Work Text:
Sicheng knows how to be kind.
He’s lived with three boys of whom two are too young to have a job and one is already paying half of the expenses due to their agreement a year prior to know that he should never be stingy with his spare money. Studying in an expensive university because it offered a decent scholarship for someone like him who still doesn’t fully grasp the Korean language, he foots his other expenses not part of the program by working downtown in a café run by one of his sunbaes that was nice enough to offer him the job (Granted, Oh Sehun needed to be convinced by endless cringe-worthy aegyo from his boyfriend who teaches Chinese Literature to Sicheng but details). He splits his earnings into buying groceries because he can’t cook even if his life depended on it, give Kun the other half of the rent and keep the rest for when Renjun and Chenle wanted to be given treats when they aced their tests.
Sicheng is kind, too kind as Kun never fails to remind him because as much he likes the younger there are aspects of Sicheng that people overlook when they see how harmless he is. Kun knows that Sicheng’s hiding a mean streak that is covered with layers of shyness and language barriers and he pities the next soul he tricks. But he’s his friend, the one who gave him the last cup of ramyun because he was stressing over his Economics homework and could barely see through his eyes as he managed to highlight away from the page.
So when Sicheng comes home from work looking like he’s about to freeze with his coat gone, face alight with happiness and he makes the mistake of asking what happened, he realizes he should have taught him how not to be that trusting.
“I gave it to the homeless man.”
Sicheng’s kindness is going to land him into trouble, Kun thinks as he rubs his palm all over his face.
Now, how Sicheng managed to think that his coat that his mother sent him recently was better off in some homeless man’s hands is a rather short and straightforward story. It wasn’t their first meeting when he gave his coat to him; in fact it was along the lines of their fifth week knowing each other, the male two years older than him who always seems to be sitting on the bench on his way to the café.
Five weeks ago, Sicheng walked thirty minutes earlier to work because he forgot his notebook in his work locker where he had scribbled some formulas he needed for Chemistry. It was cold enough he could feel goosebumps rising on his arms but not so he needed to bundle up and he was whistling a cheery tune when he spotted a lone figure on one of the green benches he always passed by. He was about to ignore it until he spotted the cup on the space beside the man. Only then did he put his whole attention to the man, eyes raking in the ratty jacket that draped over his slender frame and the off blue denim that seemed like it had a war in the washing machine. His heart lurched when he looked at the man’s face, dark circles under his eyes and cheekbones so prominent it looked like his jaw was as sharp as a knife. He looked like he hasn’t had enough food in his system and against his better judgment, pulls out a 500 won coin from his pocket and puts it inside the cup.
The man is fast asleep and Sicheng feels a sense of satisfaction as he continues his walk to the café where Sehun had just started opening up, thoughts of the encounter tucked in his mind for another good deed he has done.
Barely two days passed and Sicheng is early once again, carrying his canvas bag by the shoulder texting Kun that he left his dancing shoes home and he might need his help to deliver it to him later. He peeks from behind his blond bangs to see the man from before holding his cup between his thighs, cursing at the splotch of brown on his white shirt with a tear on the sleeves. Sicheng’s mouth drops because maybe the money the male had accumulated was for clothes from a thrift store and now he has ruined his own shirt that is probably not going to be washed for a long time.
He rushes to the man, not noting the quirk of those thick eyebrows at his sudden intrusion and promptly drops a 100 won in the cup. The coin hits the bottom with a plop in time for the male to yell a “What the fuck?”
Sicheng gives a polite smile and shuffles away, only for the man to grab his arm and pull him back with a look of disbelief.
The sun is rising and it hits the male’s silver hair like a halo and Sicheng wonders why a homeless man would waste money on hair dye when they could be buying food instead. “It’s okay. I didn’t need that.” Well, he can’t buy that ice cream cone for dessert but he knows this man needs it more.
The eyebrows furrow and the man looks lost. “What?”
“You can have the money. It’s not much-“
“You put a coin in my morning coffee. Why the fuck you acting like you did me a favor?”
Is this man one of those homeless people who refused help because they think they can handle themselves? Sicheng has encountered some of those who threw the sandwich he gave them back at him, yelling they didn’t need his charity. But he doesn’t have time to think it through because his phone is buzzing and he just knows Kun is asking him where he’ll drop the shoes off, so he bows to the man and says “I need to go.” There’s a slight pause and Sicheng puts another 100 won into the man’s hand before he can react. “Buy a new shirt!”
He’s too busy running and texting at the same time he misses the scandalized look on the man’s face.
“I don’t fucking need your charity.”
Well, being screamed at this early in the morning is nice. A little painful to Sicheng’s sleep-deprived brain but he tightens his smile more to show he isn’t going to take back the 500 won he put inside the cup.
It’s been a week since they last saw each other. Sicheng was tasked with helping Chenle with his Korean to also brush up his own that weekend, taking a shift off because he doesn’t trust the younger when Renjun isn’t there to distract him and Kun is busy with his vocal practice to bother them. He keeps thinking about the man and hoping he didn’t sleep on the bench with the days getting colder. There’s something Sicheng can't explain about him, a magnetic pull wherein he wants to see him comfortable because clearly the man is too prideful to accept help from anyone even for a measly 500 won. As much as Sicheng wants to be angry that his ice cream intake is being cut short with his giveaways to the man, he’s satisfied that he can make a change in someone’s day.
So when he’s walking to work and has his 200 won ready in his hand, the two coins cold on his palm as he strides to the bench where the silver-haired man usually is and stops when someone blocks his path. His smile widens at who it is, just the person he wants to see and he looks at the cup being held near the man’s chest.
The man screamed that he didn’t need his charity when his jeans look like it was worn out and tattered at the seams. This man who is wearing a shirt with questionable stains and a coat that has its threads piling at the cuffs looks like Sicheng has offended him as he points at the cup.
Without any hesitation, Sicheng puts the coins inside. “Here you are.”
“You just ruined my coffee.” The man blurts out in disbelief, peering into the murky black liquid as if he can see the coins at the bottom settled with the sludge.
Sicheng shrugs and pats his shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with accepting help, okay?” he comforts and he walks around him because his work here is done for the day.
“I can’t fucking believe-“
Sicheng doesn’t hear the next string of words because he can’t understand that level of Korean yet but he hopes it was a compliment or some divine realization that this man knows Sicheng means well.
The routine continues: the man wears rattier clothing as the weeks fly by and it makes Sicheng grow even more concerned that he gives him crumpled bills from the tips he had just to make sure the man can buy food or more coffee because it is all he is complaining about these days.
What’s worrying Sicheng more is when the man begins sprouting nonsense as the days go by, things that sound so weird to him that he chalks it up to needing more food to stop starvation from clouding the man’s judgement.
Week three of meeting him, Sicheng drops a 1000 won note in his hand instead of the cup because it might get wet with the residue and the man grabs his wrist to stop him.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
Sicheng shakes his head. “I want to help. You’re the one who is ridiculous not to accept it.”
“Why do I even need your help?” he shouted, pushing Sicheng away. “Do look like some charity case to you?”
“Yes.”
There was no hesitation in Sicheng’s voice that it made the man almost slap him. The man sighs, puffing his chest out and scowling. “I make enough money to buy you, you little-“
“Please don’t lie because I know for a fact you can’t even buy decent clothes, let alone buy someone,” Sicheng’s face contorts to a grimace because now that he thinks about it, the statement sounds wrong “Have you been prostituting yourself for food? Is that why your clothes are old? Gifts from sponsors?” he hates the idea of this man selling his body despite how handsome he was. It’s something he can’t bear and he pulls out more notes from his wallet and stuffs them in the man’s hand. He can live with ramyun for a week just so this man can have his freedom from old geezers who are into age play and questionable kinks.
It was probably the second time he has rendered him speechless and Sicheng leaves before he can open his mouth to protest more.
That night, the Chinese male prays to whoever was listening that the man actually brought food for himself instead of thrift shopping again because he can’t stand the kicked puppy look Chenle and Renjun send him when he says he doesn’t have money to buy them snacks. Kun for the goodness of his heart treats them to some Thai food and jokes around that during Sicheng’s next paycheck, they’ll feast on Chinese.
He doesn’t have it in him to confess that he’s going to use what’s left of his paycheck to buy the homeless man a decent dinner.
Sehun is giving him a questionable look that’s hard to pinpoint given his poker face but he’s been glancing at Sicheng who is wiping the tables with a cloth, eyebrows furrowed as he seems to be counting something. From his spot behind the counter, he can see that the boy has his pockets full with tips where the coins make a sound whenever he moves but rather than him buying three drinks for his roommates he’s been pocketing them more and more the past week. Not to mention that Sicheng has been coming to work early and he knows he’s diligent but it’s confusing as he’s used to him coming by a few seconds before opening.
Luhan is at his side when he is busy glaring at Sicheng and hits him lightly. “I told you. You can’t fire him because he barely speaks to the customers.”
“That’s not it.” He flushes as he returns the slap but softer against the elder’s head. “He’s been coming here early.”
Luhan nods, aware of what he means. “I guess so. I mean, he could be in need of a raise and he wants to give you a good impression.”
“Why would he need a raise? We negotiated it properly.”
“Sehun, you threatened him with a straw the first time I left you two alone. But now you two have bonded over one-lined conversations. Things change, okay?”
The younger male is not convinced and he has a sneaking suspicion but pushes it at the back of his mind. Still, the thought is a little concerning so he whispers it to Luhan’s ear. “He looks like he’s looking forward to something.”
Luhan bops his nose, knowing it annoys the younger based on the scrunch of his nose when he looks at him. “Who knows? He keeps to himself a lot.”
“When he arrives every morning, he looks like there’s nothing wrong in the world and rainbows puke unicorns. Kind of like-“
“-You when you realized you liked me?”
There’s a similar dawning expression on their faces as they stare at each other while Sicheng hums a tune that sounds suspiciously like a fire truck.
Sicheng couldn’t believe how much he underestimated how the man was starving himself when coffee is dumped over his head and the man is screaming at him in a garbled mess of words he can barely understand. Rapid Korean words flying as a mix of profanity slips now and then paired with the agitation on the man’s face is scary but Sicheng is concerned more if this man bought drugs instead of food this time.
“Your fucking coat is a speck of my earnings and you insult me by putting coins that can’t even buy me another cup of coffee for the ones you ruin! I keep telling you I don’t want your charity! Shove your useless money up your ass because I don’t need it! I told you I can buy you, your family, your cow and everything you ever worked hard for! What. Do. You. Not. Understand!”
Sicheng doesn’t even have a cow so he raises a brow at that but the man’s yelling is echoing through the air and he realizes this man needed more help than he thought. “So not only did you prostitute yourself but you also need medicine, right?”
It only makes the man angrier. “Do you even hear yourself?”
“I should be asking you that?”
“I can put you in jail for harassment!”
Sicheng thinks back and tries to calculate the cost between buying this man food and medicine. “You should take care of yourself more, alright? I don’t think it’s healthy for you to drink coffee when you don’t even have proper meals. Do you have any prescriptions? I can’t give much if they’re expensive but I’ll find some organic alternative and-“
The man’s face is red with anger but for some reason, he meets Sicheng’s concerned eyes. The latter is speaking Mandarin at this point because he’s thinking of how bad the man’s state if mind is and he casts worried looks every now and then at him.
“Do I look like I need help to you?” he’s softer now but the traces of anger is still there, dimming into irritation that Sicheng smiles at him to an extent it catches the man off guard.
“It doesn’t matter because I want to help you. Nothing else to it.” Sicheng offers the notes like he’s scared of setting the man off again, ignoring how the coffee is sticking to skin in favor of the barely there blush that is on the man’s face as he takes the money.
“Maybe I’ll give you old clothes to replace the ratty ones you’re wearing. I need to go now.” Sicheng offers and he pointedly ignores the offended look that has returned to the man’s face.
He can hear him mutter a soft “I can’t believe this is my life” as Sicheng waves at him while walking to the café with a smile on his face.
Sehun texts Luhan that Sicheng is obviously interested in someone that he meets before he goes to work based on the warm smile that stays on his face the whole day despite the stains on his clothes and his hair smelling like coffee.
Now back to the present, week five and before Sicheng comes home to tell Kun his prized jacket in someone’s hands, Sicheng finds out the man’s name.
He made his way through his routine, wearing a heavier jacket and a scarf to fight the cold he usually was so weak against and patted his pocket where his paycheck was after Sehun handed it to him the other day. He already gave his share to Kun and the two younger ones were bribed well with the help of the generous tips he got. Sicheng knows that the man may not be happy with him and really, he should be the one angry after being dumped coffee on but he knows for a fact that it was a defense mechanism from unfamiliar situations. The man is already mentally ill when he believed he was rich and so Sicheng wants to stay patient with him.
He sees the silver hair in the distance, smile already on his face when the man turns and he’s drinking from his cup with a weird expression as he approaches him.
Sicheng notes that he is dressed too lightly for the weather, black shirt almost gray and jeans with holes on them. He looks at them with a frown, the skin peeking out making him wonder if there are already goosebumps there. “Aren’t you cold?”
A scoff. “I woke up late and didn’t have time to grab a coat. Got a problem with that?”
There’s a strange tingling in Sicheng’s chest that he can’t decipher as he smiles teasingly. “Were you afraid you wouldn’t catch me?”
The man sputters out the sip he made and coughs, holding the coffee away from his face and Sicheng laughs at him. His eyes trace the thick black writing on the cup, spelling out the hangul for a name that he tests out. “Taeyong?”
The man freezes, eyes wide as he waits for Sicheng to continue with his train of thought. The tension in his shoulders is there again, like an animal ready to run but Sicheng is too busy in his own thoughts to make more note of it. “It’s a nice name.”
Taeyong, Sicheng now can put a name to the face, nods and he slumps a little. He looks like he’s torn between looking disappointed and relieved that Sicheng giggles at how child-like he looks. “Was I not supposed to know that?”
“Shut up, okay. People have wanted to pay me just to make them call me so casually.”
“Oh? Are you older than me? Taeyong-hyung, what’s with the grandiose complex? I’m worried.”
Taeyong blushes at what Sicheng calls him, rubbing his arms for some heat that doesn’t go unnoticed by the other and scoffs. “You’re worried? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on inside your head and what made you think I need charity.”
“Maybe emotional charity is what you need,” A small smile is on the other’s face and Sicheng pauses because he likes seeing those lips pulled into a smile but he continues “Or food and medicine. Good thing I can offer both. Come on, I know a good place.”
God knows why but Taeyong agrees, smiling wider when Sicheng takes off his coat and offers it to him.
There’s nothing special about their time together, they eat in silence because as much as they’ve been around each other to know of the other’s quirks they are still strangers and one of them is homeless while the other can be argued as a charity worker.
Still, Sicheng smiles at Taeyong as they eat beef and chicken, hoping that today would be a good memory for both of them. He can feel a budding friendship between them, as they made small talk to fill the gaps whenever the silence became uncomfortable and Sicheng tells Taeyong about himself, that he’s majoring in dance and how he lives with his friends who he cares for deeply that he’d sacrifice his ice cream for them. In turn, Taeyong says that he’ll treat Sicheng ice cream because as much as he was annoyed that he put coins in his perfectly good coffee, he cheekily says that Sicheng has wormed himself into his head and he’s glad to have company despite the circumstances.
“Don’t you have friends, hyung?”
“A few but no one is stupid enough to tell me my clothes are ratty or that I’m a prostitute-“
“I’m worried for you.”
There’s a soft look in Taeyong’s eyes that has Sicheng blushing this time. “-Or was just worried about me. It’s refreshing.”
They part ways after that and Sehun is considering an intervention when Sicheng makes small talk with him with more words than he’s used to.
Luhan pats him in the back, enjoying how Sehun clings to him when Sicheng is explaining to them how people make friends in the weirdest coincidences. “Oh, Hunnie. He’s in love.”
Sehun wails weakly from where his head is buried on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Make it stop. It’s creeping me out.”
Kun is only worried that Sicheng might have left his wallet inside the coat he gave away and ignores how the younger sighs wistfully every now and then.
Taeyong is wearing a suit.
Sicheng is unsure if his exams are getting into his head or that he shouldn’t have had those croutons for a snack because he just knows those herbs on them were the same species as weed. He rubs his eyes as if that would help him erase the hallucination that Taeyong looks very attractive in the black suit that looks more expensive than anything he’s ever seen up close.
Sicheng blinks and no, Taeyong still looks like he’s walked out of a Forbes magazine with his hair perfectly tousled and his red tie standing out of the black ensemble that it gives him a strange urge to pull him by the fabric. “Who did you steal that from?”
Taeyong pouts and there’s that man who Sicheng has seen wear ratty shirts and stained jeans. It’s disconcerting but Taeyong steels himself. “Sicheng, I am not homeless.”
“With whatever lotto you won, you sure are not.”
“I was never poor.”
Taeyong places a sleek black card on his hand, Sicheng flipping it over to see the silver embossed cursive of “Lee Taeyong, CEO.” He reads out loud and blinks again because his eyes are surely failing him more these days.
“So basically, I’ve been giving charity to someone who owned a big company and while he was having a crisis over a deal gone bad, he wore questionable clothes-“
“Excuse you for not knowing fashion, Sicheng.”
“Don’t interrupt me,” Sicheng glares as he looks at Taeyong in the eye. “I made Renjun, Chenle and Kun suffer my ice cream withdrawals because you liked being treated like a normal person and you liked me smiling at you whenever I gave you money for food.”
There’s a silence as Taeyong waits for Sicheng to scream at him, say something along the lines of him taking advantage of his kindness and sprout nonsense about his roommate being right. What Sicheng does instead is take a deep breath of relief as he holds Taeyong’s hand like a wayward mother.
“At least you’re not mentally ill.”
“You’re not mad?”
“I am but I’m making you buy me food this time so treat me right. And give me back my coat because my mom is asking me where it is."
Taeyong chuckles, rubbing a hand through his hair to ease his nervousness. "So, um, go on a date with me?"
"I've basically been the charity version of your sugar daddy so why not?"
"Sicheng!"
(Sicheng never gets his coat back but his mom understands when he skypes her and Taeyong is wearing it while introducing himself as his boyfriend of five months.
"How did you two meet?" his mom gushes at how handsome Taeyong was and that Sicheng must be so lucky to have met him when he overworks himself in an office 24/7.
Sicheng doesn't take a moment to think when he blurts out "I thought he was homeless and gave him money for five weeks."
Taeyong hits him for that, saying that wasn't romantic at all.)