

“Don’t you dare!” Wooyoung dug his nails into Yunho’s arm as Yunho managed to pry his other arm in between them, shoving Wooyoung’s face away.

“I wasn’t!” Yunho’s normally deep voice cracked.

“Liar!”

“Am not!”

“Your voice cracked! You are!” Wooyoung begrudgingly admitted defeat and pushed away from him, ass falling back onto the floor with a thump.

“You said you had a question for him, what’re you gonna do, wait until he comes in?!”

“Yes! He does it three to four times a week!” At some point, Jongho had gotten up to grab paper towels to wipe up the mess Wooyoung had made. He hadn’t noticed after being too focused on trying to stop Yunho from his dastardly deeds, so he muttered a quick thank you to him before returning to Yunho.

“What if he ends up in the hospital? What if he has to run from the mafia? What if he’s actually a secret agent who’s been undercover and suddenly has to run back to headquarters because he’s been ratted out?” Yunho threw his hands up and gave an annoyed jerk of his head.

Wooyoung’s mouth fell open.

“That’s what I thought,” Yunho huffed. “Now, sit back and let me work my magic.”

He put the phone on the table once he hit the call button. It rang twice before it was answered.

“Hello?”

Hongjoong’s voice made Wooyoung sit up like a dog hearing a command. His eyes were trained on Yunho’s phone as if Hongjoong was going to crawl through the screen.

“Good evening.” Yunho sent a smirk in his direction. “We have a question for you.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

“Me, Jongho, and oh, of course Wooyoung.”

“Wooyoung is there?”

Yunho raised his eyebrows at the casual way he used his name. “He is. He’s actually the reason I called. We’re discussing the future of the restaurant.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm. And he said that you had volunteered some of your services so while we’re going over things I thought it’d be easier to call you, but I have an even better idea. Why not just come over?”

“Are you insane?” Wooyoung whisper-hissed as he twisted on the floor to try to get at him again.

Yunho used his large hand to shove him back again, preventing him from getting to the phone. “We have chicken and beer if that interests you at all!”

“That sounds… Kinda fun actually. And you guys know me and sleep don’t get along. Fuck it, send me the address.”

“I’ll text it to you now, see you soon!” Yunho reached over and hung up once Hongjoong said his goodbyes. Then, with a shit-eating grin, looked at Wooyoung. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh my god.” A wave of dread washed over Wooyoung. “He’s coming over.”

“Like I said, you’re welcome.”

“How do I look?!” He shot up and his ankle clipped the table as he made a mad dash to the bathroom.

“Stop trying to ruin my coffee table!” Yunho shouted after him, but he was too distracted by looking at himself in the mirror.

He thought it wasn’t any worse than normal and yet he still grabbed Yunho’s face wash off the bathroom caddy for a quick scrub down. A pump of his moisturizer helped the tightness in his skin. It wasn’t a huge difference, but at least it felt better. He spotted the mouthwash and wondered if it was worth it since they were still eating and drinking, but ultimately decided to pass on it. He lifted his arms and checked to see if he smelled. Thankfully his deodorant seemed to be holding out alright.

Hongjoong had seen him on worse days, and he had seen Hongjoong on worse days. But Hongjoong’s exhaustion fit his aesthetic, dark circles and a shaking hand from too much caffeine seemed to go together. His just looked like well… Exhaustion.

Just to be safe, he grabbed the can of dry shampoo and sprayed it down the part of his hair. It helped dull the oily shine just enough to where he didn’t feel so gross anymore. He combed his hair with his fingers then washed the dusty residue off in the sink before taking a step back.

Well, it was what it was.

He walked back out and sat down as if nothing had happened.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad are you panicking?” Jongho asked with as much gentleness as he could.

“This shouldn’t be a big deal, right?” Wooyoung asked with a shaky voice.

“Isn’t this the first time you’ve hung out outside of the restaurant?” Yunho got up to go to the fridge to pluck another beer out.

“Yes. And if I think too hard about that, then I’m going to throw up.”

“Well, get your shit together. Because he said he lives twenty minutes away, and you already had ten in the bathroom,” Yunho said as he came to sit down.

It wasn’t the greatest pep talk, but it was frank enough that it worked. It was enough to get more chicken into his stomach which helped settle his flipping stomach. He didn’t touch his beer because even if there was very little left, he didn’t want the risk of a tipsy tongue to make a fool of him.

However, when the doorbell rang, he suddenly felt all too aware of himself just like when he was standing in front of the mirror. Yunho waited a second for him to take a deep breath before he opened the door.

Hongjoong stepped in looking like he had never seen him. If he didn’t know better, he swore that he was wearing pajamas but high fashion pajamas. His hair was flat and his bangs hung over the frames of his glasses. His nose was a little pink, maybe from a breeze that his chic clothes didn’t protect him against.

When the rain had soaked him, it had made him look more casual but he was still dressed in his work clothes and a thrifted leather briefcase. But at that moment he looked like he had just woken up from a few restless hours of sleep and any moment his little hands would be reaching out for a cup of coffee.

He smiled the second he laid his eyes on Wooyoung after slipping out of his slip-on mules. “Hi.”

“Hi. I’m glad you came.” Wooyoung’s fingers twitched with the need to brush his hair out of his face.

“I am too.”

“If you two want to make heart-eyes at each other at least do it out of the way.” Yunho had to press against the wall in order to sneak past them.

“W-we weren’t!” Wooyoung tried but knew it was useless by the way Hongjoong giggled.

“It sounds like we have a lot of work to do, so shall we?” Hongjoong held his hand out, pink palm up.

It felt natural to reach out and take it.

“Let’s do it.”

🍽️

It had taken longer for the revamping of the restaurant than Wooyoung had liked, but in the end, it was worth it. He had been anxious and impatient for the months leading up to the day, and it only made sense after the long hours they had put into it.

Like Hongjoong promised, a microphone and speakers came into the thrift store and once they had been checked over, they showed up in a giant box at the front door. When Wooyoung pressed Hongjoong over it, he denied any involvement. Then, more came. Some new chairs and tables for a little seating area in front of the glass windows. For almost two weeks, Wooyoung saw more of Seonghwa than he did Hongjoong, which of course made Yunho happy.

The tablets came in and it took them several days to figure out how to program them and then use them. Yunho brought his camera to take pictures of menu items so they could be uploaded to help make decisions easier. This also meant they had to get a new register so it was compatible with the new system. It was an expense that Wooyoung wasn’t prepared for, but it seemed to be working in his favor.

One of the other things he hadn’t prepared for was his parents. It lingered in the back of his mind that one day he’d have to deal with it, but when it actually happened, he froze. He was thankful there were actual customers in the restaurant so they couldn’t blow up on him. However, he wished those customers weren’t Hongjoong and his assistant Mingi.

It wasn’t uncommon for them to show up unannounced, but they hadn’t done it in so long that it had slipped his mind that it was a possibility. He watched uncomfortably as his father scanned the dining room and its new additions. At least his mother came to stand next to him, squeezing his arm gently with what he hoped was encouragement.

Hongjoong’s eyes were practically burning into his back as he watched what was going on. However his parents felt about the changes, it was all because of Hongjoong, and if it was just Wooyoung, he’d be able to keep their scrutiny at bay. Hongjoong didn’t need to be protected, but Wooyoung didn’t want him to be a part of his family drama.

After what felt like an eternity, his father looked at him with a blank face. “It looks nice in here.”

Wooyoung’s knees almost buckled. When he looked back at Hongjoong, he gave him an excited grin and a vicarious shake of his fists. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

It was enough to keep him going to their first event night.

Since finals were approaching for Hongjoong, he arranged for his students to come and work on their final projects if they needed help. It was better than the stuffy library, and they could have a bite to eat and let the end-of-the-semester jitters out at the piano.

Wooyoung was going to have to get used to toddler-like smacking of piano keys, but having more life within the four walls of the dining room was still better than the dullness he had before.

“That doesn’t look like work.” Wooyoung smiled as he dropped off a cup of coffee for Hongjoong.

“It’s not.” Hongjoong kept typing. He was incredibly focused despite all the noise around them.

“What is it then?” Wooyoung tucked the tray under his arm and leaned over to try and take a peek.

Hongjoong blocked his view by tilting the screen of his laptop down. He gave Wooyoung a stern glare. “Nosy.”

“Why can’t I see?” Wooyoung stuck his bottom lip out in a dramatic pout.

“It’s not ready yet.”

“But what is it?”

“A book.”

“A book? You’re writing your book?” Wooyoung didn’t want to overdo it with his excitement, but he couldn’t help it.

“Yeah… It’s about a cute restaurant owner and a grumpy college professor.”

Wooyoung’s heart skipped a beat and his brain blended every thought he had together until it was a slurry of nonsense. He licked his lips so he could have a moment to gather himself before he spoke. “S-so it’s fantasy then?”

“Hopefully not for too long.” Hongjoong gave him a smooth smile. “Do you want a spoiler for it?”

“Sure.” Wooyoung remained rooted in place as Hongjoong stood.

“The grumpy professor gets tired of waiting for the cute restaurant owner to realize he’s in love with him and finally asks him out.”

“In… In love?” There was ringing in Wooyoung’s ears. Church bells, maybe.

“For about six months now.” Hongjoong ducked his head. “I thought that maybe you didn’t feel that way.”

“Impossible. I just thought…” Wooyoung waved his arms to gesture to the restaurant and everything it encompassed. “I thought it would be inappropriate.”

“Yunho and San started sleeping with each other months ago, so why —”

Wooyoung let out an offended gasp. “Those rats! I knew he was getting laid but he denied it every time! Ooh, when I get my hands on him, I’m gonna —”

Whatever threats he had in mind died the moment Hongjoong’s lips found his. His lips were soft as silk, and the little puffs of air leaving his nose pressed against his cheek tickled his skin. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so Hongjoong took them and brought them up to his cheeks.

He had kissed people before, and yet, it felt brand new. His lips moved lazily so he let Hongjoong set the pace. It was easy to sink into it. Hongjoong kissed like a cup of warm tea at the end of a long, cold day.

Wooyoung wanted to chase him when he pulled away, but he was left stunned. His eyes fluttered open and he looked down at him in disbelief.

“I don’t believe that’s on the menu!”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile when he looked back at Jongho over at the kitchen window. “It’s the owner's special.”

A kiss on his jaw made him look back at Hongjoong. “Hopefully it’s a one-time special.”

“Don’t worry, it’s for you only.”

Hongjoong smiled wide, but his eyes stayed focused on Wooyoung’s lips. “Can I have another serving then?”

“Only if you stop trying to flirt with me this way. This is the cheesiest thing I have ever heard in my life, and I can’t take it seriously.”

The most beautiful laugh escaped Hongjoong as he threw his head back. “Okay, Okay. Deal. Kiss me then?”

Wooyoung was more than happy to oblige. After all, he had never tasted anything sweeter than Hongjoong’s lips.

🍽️