Work Text:
“Noah hyung! As usual I wan– Eh?”
As if in his own house, Bonggu opened the door and searched for Noah to order his drink as usual. But instead of Noah, he found a tall, handsome and blue haired man standing behind the counter.
“Oh my god you're so handsome.” He said as soon as he stood there to order.
The blue haired man chuckled. Oh this pink-haired boy is so bold. He thinks.
“What would you like to order?”
“Oh my….
Your voice is good too. What is your name?”
The confused man scratched his ‘not so itchy’ head and smiled. Angelic smile. Bonggu melted on the spot (in a good way).
“It's Yejun. Nam Yejun. So, your order?”
“Even the name is handsome. And yeah, I would like to order light deca–”
“Aegi-ya! I told you to drink less coffee. Nope. no coffee for today. Give him warm tea, yejun.”
“Ah Noah hyung!! I told you not to call me that! Not in front of Yejun hyung too! Aishh!!” Bonggu whined as he hit Noah (not hurt at all) who appeared out of nowhere. He even didn't realize that he already called Yejun “hyung”. He didn't care. He NEEDS to be closer to Yejun.
So, how did Noah and Bonggu become close?
Noah and Bonggu become close after Bonggu’s consistent visits at the cafe. Noah is a part timer here too (before yejun came) but he quit already. Bonggu would often order the same thing, at this hour, where customers rarely came. Usually around 9pm when the shift is almost done. Of course he often orders light decaf but lately it changes to warm lemon tea or tea or even milk thanks to Noah.
Come on, I'm not twelve, Noah hyung.
Nope, no coffee. That's not good for your health.
If you ask if they're a couple, nope. Noah thinks of Bonggu as his own little cute brother. Sometimes baby, aegi, and jokkomi become his nicknames. Not sometimes but often.
Back to the story
“Alright, your warm tea will be ready in a minute. I'll bring it to your table. Please have a seat.”
Argh damn that smile!
And that's also how Bonggu increased his frequency at the cafe in this cold winter.
Actually, his light decaf and warm tea order is just an excuse. The real reason is Yejun, the barista who greets him like sunshine. Bonggu will wait at the same corner table where he can see Yejun clearly until Yejun is done with his work and they slowly grow closer through casual conversations.
“So you still study? I'm curious cuz Bonggu is here almost everyday.” Yejun asked as he sipped his americano. There's no customer anyway, so he might as well take a break.
“Um yeah. It's just I have time to go here hehe.” To meet you obviously.
“Oh which university?”
“Uh… I am actually homeschooling.”
Yejun found hesitation in Bonggu’s answer. The way he avoided eye-contact, fidgeting his hand, obviously seems restless. So he didn't ask further, worried it might be burdensome to him. Maybe he will tell him someday.
“Oh that's cool.”
Awkward.
“So heading home right away after your part time, hyung?”
“Yeah. It's kinda late anyway. You should go straight back home too. Should we walk home together?”
“CAN I?!!”
“Ehh I mean…. is that okay with you hyung?”
Damn it's embarrassing. He was almost excited by the word ‘together’ that he can't control himself in front of Yejun. Then he heard chuckles.
“Of course bonggu-ya.” Yejun gently ruffled Bonggu’s hair and Bonggu thought his face color was the same as peach. No, it's a tomato.
It was late when Yejun and Bonggu decided to stop by the convenience store. They left the convenience store together with plastic bags swinging in their hands. The street was quiet, lined with dim streetlamps, their light pooling in soft circles on the pavement.
Bonggu walked a step behind at first, but caught up when he noticed Yejun adjusting the strap of his backpack with his right hand. Under the pale light, something caught his eye. A pale, jagged line running across Yejun’s skin.
“…You have a scar.” Bonggu said softly, almost as if afraid to pry.
Yejun glanced down at his hand, flexing his fingers. “Yeah. It’s old.”
“Old?”
“I was eight,” Yejun replied after a pause. “Car accident.” His tone was casual, but there was a faint tightness beneath it, like a note slightly out of tune.
Bonggu tilted his head. “Was it bad?”
Yejun let out a short breath that could’ve been a laugh. “Bad enough. My parents… didn’t make it.”
“I lived with relatives for a while,” Yejun continued, eyes fixed straight ahead. “Then I moved out when I was old enough.”
They walked in silence for a moment, the sound of their footsteps blending with the rustle of early spring wind.
Yejun’s grip tightened on the bag handles before forcing a faint smile. “But that’s life, right? You lose people.”
Bonggu didn’t reply immediately. He just looked at Yejun for a long moment, as if memorizing him under the streetlamp glow. “…I’m sorry,” he finally whispered.
Yejun shrugged, though the scar on his hand seemed to throb with an ache that had nothing to do with the cold. “It’s okay, bonggu-ya. It's been a while anyway.” He caressed Bonggu’s cheek as he noticed the mood had been gloomy.
At the time, neither of them knew how wrong that sentence was.
❄️🌸
The café was nearly empty the next day. The soft hum of the heater mixing with the quiet clink of mugs. Bonggu sat by the window with hands wrapped around his cup but barely touching the coffee.
When Yejun walked in, he noticed immediately the unnatural paleness in Bonggu’s cheeks.
“You’re freezing,” Yejun said, frowning as he slid into the seat beside him. He reached into his bag and pulled out the hand-crocheted neck wrap he always carried in winter. Without asking, he leaned forward and wrapped it gently around Bonggu’s neck.
Bonggu blinked in surprise. “Yejun hyung.”
“Your face is cold,” Yejun muttered, adjusting the fabric so it sat snugly against Bonggu’s skin. “You need to wear something warm. And you drink coffee again.” His tone was gruff, but his eyes were full of worry.
For a moment, Bonggu just stared at him. The way Yejun’s brows furrowed, the gentle touch that betrayed more care than words ever could. Something in his chest ached, and it wasn’t just his heart condition.
Suddenly, Bonggu reached out and pulled Yejun into a hug.
“Bonggu?” Yejun stiffened at first, but Bonggu only tightened his arms, burying his face against Yejun’s chest.
“Just… a little longer,” Bonggu murmured, his voice trembling.
Yejun didn’t ask why. He simply stayed there, arms slowly circling Bonggu’s back, feeling the frail weight against him.
Bonggu closed his eyes, letting the warmth seep into his skin. It was almost unbearable. How safe it felt, how much he wanted to keep it forever.
It was warm.
His throat tightened. He wanted to cry. He wanted to tell Yejun about his heart condition, about the time he didn’t have, but the words stayed trapped in his chest.
His parents told him to rest at home instead of going out in this cold winter but truly, meeting Yejun is the best medicine to ever exist in this world.
“Is it warm enough now?” Yejun asked quietly after a while.
Bonggu smiled faintly, still clinging to him. No… not nearly enough.
But all he said was, “Yeah. It’s warm.”
❄️🌸
The hospital smelled faintly of antiseptic. Yejun’s steps were brisk, his heart still pounding from the call he’d gotten from Noah saying that Bonggu had collapsed. That explained why he didn't see that pink haired guy at the cafe today.
So yeah he knew the news about Bonggu's condition from Noah. Not from Bonggu himself. Disappointed but he can scold Bonggu later for not telling him sooner.
He reached the ward and spotted two figures standing by the nurse’s station, talking in hushed voices. A middle-aged woman with gentle eyes, and beside her, there was a man with tired shoulders. When the woman turned and noticed him, her expression seemed surprised.
“Yejun?”
Yejun froze. Something about her face. The curve of her smile, the slight crease near her eyes. It sparked an old and buried memory.
Her voice softened. “We’ve met before… but you were so young. Do you remember?” She glanced at her husband.
The words slammed into him like the screech of tires.
That day.
The rush.
His father’s voice, telling him to sit tight.
The blinding headlights.
The sound of shattering glass.
Yejun’s right hand twitched at his side, the scar suddenly burning hot.
He stared at them, his throat dry. “That day… my parents—”
The man’s eyes dimmed. “We… we were so sorry. Your parents were our dear friends. We asked them to bring you. We just wanted you to meet your little brother for the first time but we didn't know it would turn out like this…”
Little brother.
Like a sibling.
That was what they had said to him, right before his world ended.
Yejun’s chest felt tight, but not from running. He took a step back, his voice cracking. “I– I need to go.”
The woman reached for him, but he pulled away before she could touch him.
In his head, all he could hear was the echo of his eight-year-old self screaming in the wreckage.
And now he knew whose birth his parents had been hurrying toward that day.
Bonggu’s.
❄️🌸
The first time Yejun ignored his message, Bonggu brushed it off.
Maybe he was busy.
Maybe he’d fallen asleep early.
But then it happened again. And again.
A string of unread messages. Plans postponed with vague excuses.
Quick and polite replies instead of the usual warm teasing.
It was late evening when Bonggu spotted Yejun outside the café. The snow had started to fall in lazy spirals, dusting Yejun’s black coat. Bonggu pushed the door open. “Yejun hyung!”
Yejun froze for a fraction of a second, then forced a smile. “Hey.”
“You’ve been… hard to find lately.” Bonggu’s voice was light, but there was a searching look in his eyes.
“Work’s just been busy,” Yejun said quickly, his gaze darting past Bonggu to the street. “I should get going.” Bonggu frowned. “I can walk with you—”
“No.” The word came sharper than intended, and Yejun’s face twisted in regret. “I mean… it’s fine. You don’t have to.”
The silence between them stretched, broken only by the crunch of snow under Yejun’s shifting feet. Bonggu’s chest tightened.
“Did I… do something?” he asked softly.
Yejun’s jaw clenched. He could see Bonggu’s breath clouding in the cold air, his eyes wide and uncertain. Part of him wanted to reach out, to take it all back, to tell him none of this was his fault.
But the other part…. the part still trapped in the memory of twisted metal and blood, couldn’t.
“It’s not you,” Yejun said finally, forcing his voice steady. “I just… need some time.”
Bonggu tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He watched Yejun walk away, his figure swallowed by the snowfall, and for the first time, the café felt unbearably empty.
❄️🌸
Bonggu lay propped up against the pillows, his skin pale under the fluorescent lights. His heart monitor beeped softly beside him.
He’d collapsed again. Nothing new. But the ache in his chest felt heavier than usual. Not just from his condition, but from the gnawing absence of Yejun.
The door opened, and in walked his parents, their faces drawn with worry. They each carried a small bag of fruit and snacks like they always did. But they weren’t alone.
Yejun stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide, breath caught.
Yejun thought when he decided to come visit Bonggu here, he would vanquish all the resentment he felt towards the family.
But he was wrong.
His resentment is bigger than he thought.
Seeing the parents again made him regret coming here.
“Ah, Yejun,” Bonggu’s mother greeted warmly. “You came to visit—”
“...You.” The word slipped from Yejun’s mouth, almost a whisper, but laced with something sharp.
Bonggu blinked. “You know each other?”
The room went still. His parents exchanged a glance, their smiles faltering.
“We… met a long time ago, his parents are our friends,” his father said carefully. “When you were born, Bonggu, there was… an accident. On the way to the hospital, Yejun’s family…”
“My parents died that day.” Yejun said, his voice tight.
Thump.
Bonggu’s chest tightened. Not from illness, but from something colder. “Wait hyung… you mean…”
Yejun looked straight at him, and in his eyes, Bonggu saw the truth and the resentment that had been simmering beneath the surface.
“They were going to see you,” Yejun said quietly. “Because you were born. They told me to take care of you like a real sibling.” He gave a bitter laugh. “And then I lost them. Both of them. That day.”
Bonggu’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
Yejun stepped back, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t know… until now. I didn’t know it was you.”
The words landed like a blade, slicing between them.
Bonggu’s parents looked stricken, but Bonggu couldn’t look at them. Couldn’t look at anyone. His hands trembled in his lap.
“I… I’m sorry,” he whispered, though he knew sorry wasn’t enough.
Yejun turned away, his voice low. “It’s not your fault. But I can’t…” He trailed off, shaking his head before leaving the room.
The door shut softly, but to Bonggu, it sounded like the final note of a song that would never play again.
❄️🌸
It's been a week.
Yejun sat on the steps behind the café, head in his hands. The winter air bit at his skin, but he didn’t care. He’d been avoiding Bonggu for days now. Ignoring texts, changing his shifts, walking the long way home just so they wouldn’t cross paths.
Bonggu was doing the same. Not because he didn’t want to see him, but because every second in Yejun’s presence reminded him of the truth he could never say aloud.
If I wasn’t born… you’d still have your parents.
“Nam Yejun!”
Yejun looked up just in time to see Noah striding toward him. Before Yejun could even greet him, a fist connected with his jaw.
Yejun stumbled back, clutching his face. “What the hell—?!”
“That’s for being a damn coward,” Noah snapped, eyes blazing.
“What—”
“You’ve been avoiding Bonggu, haven’t you?!” Noah’s voice was sharp enough to cut through the freezing air. “Do you even know what that’s doing to him? He’s already sick, Yejun!”
Yejun’s breath caught. “You don’t understand—”
“No. I do.” Noah’s fists trembled at his sides. “I know what happened to your parents. I know why you’re angry. But blaming Bonggu for being born? That’s not you. You’re not this immature.”
Yejun’s throat tightened. “If they hadn’t gone to see his family that day—”
“—They would still be gone for some other reason! Accidents don’t wait for convenient timing!” Noah’s voice cracked, but his gaze stayed fierce. “You think Bonggu wanted to be the reason? You think he hasn’t blamed himself every single day after he knows the truth?”
Yejun froze, the words hitting him like ice water.
Noah took a step closer. “You’re hurting him more than his heart condition ever could. And if you keep running, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.”
Yejun opened his mouth, but no words came out. His mind flashed back to Bonggu’s pale face in the café, the warmth of that last hug, the way he’d whispered,
“Just… a little longer.”
Noah’s voice softened, but it was no less firm.
“He’s my precious little brother, Nam Yejun. Please.”
❄️🌸
It's been three days and Yejun just has the courage to meet Bonggu.
Noah’s words echoed in his head.
“You think he hasn’t blamed himself every single day after he knows the truth?”
He’d been wrong. So wrong.
The resentment that had lived in his chest since he was eight had blinded him. He’d told himself he was protecting his own heart, but all he’d done was crush someone else’s.
Bonggu had nothing to do with the accident. He was just a newborn. A life that should have been celebrated, not blamed.
And Yejun had left him alone in that hospital room.
By the time Yejun reached the hospital again, his chest was tight with urgency. The hospital corridor smelled faintly of antiseptic and something sterile that Yejun had always hated. His feet felt heavier with each step, his pulse drumming in his ears.
He rushed through the hall, barely registering the nurses calling out to slow down. He stopped in front of Bonggu’s room, heart pounding.
The bed was empty. The curtains fluttered faintly in the breeze from the half-open window.
“Where is he?” Yejun demanded, grabbing the sleeve of a passing nurse.
The nurse’s eyes softened, and that was when Yejun’s stomach dropped.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
The world went silent.
No sound of footsteps in the hallway. No wind against the glass. Just the ringing in his ears and the sudden crushing weight in his chest.
“He… he left something for you,” the nurse added, handing him a small box tied with white ribbon.
Yejun’s fingers trembled as he untied it. Inside were a neat stack of envelopes. Each with his name written in Bonggu’s handwriting.
The first one was dated months ago. The last one,
….yesterday.
By the time he realized, his feet brought him to the cafe, unable to stay at the hospital any longer.
With the small box Bonggu left for him.
He sat down at the same corner table where Bonggu often sat because his feet were unable to stand, and opened the first letter.
Hyung! I made an acrostic poem with your name!
Nam - Hyung, your smile melts like butter
Ye - My knees go weak oh my god
Jun - I want to fall in love with you again hehe
As expected from Bonggu.
He read the first lines. The ridiculous acrostic poem. A laugh escaped him, shaky and wet with tears. Why does his heart feel like it's about to burst from pain?
His heart feels heavy but he needs to read this letter till the end.
Yejun hyung,
If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t get the chance to tell you these words face-to-face.
The truth is, my heart has always been weak. Not in the cheesy “you make my heart flutter” way (though you do that too), but in the real, medical, hospital-visit kind of way. I didn’t want you to worry.
I know you would have been kind. You would have taken care of me.
And that’s exactly why I kept it a secret because I didn’t want you to change the way you treated me. I just wanted to be Bonggu, the guy at the corner table, not Bonggu, “the fragile one.”
Every moment I spent in that café, talking to you, hearing about your day, those moments kept me alive longer than any medicine ever could. You were the warmth in my mornings and the peace in my evenings.
If I could have asked for more time, I would have used it all to stay by that corner table, watching you move behind the counter, listening to your voice, waiting for you to smile at me again.
Please don’t be sad for too long. Keep laughing. Keep brewing coffee. Keep living fully. If you ever think of me, I hope it’s with a smile, not tears.
Thank you for letting me love you quietly.
And thank you for making me feel loved, even without knowing it.
With all my weak heart,
Bonggu
The words blurred, the room spinning slightly. He tore open the second envelope with trembling fingers.
Yejun hyung,
I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. I don’t even know if you’ll ever forgive me for existing. But I wanted to tell you… I’m glad you exist. Even if I shouldn’t. Even if my life has been short, it was worth it to meet you.
The ink blurred as Yejun’s vision swam.
Yejun hyung,
When you see cherry blossoms, think of me. I've always wanted to see them together with you. But I guess I can't, right?
I wish when you see them, you would think of me, not as someone who took something from you, but as someone who loved you. Even if I never said it out loud, I think you knew.
From Bonggu
By the time Yejun reached the end, his vision blurred completely.
His hands trembled, but he held the letter like it was something fragile. The last piece of someone he could never get back.
Outside, winter sunlight spilled through the window, but for Yejun, it felt like the world had gone cold again.
💙🩷
It's March already.
He looked outside the window. Spring finally came. The cherry trees bloomed just as Bonggu had promised with soft pink clouds swaying in the wind. The petals danced along the streets, catching Yejun’s eyes.
Bonggu used to talk about cherry blossoms as if they were magic. Even in the middle of winter, with the streets wrapped in frost, he’d smile and say, “Wait until spring, hyung. The whole world will look like it’s blushing!”
But now… now the thought makes his chest ache.
They were still beautiful.
But to Yejun, they looked fragile. Too fragile.
Just like Bonggu.
Pretty, but never meant to stay for long.