Archive of Our Own

After one year and two months of working at Loners' Cafe—so called because of its atmosphere encouraging people to dine alone should they wish to—Minho has amassed his fair share of regulars.

A handful of them he knows by name, either by overhearing it or being told what it is. He isn't less appreciative of those he only recognizes by face, though, except probably for two people who are prone to waking up on the wrong side of the bed and taking out their irritation on him or the other staff. Thankfully, those individuals are self-aware enough to apologize for their rude behavior afterward, but their lack of decorum bumps them all the way to the bottom of Minho's list of favorite coffee enthusiasts.

As for the lucky bastard (because according to one of his coworkers, Hyunjin, "he's spared from ever experiencing hyung's wrath no matter what he does") occupying the top spot, he's walking in right now with his iPad and a red composition notebook tucked under one arm. Today's outfit is a black bucket hat; a pair of round, wire-rimmed glasses; a baggy sweatshirt printed with thick black-and-white stripes; loose, black cotton pants; and white sneakers.

To Minho, the man often exudes the energy of a human blanket that he may or may not want to make a burrito out of himself with.

One unspoken rule in the coffee shop is that during Minho's shift, no one else gets to serve his favorite customer. Even if Minho happens to be on his quick break, which he always takes in the staff room, someone has to immediately inform him of Mr. Blanket's presence, and he'll put everything on hold to attend to him.

That's why he isn't worried about being tethered to a different table where one of the three occupants is taking ages to decide between the Greek salad and the broccoli salad. However, he doesn't like Mr. Blanket waiting longer than he has to, especially since he seems to be the type who has places to go and people to meet.

"What do you recommend?" Ms. Indecisive asks Minho after another minute of contemplation.

The front door. "The broccoli salad has won the hearts of many, including my own," he replies, opting for graciousness instead of mischief, knowing that his non-customer service personality isn't going to help him job-wise.

But the universe seems intent on pissing him off because the woman says, "Hmm. You know what? I'm feeling a bit adventurous. I'll try the chicken chopped salad."

It takes 99.99% of Minho's patience to nod and smile before taking the menus and relaying the order to the blond, freckled cashier with 'FELIX' on his nametag.

"You look like you're five seconds away from committing homicide," says Felix under his breath while inputting everything into the electronic cash register. "Better prance over to Mr. Blanket so you can calm down a bit."

"Excuse me, but I don't prance," remarks Minho in a neutral tone since Felix is yet another person in the world who can do no wrong in Minho's opinion. "I catwalk." He hears the other giggle as he casually goes to the aforementioned customer, whose fingers are already tapping away on his iPad's Magic Keyboard. "Heya," he greets with only his second genuine smile of the day. Everyone else gets nothing but a curt hi from him. "I take it you want the usual?"

Mr. Blanket looks up at him, all round eyes and soft cheeks and unadulterated sweetness, and goes, "Hi, yes, the usual for me. Thank you."

If Minho lacked the self-control he currently possesses, he'd accept the man's bright smile as payment, but he remembers that he doesn't own the place, so he says, "Got it. Coming right up," in the friendliest manner, writes 'L I.A. 3X' and '1 C.S.' on his small notepad, and shows the page to Felix. "He smells like watermelon," he comments, making sure to keep his voice soft. "How many years in prison will biting a customer get me?"

"If you're incarcerated, you won't be able to see him," reminds Felix, "so please behave for your sake." He processes the order without so much as a glance at Minho's notebook.

"I think I have a crush on him," declares Minho.

"Everyone and their ancestors know that," says Felix, acting like he hasn't already heard that line a hundred times.

"Does he know that?"

Felix peers over Minho's shoulder to see what Mr. Blanket is doing. Since the man is still typing and not ogling anyone, he answers with, "No."

"Then I'm safe." Minho heads for the kitchen to pick up Table 4's food and serves it in the courteous yet almost robotic way he's been trained. Meanwhile, he plucks a white daisy from the small vase he'd thrifted and placed beside the POS system several months ago and puts it on the tray beside Mr. Blanket's plate of dessert prior to bringing him his order.

"One iced Americano with ice harvested from the Arctic," he says as he moves each item to the table, "one cheesecake so scrumptious it can bring world peace, and a complementary flower for being one of our most supportive patrons. Enjoy."

Mr. Blanket chuckles at the ridiculous descriptions, picking up the daisy to sniff it. "Thank you so much." His words are accompanied by shy, brief eye contact, which Minho takes as his cue to leave so as not to make him uncomfortable. If there's any subtle detail he's observed about the other, it's that Mr. Blanket isn't much of a socializer, which is likely why he comes around as frequently as he does.

"I'm so close to buying him a diamond ring and a condo in Gangnam," he tells Felix later on when they help each other wipe the tables at the opposite side of the coffee shop, out of the customers' earshot.

"Hyung, you can barely afford your studio apartment," remarks Felix without sounding harsh. "How about you save up for your first date with your boy before anything else?"

Your boy—Minho likes that a lot. Grinning, he ruffles Felix's hair affectionately. "Look at you being so mature and practical. Seems only yesterday you were throwing a tantrum over your parents not buying you ice cream at the Christmas fair."

Felix pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek in mild annoyance at the unnecessary refresher. "I was five."

"And I was seven and witnessed the whole meltdown, so..."

With a sigh, Felix admits defeat and moves on to the adjacent table.

Minho, on the other hand, allows himself to glance at Mr. Blanket, observing the breadth of his shoulders, his round face and fidgety left leg, and the way he's slightly hunched over to get a better view of his screen. He thinks about how he could quit this part-time job, accept the standing offer to become a full-time choreographer at the studio also employing him, and receive a bigger paycheck, but that would mean giving up the right to be in close proximity to the person whose sunshine-warm smiles and contagiously mellow temperament alike bring Minho joy.

It may seem trivial at first glance—it's not like Mr. Blanket's the only unbearably cute guy on Earth—but Minho is stuck. Mr. Blanket has had his full attention for a while, and that laser focus is showing no signs of wavering.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

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Minho grew up being told how good-looking he is. He didn't think much of it until his hormones kicked in, at which point he realized that he could use his appearance to lure someone who'll help satiate his newfound sexual thirst.

Unfortunately, he discovered that he had a far bigger problem on his hands that he couldn't solve even with his superior genes: he's gay. Not bi or pan—just straight-up (pun intended) homo. And because he's in South Korea, a country where the LGBTQIA+ community isn't treated well, confessing to another boy isn't a walk in the park for him or any other non-heterosexual man; it's a stroll over a field of landmines.

The reason he hasn't made any effort to seduce his favorite customer is simple yet devastating: Mr. Blanket is straight.

This sad truth makes itself known one rainy Saturday morning, the weather forecasting Minho's impending heartbreak. Minho is by the entrance, putting up a painting of a serene beach that Hyunjin had given to their boss as a birthday gift, when the glass door swings inward and a girl protecting herself with a waterproof jacket over her head shuffles into the cafe.

The sight is uneventful, but what startles Minho is the person who's barely a foot away from the female newcomer.

"Are you alright?" asks Mr. Blanket as they park themselves in front of the door, unaware of Minho standing nearby and subtly listening to their conversation.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answers, beaming at Mr. Blanket to prove her statement (and get on Minho's nerves, too, no doubt). "Thanks for lending me your jacket, oppa."

Minho's right hand automatically turns into a fist at the last word and the fact that it was practically coated in sticky, sweet sugar. He keeps his breathing even to prevent pulling unwanted attention toward his seething form, and then he tells himself that the girl could just be a friend. Then again, Mr. Blanket has never brought a companion to the coffee shop, not once over his five months of attendance. He talks to people on his mobile from time to time, but true to the cafe's name, he chooses to be a loner regardless of the length of his visit—until now.

"Let's sit by the window," suggests Mr. Blanket while gesturing to the table he's long claimed as his. The only positive thing about this is that the distance would allow Minho to pacify himself better.

His curiosity, however, urges him to move closer so he can hear them clearly. He finds the opportunity to do so in a natural manner when two customers vacate their spot one table away from Mr. Blanket's. Minho walks to it and starts arranging and stacking the dirty plates, utensils, and cups on a single small tray, deliberately being extra-careful about it so he doesn't finish sooner than he'd like.

"You're not gonna look at the menu?" asks the girl.

Mr. Blanket shakes his head. "I come here every weekday and sometimes on weekends, and I've tried nearly all the items they offer. Everything's good. I know what to order."

"You weren't kidding when you said you love this place."

"Yeah," says Mr. Blanket, his grin evident in the way he speaks. "It's quiet and cozy, and the coffee's stronger than my will to live."

Minho purses his lips to stop himself from snorting. There's a long pause before the girl says, "Uh…right. Anyway, I think I've made up my mind. Let's order?"

"Okay, lemme just—"

It's then that Minho picks up the tray filled with tableware and meets Mr. Blanket's eyes the second he stands up straight. He smiles at him and goes, "I'll be right with you."

"That was smooth, hyung," comments Felix as Minho passes by to head for the kitchen.

Minho smirks with pride and hastily places the tray beside the sink where the one in charge of keeping the kitchen clean, a college sophomore named Jiyeong, is on standby to wash the dishes. Jiyeong only has to look at the glaringly out-of-place enthusiasm on his coworker's face to know who's in the cafe proper.

"Don't," warns Minho before Jiyeong can say anything. He doesn't have time for banter if he doesn't want to jeopardize his and Mr. Blanket's fairytale ending. He sprays some alcohol on his hands upon exiting the kitchen and goes right to his target. "Heya," he says to Mr. Blanket. "The usual?"

"Yes, and a grilled chicken sandwich with fries," answers Mr. Blanket, inadvertently melting Minho with his cotton candy gaze like he always does. "Thank you."

"Gotcha. And for you, miss?" asks Minho, switching to his slightly colder customer service voice.

"Just the carbonara and a large caramel frappe," she replies while still looking at the menu.

"You don't want dessert?" asks Mr. Blanket with an expression so endearing that it could convince Minho to do anything, be it to dive into a pool of piranhas or swallow molten lava.

The girl doesn't notice it, though, since she's now checking her phone. "No, I'm watching my sugar intake."

Minho blocks the intense urge to mention that a frappe has a ton of sugar in it, rendering her reason invalid, and just says, "Very good. I'll be right back with your food and drinks." Once at the counter, he calls the barista, Seungmin, over to tell him, "Make the frappe super sweet, as in saccharine."

Even if Seungmin stares at him for a few seconds, he's not a stranger to Minho's devilishness. "The best I can do without getting fired is to double the caramel syrup."

"Yeah, great. Awesome. Do that."

In the thirteen minutes it takes for the cook and his assistant to prepare the order, Minho stands behind the counter, pretending to fix something, and watches Mr. Blanket and Ms. Fake Sugar Police out of the corner of his eye. It's hard to tell what their relationship is because there's neither tension nor familiarity between them. Are they on a blind date (god, hopefully not)? Does it have to do with school (twice, Minho has overheard Mr. Blanket discuss homework over the phone), perhaps church (Mr. Blanket's religion is unknown)? Maybe they're estranged childhood friends catching up. Minho would be lying if he were to say the mystery isn't killing him.

"Their food's ready," declares Felix, reading what's on the screen of the cash register.

Minho enters the kitchen and comes back out with Mr. Blanket's and his companion's meals on a large tray. He goes to the counter to get a daisy and picks up their drinks and Mr. Blanket's cheesecake prior to going to Table 8.

Per his training, he names the items as he places each in front of the corresponding customer, but this time around, because he considers the detailed descriptions he gives an inside joke for him and Mr. Blanket, he leaves them out. To his mild surprise, Mr. Blanket's expression shifts and turns him into a confused squirrel throwing Minho a questioning look.

"What's wrong?" asks Ms. Fake Sugar Police upon seeing Mr. Blanket's face.

Don't you dare tell her, reprimands Minho mentally. That's our thing.

"...I just need ketchup for the fries," lies Mr. Blanket.

"Let me get that for you," says Minho, swiftly retrieving a bottle of ketchup from behind the counter. "Anything else?"

"No, this is everything. Thank you." Despite Mr. Blanket's smile, the confusion in his eyes is still there.

Minho thinks of it as a small win. "Enjoy." With that, he goes to stand in the area near Felix in front of the counter.

"She's pretty," remarks Felix after coming a bit closer, "but she doesn't look anything like him."

Minho raises an eyebrow at the statement. "Why is that your first observation, of all things?"

"'Coz now I can rule out the possibility that she's a relative."

Turning his back to the customers, Minho is free to contort his face to express his disgust. "But she can still be a friend of his, right?"

"Yeah," agrees Felix, "if it's his thing to let his friends feed him."

Sirens go off in Minho's brain. Very slowly, he turns his head just enough to see the girl raising her fork, around which some pasta is twirled, to her companion's mouth. Mr. Blanket shakes his free hand to politely reject the offer—good boy, muses Minho—but when the girl insists, he gives in and opens his mouth to accept the food. In turn, she giggles before taking her hand back.

"Call 119," whines Minho under his breath. "I'm about to have an aneurysm, I can feel it."

"Maybe you should stay in the kitchen, hyung," suggests Felix with genuine concern.

"Thou surmise me too feeble to handle this horrid display of male and female courtship?"

"Your use of medieval language indicates that you are. Besides, you're weak for Mr. Blanket in general."

"I despise thee when thou art sensible in excess."

"Thou ought to halt being obnoxious and return to modern times," remarks Seungmin, whose sharp hearing allows him to catch everything his coworkers chat about around him and react out of the blue.

"I swear to god I'll stuff you in the coffee grinder."

"Welcome back to the 21st century."

"A date doesn't equate to marriage," says Felix. "Also, I don't wanna jinx it, but it might not even end as well as we assume it will."

"Actually, jinxing it would be amazing," goes Minho.

"I'm not doing that."

"I need to find new friends with no morals whatsoever."

"You're forgetting that Changbinnie-hyung exists," says Seungmin, referring to one of their common friends.

Minho glares daggers at him. "Well, he's not here right now to sympathize with me and help me carry out my plan to kick that girl out of this cafe and Mr. Blanket's life for good, is he?"

"If you're gonna stay out here, you have to behave, hyung. She's still a customer no matter what her relation is to Mr. Blanket," says Felix. "Just think that if he sees you treating her well, he'll have a good impression of you."

"What use is a good impression when he's into diving for oysters and not slurping the gherkin?"

Seungmin puts up his hands and goes, "I'm drawing the line at nasty euphemisms. I'll be in the back if you need me."

A grin forms on Felix's face as the barista slips into the kitchen doors. "You did that on purpose."

"Yeah, and it was a hundred percent effective." Minho turns around to assume a proper waiting position, looking straight ahead and using his peripheral vision to keep an eye on Mr. Blanket. "I'll play nice," he says with limited lip movement, "and reserve all the naughty for him once he's mine."

"That's the right attitude," remarks Felix, beaming. "Now I don't have to worry about the possibility of mopping up blood."

True to his word, Minho is cordial with Ms. Fake Sugar Police when she asks for more Parmesan and napkins. He doesn't give Mr. Blanket any special attention, either, in order to stay professional. He even does a shallow bow as a way of greeting them goodbye after they pay at the counter.

His all-business, no-party demeanor, however, cracks when he starts cleaning Table 8 and sees the daisy beside Mr. Blanket's plate. While he's never been disappointed in him, perhaps there really is a first time for everything.

Although the realization saddens him, it only lasts for a few seconds because Mr. Blanket unexpectedly reappears, returns to the table—holy guacamole on a stick he's the prettiest marshmallow, thinks Minho—picks up the flower, and says, "Sorry, I forgot," with a gentle smile before heading back out.

"I'd say that's a win," comments Felix cheerfully when Minho gapes at him in disbelief at what has just happened.

Minho agrees with a nod. The girl may have snagged a date with Mr. Blanket, but it's apparent that Minho occupies a place in Mr. Blanket's heart in the shape of a daisy.

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Sunday is Minho's only rest day as a part-timer, which is totally fine with him since it means more money. Also, Hyunjin, who's on mid shift with a Sunday-to-Friday schedule, has informed him that Mr. Blanket had visited the cafe only once on a Sunday and then never again. Minho sometimes assumes that it's no coincidence, that Mr. Blanket deliberately comes when Minho's there, but if he were to express that out loud, people would call him delusional, so he keeps that thought to himself.

Like clockwork, the next time Mr. Blanket drops by the coffee shop is Monday, when Minho is already an hour into his five-hour shift. He looks extra-squishy in a beige cap, a mustard yellow hoodie, and white pants and trainers. And aside from his tablet and notebook, he has what appears to be a hardbound textbook with him.

"Look at him about to study for the sake of our future together," coos Minho, heart-eyed.

"What, are you gonna be his trophy husband?" asks Seungmin.

"Trophy, medal, plaque, certificate—I can be whatever kind of spouse he wants me to be."

"You literally had that coming," says Felix upon seeing Seungmin facepalm.

As soon as Mr. Blanket has settled on his chair, Minho walks up to him and greets him with a smile. "Heya. You're getting the usual?"

"Yes, I am," answers Mr. Blanket, "but I meant to ask: do you have a policy against hanging out? I'm writing this paper due today, and I don't think I can complete it in under an hour, so would it be alright for me to stay here until I finish it? There are a lot of distractions in my apartment, and I can't eat at the library, so I'm kinda desperate."

Three things: one, Mr. Blanket has never directed an entire paragraph of words toward Minho; two, the expressiveness of his face while he speaks deserves an Oscar; and three, Minho decides that they should skip the wedding ceremony and go straight to the honeymoon.

"No, you can stay here for as long as the cafe's open," says Minho, managing to keep things together despite his emotions. "If there's anything wrong with the Wi-Fi and such, please let us know so we can address it and you can continue working."

Mr. Blanket lights up the room with a big smile. "That's perfect. Thank you so much, Minho-ssi."

Minho doesn't miss Felix's soft gasp from the counter—that chronic eavesdropper—and if he wasn't in front of Mr. Blanket, he would've probably screeched like a pterodactyl. But given the circumstances, the only physical reaction he can make is a few fast blinks and the question, "You know my name?"

Mr. Blanket gives him two blinks in return. "Uh, yeah. It says so on your nametag," he goes, pointing at the rectangular piece of plastic pinned on Minho's white collared shirt.

Since there's no cliff to jump off of or quicksand to dive headfirst into, Minho retains his composure to the best of his ability. "Right. Of course. Well then, I'll go and have your order prepared now." In too deep a daze to write down the order, Minho just makes eye contact with Felix while walking to the counter.

With his lips pursed but his eyebrows raised, Felix enters into the POS machine the same two items Mr. Blanket loves ordering. He doesn't say a word because his friend isn't saying anything, either, though he can tell how happy Minho is by the way his ears have turned red.

A few minutes later, Minho's back at Table 8 and saying, "An iced Americano that packs a knockout punch, a slice of cheesecake that melts in your mouth, not on your fork, and one yellow daisy to match your bright outfit today."

"Thanks a lot," says Mr. Blanket. "I might place another order later, so please don't print out the receipt yet."

"Understood. I'll be right over there if you need anything."

"Your whipped is showing," remarks Seungmin when Minho joins him and Felix behind the counter to refill some of the items in the display case for pastries and baked goods.

"And that's how hyung intends it," chuckles Felix. "I'm really happy for you. This is a huge deal. Like, it's the unrequited love equivalent of second base."

"I prefer to think that he loves me but doesn't know it yet," says Minho. "He'll come around soon enough, you'll see."

Felix raises his tiny fists in solidarity. "I'll be rooting for you all the way, hyung."

"Wake me up when you know his name," goes Seungmin and ducks at the speed of light knowing he'll get mangled with a pair of tongs by a certain waiter if he doesn't.

"I don't have to know his name," says Minho after he retracts his glare, "'coz I already call him 'baby.'"

Seungmin pretends to gag without a sound, while Felix covers his mouth, his eyes turning into crescents.

"Hyung, you're the cutest when you're in love," giggles Felix.

"Wake me up when Mr. Blanket is also in lo—" This time, Seungmin speed-walks out of the area before he can finish his sentence and locks himself in the bathroom for customers.

"I should really tell the manager to find a new barista," remarks Minho, closing the glass display. "But before that, I have to find a way to sabotage him so I'll be able to present proof of his incompetence. Maybe I can switch the beans to low-grade ones and collect all the customer complaints?"

"Sure, you do that," says Felix, having witnessed his friend make threats countless times without pushing through with any of them. "I'll help you find a good source of bad coffee."

"You aw heaven-sent, my deawest wittle Wixxie."

"Ugh," groans Felix, wincing. "Save the disgusting baby talk for that dude over there, please."

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Two weeks go by in a flash, only slowing down for Minho whenever Mr. Blanket is within the four walls of Loners' Cafe. In comparison, his work at the dance studio is fast-paced at any given time since he never runs out of students and showcases and events they have to prepare for. His waiting job allows him to take it easy for a few hours before he physically drains himself.

He's thankful for having weekends off there because he can't imagine teaching dance after the cosmos drops another F-bomb on him.

It starts with Felix muttering, "Oh boy," out of nowhere.

Minho, who's placing a fresh bouquet in his vase, follows his friend's line of sight and almost curses in three languages.

Mr. Blanket has arrived at the cafe.

With a girl.

A different girl.

"What happened to the other one?" asks Seungmin in a hushed, curious tone.

"Maybe she was just a friend," whispers Felix back.

"Is she also a friend?"

"She's a friend without the R," spits Minho, crushing in his fists the purple tissue paper the daisies had come in. "If this keeps happening, I'll give up my Saturday shifts."

"You're stronger than this, hyung," motivates Felix. "The first girl didn't make the cut, so there's a chance that this one won't, either." He hangs his head upon hearing himself. "This is not who I am. 'Didn't make the cut'? When did I get this…mean?"

"Your true self comes out when you're with me—take advantage of it." Minho pretends to fix the flowers, his left eyebrow raised. "I refuse to look at the enemy unless I have to."

"Excuse me," says Mr. Blanket after two minutes.

Minho steels himself prior to approaching Table 8. "Heya. Will it be the usual today?"

"Yes, plus spaghetti aglio e olio. Thanks," replies Mr. Blanket, a sight for sore eyes as always.

"Excellent choice," returns Minho, whose favorite pasta dish is exactly that. "And what would you like to order, miss?"

"Mac and cheese, a loaded baked potato, and blue lemonade," she answers, and that's the only time she looks up at Minho. When she does, her eyes widen, her mouth goes slack, and she freezes in place while staring at him.

Minho ignores her and takes the menus off the table. "Very good. I'll come right back with your orders." After showing his notepad to Felix, he mumbles in a neutral tone, "She's not into him."

"That's good news," says Felix without taking his eyes off the screen.

"She's into me."

Felix stops typing, and Seungmin drops an empty plastic cup on his work counter. "Are you sure?" asks the former.

"I've seen enough girls ogling me to determine who's interested and not interested. She doesn't seem brave enough to ask for my number, so I don't have to dread whether she'll hit on me in front of Mr. Blanket, but it's possible that she'll turn him down after this. Or at least I hope so."

"Poor Mr. Blanket," says Felix, watching the customers in question with a sad expression. "He might be looking in the wrong places."

"Any place where I'm not there is wrong."

"But he's been coming here for…" Seungmin's words trail off when he catches Minho dangling death in front of him with his eyes. "Never mind."

As Minho serves the duo's (he doesn't want to acknowledge that they're a couple) food, he avoids looking in Ms. No Gaydar's direction as subtly as he can.

However, based on experience, he's aware that unless he makes his sexuality clear, whoever's eyeing him won't back off (though admittedly, he's encountered a few women who claimed they could "make a straight man" out of him, which is creepy and weird and stupid all at once). So the last thing he does before walking away is to place the light pink daisy he'd brought not in the middle of the table as he always does but right next to Mr. Blanket's iced Americano. Mr. Blanket thanks him with a youthful grin, while Ms. No Gaydar frowns at the flower.

"Did you just leave Mr. Blanket to explain the daisy on his own?" snickers Felix.

"Yeah," answers Minho, "'coz he also has to do his part to make this relationship work."

"You're standing on the border between positive thinking and delusion," remarks Seungmin.

"Delusion is nothing but positive thinking on steroids."

"Whoa," goes Felix, genuinely in awe. "That's deep, hyung."

During the next half hour, Minho attends to other people, a few of them his regulars. Every time he laughs with a customer, he feels a set of eyes boring through his skull, but he pays it no mind since it doesn't belong to his favorite person.

Regardless, he feels bad that Ms. No Gaydar is being blatant about her disinterest in Mr. Blanket. Boredom is written all over her features, and she contributes little to their conversation. At some point, Mr. Blanket runs out of things to say, resulting in an awkward lull between them, but he manages to find another topic that, again, his companion doesn't make much of an effort to respond to.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," starts Seungmin, "but I think you should go over there and cheer him up somehow. This is getting painful to watch."

"He's an adult," says Minho firmly. "He can handle this." Despite having said that, he feels his chest tightening out of helplessness. If he were friends with Mr. Blanket, he could pull him out of the whole situation without a problem, but as it is, there's no way for him to ease the other's distress.

"Thank goodness they're done," says Felix when Ms. No Gaydar and Mr. Blanket start getting out of their chairs. "I couldn't watch any more of that K-drama. Tragedy isn't my cup of tea."

Instead of responding, Minho moves away to make room for Mr. Blanket at the cashier. Upon completion of the transaction, he says, "Thank you for coming," in a normal way and drops the volume of his voice for, "See you on Monday."

Being the only person who hears the last four words, Mr. Blanket smiles at Minho like the precious ball of fluff he is and says, "See ya," prior to following Ms. No Gaydar out of the coffee shop.

Minho's heart can't help but do a happy little jump.

Heterosexuality: zero, Lee Minho: two.

🌼🌼🌼

The cafe is quiet save for the staff moving about to complete their tasks and the soft, moderately upbeat instrumental music playing in the speakers. Minho is at Table 10, the farthest from the door, making leaf-shaped streamers to be used as decorations for the autumn season. The owner had requested them way too late.

Only a few meters away, Mr. Blanket has his earphones on and mumbles to himself every now and then, reading aloud (albeit quietly) what he's written down in his notebook. He's carried out this activity several times in the past, so it's not an odd sight whatsoever.

"He's definitely a music major," says Felix when he delivers Minho's free drink of the day (an employee perk): a large iced Americano (that he may or may not have started drinking upon realizing that it's Mr. Blanket's favorite). "Should we get his autograph before he becomes famous?"

Minho's response is, "I'm after a lot more than his autograph."

"Be careful not to cut yourself while drooling over him." Felix then goes back to the counter and chats up Seungmin while there are no customers who need assistance.

There's no chance for Minho to accidentally injure himself because he's a master multitasker, but excited knocking on the window startles him, causing him to almost choke on his drink. He sees a curly-haired man in an all-black attire waving at Mr. Blanket, who's stunned but does a small wave back.

A few seconds later, the stranger has made his way inside the cafe, and there's another man tagging along with him, a bit taller and more fashion-forward.

"Ya, Jisung-ah, it's really you!" greets Mr. Grim Reaper.

Minho turns his head to make eye contact with Felix and screams HIS FREAKING NAME IS JISUNG without saying a word. He temporarily abandons his task to stand by the counter in case he's needed.

"Channie-hyung, what're you doing here?" asks Jisung—what a perfect name for a perfect boy who's perfect for me, Minho thinks—before spotting the other man. "You, too, Jeongin-ah."

"Do you not want us here, hyung?" asks Jeongin, sounding serious. "We'll just leave, then."

Chan keeps Jeongin in place by hooking an arm into his. "You're not going anywhere. Yeah, we were on our way to buy some shoes. There's a sale at that store we both frequent. We didn't think we'd run into you, though."

"Sit, sit," invites Jisung, gesturing to the two chairs at the opposite side of Table 8. The newcomers oblige, with Chan sitting directly across from Jisung. "You guys wanna order anything? Their coffee here's the best." Minho imagines that Seungmin is smirking his ass off. "Oh, right, hyung doesn't touch caffeine. My bad."

"They have other beverages," informs Jeongin, already checking out the menu. "The grilled cheese sandwich is tempting me…"

"Go on and get it. My treat 'coz you told me about the sale," declares Chan.

"What about me?" whines Jisung, a never-before-seen-by-Minho pout on his face.

Chan stares at him for a moment and says, "Fine, you can have something as well."

"I love you so much, hyung," coos Jisung.

"You only love me for my money."

"And? How is that my problem?"

At this point, Minho doesn't know which one he prefers: shy, peace-loving Jisung or funny, mischievous Jisung. He's astounded at the major difference in his personality when he's alone and when he's with people he's close to. It gives him more dimension and, as impossible as it sounds, makes him even more appealing to Minho.

"Stop treating me like your sugar daddy," says Chan as he raises his hand to order.

"You're not my sugar daddy," counters Jisung. "You're my sugar grandpa."

"Hi," goes Chan as soon as Minho stops beside their table, ignoring the other's jest and noiseless laughter. "I'd like a Strawberry Cooler and a slice of pecan pie. I had a pretty big breakfast," he adds, addressing his friends.

"I'll have the Classic Spaghetti with extra cheese, but this dashing gentleman over here will pay for it," says Jisung, whose teasing smirk triggers Minho's urge to kiss him stupid. 

"I'll go with a grilled cheese sandwich, one Dark Chocolate, and tomato soup, please," says Jeongin. Despite being the youngest in the group, his calm demeanor makes him appear the most mature.

"Got it," says Minho. "I'll be back with your orders."

Felix is already vibrating with excitement when Minho gets to the counter. "We finally know his name, oh my gosh."

"It only took, what, close to six months?" asks Seungmin while preparing the first drink.

"At least I didn't resort to stalking him on social media," says Minho, quite proud of his level of self-control.

"That's only because you had nothing to use, not even his name. But now that you do…"

Minho raises an eyebrow. "You underestimate me even though all this time I haven't looked once at his debit card receipts."

"I haven't either," chimes Felix, "per hyung's semi-scary instruction not to."

"Just admit you like stirring up drama," says Seungmin.

"Or maybe I have something you don't that's called professionalism in the workplace," returns Minho, earning an eep from Felix. Seungmin doesn't retaliate, so he continues. "Looking up someone's history and background online isn't how I want to get to know a person. Whether they're a saint or a sinner, I'd rather they tell it to my face. It feels more genuine that way."

"Your character arc's unbelievable considering that the other day, you were talking about the curvature of the man's ass in detail, and now you're presenting an argument against taking advantage of the internet for socialization purposes."

"I'm holistic like that."

Because two trays are needed for Table 8's order, Minho gets help from Felix carrying the one with drinks so they can serve everything in one go. Though he holds back on the descriptions again, Jisung doesn't mind him doing so anymore. He revels in how they 've come to an understanding sans an actual discussion.

"Thank you," says Jisung after everything has been placed on the table.

"Enjoy," responds Minho. Since a customer is at the cashier, Felix has quickened his pace and is already a few steps ahead when Minho turns around. That's why he's the only one near enough to catch what Chan tries but fails to whisper.

"The Prince is as stunning as you said he was."

"Shush, hyung!" scolds Jisung followed by the sound of a mild slap. "He might hear you!"

Deducing that he's overheard something he shouldn't have, Minho keeps going until he reaches the kitchen and deposits the tray he's holding. A mixture of emotions washes over him, the most prominent of them being confusion and astonishment. On top of that, question after question forms in his head, from does that mean he's bisexual to what was the thought process behind the codename to HAVE WE BEEN MUTUALLY ATTRACTED TO EACH OTHER ALL ALONG.

"Dude, are you okay?" asks Jiyeong. "You look pale."

"I'm fine," stammers Minho. He faces the door, stealthily peeks into its small, circular window, and sees Jisung and his friends talking animatedly. Nothing suspicious there.

However, Chan glances at the counter where Felix is still dealing with a customer before saying something to the other two. Afterward, Jisung's eyes flicker to Felix for hardly a second, almost as though he doesn't want to get caught, and when he speaks again, it's clear that he's flustered.

It doesn't take long for Minho to connect the dots.

And realize just how horrible the big picture is.

🌼🌼🌼

Without concrete, indisputable proof to present and for fear that no one would believe him, Minho manages to keep his accidental discovery to himself for a few days. It's not like he can talk about the matter with Seungmin, either, because he's closer to Felix than Minho is, so he might not be able to stop himself from spilling the secret (and maybe Minho has trust issues).

But on the fourth day, Minho sees the way Jisung smiles at Felix while the former is paying at the counter, and he's suddenly bombarded with images involving Jisung confessing to Felix, Felix accepting Jisung, Jisung and Felix going on wholesome dates, Jisung and Felix going on not-so-wholesome dates, Jisung getting down on one knee with a ring, Jisung and Felix getting ma—

In other words, Minho loses it, so he goes to the staff room in a calm yet hurried manner, unknowingly missing Jisung's small wave of goodbye for him, and pulls up Changbin's number on his phone.

A part of him knows that his friend, whom he'd met in high school, might not pick up because a phone call from Minho is as frequent as a leap year. He forgets, though, that a lot of people who aren't him actually use their mobiles for telecommunication and not just social media or games.

Changbin answers on the second ring. "Hyung? Everything alright?"

"Yeah, why would you ask that?" asks Minho with a frown.

"It's Saturday," answers Changbin, "and I don't think your shift at work has ended, so I thought it was an emergency."

"I'm not dying physically, if that's what you want to know."

"That's a bit more worrying to hear, to be honest."

"Whatever," says Minho. "Are you free tonight? Can I hang out at your place?"

"Sure thing, but I won't be free until around seven. Does that work for you?"

"Yes. I'll cook dinner in return. Bye." Minho hangs up before Changbin can say another word.

He then wonders if he's taking the correct route or if he should keep the cesspool of his thoughts hidden from everyone. Perhaps if he pretended to know nothing, he'd be able to function properly again. He wouldn't avoid Jisung's eyes while serving his food, nor would he only have short conversations with Felix on purpose. He could continue believing that he has a shot with Jisung despite all the signs indicating otherwise being thrown at him. He would live out his days to the motto of 'ignorance is bliss.'

But if there's one thing he can't do, it's acting as though he's A-OK and there's nothing wrong when there is. Since he can't solve the problems plaguing him, he should at least vent his feelings for the sake of preventing either a breakdown or an outburst. Felix and Jisung don't deserve the way he's been treating them the past few days—therefore, he should fix himself as much as he can for their sake. He can't let his misery affect them, too.

"Damn, hyung, you should really open your own restaurant," comments Changbin after his second spoonful of kimchi jjigae. They're at his apartment, sitting cross-legged on the floor and facing each other around the oval coffee table, which they're using as a dining table. "I'm telling you, your food screams eight out of three Michelin stars."

Minho responds with, "I'm not about to take the fun out of cooking by turning it into a business." He takes a large swig of light beer followed by a shot of soju.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," goes Changbin. "You're not planning on dying in my living room, are you?"

"Relax, I know my limit," says Minho, trying some of the food he's cooked. "I need to loosen up a bit anyway if I intend to do what I came here to do."

"Is this another attempt to turn me into your unpaid therapist?"

"Yeah," answers Minho flatly. Another soju shot goes down his throat. "But before that, how've you been? Do you still have the hots for Seungmin?"

Changbin almost spits out the rice in his mouth. "I forget you're incapable of beating around the bush. To answer your question, yes, I still like him, yet he's still not my boyfriend, so we're essentially in the same boat, hyung."

"Speak for yourself. Jisung's been my doting husband for a decade and counting."

"Jisung? That's Mr. Blanket's name?"

"Yup. His friends came into the cafe, and one of them said it out loud."

"Nice. I really thought it'd take much longer for you to get his name. You should've just asked him."

"And have him think I want to build him a house with my bare hands and raise a whole generation of cats with him? Nuh-uh, not gonna happen."

"Right, 'coz that would be the worst thing in the world," says Changbin as he opens his can of beer. "So what did you wanna talk about, hyung? You seem…okay to me."

"Does 'okay' apply to when you're forced to watch the love of your life fall for everyone but you?"

A line forms between Changbin's eyebrows. "Uh, no? Is that what happened? Did Jisung get together with someone?"

"No," answers Minho, mindlessly moving the vegetables in his bowl around. "I found out he's bisexual."

"Oh my god," gasps Changbin. "For real? That's per—"

"And he likes Felix."

Changbin goes from excited to gobsmacked in an instant. "No."

"Yes." Minho lets his friend process the information while he tosses back his beer. "He has a codename for him as well: the Prince. Isn't that so lovestruck of him?" He crushes the empty can in his hand before discarding it on the table.

"There must be some sort of misunderstanding," says Changbin, his internal panic reflected on his face. "How did you get that info?"

Minho gives him the abridged version of events, not wanting to recall the incident any longer than he has to. "So yeah, apparently my competition is now women and the most flawless man ever to exist after Jisung himself. I never knew the universe had such a sadistic sense of humor."

Changbin sighs and bites into a pork dumpling while thinking. "I'm sorry things are really sucky right now, hyung. I won't tell you things will get better because I don't know that for sure, but I'm always here for you, alright?"

"Thanks, Changbin-ah," says Minho. After a beat, he asks, "Do you think I should, I dunno, give up?"

"Give up? Give up?" scoffs Changbin, his voice getting louder and more forceful. "How are we even friends if you have that kind of mindset?"

"I'm just thinking logically, okay?" defends Minho. "I'm not Jisung's type, and I've been slapped on the face with that fact three times now—three! No matter what I do, I can never be Felix. I can't be effortlessly cute or sweet or kind to everyone or—"

"Stop, stop, stop!" says Changbin, waving his hands frantically. "First, you're wrong since you are all of those things but in your own way, and that's perfectly fine. Because of that, second, you don't have to be Felix to get Jisung to like you, hyung. People think they have a type, yet a lot of them end up dating or even marrying the exact opposite of whom they thought they wanted. And third, even if Jisung likes Felix, he hasn't made a move, so you still have a chance. What I'm saying is there's zero reason to throw in the towel. Get a hold of yourself. You're better than this."

For several seconds, Minho stares at Changbin with an unreadable expression to hide how moved he is, and then he goes, "You have an amazing gift for motivating people in crisis," making the other grin with self-pride. "Felix is also your friend, though."

Changbin lifts an eyebrow. "So what? He's not the enemy. If this were a game, 'defeating' him or whatever is only a side quest. Your main quest is to capture Jisung's heart—no more, no less."

"Since when did you start using gaming as a metaphor for life?" chuckles Minho.

"Don't change the subject. My point is, you shouldn't lose hope no matter what. Love is a battlefield, and you're better equipped than you think you are, so go there and win, got it?"

"...Fine, I will."

"Good," says Changbin, pleased with himself. "Now you won't have to touch that second bottle of soju."

"Don't make me laugh," smirks Minho. He pours himself another shot of the clear liquid and consumes it in one gulp. "We'll sit here until that third bottle in the fridge is empty."

"You brought three?!"

🌼🌼🌼

When Monday rolls around, Minho has cleared his head enough to be his non-brooding self. He and Felix interact as they normally would, and Felix doesn't ask for an explanation for the other's strange behavior in the previous week. Perhaps he attributes it to Minho's occasional moodiness, or he simply thinks that bygones will be bygones.

As for Jisung, Minho is able to relax in his presence again. The strain in his voice when he talks to him is gone, and his smiles for him reach his eyes. To prevent any form of envy from ruining his day, he makes it a point to look elsewhere whenever Jisung is at the counter paying for his food. Out of sight, out of mind.

In a nutshell, the weekdays go smoothly for everyone.

The start of the weekend, though, turns out to be not as nice.

"Is it just me, or does he bring a new girl here every two weeks?" asks Seungmin, keeping his voice soft as he observes Jisung entering the coffee shop accompanied by someone.

"Maybe that's the amount of time he needs to recover from the last unsuccessful date," answers Felix.

"Must be nice to be able to move on so quickly."

"Or maybe there's nothing to move on from," remarks Minho. "If you go out with someone you don't fancy that much, you can easily invite another person on a date. It's no biggie."

"That happened to me once," says Felix. "I went on one date with a girl who kept connecting every single topic of conversation to her favorite TV show, and it was, well, off-putting. I told her I wasn't up for a second date. Three days later, I agreed to go out with a dude who was on the varsity football team, and I'm glad I did 'coz he was a monster in bed."

"That's the one I told you not to end things with, right?" asks Minho.

"Yeah. I'm equally glad I didn't take your advice—I'm not a long-distance relationship type of person. Physical touch is my love language."

"Doesn't touching yourself count?" asks Seungmin and tries not to laugh at Felix glaring at him in response.

"Excuse me," comes Jisung's voice from Table 8.

Minho turns around and promptly goes to him. "Heya. The usual?"

"Yup, and some truffle cream pasta as well. Thank you," replies Jisung. His turquoise shirt, navy blue soft denim jacket, light distressed jeans, and red rubber shoes add to his youthful aura.

"Wonderful. And for you, miss?"

"What's your usual?" the girl asks Jisung out of curiosity.

"A large iced Americano and a slice of cheesecake," says Jisung.

The girl scrunches her nose. "I don't like either of those." She looks at Minho and goes, "I'll have an egg salad sandwich with potato crisps on the side, an Orange Cooler, and two scoops of coffee gelato."

"Would you like the gelato served right away?" asks Minho.

"Yes. I don't mind eating melted ice cream."

Red flag, thinks Minho half-jokingly. "Noted. I'll come right back with your meal."

"This one seems to be going well," comments Felix, having glanced at Jisung and Ms. Lukewarm Gelato fifteen minutes into their platonic-and-not-anywhere-near-romantic meeting. "Then again, the first one was the same, and it didn't amount to anything."

"You're pretty chill about this, hyung," says Seungmin to Minho, who's next to him arranging mugs and glasses on the wooden shelves.

"I'm saving my energy for more important things," remarks Minho. "I fretted over the first two for nothing, so it'd be better for me to keep my cool over this one."

"Ooh, I'm lovin' the attitude," coos Felix, giving Minho a quick side hug. "Hyung is so mature these days."

Minho glares at Felix. "Are you saying I was immature before?"

"I'd answer that one if it didn't mean getting an early ticket to the grave," replies Seungmin.

"I assure you, you have free access to eternal sleep anytime, Seungmin-ah."

It takes Jisung and Ms. Lukewarm Gelato another thirty minutes to talk and finish their food. At one point, the latter had picked up the white daisy on the table to inspect it more closely, and Minho had gotten worried that she would take it for herself. Fortunately, that never happens, and he sees the head of the flower sticking out of Jisung's cross body bag when Jisung approaches the counter.

Minho breathes a sigh of relief upon their exit.

Though perhaps he should've put it off because, contrary to his belief, the saga with Ms. Lukewarm Gelato has not ended.

"Heya," says Minho the following Tuesday. "The usual?"

"Yes," answers Jisung, "but I'd like it for takeaway this time. I'm just here to get my coffee and wait for someone."

That's new. "Alright, then. You can pay after I give your order to the cashier to speed things up further." He writes 'takeaway' on his notepad prior to showing it to Felix and then goes behind the counter to start packing the cheesecake. In less than five minutes, the takeaway paper bag is filled and ready. Of course, Minho has made sure that the flower inside won't be crushed. He carries it to Table 8 with care and says, "Here you go, sir."

"Wow, that was fast," chuckles Jisung, his laughter music to Minho's ears. "I'll stay here until my friend arrives, if that's okay."

"Yes, it's fine. Can I get you anything else while you wait? Water, perhaps?"

Jisung shakes his head. "I'm good. Thanks."

"I bet it's one of those two dudes from before," goes Felix after Minho relays to him and Seungmin what Jisung had said. "To be fair, even Jisung's friends are easy on the eyes."

"Birds of the same feather," comments Seungmin. "You think the one with curly hair's cute, don't you?"

"How'd you know?" asks Felix, frowning slightly.

"You have a thing for men who are athletes or have athletic bodies. That one had massive shoulders."

"And dimples. You're a sucker for those," adds Minho. "You're quite consistent, now that I think about it. So tell us: when will you confess to Hyunjin who plays football and has dimples?"

Felix's cheeks turn pink at the question. "I haven't found the right time to do it."

"You've had two years to tell him," reminds Seungmin.

"There hasn't been a right time in those two years," counters Felix in a weak voice.

"We keep telling you he likes you, but you won't listen," says Minho. "Too bad he won't make the first move 'coz he's even more scared of doing so than you are."

"I'm gonna tell him, I will, but I—"

Instead of asking what's wrong, Minho turns his head to find out what has caused his friend to stop talking. His own voice gets caught in his throat. Through the front door, he sees Ms. Lukewarm Gelato peering inside and smiling at Jisung, who stands up from his chair, heads out of the coffee shop, and walks away with her.

A pang of sadness hits Minho like a brick. Does this mean Jisung has found someone he hits it off with? Are they on their way to becoming an official couple, effectively giving Minho even less of a right to pursue Jisung? Has holding on to hope been futile?

"Minho-hyung…" says Felix, audibly concerned. "Are you okay?"

In case his voice cracks, Minho clears his throat before answering, "Yeah. Absolutely." He doesn't meet Felix's and Seungmin's eyes while speaking. "But, um, I need to get some air. I'll be right back."

Despite his resolve to leave, however, a bright color catches his eye even before he can take a step, causing him to look at Table 8. There he sees a small, square paper bag the color of a tangerine. It's sitting undisturbed on the chair to the left of the one Jisung prefers to sit on. Minho doesn't remember anything being at the table before Jisung had occupied it, so he figures it must belong to Jisung himself.

Naturally, he brings it home with him.

At his apartment hours later, Minho participates in a staring contest with the paper bag while he sips on a glass of Coke Zero. Though it's at the other end of the couch, quiet and unassuming, it looks almost sinister in how plain yet saturated it is. Until now, he hasn't looked at the item inside, but he knows that it's lightweight and that it hardly makes a sound even if the bag is moved.

After a few more minutes, Minho concludes that he should respect Jisung's privacy and refrain from checking what the bag contains. He still has to be professional about this, after all.

His orange cat, however, doesn't care about customer service ethics. The moment Minho stands up to go to the kitchen, the feline swats at the bag with much enthusiasm until it falls off the furniture and the object in it as well as a few pieces of yellow tissue paper are emancipated.

"Really, Soonie?" asks Minho, raising both of his eyebrows at his pet, which has found a new, cozy spot in the form of a paper bag. He scans the floor for anything that shouldn't be there, and sure enough, he spots a cream-colored lump near one of his potted indoor plants.

He squats down, picks it up, and turns it since it has fallen front side first. What looks back at him is a nonchalant but strangely lovable squid plushie only a couple of centimeters longer than his hand. It has two large dots for eyes, an L-shaped nose, and a straight line serving as its mouth. Two pink circles indicate its blushing cheeks, and its tentacles are tiny and soft.

The more Minho stares at it, the more he's reminded of Jisung, and the wider the grin on his face becomes.

After a quick shower, he gets into bed with the stuffed toy in hand, deciding where he should place it to keep it safe. Soonie could tear it to pieces if Minho goes for any of the accessible surfaces in his home. He also doesn't want to stuff it inside a drawer because it might get lonely and turn claustrophobic, as certain plushies tend to be.

With no other choice, he lays the squid beside him, making sure that its long head is resting on the pillow, and covers its tentacles with the blanket. He also turns on his cat-shaped night light so he can easily see and shoo away his real cat in case Soonie's inquisitiveness leads to chaos at an ungodly hour.

In the morning, Minho lets the squid accompany him while he drinks coffee, eats breakfast, stretches on a yoga mat, and changes into fresh clothes following his shower. He pokes it in several places a few times and thinks about how much he wants to be able to poke Jisung's round cheeks someday.

"Oh my god," giggles Felix after Minho pulls the toy out of the paper bag. "It looks so grumpy but also super-duper cute! He has good taste."

"You mean weird taste," comments Seungmin while watching Felix gently squeeze the plushie. "I feel like if I'm alone in a room with that thing, it'll start moving the moment I turn away."

"For your information, Squiggles behaved the entire night," says Minho, "but I can tell it doesn't approve of you judging him so quickly. I wouldn't blame it if it were to come out from under your bed one night and drown you in ink."

The sound of the entrance door opening prompts the three of them to step away from their mini huddle. As soon as Minho sees that the customer is Jisung, he slips Squiggles back into the paper bag, which he then hands to Felix for temporary safekeeping.

"Heya," greets Minho as casually as possible so his surprise won't be spoiled. "Are you having the usual?"

"The usual, yes," answers Jisung, sounding distracted. "Thanks."

At the counter, Minho places the paper bag on a tray along with Jisung's drink, dessert, and daisy. He then takes a deep breath before going to Table 8 and making his favorite customer smile with his descriptions. "And," he says once he's given the flower, "a lost-but-now-found paper bag making its way back to its owner."

Jisung gasps, his mouth forming an O the moment the paper bag is shown to him. He blinks at it for a few seconds before making eye contact with Minho and going, "I've been looking for this. Thank you so much for returning it."

"It's not a problem, sir," returns Minho. "All in a day's work." He has already faced the opposite direction to let Jisung eat in peace, but his conscience tugs at him hard enough to force him to turn back around and say what's on his mind. "Sir, I'm afraid there's something I need to apologize for."

"Oh? What is it?" asks Jisung, eyes wide in interest.

The tip of Minho's tongue darts out to wet his lips due to nervousness. "Well, we don't have an appropriate place to store your paper bag here, so I had to bring it home with me," explains Minho. "I swear I wasn't going to look inside it or anything because there could've been a highly personal item there, but my cat sort of played with it, and when it fell to the floor, the plushie tumbled out of it. I'd like to say sorry because I should've kept an eye on Soonie and protected your privacy better."

Jisung responds after three quick blinks. "No, um, it's fine, really," he says with a lopsided grin. "It's a toy, not a priceless Egyptian artifact or whatever. I'm still grateful you gave it back to me, regardless of whether or not you saw it beforehand."

"Thank you, sir. And for the record, I think the plushie's adorable. I've never seen anything like it."

"Ah, yeah." Jisung lifts out Squiggles, which is as stoic as ever. "I thought so, too. That's why I bought it."

"I'm sure the person who's going to receive it will be pleased."

That's when Jisung's happy expression fades, triggering panic in Minho's brain. Had Minho said something wrong without realizing it? Is he about to get an earful from Jisung, who hasn't been rude to any of the staff members even once?

"I doubt the original recipient will accept it now," says Jisung in a softer voice. "She told me that even if she finds my company enjoyable, she can't imagine us seeing each other romantically. 'Some people are meant to be just friends,' she said." He uses his thumbs to stroke the squid's velvety cheeks.

Minho's heart hurts for him, but there's nothing he can do or say except for, "I'm sorry to hear that, sir."

"It's okay. I have bad luck with dating, I guess." In spite of the positivity in his tone, the disappointment in his face can't be denied. His eyes dart from one random point on the table to the next, like he's currently deep in thought. Minho almost gives in to the urge to say something else when Jisung's bright expression resurfaces and their eyes meet. "Would you like to have it?" he asks.

For a moment, Minho's language comprehension fails him. "S-sorry, what was that? Would I like to have what?"

"This plushie," answers Jisung, pointing at the squid he's holding up with his left hand. "I mean, I have a pig pillow on my bed from my older brother, and it's nice to hug and all, but I'm not a fan of stuffed toys in general. If I keep this one, it'll end up somewhere in my apartment and collect dust. My friends are the same, so I also can't give it to any of them. It'd be best for you to have it since you already like it, which tells me you'll take good care of it."

Minho prides himself on how fast he can think. This has saved him from embarrassment and ridicule in the most stressful times, and it has enabled him to win countless arguments.

Right now, though, his mind draws a blank as to how he can decline in the kindest manner possible the offer that's been presented to him. Truth be told, if he and Jisung weren't in an employee-customer setting, he'd accept Squiggles in a heartbeat—he's already given it a name, for chrissakes. But given that that's not the case, it wouldn't be right to go for the affirmative answer.

Jisung must've sensed his hesitation because he says in a voice glazed with honey, drizzled with chocolate, and sprinkled with powdered sugar, "Please?"

That one syllable invalidates all other arguments and, perhaps, sends a euphoric shiver through Minho's entire body.

"Okay, sure," says Minho, making sure that he sounds far less excited than he actually is.

Jisung's smile at that moment is his loveliest one yet. "Oh my god, I really thought you'd say no. Thank you!" He puts Squiggles back into the container before lifting the paper bag closer to Minho. "This is a bit unconventional by gift-giving standards, but I'm glad I got this chance to give you something instead of the other way around, Minho-ssi."

Though it's the second instance that Jisung has said Minho's name, Minho is just as affected by it as he had been the first time. He likes how gently Jisung says it, enunciating it as he would treat a delicate glass ornament. And unlike when he's teasing his friends, Jisung uses a deeper register to address Minho, who wouldn't mind swimming in such vocal depth in a more…private situation.

"I'll look after Squi—this plushie well," assures Minho with a smile. "For now, I'll just keep it in my locker 'coz I don't think I'm allowed to carry a toy while I'm working."

"Of course," says Jisung. "You're free to do anything you want with it since it's yours."

Can you be mine, too? "Right. I'll leave you to enjoy your food, then."

Felix beams at Minho and Seungmin gives him a thumbs-up as he walks past them to walk through the kitchen and into the staff room. Once the door is fully closed, he leans on it and takes the soft toy to press it against his right cheek, smiling from ear to ear.

If anyone asks, Squiggles is his and Jisung's love child, period.

🌼🌼🌼

Maybe it's Mother Nature's way of keeping things balanced, but Minho doesn't appreciate how the rest of his week and the entirety of the next go after his sweetest moment with Jisung so far.

The good news: a handful of Minho's students have been chosen for a showcase. The not-that-terrible news: he has to spend extra hours with them after teaching his regular dances classes. And the bad news: instead of going home at nine at night, he leaves anywhere between one and two in the morning, commutes for half an hour, and either eats convenience store food before bed or passes out until his morning alarm goes off at seven-thirty, prompting him to prepare for work, which starts at nine.

By the second Saturday of inadequate sleep, exhaustion has seeped into and accumulated in Minho's bones, and even five shots of espresso aren't enough to extinguish it. There's only one wake-up call that snaps him out of his pitiful state, but it leaves a more repugnant taste in his mouth than the blackest coffee brewed by humankind.

"I was banking on him not to bring anyone today," comments Seungmin while Jisung helps his new female companion choose items on the menu, "but he's more consistent than I give him credit for."

"For some reason, I don't have a good feeling about this one," admits Felix.

Although Minho trusts Felix's intuition when it comes to people, upon looking at the girl, he's unsure whether it's correct this time. She seems pleasant enough in a high-waisted A-line skirt that reaches her knees, a tucked blouse, and a pair of flats. Her body language is indicative of her interest in Jisung as well. Minho can only guess what about her doesn't agree with Felix, and anyway, he doesn't have the energy to ponder on the matter.

Three minutes later, Jisung raises his hand and looks at Minho to get his attention.

"Heya," says Minho at Table 8. "Do you want the usual?"

"Yeah, along with a grilled cheese and thick-cut fries," replies Jisung. "I'd like saffron mayo for the sauce."

"And what would your order be, miss?"

"Greek salad, a mocha latte, and garlic bread bites," answers the girl. "Oh, and bring me a glass with ice for the water."

At the counter, Minho sees to it that he doesn't make any sound and faces his coworkers as he yawns into a loose fist. Blinking away the resulting tears, he tells Felix, "Nothing off about her, except for the fact that she's flirting with my man."

Felix shrugs and shakes his head. "I really can't put my finger on it, but just stay on your toes, hyung."

"Do I have to worry about her revealing that she's a slimy alien dressed as a human straight out of the Men in Black films?" asks Minho jokingly. Felix responds with a miffed expression. "Alright, alright, I'll walk on eggshells around her, mom."

By the time Table 8's order has been fulfilled, Minho senses his level of sleepiness increasing by the second. He takes a deep breath prior to carrying and delivering the loaded tray in hopes of feeling more awake. It doesn't work, though he considers it an achievement that his speech isn't slurred as he names each item he puts down on the table.

All is well until Ms. Maybe An Alien shakes her glass of ice the moment the tray is empty. Minho doesn't get it at first because she doesn't give him any sort of request, instead starting to narrate a story to Jisung, but his brain puts two and two together and tells him he should pour water for her. Using words is still in fashion, woman, he thinks. He picks up the pitcher, turns the cover so the opening in it and the spout line up, and tips the container forward.

On any other day, Minho would have no problem focusing on whatever task he's currently doing. But today is different, and in the middle of pouring, his attention is easily pulled by Jisung glancing at him. He returns it, they make eye contact, and Minho's heart skips a beat. In the same second that biological process occurs, the glass overflows with water.

And then the gates of hell are flung open.

The first to react is, of course, Ms. Maybe An Alien, who shrieks when she feels cold water hit her hand. Her scream shocks Minho and Jisung, causing them to flinch. The sudden movement leads to Minho hitting the glass sideways, and though it doesn't break, the water in it spills onto the table but mostly lands on Ms. Maybe An Alien's skirt. She shouts a second time and gets out of her chair, flailing her hands about in panic and looking down at the giant wet patch on her clothing.

Everything happens so fast that Jisung and Minho end up gawking at the whole scene. Thankfully, Minho springs into action well before the other can move. He rushes to the counter where an equally surprised Felix is already holding out a clean hand towel and returns to Ms. Maybe An Alien at once.

"I'm very, very, very sorry, miss," he says, showing her the piece of cloth he's retrieved. "Please use this to dry yourself. I can get another one if you need it. I'll also clean this up right away and—"

"You idiot!" yells Ms. Maybe An Alien. "Are you so incompetent that you can't even pour water without messing up? Do you know how much this skirt costs?!"

"That's enough, Hayoon-ssi," admonishes Jisung.

"If being a waiter is already rocket science to you," continues Hayoon in a condescending tone, either failing to or choosing not to listen to Jisung, "I suggest you go do something else that fits your IQ better, like collecting grocery carts at a parking lot or picking up trash that resembles your brain."

"I said that's enough!" bellows Jisung and goes to stand in between Minho and Hayoon. He takes the towel without looking at Minho and says more softly, "He already apologized and gave you a solution to the problem. Just wipe your skirt dry so we can go back to our meal—"

"No, he's ruined everything!" argues Hayoon, her face red in anger. "I came here to have a nice time, and what did I get? A simpleton with the motor skills of a toddler for a waiter and a damaged skirt!"

"Your skirt isn't damaged, okay? And could you please have some respect? You can't talk to people that way."

"I can talk to a brainless waiter however I want!" spits Hayoon. "I'm the customer, so I'm always right!"

"Not about that you're not," counters Jisung. "Just use this towel, sit back down, and eat what you ordered so we can all move on from this incident."

"I've lost my appetite." Her eyes land on Minho again. "You. This is all your fault!" She charges forward in an attempt to slap him, but Jisung blocks and immobilizes her by gently keeping his hands on her shoulders. Felix and Seungmin also appear at either side of Minho to shield him if needed. "Let go of me! Is that dumbass your friend? You should be taking my side!"

"He doesn't have to be my friend for me to know that he's in the right and you're in the wrong," says Jisung. "Please calm down, Hayoon-ssi. This is getting embarrassing."

Hayoon steps back, appalled. "You're saying I'm embarrassing?" she scoffs. "I didn't do this to myself. That asshole over there did, and you're not even man enough to stand up for me. You're a fucking joke—all of you are!" She then storms out of the coffee shop with everyone else from Jisung to Minho and his coworkers to six other customers staring after her.

Jisung takes a deep breath before turning to Minho with a pained expression. "I'm…really sorry about that," he says, to which Minho shakes his head to tell him the apology is unnecessary. Looking at Felix, he goes, "I'd like to pay and get everything for takeaway instead."

Felix nods. "Yes, sir. Please come to the counter when you're ready."

Meanwhile, Seungmin goes off to get a large tray.

"I know it's easier said than done, but try to forget everything she said, Minho-ssi," suggests Jisung. "None of it was true, and it's not worth looking back on."

"I think I won't have a hard time with that 'coz I don't even remember what I had for dinner last night," jests Minho, smiling a little.

"Same here," snickers Jisung before returning the towel to Minho. "I'll just…go and pay now."

Minho nods and then cleans up the puddle on the floor with the mop Seungmin has brought. He also wipes the table dry and arranges the chairs. When he looks at his hands, he sees that they're still shaking. He's just thankful that this is his last shift for the week, so he can spend the remaining hours of Saturday and the whole of Sunday recovering from his worst customer encounter to date.

His eyes go to the door when he hears it being opened, and from there, Jisung bids him farewell with a gentle wave and a matching grin. Minho reciprocates and watches him walk away through the glass.

It's a bad day, he tells himself, but it's certainly not a bad life.

🌼🌼🌼

Having slept through most of the weekend and having spent his waking hours in bed cuddling with his cat and Squiggles while watching movies, Minho comes to work on Monday refreshed. The manager had told him he could take the day off as a mental health break, but he'd refused the offer because of his strong sense of responsibility. Also, he doesn't want to miss seeing Jisung.

Felix's morning hug for him is tighter and longer than usual.

"Have you turned into a boa constrictor?" asks Minho. "I thought your spirit animal was a chick."

"I'm transferring as much of my positive energy as I can to you," answers Felix, "so it'll take a while."

"The customers can see us, you know."

"We have nice customers. They're not snitches."

"Stop making Hyunjin jealous," says Seungmin while looking for something in the lower cabinets.

Felix clicks his tongue and lets go of Minho. "Why would he even be jealous? We're not dating."

"Yet you stopped hugging me," remarks Minho, smirking.

"Shut it, hyung."

Seungmin chuckles. "Looks like you transferred too much of your positivity, Lix."

Three hours later, Minho starts getting worried when Jisung still hasn't turned up. It's Jisung's routine to come in the morning even if it's just a quick visit and then leave before lunch more often than not. Is he sick? Has he gotten busy all of a sudden? Could heavy traffic due to an accident of sorts be the reason for his tardiness? The possibility that the Date From Hell has something to do with it crosses Minho's mind, but hadn't Jisung been the one to say they should forget about it?

"What if he moved to another country without my knowledge?" complains Minho. "How do I chase a guy whose full name I don't even know?" 

"He'll be here," says Felix. "I'm sure of it."

As difficult as it is, Minho hangs on to his friend's words and continues to watch for a human quokka to walk into the coffee shop. Sadly, his patience isn't rewarded because Jisung doesn't show up, leaving him in low spirits as he clocks out and exits the establishment.

"Minho-ssi?"

It would be an understatement to say that Minho perks up at the sound of the voice he has come to love most. He hears a hallelujah chorus go off in his brain and feels his heart doing somersaults. Slowly, he turns to the left and finds Jisung standing only a couple of feet away. He's stunning in an all-black shirt-and-jeans combo.

"Heya," says Minho, more out of habit than anything. "Were you about to come in?"

"No," replies Jisung, taking a step forward. "I'm here to see you."

Minho's knees go weak at that statement. "Did you need anything from me?"

"Yeah, kinda," says Jisung and walks toward Minho until he's only half an arm's length away. "I know we should put this behind us, but I still regret what happened last Saturday, especially since I should've done more to protect you at that time."

"You acted as a wall between me and your companion," goes Minho. "I'd probably have bruises on my face right now if it weren't for you. You were the one who tried pacifying her as well."

"I failed, though. She was able to say all that shit to you."

Minho summons all his self-control so as not to smile upon hearing the swear word coming out of Jisung's pretty mouth. "It's fine. Dealing with irate people is part of the job, and I did spill a good amount of water on her, so I'm not blameless."

"But you did all you could to remedy the situation, and she reacted like you'd blown up her car or something. You didn't deserve that treatment. There was no excuse for her behavior at all, and for that I'm truly, wholeheartedly sorry, Minho-ssi."

There's more sadness on Jisung's face now compared to the way he'd looked the previous Saturday. Minho guesses that Jisung had gone against his own advice and had dwelled on the incident during their time apart. It pains Minho to not know what he can say to make the other feel even a little bit better.

"I've thought about it," continues Jisung, "and there's no way I can leave things as they are, so I'd like to treat you someplace over the weekend when you're free—if you'd let me, of course."

Minho gets disoriented for a second. "Treat me, you said? As in, like, uh…"

"I'll treat you to food," explains Jisung with a smile. "Anything you'd like, though probably not fine dining 'coz the serving sizes will likely be terrible and you know how the prices are for those things. I don't mind spending money on food, but if it won't even fill me up, then it's not worth it, right? I was thinking we could do lunch, but if you're not available 'till dinner, that's okay, too. It's not like it's going to take us three hours to finish eating or whatever.

"Regarding safety, it might not be enough to declare that I'm not an ax murderer, so I assure you that we'll be in a public place where there's lots of people. You can text one of your friends every ten minutes to let them know that you're alive and, hopefully, eating something delicious.

"So yeah, I had this entire coherent speech in my head before you went out, though obviously I've forgotten it, and now I'm just rambling and getting more and more nervous 'coz you might say no not to the invitation itself but to what it has become, which is a ridiculously long monologue. I still wish you'd agree 'coz you were treated horribly even if you're a super nice person, and this is the only way I can think of to somehow make up for everything."

Had Jisung been somebody else, Minho would've tuned everything out after the second sentence and walked away in annoyance. But since he's Minho's honeybunch, sugarplum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin, Minho listens to every syllable as his eyes take in Jisung's dark hair and brows, doe eyes, slim nose, bubbly cheeks, bright teeth, and pouty mouth. He's so gone for him that it's bordering on pathetic.

The icing on the cake, though, is how Jisung's jittery disposition while speaking only adds to his charm. It makes Minho want to spread him out on a table and feast on him.

But first, he has to give a proper response. "Sounds good. What restaurant did you have in mind?"

Jisung breaks into a wide grin. "I have a few options just in case, but are you up for some Indian food?"

Goddamn, even his taste buds are impeccable. "I wouldn't trust anyone who says no to Indian food."

"Neither would I," giggles Jisung. "My friends told me about a newly opened Indian restaurant around fifteen minutes by bus from here. When do you have free time?"

"Sunday at lunchtime," says Minho after thinking about his near-future plans.

"Great! We can meet here at noon and go there together."

"Okay, let's do that."

Jisung grins and then to Minho's second surprise of the day, puts out his right hand. "I'm Jisung, by the way, Han Jisung. I'm sorry for introducing myself so late, Minho-ssi."

Stop saying my name outside of bed or else I'm carrying you to my apartment right now. "I'm Lee Minho." Despite being worried about his possibly clammy palm, Minho gives Jisung's hand a firm shake, silently noting how nicely it fits into his own. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jisung-ssi."

"What year were you born?"

"1998."

"Oh. You're Minho-hyung, then. I was born in 2000."

"Huh. Same age as the guys I'm often on duty with. You should hang out with them sometime, too."

"Maybe once my social battery's at full capacity," says Jisung. "I don't do well interacting with new people in general."

"There's no pressure. Besides, I'm much better company than they are."

Jisung's laughter could banish corruption off the face of the Earth. "I don't doubt that at all," he says. Just then, he notices that their handshake is still ongoing. "Oh god, I'm so sorry," he says and pulls away, much to the other's dismay.

When Minho lowers his hand to his side, he's careful not to come into contact with anything, not even his clothes. "Now that that's settled, I'll see you…every day of this week, I guess?"

"Mm-hmm," agrees Jisung. "I just hope you don't get sick of me before Sunday comes."

You're cute. STOP. "Not gonna happen," says Minho, "unless one of your companions attacks me again."

Even though his jaw drops, Jisung is undeniably amused. He looks like he wants to do a counterattack, but he fails and chuckles it off instead.

"I'm kidding," assures Minho. He spends two seconds simply holding the other's gaze in silence before saying, "Goodbye, Jisung."

"Goodbye, Minho-hyung," returns Jisung, grinning probably with the intention of making Minho lose more of his marbles.

Calm as an isolated lake, Minho walks in the opposite direction and keeps going until he's turned the first right corner he has to take. Once he's certain that he won't be seen by Jisung, he stops where he is, looks at his right palm with a huge smile on his face, and clasps his hands behind him to reenact their handshake.

And just like that, everything is right in the world once more.

🌼🌼🌼

As expected, Felix gets close to exploding with joy and Seungmin nods in a pleased sort of way when Minho shares with them what had happened yesterday. Of course, the only reason that Minho can tell them all about it in a composed manner is he'd used up all his giddy energy teaching at the dance studio last night and had sung his heart out in the shower that morning.

"How do I apply to be the best man at your wedding?" asks Felix, starry-eyed at the prospect.

"You're already the best man by default," comments Seungmin.

"I don't want it to be that easy," says Minho, smirking. "I'll create an obstacle course, and whoever gets to the end alive will be my best man."

"Since I'll give up the second the race starts, Hyunjin will be scared off by one part of the course for sure, Changbin-hyung hates cardio, and Felix fears nothing and is violently competitive, you'll still get the same result."

"I'm not 'violently competitive,'" complains Felix.

"I'd have to agree with Seungmin on that one," remarks Minho. "Remember when we played games at Hyunjin's kiddie birthday party last year?"

Felix's cheeks turn pink. "I didn't mean to hurt Changbin-hyung. Even he knows that."

"Doesn't change the fact that he landed face-first on the floor and had a nosebleed 'coz you wanted to win musical chairs," says Seungmin. "Also, you smacked me on the head with my own baseball bat."

"I was blindfolded and trying to hit the piñata!"

"You bumped against the table when it was my turn at Jenga," reminds Minho.

"Okay, so that was intentio—ack!" Felix scurries behind Seungmin after receiving a ticklish poke on the side. "Protect me, Seungminnie."

"You're the one with sixty-three Taekwondo medals," says Seungmin.

"But this is Minho-hyung I'm up against."

"You can use him as a shield," suggests Seungmin, pointing at Jisung who has just entered the cafe.

"Go to your husband-to-be, hyung," goes Felix, still hiding and shooing the other away.

"I'll come back for you, Freckles." While Minho's excited to talk with Jisung again, he keeps his cool, stands near the POS machine, and waits to be called over. He'd rather be caught dead than show he's ready to elope that very second and live happily ever after with the cutie at Table 8.

After a minute, Jisung says, "I'm ready to order," while raising his left hand and beaming at Minho.

"Heya, you're here for the usual?" asks Minho in the friendly-but-not-too-casual tone he uses for his regulars, although when it's Jisung he's speaking to, he tends to be extra-gentle. Seungmin describes it as disgustingly fond, which has a nice ring to it.

Jisung places an elbow on the table before resting one side of his face on his upturned palm. Minho can't help but think about how he'd love to nibble on the other's squished cheek for a good hour. "Am I here for the usual?" teases Jisung. "You tell me, Minho-hyung."

"I see now that it was wrong of me to give you my name, you punk," returns Minho, causing Jisung to snicker. "Guess I'll have to defrost the year-old cheesecake at the back of the freezer and serve it to you."

Instead of getting intimidated like most of Minho's acquaintances, Jisung throws his head back while laughing with more breath than sound. "Oddly enough, the idea of old cheesecake is still appetizing to me," he admits. "But since it might send me to the hospital and I can't be sick on Sunday, I'll have my usual iced Americano and fresh, youthful cheesecake, please and thank you."

"Coming right up, sir," says Minho, the last syllable almost coming out as a hiss. At the counter, he notices Felix and Seungmin staring at him instead of attending to Jisung's order. "What?"

"Your ears are all red," answers Seungmin as Felix giggles like a schoolgirl.

"I swear to god, Lix, I'm gonna tickle you until you pee your pants once my shift ends."

"Plenty of time for me to flee the country, then," says Felix with a shit-eating grin.

As he's loading up the tray, Minho remembers something Jisung had said and gets a fantastic idea. He only says the names of Jisung's drink and dessert, and when Jisung questions him with his eyes, he says, "Didn't you mention that you have a bit of an issue with socializing with new people?"

"Uh, yeah," replies Jisung. "Why?"

"Well, technically, we're new to one another because we had our first legitimate conversation only yesterday," explains Minho. "Now, I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable with me, so why don't we share one fact about ourselves every day until Sunday? We'll slowly get to know each other, and by the time we hang out together, we won't be strangers anymore. How's that sound?"

A smile grows on Jisung's face during the time it takes for Minho to tell him about the whole thing. He responds with an eager nod and asks, "Are we doing it here? Like right now?"

"We can start tomorrow," says Minho. "The facts don't have to be deep; simpler is better. Also, no need to elaborate. That'll take less time, which is good for me 'coz I don't get paid to talk to a single customer during my entire shift, especially not a brat like someone I know…"

"Okay, tomorrow it is," agrees Jisung, whose grin hasn't faltered at all. "I'll try to give you something good."

Minho finds the excessively happy expression on the other's face too suspicious to ignore. "Don't make me regret proposing this, Jisung-ssi."

"Sorry, but I think that's too big a commitment for me," remarks Jisung before taking a long sip of his caffeinated beverage and enjoying the view of Minho exerting effort into appearing annoyed but still ending up looking more amused than he'd like.

🌼🌼🌼

"Why do you get to have a cute love story and I'm stuck being unrequitedly in love with a tease?" is the first thing Changbin says over the phone upon getting updated on all the Jisung-related events he's missed.

"What're you talking about? I'm also a member of the Pining But Not Being Pined Over Club," goes Minho, popping a sour cream potato chip into his mouth. He'd allowed the showcase participants to practice on their own tonight, so he'd gotten home at nine thirty. "I'm glad Jisung isn't a tease, though. That'd be a double whammy right there."

"Wow. Thanks for the overwhelming sympathy and solidarity, hyung."

"Anytime, Binnie-ya."

"At least you're making steady progress," remarks Changbin. "You went from not knowing his name to going out with him—"

"As acquaintances," interjects Minho.

"—within, what, a little over a month? I confessed to Seungmin last year, for fuck's sake."

Minho tries not to laugh at his friend's misery. "Would it make you feel a tad better to know that he mentions you in conversations once a day minimum?"

"He does?" Minho hears rustling, so he assumes that Changbin is either on the couch or the bed and has shifted his position. "What… In what situations does he bring me up?"

"For example, whenever someone orders Dark Chocolate, he calls it 'Changbinnie-hyung's coffee' 'coz it's your go-to drink," answers Minho, happy that he can make up for his semi-sadistic behavior by giving his friend hope. "If we take a break at the same time, he talks about something stupid you did the previous day or shares a joke you've told him that he finds funny. But I dunno if he's aware that he does it at all."

"Are you saying I have a shot with him?" asks Changbin in a more upbeat tone.

"I'm saying, Changbin-ah, that you're the one who said love is a battlefield."

"Strictly speaking, it was Pat Benatar who said that in her song."

"Don't be a smartass. My kindness only goes so deep."

"Whoops. I forgot you had a niceness quota. Anywho, have you thought about which facts you'll go for? You don't wanna give away too much lest it ruins the mystery."

"Did you just use 'lest'? What century are we—forget it. No, I haven't decided on that yet, though yeah, I'm aiming for a balance between GTK and TMI."

"GTK?"

"Good to know."

"You just made that up."

"You've demonstrated that you're not updated on your acronyms. Do you want me to BYA, Seo Changbin?" Minho deliberately chews on his chips more loudly to send a subtle threat to his friend.

"I think I know what that means. No, geez, what's gotten into you, hyung? You're so…hostile today."

Minho lets out a heavy sigh and drops back onto his couch with a thump. "Sorry. I'm getting worked up over this is all. I literally did this to myself. Did I do the right thing?"

"Yes, you did, especially because you had good intentions," says Changbin. "Just keep it together, and everything will be fine. Think of it as a four-day ice breaker."

"When you put it that way, it sounds more like I'm face-to-face with an iceberg."

"That's fitting, then. You're Rose, and Jisung is Jack."

Minho hangs up.

Armed with Changbin's words of encouragement, a good night's sleep, a hearty breakfast, and complimentary Loners' Cafe coffee, Minho is as cool as a cucumber when the time for him to talk to Jisung again arrives. That's not to say his cheeks don't warm up at how delightful of an eye candy the other is in a white hoodie with a dark teal polyester jacket unzipped over it and a pair of loose-fitting jeans. "Heya. Going with the usual?"

"Yes, and please get me the Minho-Hyung Fact Of The Day. Thanks," answers Jisung without any effort to hide his excitement.

Meanwhile, Minho's eagerness becomes apparent in the longer strides he takes getting to and from Table 8 and the extra-efficient way he separates a slice of cheesecake from the whole. Only after the daisy has touched the table does he speak. "I have an eleven-year-old ginger cat named Soonie, and I adopted him from a shelter."

Jisung's expression softens. "That's really cute. I love cats, too. They're so majestic and independent."

"Is that your fact? That you're a cat lover?"

"No, no, no," says Jisung quickly. "It's my reaction to your fact. Is that okay?" Minho nods. "Um, as for me, I can play four instruments: acoustic guitar, drums, piano, and recorder."

A crease appears between Minho's eyebrows. "Recorder? The instrument that kids play?"

"I could introduce you to at least four adults—apart from myself—who are recorder players," informs Jisung, the left side of his mouth pulled up in a smirk. He pauses, and then speaks more slowly as he chooses his words. "I started learning it when I was ten, and I never looked back. It sounds…like you're standing right beside a clearing in a forest, and you see sunlight filtering through the tall trees and turning the grass into white gold where it hits the blades the hardest. You could be lost for all you know, but even that doesn't cross your mind with that much beauty in front of you. It's worth it, you think. That's how I feel when I listen to and play the recorder."

It takes a few moments for Minho to respond because one, Jisung has gone against his advice of choosing simplicity and in the process has caught him off guard, and two, Jisung's eloquence has shattered Minho's conclusion that he can't possibly fall for Jisung even more.

He puts on a standard smile to cover up how endeared he is at that moment. "I wish I could share the same sentiment, Jisung-ssi, but my only points of reference for recorders have been my fellow unskilled fifth graders."

Jisung snickers. "I'll play for you sometime so we can get rid of that horrible first impression."

"That'd be nice," says Minho, meaning it. "Thank you for sharing that with me. Mine was dull."

"Excuse you, having a cat is never dull," counters Jisung. "I can't even keep a cactus alive."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" jests Minho. He then sees a group of four making their way inside the cafe, new blood judging by their curious glances and slow steps. "I have guests to welcome."

"Go and do your thing, Cat Dad."

When Minho turns toward the other customers, the smile he shows them is purely Jisung induced.

🌼🌼🌼

After more than two weeks of practice, Minho's students have perfected their routine for the showcase and therefore don't have to stay for three or four hours after classes. This allows Minho to return to his apartment at a decent hour, which he deems to be anytime before midnight, play with Soonie, prepare a meal that doesn't come in vacuum-sealed packaging, and rest his weary body.

His mind, though, refuses to stop running around thoughts of Jisung and his handsome face and his vibrant smile and his (surprising) way with words. The first month into Minho's fixation on him, Minho had predicted that the infatuation would die out eventually. All other instances of attraction to strangers had dissipated in a matter of weeks for him, and so it would follow that his burning desire for Jisung would be extinguished in time.

Except it hasn't. It has raged on like wildfire and continues to make falling asleep a challenge for Minho on numerous nights, particularly when he has even the smallest amount of unspent energy by bedtime.

One quick fix is for Minho to meditate. Hyunjin had taught him how to do it a few years back when Minho had taken on three jobs simultaneously in order to afford Soonie's medical bills. If meditation could help him survive a hectic period in his life, then it should be effective for a milder issue, right?

Not necessarily. His fantasies and ideas about Jisung are too strong a force to be reckoned with.

The other solution is good ol' jacking off. He's done it on the bed, on the couch, and in the shower. On days when Jisung does something new to his hair or pulls on his hoodie and unintentionally gives Minho a glimpse of his collarbone, Minho does the deed twice. Or thrice. Four times is overkill…but he can't say it hasn't happened.

It takes two rounds of self-pleasuring to quiet Minho's mind that night. Whether the background music of the explicit scenes he sees behind his eyelids comes from a recorder is only for him to know.

"Let's take turns in going first," suggests Minho the following day after bringing Jisung his favorite drink-and-dessert combo. "What's your Thursday personal fact?" Please don't say another thing that'll fuel my libido, he begs telepathically.

"I got carried away yesterday, so I'll make it concise this time," says Jisung, pink in the cheeks. "Okay. I spent seven years in Malaysia when I was a kid. Done. That's it."

"Interesting," muses Minho. "Mine is the opposite. Kind of."

"Yeah? Go on, then."

"I've never stepped foot outside of South Korea."

"Oh. That's understandable. Traveling is expensive. I was only able to go abroad 'coz of my dad's job. I don't have the financial means to do that on my own."

"Maybe you should stop buying coffee and cheesecake six times a week so you can save up," teases Minho, eyeing the beverage and tart sitting in front of the other.

"And deprive you of my stunning visage? I think not, hyung."

Minho rolls his eyes, hoping that the warmth in his face isn't obvious. "You're insufferable."

"Am I?" asks Jisung while flashing a wide, innocent smile at Minho and twirling the yellow flower he's received in his right hand. "I find that hard to believe coming from you."

At a bar or a party, Jisung's playfulness would've earned him a rough push against the wall, a bruising kiss, and an enthusiastic blowjob from Minho. But reality is far more conservative, so Minho has to stomp down on whatever heated impulse is attempting to climb up his throat, say, "Believe me, that's the nicest adjective I can think of to describe you right now," and then casually walk away.

The upside of their for-your-information game is that Jisung seems to be having an easier time interacting with Minho as the days go by. The downside, however, is that Minho is finding it more and more difficult not to sweep Jisung off his feet and start a domestic life with him.

🌼🌼🌼

If Jisung's mischievousness has impressed Minho, it's Jisung's talent to annoy with minimal effort that gets to him come Friday.

In hindsight, Minho shouldn't have underestimated Jisung. The man has shown that he can do banter without backing down and match Minho's shift in energy at the drop of a hat. Still, Minho had been too focused on one-upping him to check his chosen approach for weak points. The second he thinks of it while watching Soonie make biscuits in the living room, he's sure that it will leave Jisung dumbfounded, which is favorite reaction from anybody.

And so Minho doesn't waste any time in executing his flawless plan the next morning.

"I'm a dancer," he states before looking at the other expectantly.

Jisung only blinks up at him for several beats. "What kind of dancer?" he asks, unaware of the trap he's about to fall into.

Hook, line, and sinker. "I'm not gonna answer that. Explanations aren't required, remember?"

The micro and macro expressions on Jisung's face go on a journey from neutral to puzzlement to clarity to disbelief. Minho has to cover his mouth with one hand to physically stop himself from laughing out loud. "You are cruel, hyung, holy crap," says Jisung. "You're taking advantage of my curiosity!"

"Maybe I'm just teaching you patience," says Minho after his need to laugh subsides.

Jisung shakes his head in double time. "Uh-uh. Nope. You don't strike me as someone who preaches. One of my friends, Channie-hyung, he's preachy, and you're nothing like him. You… You're the one people preach at, and this entire scheme is in character for you."

How Jisung can read him with frightening accuracy is beyond Minho, but he stops paying that any mind for now and celebrates his win by saying, "If you're gonna cry, do it at home. Otherwise, tell me your fact already."

At first, Jisung appears to be intimidated (as he should be) by Minho's statement. However, when he leans away and relaxes his facial muscles, it results in him looking intimidating. Minho swallows air because smug Jisung is HOT-MOTHERFUCKER-TAKE-ME-TO-CHURCH-SO-I-CAN-WORSHIP-YOU Jisung. "Two can play that game," he purrs. He lets a moment of silence pass between them and then declares, "I'm also a dancer."

Though Minho hears the words, he doesn't quite absorb their meaning. "W-what? No, that's—uh…"

"Is it that hard to believe?" asks Jisung, raising an eyebrow.

He's bluffing, Minho. Get a grip! "Save the lies for another time, Jisung-ssi," says Minho coolly.

"I'm telling the truth," insists Jisung. "I'd elaborate, but that'd take too much effort, don't you think?" But he doesn't stop there. Without taking his eyes off of Minho, he picks up his iced Americano and takes a sip, wholly satisfied with himself.

For once, Minho gets stumped. Jisung not only has beaten him at his own game but has also managed to unknowingly mess with his emotions. Never in all the months they've been aware of each other's existence that the possibility that Jisung can dance had occurred to Minho, and now he won't even be able to fantasize about it because he has no idea what kind of dancing Jisung does. The frustration of seeing the big picture while being deprived of the chance to get up close and examine the details is unbearable. He fears that the proverb 'curiosity killed the cat' will apply to him in a literal way very soon.

"Well played, Jisung-ssi, well played," he says, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "Tomorrow's the final day for this activity of ours. Did you save the best fact for last?"

"Maybe," shrugs Jisung. "You'll have to come to work to find out."

"Don't worry," says Minho as he takes a step back so he can carry on with his tasks. "I've had perfect attendance in half a year."

🌼🌼🌼

Although Minho already knows exactly what he'll be revealing to Jisung, it doesn't make him less apprehensive about it. It's all he can think about from the instant he wakes up to the moment he steps into the coffee shop. He's clueless as to where the nerves are coming from because his personal fact of the day is of no consequence, yet here he is placing his bag in his locker with sweaty palms.

When he returns to the front-of-house area, he sees a welcome but unusual distraction.

"'Morning, hyung!" greets Hyunjin, tall and lithe and unfairly regal as he wipes down the coffee bar counter. His bleached shoulder-length hair is tied in a half ponytail that suits him so much it hurts. "I can tell from your signature scowl that you've missed me oodles."

"I'm gonna smack you oodles if you say that word to me again," threatens Minho without sounding vicious. "What're you doing here? Where's Seungmin?"

"He's on leave, hyung," replies Felix as he flips the sign on the door from 'Sorry, We're Closed' to 'Welcome, We're Open.' "It's on the calendar."

"Jeongmin-noona will take my Friday shift so I can still have two days off within two weeks," adds Hyunjin. "Good thing she was looking for more hours."

Minho sees his chance at creating chaos and runs with it by asking, "And what were you looking for, Hyunjin-ah? A boyfriend, perhaps?" Though he notices Felix freeze up where he is by the condiment table, he keeps his eyes on Hyunjin and finds his blushing face amusing. "You're in luck 'coz I've seen a handful of fine men coming in on Saturday mornings. Maybe you'll encounter them today."

"I'm here to work, not flirt," says Hyunjin and then takes a quick look at Felix typing something before he continues. "But from what I've heard, you've been doing the latter."

Even if Felix's only reaction is a snort, it speaks volumes and puts a gotcha smile on Hyunjin's face.

Minho remains unfazed. "Seems like you've been doing a lot of gossiping as well." He approaches Hyunjin, who cowers slightly at their sudden proximity, and leans in to whisper into his ear, "I'm going out with my boy tomorrow. What about you and…Pop-Tart?" His friend's extremely flustered expression makes him giggle in triumph.

"You're mean, hyung," mumbles Hyunjin, putting away the cleaning cloth and using hand sanitizer afterward. "I'll get back at you for that, you'll see."

"Sure I will," says Minho as he walks past to go to Table 5 and attend to the cafe's first customers of the day. "I'll react as dramatically as possible so you can feel good about your cute little revenge plot."

Around an hour later, heavy rain starts pouring outside. Minho sees people with no umbrellas running on the street, and some choose to seek shelter under the coffee shop's awnings. A couple of them enter the cafe to have hot drinks while waiting out the bad weather.

Minho has just asked himself whether Jisung is the type to check the weather forecast before heading out of his house when the man walks in with haste without an umbrella. Though his color block jacket is waterproof, his dark blue jeans are not as indicated by the splotches on it. The most notable thing about him today is his damp hair through which he keeps running his fingers. Minho wants to sue him for looking so good doing the bare minimum.

"That's Mr. Blanket, right?" Minho hears Hyunjin ask Felix.

"Yup, that's Minho-hyung's hubby," answers Felix.

"I'm loving his outfit right now. He's more fashionable than I recall."

Minho turns to his coworkers and goes, "You know what I think of Mr. Blanket and his clothes?" Felix and Hyunjin shake their heads. "I think he'd be better off without them." His perfectly timed sleazy remark is rewarded with Hyunjin's groan of disgust and a surprised squeal from Felix.

"I suddenly miss my shiftmates," remarks Hyunjin, looking dejected. "How come I've never heard Seungmin complain about this?!"

"'Coz he's more fun than you give him credit for."

"He doesn't have a problem with…not-so-innocent matters," adds Felix.

"That's not the Seungmin I've known since we were in diapers," whines Hyunjin as though the world is coming to an end. "I blame you two. You've corrupted him."

Minho acts pleasantly startled and does a small bow. "Thank you. I'm honored."

Visibly unimpressed (and annoyed), Hyunjin says, "Can you just go there and serve him, hyung? He's trying to get your attention."

True enough, Jisung already has his hand raised halfway when Minho faces him. "Heya," greets Minho, smirking. "Do you want the usual…or would you like a towel first?"

Jisung pushes his hair back for the nth time with one hand, most likely just to drive Minho insane. "I was gonna grab my umbrella after checking the Weather app, but the sunshine deceived me. I should really have more faith in technology, huh?"

"At least you're dressed appropriately," comments Minho, choosing to forgo teasing this time out of mild pity for the wet hamster in front of him.

"Well, that's not quite accurate," says Jisung with a giggle, which catches Minho off guard because as he's cooing over the other's cuteness, Jisung pulls his jacket's zipper three-fourths of the way down to reveal a white tee with a neckline so low that Minho discovers just how well developed Jisung's pectoral muscles are. "I don't know where my head was, but I nearly went out the door with this shirt."

I know where my head wants to be. "It's a nice shirt," remarks Minho plainly, paying no heed to the unbridled want pumping in his veins. "Excuse me while I prepare your order."

"But I haven't—"

"We both know what you're gonna say, Jisung-ssi."

Jisung zips himself back up, much to Minho's relief, and asks, "What if I wanted something else?"

Minho sends an impatient glare Jisung's way. "Did you want something else?"

Three blinks with needlessly long pauses in between happen before Jisung replies with a soft, "No."

"Asshole," spits Minho under his breath and goes to the counter, leaving Jisung to cackle on his own. He must look pissed to the high heavens because neither Felix nor Hyunjin says a word to him even though they clearly have questions for him along the lines of what the hell happened and are you angry or are you horny. The second question he'd rather not reflect on because he swears he can still see the lines on Jisung's glorious chest every time he blinks and is therefore not functional enough of a human being to pinpoint what he is and isn't.

"I thought you weren't gonna give me a daisy today," admits Jisung when Minho brings him his order, including a flower. Though his mouth is curved into a charming smile, his eyes are filled with mischief.

"As a hyung, I have to act more mature than my dongsaengs," says Minho, "regardless of how infuriating a specific dongsaeng is." Jisung's smile widens at that. "So what do you have for me today?"

"Okay. I'll be good and let you ask follow-up questions if you have any, alright?" Minho responds with a nod. "So. My body count is zero," says Jisung in a much lower volume.

Once again, Minho thinks the statement is bullshit. It's not that Jisung looks like someone who paints the town white with his cum every weekend, but he has gone on four dates at the coffee shop alone and he's gorgeous from head to toe, so he shouldn't have a hard time getting laid. Minho acknowledges, though, that everyone has varying attitudes toward sex, so he goes, "Why? 'Coz you're a brat?"

"I'm guessing that's a big part of it," says Jisung, giggling. "The smaller part is that—as cliche as this sounds—the right person hasn't come along. I've kissed people, but when it progresses beyond that, I tap out, and I'm not sure why. Is that weird?"

"No, it's completely valid," answers Minho. "The experience will be ruined if you force yourself to sleep with someone anyway, so keep at it if that's what you're comfortable with."

"Yeah, my friends have said the same thing. Besides, I'd rather wait to be blown away than settle for a mediocre hookup." Minho wonders if the pun is intentional, but his thoughts are interrupted by Jisung saying, "Your turn, hyung."

Minho, remembering how much he'd fussed over the fact he's about to share and realizing how silly he's been, takes a deep breath and says, "Right. Well. I like men."

Perhaps Minho's incorrectly interpreting the facial expression he's seeing, but Jisung is…fascinated? "Have you always known?"

"Yeah. When I was a kid, I thought homosexuality was the norm 'coz I was never attracted to girls."

"What about your parents, then, and your friends' parents?"

Minho shrugs. "I thought they were outliers," he says, getting a laugh out of Jisung.

"That makes a ton of sense, though," comments Jisung. "I mean, kids only find out about social standards from adults. Grown-ups think they're better at everything, but children are more open-minded and have no sense of discrimination unless they're taught." He raises both eyebrows when Minho spends some seconds staring at him in silence. "...What?"

"You're as insightful as you are idiotic. It's extraordinary."

Before Jisung can respond, "I'm ready to order now," calls out a middle-aged man at Table 2, looking right at Minho. 

Jisung beams and mouths bye, while Minho leaves the tray he's holding on the table, knowing that Jisung wouldn't mind it, and walks over to the customer with his practiced polite smile.

The only other time Minho goes back to Table 8 is after serving Table 2's food. He walks by to pick up the tray there without making eye contact whatsoever with Jisung and stays away as his shift rolls on.

Hyunjin tells him his self-control is admirable, unaware that this is the way things have been for the past few days. Regardless of their budding friendship, Minho and Jisung don't forget where they are and act accordingly after their FYI game. Even when there's not much to do around the cafe, Minho stands in front of the counter, limiting himself to looking at Jisung for five seconds every ten minutes. He's content with them being in the same space, thankful that at least now they've stepped out of being strangers.

In the middle of putting away the used dinnerware on one of the tables, Minho feels a light tap on his elbow. He turns his head to the right and sees Jisung standing next to him and showing his unlocked phone, the screen of which is displaying the New Contact window.

"We should exchange numbers in case one of us decides to bail tomorrow," says Jisung with a lopsided grin. "That won't be me, of course, but it's just a precaution."

"I'm tempted to give you a fake number," teases Minho as he types in his real information. He saves it as 'Perfect Minho-Hyung,' to Jisung's delight. "Send me a message on KaTalk. I'll check my mobile later."

Jisung nods and pockets his phone. "Okay. I'm off, Minho-hyung. See ya tomorrow."

Minho hums in acknowledgement and keeps his eyes on Jisung until he can no longer be seen through the window. Once his shift ends, the less-than-twenty-four-hour countdown to their lunch begins.

And so does his panic over the entire thing.

🌼🌼🌼

It's nothing short of a miracle that Minho reaches Loners' Cafe early.

Although he'd had a good night's sleep cuddling Squiggles, the instant he goes from unconscious to conscious on Sunday morning, he becomes ill at ease for no reason. Even before first dates, he doesn't get this restless, and staring into space while petting Soonie and drinking extra-strong coffee on the couch don't help, either.

His body feels as though it's ready to spring into action at any moment, except nothing around him is in need of attention. The apartment is clean, he hasn't had breakfast yet so there are no dishes to wash, and he's watered his three plants. And if he chooses to slip back into bed, which is only less than a foot away from the back of the sofa, he's sure that he'd only toss and turn with how wide awake he is.

Fuck it, he thinks, rising to place his empty mug in the sink and then go to his dresser. I might pounce on Jisung if I don't do something. He changes into a pair of shorts and a plain shirt before packing his smallest backpack with a face towel, a jug of water, his phone, and his cat-shaped AirPods case.

Minutes later, he's at the gym inside the commercial building next door. Since he already has his job teaching dance, he doesn't come here often, but he appreciates that it's available to him whenever he has to blow off some steam.

Or calm himself down before spending time with the person he's going gaga for.

Thankfully, a forty-five minute-ish workout does the trick, and Minho heads back to his apartment feeling good and not an ounce of skittish. Not wanting to spoil his lunch, he opts for a chocolate protein shake and a banana prior to taking a long shower to ensure that his skin is lick-worthy clean (never mind whom he's thinking of to do just that).

There's still plenty of time for him to prepare when he gets out of the bathroom, so he sits back down on the sofa in his house clothes and watches random shows on TV as he's towel-drying his hair.

The trouble starts when he gets engrossed in a documentary about squirrels, which remind him of Jisung. Just as he's about to be introduced to flying squirrels, he hears a notification on his phone. He unlocks it without looking at it, and when he checks the screen, he sees a message from Jisung.

jONEtoTEN: no need for umbrellas today says the weather app, thought you'd like to know ^^

Minho grins and replies with, 'look at you being all modern and techie kkkk thanks.' He congratulates himself for not sounding as lovestruck as he actually is, but the celebration is cut short the moment he sees the timestamps of his and Jisung's messages. Essentially, he has to choose an outfit, tame his hair, and make it seem like he doesn't have pores within thirty-two minutes if he wants to catch the right bus and get to the coffee shop at the time he'd planned.

A string of Korean and English profanities fly out of his mouth as soon as he starts to get a move on. He throws on the first white shirt he sees, tucks it into a pair of stonewashed straight-leg jeans that he secures with a belt, and puts on a cobalt blue open cardigan. The only accessories he bothers with are two small silver hoops for his left ear and a silver stud in the shape of a stretching cat for his right ear.

As for his makeup, he goes for the same products he uses for work: light coverage foundation, concealer for his under-eye area and cheeks, pressed powder, and colorless lip balm. However, he also applies a small amount of reddish brown eye shadow in the hopes that the hue will captivate Jisung and have him staring into Minho's eyes long enough for him to realize who his soulmate is.

The last thing Minho has to fix is his hair. While his go-to style involving loose bangs covering most of his forehead is fine, he wants to change it up because it's the only one Jisung has ever seen. Minho had chosen it for his two jobs because people (Hyunjin and Changbin) have said that it makes him appear more approachable.

For this occasion, though, he doesn't intend to convey I wanna befriend you but rather I wanna bone you. He doesn't expect Jisung to rail him anytime soon, of course, but he sees no harm in dropping hints regarding his true intentions. And so he follows the natural parting of his hair, which is off to the right, and allows the strands to hide the entire left side of his forehead but keep the opposite area exposed. He then uses pomade for volume and texture.

Minho spends the last few minutes in his apartment for four things: a quick dab of perfume oil on the inside of his wrists and behind his ears, a small crossbody bag, a pair of black sneakers, and a proper head and belly rub for Soonie. After that, he's out the door, walking faster than he ever has in his life. His apartment is on the third floor, and the building has no elevator, so he has to be careful not to trip on the stairs. He doesn't want the cause of death to be 'rushing due to poor time management for a date that's not actually a date' on his death certificate.

Although it doesn't take long for him to catch a bus, the vehicle encounters heavy traffic along the way. He estimates that he'll be at the coffee shop before noon, but even that is unsatisfactory to him because he prefers to arrive for important appointments at least half an hour in advance in case the other person is sensitive to tardiness and so that he doesn't have to scramble to travel to his destination…like what he's doing right now.

Luckily, the stars align for Minho. He has ten minutes to spare, and Jisung has yet to arrive. He decides to head inside for a while where it's warmer.

"Wowzah, you look incredible, hyung," comments Hyunjin, who's on the morning shift every Sunday, once Minho goes to the counter. "I feel like tomorrow you won't be single anymore."

"This is a platonic get-together," says Minho, more to himself than his friend, "but if something happens, who am I to say no?"

"You're super pretty today, Minho-oppa," remarks Sanghee, the sole employee who's still in high school. She works as a cashier. "Can you give me tips on how to bag my crush, too?"

"I'm not 'bagging' anyone," lies Minho. "What I'm about to do is make a new friend." The last word resembles freshly squeezed lemon juice mixed with vinegar on his tongue.

Hyunjin exits the coffee bar so he's standing beside Minho. "So you're aiming for friends with benefits?"

Minho faces his friend and goes, "Ya, Hyunjin-ah, do you wanna find out what coffee beans feel when they're in—oof!" Before his upper eyelids can come into contact with his lower eyelids to complete the first half of a blink, Minho finds himself in Hyunjin's arms. There is zero space separating them, not even between their crotches, and Minho is so aghast that it takes him a full four seconds to whisper with restrained anger, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"An experiment," replies Hyunjin, unusually unbothered by the venom in Minho's voice. "I made an observation yesterday, came up with a hypothesis, and now I'm on the third step of the scientific method." To Minho's horror, Hyunjin's right hand slides down to his ass and squeezes. "Good lord, the data's spicier than I thought."

"Get. Your hands. Off of me," growls Minho softly. "The customers are right there."

"You have your regulars, and I have mine. Or maybe they're more like stalkers 'coz they follow me to my apartment sometimes. Either way, I bet they're enjoying this." As if on cue, the two girls at Table 3 giggle, and a phone camera shutter goes off from somewhere.

"I'll enjoy this more if my hands were around your neck, you perv."

"Mmm. Didn't know you were kinky. Just one more thing."

Minho goes rigid and has to suppress a gasp when Hyunjin nuzzles the side of his neck. Despite Hyunjin's godlike form, because Minho doesn't see him as more than a friend he enjoys terrorizing, the experience is akin to being cuddled by a human-sized cockroach. "I am this close to decapitating you in public."

"Alright, alright, I'm backing off," says Hyunjin, letting go of Minho and taking one step back. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

The disproportionately casual way Hyunjin is talking about his actions makes Minho's left eye twitch. "Would you like to come with me to the back for a moment so I can skin you alive?"

"You watch too many true-crime shows," answers Hyunjin. "But anyway, I don't think you can afford to waste more time on me 'coz…" His eyes move from Minho to something behind Minho, who understands right off the bat and, with dread in his bones, turns to see Jisung by the door.

Upon eye contact, Jisung pulls his right hand out of his jacket's front pocket and does a quick wave, visibly hesitant and confused at the scene before him.

Minho's stomach drops. "Heya, gimme a sec," he says with a smile that he hopes delivers the message of THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE. He then goes back to glaring at Hyunjin. "I know where you live."

"Yeah, and that's why I had my landlord install three locks at the front door," returns Hyunjin. "I did say I was gonna retaliate."

All's fair in love and war, Minho believes, but it doesn't make him any less vexed about Hyunjin's revenge. "Just watch your back," he hisses before approaching Jisung and pulling him by the arm out of the cafe without another word.

"You okay, hyung?" asks Jisung after Minho lets go of him outside.

"Yeah, very," replies Minho, unable to meet the other's eyes out of embarrassment. "We should go."

"Sure." Jisung leads the way to the bus stop closer to the cafe than the one Minho is more familiar with. There are a lot of people walking around, likely searching for a place to have lunch, but just three other individuals are waiting for the next bus when Jisung and Minho get to the stop.

Neither man speaks for a couple of minutes, but Jisung breaks the silence with, "Minho-hyung, was that your partner back there?"

"God, no!" answers Minho in a loud voice that startles Jisung and the strangers beside him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout. But no, he's not, he's not my partner. He's a friend, a really stupid friend I wanna pummel to the ground, but a friend nonetheless." Jisung nods to show that he's listening. However, Minho realizes that his statement might not be as clear as it should be, so he adds, "Oh, and it's not only that Hyunjin is not my partner—I don't have a partner. I'm single, super single, if such a thing exists."

A big smile blooms on Jisung's face. "I'm…glad to hear that. Thank you for the explanation."

On the bus, there aren't enough available seats, and Jisung insists that Minho take the one next to an old lady while he stands next to him on the aisle. So during the ride, Minho commits to memory what the other is wearing for their friend date: white trainers, black skinny jeans, an unzipped tangerine hoodie over an oversized taupe shirt, and a gray cap. With his full bangs on display and plump cheeks, Jisung has a perpetual air of youth about him, and Minho thinks it's one of his best qualities.

The Indian restaurant is called—and Minho would not believe it at first—Curry in a Hurry because, as stated on their website, everything is 'freshly made yet quickly served.' Despite the casual name, the interiors of the place are slightly more formal. The walls, two of which are bordered with tables, are the color of cream and painted with giant bronze mandalas lined up horizontally, and the floors are white with brown and white speckles. Each rectangular table is flanked by padded benches on which there are colorful throw pillows. The seats are back-to-back so that the next booth is right beside the previous one. Indoor plants dot the corners of the establishment, while bronze sculptural lighting fixtures resembling lotuses hang under the diluted emerald green ceiling.

"Whoa," says Jisung in a whisper upon entering. "This is pretty nice." They take the middle table at the right side, sitting in front of each other. Around them, four other tables are occupied. A waiter greets them, gives them menus, and walks away.

After scanning the listed items, Minho looks up at Jisung to ask, "Is there a price limit to what I can order?"

"No, you're free to order any amount of anything," replies Jisung. "It's totally on me."

"Okay. Thanks." After a minute, he says while still reading the menu, "Mind you, I worked out not so long ago, and the only solid thing I've eaten today is a banana. Your wallet better be prepared, Jisung-ssi."

Jisung chuckles. "I skipped breakfast for this, too. Don't worry 'coz I made sure I won't have to file for bankruptcy after this lunch. But hey, if my card doesn't work, we can always wash dishes to pay for everything, right?"

"...I'm not gonna ask why you have a plan B ready."

They agree to share everything they order so they can, as new customers, taste as many options as possible. They go for butter naan, garlic naan, vegetable samosa, lasooni palak, kadai paneer, butter chicken, and sweet lassi. Minho deliberately chooses mild food after Jisung mentions that he can't tolerate spice well. Jisung is the one who hails and talks to the waiter, and Minho tries not to stare at Jisung too much.

With the menus and the waiter gone, Minho has no choice but to look at the man across from him, which is a feat in itself because Jisung's adorable face makes him want to blast himself to the moon. But his nervousness is replaced by intrigue when he notices Jisung's subtly smoky eyes. "I don't think I've ever seen you with makeup," he says.

"I reserve it for hanging out with friends, if I can be bothered, and special occasions," informs Jisung.

"Ah. So under what category is this lunch, then?"

"I'd say both."

"I'd say the same." It's then that Minho remembers one of two things he's been dying to ask Jisung. "Now that we have a lot of time on our hands, could you tell me what kind of dancing you do?"

Jisung's lips stretch into a smile. "I knew you'd bring that up. Do I not look like a dancer to you?"

Minho squints at Jisung and thinks about the matter. In truth, it's not always easy to differentiate a dancer's physique from a non-dancer's physique because there's no ideal body type for most types of dance. From what Minho has observed, even if Jisung has wide shoulders and a strong chest (that Minho wants to lay his head on), he's petite everywhere else, and his legs in particular don't look strong enough for dancing. But Minho could be dead wrong, and Jisung didn't bat an eyelash when he gave his statement, so he goes for a safe answer. "I need proof."

"I also knew you were gonna say that," says Jisung with a grin before pulling out his phone and tapping it a few times. "Do you use TikTok?"

"No. The only social media app I have energy for is Twitter."

"Okay, that's fine. Just scroll up if you wanna see the next video." Jisung passes the device to Minho, who sees its owner on the screen standing in front of a brick wall. The music comes on quickly, and right then and there, Minho learns that Jisung isn't a dancer—he's an incredibly good dancer. Though some of his movements could be sharper, his overall style is fluid and cool in every sense of the word. The way he carries himself and his charismatic facial expressions heighten the appeal of his dancing as well.

Minho goes through five short videos in a row, and needless to say, he's truly a goner for Jisung. "How long have you been doing this?" he asks after managing to take his eyes off the screen.

"About one and a half years," replies Jisung. "I started making TikTok videos to relieve myself of school-related stress. Others loved them, so I kept going and got better. It's also a lot of fun, except when I don't know whether to grant people's requests or not."

"Requests? What kind of requests?"

Jisung bites his lower lip for a second and says, "There are easy ones, like they want me to dance to a certain song or with some of my TikToker friends. I can fulfill those right away, but a lot of the requests involve costumes or outfits they wanna see me in while dancing, and a majority of my followers have requested that I wear…women's clothing."

Minho's eyebrows shoot up. "They want you to cross-dress?"

"Yeah," answers Jisung. "They're determined to, at the very least, witness me dancing with a skirt on."

"Huh," says Minho, trying to wrap his head around the concept. "Is it because you do a lot of girl group dance covers?"

"That might've given them the idea, but there's a bigger reason, or should I say smaller reason?" With that, Jisung pulls his jacket aside without taking it off just so his tee is more visible, tugs at the shirt to turn it from baggy to fitted, and holds it in place. "People say that they're 'obsessed' with my twenty-seven-inch waist and that a skirt will emphasize it along with my 'big-for-a-skinny-guy bum.'" He stands up with the back of his jacket pulled up as well to give Minho a view of his side profile. "I think my bum is average, but what do you think, hyung?"

Jisung would be running for the hills if Minho were to relay his uncensored thoughts about Jisung's body. Because the younger man has worn nothing but loose tops that hide his torso and upper thighs, it's Minho's first time to encounter the curves being presented to him at the moment, and if he could have his way, he would already be tracing them with his fingers and tongue.

However, Minho keeps in mind that they're on a bro brunch, at a macho meeting, so there's no room for anything remotely suggestive. "I think it only seems plumper because of how slim your waist is," he comments as Jisung sits back down and fixes his clothes, "though I can't disagree with their take on the skirt. It'll suit you."

The remark prompts Jisung's cheeks to turn pink. "Yes, well, sales clerks might look at me funny if I buy a skirt at a brick-and-mortar, but if I shop online, the size might be wrong."

"I can accompany you if you'd like," says Minho before his brain-mouth filter can catch it. "Anything can be less embarrassing with a familiar face around."

"You'd do that?"

"Yeah, why not? I once went to a party at the last minute as a hotdog sandwich 'coz my friend thought it required costumes and dressed up as a burger."

Jisung is quick to cover his mouth to contain his laughter. "Where'd you get the hotdog costume?!"

"It belonged to that same friend," explains Minho, smirking at the memory of him and Changbin dancing drunk without a care as life-sized fast food. "He's big on Halloween, so he has a mini costume collection. I went to his apartment to get it and wear it, and everyone on the subway stared at me. It was fun."

"Hyung, that was really sweet of you," coos Jisung, still giggling. "And I bet those people were staring 'coz you were a hot hotdog."

Minho is saved from providing a coherent response to the compliment by the waiter's arrival. The serving sizes are generous, so once all the items are on their table, Jisung and Minho marvel at the feast before them. Everything looks and smells amazing. The two men dig in straight away, becoming too busy stuffing themselves to hold a conversation during the first few minutes of their meal. They exchange praises for the food, though, and laugh at the noises they make out of gastronomic satisfaction.

Two-thirds of the way through, they start talking about the basics, such as what they do (Jisung turns out to be a creative writing major in his third year, and Minho tells him about his job at the dance studio), a bit about their family life (Jisung has an older brother, while Minho is an only child), and their interests (Jisung writes songs and uploads them on YouTube, Minho enjoys cooking and camping, and they're both movie enthusiasts).

As the minutes tick by, Minho observes that they act more like old friends than recent acquaintances. There's no tension or awkwardness between them, and Jisung is amused even by Minho's bizarre statements (case in point: "I often think about how cool it is that when we're happy, our instinct is to show the only visible part of our skull.").

Minho comes to the conclusion that he'll gladly accept Jisung as a friend and nothing more if it means that Jisung will be a part of his life for good. Not that it doesn't sadden him, but he'll take what he can get at this point.

"Oh man, Indian food never disappoints," sighs Jisung after they exit the restaurant with full bellies and maybe six inside jokes. "I'm gonna have to thank Channie-hyung for recommending this place."

"Thank him for me, too. He was at the cafe once, right?" he asks, pretending not to know the answer.

"Yeah, him and Jeongin." Jisung starts walking away from the restaurant, so Minho falls into step beside him. "I met both of them in college, but Channie-hyung graduated two years ago."

"It's good that you've kept in contact with him."

"I know. No matter how busy he is, he manages to spend time with us."

"It's hard to maintain friendships from school once you enter the workforce," says Minho. "I only have one high school friend, Changbin, but I'm proud to say that I'm still friends with someone from childhood: Felix, the cashier at the cafe."

"The one who sounds like this," says Jisung in a low voice that has Minho reeling. "That angelic face doesn't go with that demonic timbre. I was floored when I first heard him speak."

I just dug my own grave, thinks Minho, already regretting mentioning Felix, but because Jisung is undoubtedly interested in the subject, he goes with the flow. "Same here. I thought he was just trying to be cool or whatever, but his voice never changed."

"It must be nice to sound and look like that," muses Jisung. "He's pretty much the entire package."

Minho is sure that this is the universe testing if he can be a proper friend to Jisung despite his romantic feelings for the man. As much as it pains him, he chooses to support Jisung's endeavors by saying, "Yeah, that's why it's hard for me to understand his being single." Great. Now I'm lying inside my coffin.

"He's single?" asks Jisung with a quirked eyebrow. "How is that possible?"

"I know someone who likes him, but that person's too much of a coward to pursue him openly." I can hear them burying me with soil.

"That's…unfortunate," says Jisung prior to clearing his throat and dry swallowing. Minho ignores both indicators of being on edge. "Oh, by the way, there's an art museum two blocks over, and admission is free. You wanna go, hyung?"

"Yeah, that sounds nice," answers Minho. "Then you'll buy us dessert after?"

The last question is a joke, but before Minho can say so, Jisung goes, "Good idea. To the museum!" He slips a hand around Minho's left wrist and gently pulls him along into a slightly faster walk. This causes Minho to chuckle and tell the other to hold his horses, to which Jisung responds with, "Since when did I become an equestrian? Or are you saying I look like a horse? Ya!"

"You're the one who said that, not me!" laughs Minho. Despite his aversion to cardio, he keeps up with Jisung's pace and turns his forearm so he can wrap his fingers around the other's wrist, too. It's not the hand-holding a la lovers he longs for, but given what they are and whom Jisung has his eyes set on, he tells himself that it's good enough.

It has to be.

🌼🌼🌼

"Eight yawns in five minutes," says Seungmin as Minho lets out an extra-long one that brings him to tears. "I reckon that's some sort of record."

"Did you practice with your students yesterday, hyung?" asks Felix.

Minho shakes his head. "I slept late, that's all," he answers and then flips another upside-down chair off the table before placing it on the floor. They've yet to open the coffee shop. "Jisung and I finished chatting at two in the morning, I think?"

"Chatting?" repeats Felix. "As in KakaoTalk chatting?"

"Yup."

Felix's squeal of delight fills the empty cafe and worsens Minho's headache. "Hyung! Congratulations!" He scurries from behind the counter to Table 6 where the sleepiest man in the land is and pulls him into a back hug. "I'm so, so, so happy for you!"

Unable to carry out his task, Minho looks at Seungmin and asks, "What am I missing here?"

"Based on the information you've given, it seems that Jisung likes you back," explains Seungmin.

"What? Don't be absurd," says Minho, disentangling himself from Felix. "We exchanged messages. That's it. It's not a big deal. I do that with all of my friends, including you two dummies."

"But not until early morning," counters Felix. "Also, you suck at replying to messages, yet you did just that with Jisung for hours. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"We don't know each other well yet, so naturally, we have plenty to talk about." Minho can't enumerate all of them, but he and Jisung had talked about everything from food to anime to YouTube videos.

"I recall sending you a message an hour after we met, and you read it two days later."

"Damn, I thought you never held grudges, Lix," teases Minho, smirking.

"I don't, but I have a good memory, and I'm trying to make a point here, hyung." Felix's expression tells the other two men that he's slowly losing his patience. This happens when he knows he's right but someone (usually Minho) attempts to break down his conviction.

"Look," says Minho after sliding a chair under Table 7, "when I got home from the museum—"

"Museum?" interjects Seungmin. "Didn't you guys have lunch at an Indian restaurant?"

"Yes, but afterward, he suggested that we visit a museum nearby. It wouldn't cost us a thing, so we went and walked around, burned off a bit of what we ate, and then we had ice cream for dessert before going home. Not together, okay, separately."

Silence looms over the coffee shop for several seconds until Felix remarks, "Sounds like a date to me."

Minho groans in slight frustration. "It wasn't a date, alright? We—" he says, gesturing at the three of them, "—have gone to restaurants and museums as friends, haven't we?"

"Okay, but it's interesting that he knew about the museum beforehand," says Seungmin in a thoughtful tone. "You said the meal was his way of making up for bringing, as you put it, 'a hellhound of a date' to the cafe, so what was the point of inviting you to the museum, and why did he have information about it in advance if he wasn't already planning to take you there?"

"I dunno, he's a spontaneous guy? He's familiar with the area, including the museum? There are other possibilities apart from what you guys are insinuating." When his coworkers stop talking and let him finish arranging the chairs, Minho thinks they've given up.

But after flipping the sign on the door, Felix asks, "One last question: what time did you go home, and what time did you start the KaTalk convo?"

"Technically, those are two questions," says Minho, "but I really need you to shut up ASAP." He pauses to bring the memory front and center in his head. "I was on the bus by three thirty, and then I sent him a thank you message at, um, maybe four fifteen?"

The very moment the last syllable leaves his mouth, Minho knows he's lost the debate. Felix gasps, happily scandalized, and Seungmin coughs to hide the fact that he's snickering. Sure that protesting will only add fuel to the fire, Minho sighs and doesn't say another word until the first customer enters the establishment not five minutes later. He glares at his friends to warn them against bringing up the topic, especially when Jisung arrives.

Felix purses his lips in an effort to stay neutral at the sight of Jisung appearing as sleep-deprived as his coworker.

"Heya," greets Minho, inwardly pleased that the other is in the same tired state as he is. "You want the usual today?"

"Hi, Minho-hyung," says Jisung with a groggy smile that Minho wants to kiss. "Did you sleep well?"

Minho doesn't know which one he should be affected by first: Jisung's giggly question that he's heard from hookups the morning after, or his coworkers making noise and not being subtle about eavesdropping. He stays calm and replies, "I could use more sleep, but in terms of quality, I was knocked out, which is a good thing. You?"

"Ditto, which is why I'd like four espresso shots instead of three," says Jisung. "I was also thinking of changing things up a bit. What's your favorite dessert here?"

"Uh…" Minho takes a quick look at the glass display case. "The Salted Dark Chocolate Tart. I could probably eat an entire thing of it in one sitting if diabetes were nonexistent."

"Alright. I'll have that in place of cheesecake."

"Is there a reason for this change of heart?" asks Minho, grinning as he writes down the order.

"Just… I wanna try something new," answers Jisung, looking a bit too happy for someone who's talking about pastries.

"Okay, if you say so. I'll come right back." Minho goes to the counter to show Felix his notepad.

"Chocolate tart?" asks the cashier, squinting at the handwritten text. "This order sounds like yours."

Minho responds with a pointed look that would convince a stranger to back off but only makes Felix chuckle quietly as he presses buttons on the screen.

"One iced Americano with more than half of the recommended daily limit for caffeine, so if this doesn't wake you, better see a doctor," states Minho as he places Jisung's orders on the table, "a slice of Salted Dark Chocolate Tart that's so good you'll wish for more taste buds, and a daisy that I found out is edible, but I don't suggest you eat this one 'coz I might get fired."

"I already knew that, actually," says Jisung, "but I haven't consumed any of the flowers you've given me. That'd be a waste. One day I'll show you what I do with them."

"I'd like that," returns Minho, smiling. "Well then, I should go. Enjoy."

"Thanks, hyung."

Jisung stays in the cafe for a little under two hours, switching between typing, highlighting pages on his book and placing sticky notes on them, and writing notes. With earphones on, he doesn't lose his concentration despite the number of people around him, and when he's thinking, he either sips on his beverage or looks out the window. Even though his smile and cheerful disposition are aspects that Minho is enamored by, the lack of expression on his face and serious demeanor are equally appealing.

As Minho is refilling sugar packets and ketchup bottles at the condiment table, Jisung sidles up to him with his belongings in his arms and says, "I'll be going to class now, hyung. You have dance lessons later, right, so I can't bother you?"

God, you can do anything to me. "Yeah, but if you're gonna send me messages, it's fine. I'll read them before I sleep."

"Cool. See ya tomorrow."

"See you. Be safe." Minho waits until Jisung has gone beyond the borders of the cafe windows before he returns to his task. He thinks about how being friends with possibly the one great love of his godforsaken life isn't so bad after all.

But then Changbin's annual Halloween bash happens.

🌼🌼🌼

"Ask Jisung to come."

Changbin's words over the phone form a rain cloud above Minho's head the following day.

Backing up a little, the night before, Changbin had sent Minho a message saying, 'call me when you get home.' Normally, in true menace fashion, Minho would either delay the phone call by one day or forgo it altogether to get a rise out of his friend. But because Jisung's cute messages have put him in a good mood, he acquiesces to the request as soon as he's locked his front door.

Changbin picks up with, "Minho-hyung?"

"The one and only," confirms Minho, putting his shoes away. "What do you want?" He figures that the effort he's putting into the call can balance out his rudeness.

"The Halloween party is this Sunday. You're coming with the others, right?"

"Yup. My costume's ready and everything." Minho picks up a purring Soonie and heads over to the couch. "Are you about to ask me what Seungmin's going as so you two can 'accidentally' match?"

"N-no, why would I do that?" asks Changbin, sounding flustered. "Anyway, ask Jisung to come."

Minho chokes and coughs on air. "Excuse me? I don't think I heard you correctly. Speak up."

"I said, ask Jisung to come to the party. He can even bring his friends along if he wants to. Oh, and the indoor pool's been renovated, so bring stuff for swimming."

"I will ask no such thing," says Minho adamantly. "We just hung out yesterday, so he might think I'm desperate to spend time with him."

"Well, aren't ya?" chuckles Changbin. When the other responds with brooding silence, he goes, "C'mon, hyung. All the cafe boys have met him, but I haven't, and you said he makes his own music, right? We'll totally get along, then! Also, we'll celebrate your birthday. Please, pretty please, with Jisung in lacy lingerie on top?"

As a decent, well-meaning friend to Jisung, Minho gives himself exactly two seconds to imagine what Changbin has described before lightly slapping his own cheek to snap himself out of it. "Still no," he says. "I don't like celebrating my birthday, and I can already predict that one of you will get really drunk and end up telling Jisung everything. I'm not gonna risk that."

"We won't, I swear," whines Changbin. "Besides, I'm not gonna serve hard liquor 'coz everyone has work and school the next day. All the beverages I ordered have five percent alcohol or less, and there'll be a lot of food. At the most, people are gonna be tipsy by the time we wrap up. Also, got it, no birthday things."

"Nope. Nuh-uh. I refuse. I decline. There's no way. Absolutely not. Under no cir—"

"Don't you wanna see Jisung in swimming trunks?"

Long-term relationships are advantageous because they pave the way for shortcuts that make life easier. For instance, Changbin knows that Minho hates cilantro, so whenever they order banh mi or pho online, Changbin leaves a note on the app regarding that without fail. Also, every time they eat samgyeopsal, Minho cooks half of the pork longer than he prefers because Changbin likes his meat well done.

But like everything else, long-term relationships have downsides. One of which is that both parties know each other's weaknesses and can use them against one another, such as Changbin using Jisung as bait to entice Minho, who has been deprived of physical intimacy for roughly a year and is therefore ill-equipped to say no to certain offers.

Minho hangs up and immediately sends 'fuck you' to Changbin on KakaoTalk. Changbin's reply is 'thank you hyung :) see you and jisung soon.'

At present, Minho is trying to formulate the most buddy-buddy way to invite Jisung to the Halloween celebration. While he'd love for him to be there, he doesn't want to impose on the other's congeniality and seem overbearing. More importantly, he's worried about putting Jisung in a room full of strangers, considering that he isn't that keen on socializing with unfamiliar faces.

"Just imagine that you're talking to me or Seungmin," advises Felix with an encouraging smile.

"He might scare Mr. Blanket away if he does that," says Seungmin.

"...Shoot, you're right."

"I'll have to rethink my friendship with Changbin after this," grumbles Minho. He can understand work-related pressure, but stress over a freaking party? Ridiculous.

It doesn't help that Jisung arrives at the coffee shop donning a leather jacket over a canary yellow hoodie, distressed slim jeans, and leather lace-up ankle boots. He's basically spewing fuel at the fire of Minho's desperation and want without being aware of it.

Minho takes a sharp intake of breath prior to approaching Jisung. "Heya. The usual, is it?"

"The usual coffee and the new usual dessert, chocolate tart," answers Jisung prettily (even though Minho would argue that everything he does is pretty). "Please and thank you, Minho-hyung."

"Gotcha, coming right up." Transferring a slice of tart onto a plate has never been more nerve-racking for Minho. He recognizes that his reaction is disproportionate to the situation, but he can't do anything about it. With his mind elsewhere, he even forgets to say the names of and describe Jisung's orders.

He's already pulling his hand back from the flower he's placed on the table when Jisung lightly holds his wrist. "Is everything okay?" he asks softly.

Minho feels his cheeks go warm. "I'm fine," he says, giving Jisung reason to let go of him. "But um…" It's now or never, he thinks. "I told you about my Halloween-obsessed friend Changbin, do you remember?" Jisung nods in affirmation. "So every year since senior high school, he's been throwing a Halloween costume party with his closest friends and his friends' friends. He asked me to ask you if you'd like to attend the one that'll be held on Sunday at six."

He should probably let Jisung say something first, but because he knows that his nerves will get to him again if he stops, he continues. "His parents are loaded, and they have a pool inside their house, so we'll be swimming as well. You can bring up to three companions; that's the limit per person, according to his mom and dad. There'll be alcohol, but not enough to knock anyone out—Changbin's respectful of everyone's responsibilities. But anyway, you can say no if a party's not up your alley. Changbin will understand, and there's no pressure for you to attend." He then braces himself for rejection.

What he gets, however, is a flash of pearly whites and an upbeat reply of, "Okay, that sounds like a lot of fun. I'll start looking for a costume."

Surprised by the turn of events, Minho asks, "Are you sure? You'll be fine with the…socializing and all that?"

"Well, you'll be there, and Channie-hyung and Jeongin will be, too, since they love parties, so it's fine." 

Minho breathes a sigh of relief at the other's statement. "Thank goodness. That was my number one concern, to be honest. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything."

Jisung shakes his head. "I go to parties, like, once every two months when I know I can be with some or even just one of my friends. I also can't turn down free food, you know."

"Who could?" snickers Minho, all the tension in his body gone. "Don't forget to bring your swimwear and a change of clothes. It's going to be at his family home in Hannam-dong. How do you plan on commuting? By taxi?"

"Hannam-dong?" asks Jisung, understandably in awe because of how affluent that neighborhood is. "Damn. Uh… Yeah, going by taxi seems to be the best choice here. We could also take the subway. If we have to walk to get there, we will. I'll make sure of it."

"Save your energy for swimming and dancing. I'll ask Changbin for his address and photos of his house in case you can't find it and forward them to you tonight."

"Cool. I'll let the boys know about the party right now," says Jisung as he pulls up his mobile.

"Okay, good. I'll leave you to it."

"Hyung?" goes Jisung before Minho can face the other way.

"Yes, Jisung-ah?"

"Thank you for inviting me," says Jisung, warmth radiating from his smile and gaze, "and for looking after me so well."

🌼🌼🌼

The second the music stops and his students freeze in their final positions, Minho starts clapping and says, "Tremendous job, everyone! Thank you for your hard work. I know it's a showcase and not a competition, but tomorrow, I want you to dance as if you'll never dance again, alright?"

His twelve students, six boys and six girls ranging from eighteen to twenty years old, howl and cheer and dance even more despite the exhaustion in their bodies. There are high fives and hugs all around, and the room swells with laughter and playful banter.

It's Friday night, and while others his age are either out drinking or relaxing at home, Minho is still at work making sure that his students are a hundred percent ready for their upcoming performance. Although each of them had been chosen for their outstanding skills, they require guidance, encouragement, and a seasoned eye to spot the tiniest of mistakes, and Minho is more than happy to provide them with all three. Dancing may be his true passion in life, but teaching is its own reward. The smiles on his students' faces and their steady improvement keep him going, and he wouldn't trade the amount of pride he gets from watching them transform into disciplined, creative dancers for anything in the world.

"Teach!" calls Yeonggi, the oldest among the boys. "Let's take a group photo!" The other students have formed a cluster in front of the mirror covering the entire length of one of the walls and are waiting for their teacher with expectant expressions.

Minho puts on a face to pretend he doesn't want to do it, but when he stands next to the group, he puts up his arms in a wide V shape and smiles as wide as he can until the first image is captured, and then he changes poses two more times, his enthusiasm and silliness in tune with his students'.

"Send those to me, please," says Minho to Danbi, the girl whose phone had been used for the photos, "so I can brag them online once all of you are famous."

"You're really not gonna change your phone name, Teach?" giggles Danbi as she AirDrops the photos to Minho the Meow Meow.

"Now why would I do that?" asks Minho, inspecting the pictures for cuteness (all of them pass with flying colors) prior to slipping his phone into the front pocket of his red pullover hoodie. "It's a perfectly good choice, and with so many Minhos in the country, it differentiates me from all of them."

"At least it makes more sense than 'Mr. Blanket Chuu,'" comments Jihye, Danbi's best friend. "You haven't explained that one to us, Teach."

And I never will. "When one of you can beat my fifty one-handed pushups in a row, then sure." All the students make a collective sound of protest, knowing that no one can win against their instructor when it comes to strength. "C'mon, everyone, time to go. Stay safe going home, okay?" He lets them beeline for the double doors while he goes around the room once to check for forgotten items or trash and double-check whether all the plugs have been pulled. When he confirms that nothing is amiss, he turns off the lights and exits the studio.

"G'night, Minho-ya," greets Dongsun, the security guard on night duty.

"'Night, hyungnim," returns Minho with a smile and a shallow bow as he passes by. "Say hi to the bathroom ghosts for me, yeah?"

"Get outta here with that nonsense, you punk," chortles the middle-aged man. "Ghosts my ass."

Minho leaves the six-story building chuckling to himself. It's not even past ten, so he sees a good number of people on the sidewalks and pedestrian lanes on his way to the bus stop. He heads straight to the very back of the bus he rides so he won't be disturbed by anyone.

Upon sitting down, he brings out his cellphone to check KakaoTalk. The 'NO DECAF ALLOWED' group chat with his three coworkers slash friends has two new floral drawings from Hyunjin, photos of Seungmin's dinner at a Japanese restaurant, and Felix's replies with more emojis than words. Minho isn't compelled to send anything, so he moves on to his favorite chat thread.

Jisung has sent three adorable yet slightly blurry photos of his puppy, Bbama, which is at his parents' house in Incheon, with the message, 'i had a video call with him a while ago and he was so hyper and cute i miss him a lot.' He has also shared a video of a pitiful-looking cat meowing for food and another of a reporter talking about droughts and their effects on the ecosystem but gets disturbed by a baby elephant that gropes his head as he talks.

Minho leaves emoji reactions on everything and then sends the photos of him and his students. He goes, 'finally done with practice! these are my own hyper kids.' Because Jisung had told him about having two exams on that day, he doesn't expect him to answer, assuming that he'd already fallen asleep.

He is proven wrong because not a minute goes by when Jisung responds.

jONEtoTEN: aww everyone looks so happy! you must be an a+++++ teacher ^o^

vitamin_ho: of course coz i'm good at everything

jONEtoTEN: ok i will take your word for it hyung lol

jONEtoTEN: what time's the showcase?

vitamin_ho: 6pm. why? are you gonna watch [me and] my students? kkk

jONEtoTEN: hahaha i can't but i'll cheer for [you and] your kids in spirit! (/^-^)/

vitamin_ho: wow so you'll have an out-of-body experience just for us? tysm d(^_^)b

The rest of the conversation is a recap of their day and comments about random topics. Although it's fun for both parties, something puzzles Minho.

The thing is, there are times when even his friends find it challenging to follow his train of thought when he goes off on extreme tangents. He doesn't take offense because he's aware that he discusses ideas as they come to him, with complete disregard for whatever he or the other person has just said.

Jisung, on the other hand, effortlessly keeps up with him, going from one subject matter to another in the blink of an eye. He doesn't question the Grand Canyon-wide disconnect between any two topics that Minho brings up. Instead, he dives right into it daredevil-style, no parachutes whatsoever, trusting that the other will catch him as he lands at full speed in the valley below.

Minho has never known anyone with such a sharp intuition for his mind made of knots and loops. It's as though Jisung has read a manual for him and is now a Lee Minho expert. It's as thrilling as it is daunting for somebody like him who prefers to remain an unsolvable puzzle for most.

He supposes he can make one exception named Jisung.

An hour later, Minho is already in bed with Soonie hanging out by his feet, and as he and Jisung have been doing for the past several days, one of them says they should go to sleep. It's Jisung who does it this time.

vitamin_ho: i was wondering how you're still chatting with me after the day you went through

vitamin_ho: sleep well you ball of energy you

jONEtoTEN: i'm not always like this haha it depends on who i'm talking to

jONEtoTEN: most people drain my social battery but not you

jONEtoTEN: you're a whole-ass charger +_+ lol

jONEtoTEN: anyway sleep well too minho-hyung ^^

vitamin_ho: *^^*

The next morning is a typical morning, though Minho can't call it that now since he and Jisung are on talking terms, which in his opinion is a miraculous turn of events. Months ago, he hadn't foreseen all of this happening, the top reason being that Jisung is a customer. Even if he'd been coming to the coffee shop six days a week, Minho hadn't had an excuse to talk to him beyond asking him what his orders were. There's no rule against it per se, but it's common professional conduct.

Despite that, they've gotten so far in so little time. Minho smiles at the thought…and forgets that the person he's grinning about is only a ruler's length away from him and watching him carefully.

"You're in a good mood," remarks Jisung, popping Minho's daydream bubble and making him self-conscious. "Is it 'coz of the showcase later?"

"Y-yeah," answers Minho, who switches to a neutral expression. He quickly forces his brain to come up with a believable alibi for spacing out with a smile on his face. "It's a pretty big deal 'coz recruiters from top dance companies will be there, so any of my students might become a star overnight." Dodged a bullet there. Focus, Minho!

Jisung's eyes widen at that. "Oh wow, yeah, that's definitely a big one. Wish them luck for me."

"Will do. Thank you, Jisung-ah."

Contrary to its name, Loners' Cafe fills with groups of people within the hour. Only two out of seven occupied tables, including Jisung's, have a single customer. Being the only waiter for the shift, Minho collects customers' orders two tables at a time for efficiency, and then he goes behind the counter to plate desserts while he waits for the pasta dishes, salads, and sandwiches. Felix helps out Seungmin by handling the non-coffee drinks that all staff members have been trained on.

"Last one," declares Seungmin, placing an espresso con panna on the tray containing two plates of spaghetti, a grilled cheese, a slice of mocha cake, and a Pineapple Cooler that Minho is holding. The latter brings it to Table 6, which is in front of Table 8.

"Enjoy," says Minho once he has set down all the food and beverages. He tells himself not to glance at a particular person nearby because why would he, it's unnecessary, and he might get caught, but his eyes betray his mental instruction and seek out Jisung as though they would blind themselves if they don't see him.

The treachery of his body parts, however, isn't what shakes Minho up; it's Jisung already looking at him and—for the love of all things gay and fluffy—giving him a wink followed by a heartwarming smile. His first instinct is to scowl just as he would with anybody, but Jisung is somebody, so Minho takes a different route: he winks back at him.

He then turns around to go back to the counter before he can see Jisung's reaction so he won't make things more unbearable for himself. Also, he thinks it's good payback for the man's distracting attack.

As customers finish their meals and head out of the coffee shop, Minho clears their tables in preparation for the next batch of people. This is what he's doing when a large, mint green paper bag is brought to him at eye level, and he doesn't have to check who's carrying it because there's only one person he knows who uses watermelon-scented perfume. "What's this for?" he asks.

"To put it in a cheesy way, for helping others reach their dreams," answers Jisung, whose face is hidden.

Minho pauses to consider the situation before taking the bag and checking what's inside. A soft gasp escapes between his lips when he sees what he's been given: a bouquet of sunflowers of varying sizes sitting among stalks of blue and white baby's breath. He's quick to throw Jisung a questioning look.

"I know you're not performing later, but I figured the teacher should be congratulated, too," explains Jisung. "And if you're wondering, the flowers will be fully open soon. The florist told me it's better to get them like that so they'll last longer in a vase."

"Thank you, Jisung-ah," says Minho, his voice softening out of shyness. "These are beautiful."

"Since you give me flowers all the time, I wanted to return the favor. Anyway, I gotta go, hyung. See you at the Halloween party, alright?"

Minho nods with a smile. "Be safe." Unable to work while holding the present, he decides to place it in his locker first. He silently mouths flowers to Felix and Seungmin as he walks by and contains his giddiness until he reaches the staff room, where he brings out the bouquet to admire it more closely. 

While the gesture tugs at his heartstrings and makes him feel warm all over, he can't help but send a question for Jisung out into the void.

Why are you making it impossible for me to think of you as a friend?

🌼🌼🌼

In their friend group, Changbin is only second to Felix when it comes to being a social butterfly. That's why even if his family's property is big enough for a spacious yard and a two-story house with six bedrooms, five bathrooms, a family room, an enclosed pool, a home theater, a library, a game room, and a basement, the hallways and common spaces soon become filled with people—whose names he has all memorized—during the first hour of the party.

"Hyung, this is the third year in a row," comments Changbin, dressed up as a giant bee holding a humongous red flower, when he comes to meet Minho, Felix, Hyunjin, and Seungmin at the foyer at six forty-five. "Do you not plan on retiring that costume?"

"Nonsense," says Minho and starts moving his head so that the giraffe head sitting on his scalp does, too. "As the tallest mammals on the planet, giraffes should be celebrated."

"At least it's a full-body costume," remarks Felix in an Elsa costume complete with a blonde wig. "Remember that year he just wore a spider headdress with a shirt and jeans?"

"Minimalism isn't a crime."

"Where's the food and alcohol?" asks Hyunjin, Spider-Man but without the mask because it makes his face sweaty. "I'm hungry and sober on Halloween. This is doubly tragic."

"Dining room and kitchen respectively," answers Changbin.

Hyunjin and Felix walk away together, so Minho has to choose between going with them or staying with Changbin and Seungmin, the adult version of Pororo. Alas, both are couples with unresolved tension, which means he'll be third wheeling and witnessing awkward moments either way. He opts for the two people who can make proper conversation for more than ten minutes. "Hey, wait for me," he calls out to the queen-and-superhero duo.

They join the people walking around the long table to choose among the generous spread of Halloween-themed finger food before them. The options include pizzas topped with ghost-shaped cheese and olive spiders, small jack-o'-lantern chicken pot pies, deviled eggs made to look like eyeballs, witch brooms made of frayed cheese slices and pretzel sticks, cheese balls with tortilla chip horns and olives for eyes, and hotdogs wrapped with dough to appear as mummies.

Changbin has proven yet again that no one loves the holiday more than he does.

After filling their paper plates, the trio go to the kitchen to grab low-alcohol canned cocktails and then proceed to the living room. They agree to stand side by side on the wall, watching people dance and mingle while they fuel up so they can have the energy to have fun as well.

Halfway through his plate, Hyunjin nudges Minho and goes, "Where's Jisung?"

"I dunno, but he said he'll be here," answers Minho, willing himself not to think negatively this early.

"Is he coming alone?" asks Felix after he moves in front of the other two so they form a small huddle.

A light bulb of mayhem goes off in Minho's head. "You'll see your crush, if that's what you're asking. FYI, his name is Chan." He stops himself from reacting to the way Hyunjin shifts uncomfortably beside him and stands straighter. "He's a year older than me, another FYI."

"He's ancient, then," mumbles Hyunjin without Felix hearing him.

Minho stuffs his mouth with a black cat-shaped cookie as a form of self-control. He'd selected the right potential couple to pester, and he couldn't be more pleased.

Minutes later, they've thrown away their used plates and are left nursing their drinks. When the DJ, Changbin's friend from college, switches to a song that the three of them like, they shimmy their way to the middle part of the crowd and dance with one another while making sure they don't accidentally shower people with their tequila seltzer (Hyunjin), vodka soda (Minho), and spiked lemonade (Felix).

"Hyung, can you show us how a giraffe shakes its ass?" challenges Felix, already cackling at the idea, as another good song comes on.

"Easy! Hold my drink," says Minho to Hyunjin, who complies right away. He creates more space around him by subtly bumping into several people while dancing until he's satisfied with the amount of floor he can work with.

Then, without hesitation, he drops to the ground so he's standing on his hands and feet, his knees bent to keep his back straight, and begins wiggling his behind with as much enthusiasm as he can muster. Felix and Hyunjin aren't the only ones who cheer and laugh—the strangers around them do, too.

But around thirty seconds into his performance, Minho hears Felix say, "Hyung!" in an urgent tone. Assuming that his friend is just feeling embarrassed for him (which is nothing new), he shamelessly carries on, putting renewed energy into his moves to better highlight his butt and thighs that have been sculpted through years of dance and the occasional workout.

"Minho-hyung, stop," warns Hyunjin, his eyes fixed on something behind Minho while everyone else is still enjoying the impromptu giraffe dance.

Comprehension hits Minho like a truck that's lost its brakes. He stands up and whirls around to find Changbin and Seungmin standing right in front of him.

Along with Jisung, Chan, and Jeongin.

"Let's go somewhere more quiet," invites Changbin, his usual way of speaking made more sinister by the amused smirk playing on his lips that Minho wants to slap away. He leads all of them to the hallway leading to the library so they're at the border of the party area and the rooms that are off-limits.

"We found them in the living room," explains Seungmin to Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix. "They stood out, as you can see." Jeongin is the Big Bad Wolf in grandma clothes, Chan is a human-sized caterpillar of some kind, and Jisung is a tiny person being abducted by an inflatable green alien.

"Those costumes are fantastic," comments Minho for the three newly arrived guests, and then he turns to Jisung. "Yours is quite fitting for some reason."

"Yours, too," returns Jisung while petting the giraffe head. "I never knew giraffes could be so…frisky." He then pokes the tip of Minho's nose, on which Hyunjin had painted a black upside-down triangle nose. "And cute."

Minho thanks the homosexual deities that his ears are hidden because if not, everyone would see them glowing red. "Thanks," he says, the word coming out in a shy whisper, and he clears his throat before continuing. "Okay, uh, newcomers, this is Changbin, Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Felix."

"Felix, yeah, hi," greets Jisung cheerily. "I've always wondered how 'Let It Go' would sound when sung by a bass." Minho doesn't want to dwell on the possible reasons for Jisung singling out Elsa.

Felix laughs and goes, "Remind me to give you a demo later."

"Nice. Oh, right," says Jisung, seemingly having forgotten about his companions. "Everyone, I'm Jisung, and these are my friends, Channie-hyung and Jeongin."

"Sorry, but what're you supposed to be?" asks Hyunjin to Chan.

"A tardigrade, also known as a water bear," answers Chan, whose only visible body part is the upper half of his face. "It's a harmless microscopic animal that can survive in extreme conditions—including outer space—and when it enters new environments, it serves as food for other organisms and therefore helps those places thrive with life and activity."

"We watched an entire documentary about it," says Jeongin flatly. "Hyung loves water bears."

"'Coz they look so friendly and cuddly."

"That's one way of looking at it," remarks Changbin. "Now that all of us are acquainted, Minho-hyung, can you show them where the food and drinks are? I'll have these guys help me set up some games."

"Alright," says Minho, taking his beverage from Hyunjin. "Follow me, Three Musketeers."

"You're a muskequeer," Minho hears Chan tease Jisung, who responds with, "Shush, hyung." The words give him deja vu.

"Wow, this is sick," says Jeongin when he sees what's on the dining table. Chan hands him and Jisung plates. "The Halloween parties I've been to only had, like, chips and candy and cheap beer."

"This is an annual event, so you can stop going to other parties," says Minho with a proud smile. "Y'all are automatically invited to next year's bash." He takes a step closer toward Jisung so his chest is touching the back of the inflatable alien and adds, "The deviled eggs are spicy, so steer clear of those."

"Appreciate the heads-up," returns Jisung. His eyes go to the lime vodka soda in Minho's hand. "Is that any good?"

What would I do if a friend, say, Changbin asked the same thing? asks Minho mentally. He lifts the can and replies with, "Taste it for yourself." Nope, that is the opposite of what I would do. Dammit.

Fortunately (or unfortunately) for him, Jisung accepts the offer, letting Minho tip the can forward as he drinks from it. Minho is hypnotized by the way Jisung's Adam's apple bobs in his throat when he takes two gulps of the beverage. "Yeah, okay, that's what I'm having, too. It might help improve my booty popping skills until they're at your level."

Minho raises an eyebrow and smirks. "So how long were you staring at my ass, Jisung-ah?"

Out of all the possible reactions, "Wouldn't you like to know," is the one that Minho least expects, so when Jisung chooses violence and goes for that answer, Minho fails to think of a comeback. To make up for it, he jabs a finger into the other's side to tickle him.

"Jeongin and I will be over there by the beer pong," informs Chan after they get drinks. "Do you two wanna come with or…?"

"You go ahead," replies Jisung. "I wanna eat these well-manicured zombie fingers in peace." He checks Minho's face for signs of being opposed to the idea, and when he doesn't find any, he looks for an area occupied by fewer people, Minho trailing behind him. They end up sitting on either end of the third bottommost step of the staircase at the foyer.

"How hard was it to find that alien?" is Minho's first question.

"Not as hard as you'd think," replies Jisung, biting into a small wrap that's been decorated as Frankenstein's monster's head. "I ordered it on Coupang and got it in two days, but I still had to run to the convenience store to buy batteries for the built-in fan. What about you, hyung? This is honestly the first time I've seen a giraffe costume."

"I've been using this thing for three years, which Changbin doesn't approve of, obviously. I plan on keeping it until it gets damaged beyond repair. I don't wanna throw away fifty thousand won, you know."

"Fair enough. I bought mine for thirty-five K. It's worth it, I think."

"It is." Minho reaches over to touch the fake shoes and legs of the costume. "Hey, thanks again for coming. I know we saw each other yesterday, but it's nice seeing you today as well." Meeting Jisung's eyes with his own, he asks, "Am I too clingy?"

Jisung shakes his head. "I like clingy," he adds, gentleness softening the edges of his gaze and tone.

For a moment, Minho stops breathing.

They move on to a discussion about their childhood Halloween experiences. Jisung's paint him as a sheepish kid who gained confidence whenever he didn't have to be himself, while Minho's reveal him to be a child who was often the odd one out yet paid no attention to others' opinions of him. They find common ground in their lack of interest in people's business and habit of getting lost in their own world. 

As the conversation continues, it creates a thick bubble around them that prevents them from noticing the sexy ghouls, talking animals, living inanimate objects, and fictional characters in the vicinity. Neither senses the passage of time, though they discover that they've been talking for a while when Changbin approaches them and asks Minho why he hasn't been answering messages for the past hour.

"I put it on silent," explains Minho. "Sorry."

"The pool's been heated, so we can use it now," says Changbin. "You can go to the common bathroom on the second floor to change if you don't want to wait in line. I'll see you there, alright?"

Prior to heading upstairs, Minho and Jisung retrieve their bags from the spacious coat closet by the front door. They giggle in triumph about not having any competition, but they soon face the dilemma of who should go first since they both insist that it'd be better for the other to do so.

"Let's just get in there together," proposes Jisung. "We can turn our backs while changing, can't we?"

Minho, who's been thinking of the same thing but had not expressed it out of his need to keep their interactions in the general patronage range, agrees with minimal reluctance. He stands by the sink, while Jisung goes in front of the shower.

He's about to remove his headgear when the alien abductee in the room goes, "Minho-hyung, could you unzip me for a sec?"

No need to get excited, Minho tells himself, 'coz like you, he's wearing clothes under there, though the probability of the alternative circumstance lingers in his mind as his right thumb and forefinger touch the head of the zipper. He tugs it halfway down in one swift motion, and just as he'd rightly suspected, Jisung has a hooded pullover and straight cut jeans on.

"Thanks," says Jisung, stepping out of the costume. "Do you need some help?"

"No, this doesn't have a zipper or anything, see?" Minho shows his back to the other to prove his point.

Jisung responds with a hum, turns around, and reaches back to pull off his top by the nape area.

Purely by accident, Minho looks into the mirror at that same instant and gets a drool-inducing view of Jisung's back, from his teeny-tiny waist to the broad area where his shoulder blades are, the lean muscles there creating curves and dips and lines that Minho wants more than anything to explore with his teeth and tongue and hands. He would've kept on staring had the logical part of his brain been less alert, screaming at him to start stripping before Jisung catches him in the act.

All three pieces of the giraffe outfit are easy to take off, and the same goes for Minho's long-sleeved shirt and skinny jeans. He hesitates to remove his boxers, however, feeling extremely conscious of Jisung's presence and having the need to check the mirror, but he wills everything down and changes into his indigo swimming trunks in seconds. He also puts on a white tee since he's uncomfortable with showing his body to strangers. "I'm done," he declares. "You?"

"Yup," answers Jisung, prompting them both to face one another.

Warmth fills every vein in Minho's body at the sight of Jisung's sleeveless top and bare muscular arms. Here he is, without much clothing and alone in a small, locked room with a beautiful man he'd allow to do the most wretched things to him, yet he has zero right and reason to act on his feelings and close the distance between them.

The world is cruel to those who yearn unperceived.

"Shall we go?" asks Jisung, unaffected by the situation, after they've stuffed their costumes, clothes, and shoes into their bags. Minho nods, using silence as a blanket to cover his desire.

The pool, which is twenty-five feet wide and forty-five feet long, is sitting in the middle of the room and bordered with dark gray porcelain tiles. Above it are ebony stained wooden beams running the width of the ceiling. It's flanked along its length on the left and the right by brown synthetic rattan lounge chairs separated by small cylindrical tables of the same material. The remaining two sides, meanwhile, are furnished with cushioned couches and armchairs.

"Over here!" calls out Felix, who's already in the pool with Chan, Jeongin, and Hyunjin. He and Jeongin have long-sleeved rash guards on, and Chan and Hyunjin are wearing sleeveless shirts similar to Jisung's. "Hyung, I saved you one," he says, referring to the floaty with a pink donut design that he's pulling along.

"I don't know how to swim," confesses Minho, hoping that he doesn't come off as pathetic.

Jisung smiles at him and says, "That's okay. My parents only enrolled me in swimming classes so the beaches in Malaysia wouldn't be wasted on me. Nowadays, I don't even get to use that skill often—the last time I swam here in Korea was…two years ago, I think?" Taking Minho by the wrist, he requests Felix to meet them at the shallow end of the pool and starts walking toward that area. Minho hopes that Jisung doesn't feel how fast his pulse has become.

The water is nice and warm when Minho steps into it. He pulls the inner tube up to his armpits before going down the steps. Once his feet have landed on the bottom of the pool, he's relieved to find that the water is at waist level.

"How deep is this pool?" Jisung asks as the three of them walk to where their friends are.

"Eight feet," replies Felix. "Minho-hyung has gone snorkeling with us a couple of times while wearing a safety vest. You don't have to worry too much about him." He then throws a wingman-mode-on look at Minho, who gives him a stop-that-right-now-or-else glare.

"I'll keep an eye on him nonetheless," remarks Jisung. "I know CPR, so…"

"Is that right?" asks Felix in a playful manner. "Better not leave him for a second in case someone pops his floaty out of nowhere." He quickens his pace to avoid getting kicked in the shin underwater by a certain donut man.

Minutes later, Seungmin and Changbin join them, both in short-sleeved rash guards. Since the pool isn't overly crowded, they have the freedom to be as rowdy as they want. For the eight men, this means splashing water at each other's faces, attempting to dunk someone in the water, and finding out who can swim fastest or hold their breath longest. Other friends of Changbin join the chaos not long after.

"Oh god, my legs have turned into jelly," laughs Jisung, leaning back on the pool wall. "I've forgotten how difficult water exercises are. How are you not winded, hyung?"

"Dancing helped with my endurance, I suppose," says Minho with a shrug. "What d'you say we take a break?"

"Let's play Drink If," suggests Changbin. "That'll give us enough time to catch our breath."

The other seven men agree and get out of the pool. Since Jisung reaches the wet deck area first, he stands at one spot and waits for Minho, who suddenly loses the urge to slip out of the inner tube that's now around his hips. It's because although Jisung's smile is innocent, his very wet, very translucent shirt is far from it, clinging to him like a second skin and molding against his sharp collarbones, his chiseled chest, and the outline of his six-pack abs. The images being conjured in his head require an NC-17 rating.

"You're gawking," whispers Seungmin as he walks past.

That snaps Minho out of his fantasies, allowing him to approach Jisung so they can follow the rest of their group. His agony doesn't end there, however, because Jisung's wet swimming shorts show off the surprising plumpness of the man's ass. Minho wonders if he hadn't noticed drowning in the pool and is now in the second circle of hell, where his punishment is for Jisung to be in his most delicious yet most unattainable form for all of eternity.

Changbin tells them to gather around two lounge chairs while he and Seungmin fetch the drinks.

"Are they together?" asks Jisung loud enough for the whole group to hear.

The three cafe employees snicker at that, and then Hyunjin answers, "Changbin-hyung has confessed to Seungmin, but Seungmin hasn't given him the green light for, um, anything. Still, it's obvious that it's not an unrequited romance. Seungmin's just having too much fun with the way things currently are."

"Changbin-hyung must be an extremely patient person."

"He is," says Felix, "and he thinks Seungmin's stubbornness is adorable."

"Sounds like a match made in heaven," comments Chan.

Minho silently agrees, thinking back on the first time he'd seen them holding hands. Their four-member group had gone to Everland for a quick weekend outing. As they were walking from the bumper cars to the horror house, Seungmin casually slipped his hand into Changbin's, and the other's only reaction was to fold his fingers tighter to envelop Seungmin's hand. Changbin's confession came two months after.

"Pick your poison," says Changbin, placing on the floor a medium-sized cooler filled with different canned beverages. Seungmin has a large bowl of purple corn chips and a smaller bowl of guacamole topped with a sour cream spider web.

After everyone has chosen and opened their drink, Hyunjin volunteers to start. "Okay, because I know we're all thirsty, drink if you have exactly one dick and a pair of balls." That gets a laugh out of everyone and gives them an opportunity to enjoy their beverage.

"My turn," says Felix, who's sitting on the lounge chair beside Hyunjin. "Drink if you've dyed your hair an unnatural color, like green or blue." Minho, Hyunjin, and Chan are the only drinkers this time, having had purple, pink, and bright red hair respectively.

Seated cross-legged on the floor, Jeongin takes a moment to think prior to saying, "Drink if you or your family has a pet of any kind." He, Changbin, Seungmin, and Felix are spared from the alcohol.

"I don't wanna be the person who gets a perfect score in this game," chuckles Chan, "so drink if you were born in the year 2000 or later." He receives celebratory high fives from Minho and Changbin while the ones younger than them take a swig of their beverages. "Minho-ya, maybe you can do a follow-up exclusively for the kiddos?"

"Gladly," is Minho's response. He glances at Jisung first to smirk at him and then says, "Drink if your birth month in English has the letter M in it."

"Oh, c'mon!" whines Jisung, who has no choice but to drink along with Felix, Hyunjin, and Seungmin. "Alright, if that's how you wanna play the game, drink if you're wearing an animal costume." His fellow 2000 babies cheer while the three oldest men have another gulp of their alcoholic refreshments.

"Ya, hyung, why am I included?!" complains Jeongin.

"Sorry, Innie, but sacrifices have to be made for the greater good sometimes."

"Getting even is immature," comments Seungmin, standing next to the lounge chair where Minho and Jisung are sitting. "Drink if you were born in the '90s." When he cackles out loud, he hits Changbin on the upper arm at the same time, unable to contain his mirth. The other four who don't have to drink are wheezing as well.

"Okay, okay, you've had your fun," says Changbin as soon as everyone has calmed down. "No more age discrimination. Drink if you wanna bone someone in this group, and no, you don't have to say who it is."

The statement brings about a good number of blushing cheeks and, in Minho's case, blushing ears. The result is surprising: Jeongin is the lone person who doesn't drink. Understandably, all of Minho's friends are shocked by Jisung and Chan, and Minho had not expected the latter, either. Jisung, on the other hand, appears puzzled by Minho, but because explanations are out of the question, he looks away and keeps his questions to himself.

"What can I say, there are very hot men in this circle," says Chan, shrugging.

"Jisungie-hyung and I will interrogate you later," Jeongin tells him.

"Are you guys up for another round or nah?" asks Changbin.

With an affirmative unanimous vote, eight more drink-if statements are made, which unveil more intimate details about the participants. A notable one is that fifty percent of them—namely Jisung, Seungmin, Changbin, and Jeongin—have no sexual experience. Then, only Minho and Chan have had one-night stands, and those who've been in a relationship for more than a year are Felix and Hyunjin.

At the end of the round, the group changes back into their costumes and breaks up into couples: Felix and Jeongin go to the game room for the Mario Brothers tournament, Hyunjin and Chan are reeled into the volleyball game at the brightly lit yard, and, to no one's surprise, Seungmin and Changbin disappear to some unknown place (the popular consensus is they've gone to make out in Changbin's bedroom).

That leaves Jisung and Minho to decide where they should stay.

"I have an idea," says Minho in a soft voice, "but we have to be extra-sneaky about it so Changbin doesn't catch us." He takes Jisung down to the basement, where the family room is, and then he pushes open the door to the home theater. It's complete with carpeted multilevel flooring, soundproof walls, three rows of four recliner chairs, wall lights, surround speakers, a smart projector mounted on the ceiling, a retractable projector screen, and a mini concession stand.

"Are you sure this is allowed?" asks Jisung, sounding nervous even as he takes a seat in the middle row. The chair is roomy enough to contain his dinosaur suit.

"Yeah, we hang out here a lot," assures Minho, fiddling with the iPad to connect to Netflix and grabbing the remote for the projector. "Changbin's family doesn't want too many people in here, though, so whenever they hold parties, guests are told to stay away from the basement." He plops down next to his companion and begins pressing buttons. "Is there a movie you've been wanting to see but haven't yet?"

"Because it's Halloween, a horror film is in order," replies Jisung. "How about The Cabin in the Woods?"

"Alrighty. Oh, wait, you can get some snacks over there. We'll have to clean the popcorn machine if we're gonna use it, so that's a no-go." Minho quickly searches for the title while the other gathers munchies for them to share. After Jisung returns with a medium bag of Cheetos, two cans of Mountain Dew, and two small packs of chocolate pretzels, Minho goes to the switches by the door to cut the lights.

"This is pretty different, huh?" comments Jisung nineteen minutes into the movie. "I still don't understand what the scientists have to do with the students, though."

"Could be that the whole thing's fake," guesses Minho, half of his mouth filled with Cheetos, "but the students don't know it."

"Why would it be fake is the question."

When the first killing occurs and another hidden aspect of the story is unveiled, neither man is grossed out, which Minho thinks is great considering that his close friends squirm at the sight of fake blood. It's not often that he meets someone else who knows how to appreciate the art of special effects.

At fifty-six minutes, they get hyped up as the plot steadily becomes clearer. Soon, they're laughing in amazement at the action-packed, blood-soaked climax and clapping at the satisfying conclusion.

"Gotta love multilayered stories," remarks Jisung during the credits, stretching his arms above his head.

"Yep." Minho checks the time on his phone: ten fifty-seven. "Hey, how about going back upstairs? The guys might be looking to head home in a while."

"Whoops, yeah, it's getting pretty late." Jisung takes it upon himself to collect and throw away the trash, and Minho turns off all the electronics. They hear music still blasting through the house when they step out of the basement and into the hallway.

But before Minho can start walking, Jisung blocks him, the intention behind his grin unreadable, and lifts his right upturned palm. "Would the bootylicious giraffe care to dance with a poor victim of an alien abduction?"

Minho's heart does a few somersaults. "Yes, he would," he says, placing his hand on Jisung's and letting himself be led to the living room.

They choose a spot in the corner with fewer people, and there they dish out their silly, funky moves, their eyes and smiles pointed only at each other. When they coincidentally end up doing the same dance, they burst into laughter, drawing a bit of attention onto themselves, but that doesn't break their focus on one another. They keep this up for three songs until Minho notices Felix waving at them from the foyer with their friends behind him.

"We can all take the subway together," Hyunjin tells Minho and Jisung once they're close enough to hear him. "Seungmin will stay behind for…reasons."

"I'll help clean up," says Seungmin. Judging by the similar expressions on the other men's faces, it's obvious that none of them believes him. His friends know that he's bullshitting them especially because they're aware that the Seo family employs house maintenance staff, including cleaners.

There's a short walk from Changbin's house to the closest subway station Hangangjin. The roads are empty due to the hour, so Felix and Hyunjin make the most of their freedom to walk on anywhere but the sidewalk. They're watched by Jeongin and Chan, who mostly walk in silence.

Jisung and Minho are several steps behind the four, their shoulders gently bumping. The cold October night is making Minho wish he'd brought another layer—even a measly cardigan would do—given that winter is around the corner, but he'd been in too much of a hurry preparing for the party to be his usual careful, future-thinking self. Now, he has to deal with the consequences. Lesson learned.

"Here," goes Jisung's voice that disturbs Minho's thoughts. It's followed by something soft landing on Minho's shoulders and back: a white bomber jacket printed with black-and-white comic strips and the words 'BOOM!' and 'POW!' scattered across it in block orange lettering. "I thought I was gonna need it, but this costume is pretty warm. Must be the air inside or whatever."

The chill in his body prevents Minho from thinking of an excuse not to wear the clothing. He slips his arms into the sleeves, pulls the zipper all the way up, and feels instantly loads better. "Thank you," he says, almost whispering. "I'm an endangered species, so my handful of relatives are quite grateful."

"Glad to do my part in the conservation of giraffes," says Jisung before catching Minho's gaze. "I'd be devastated if the Giraffa minhopardalis, in particular, were wiped out. Beautiful creature."

Minho doesn't bask in the compliment in case it gives him delusional ideas about him and Jisung. "Don't worry. You're doing a fine job of protecting him. Again."

"Pretty sure he doesn't need protecting, but he hasn't stopped me, unless…he wants to?"

Shaking his head, Minho says, "Since I have a lot of friends who are younger than me, it's nice being taken care of for once."

"Hmm. That's very good to know."

Naturally, the costumed group has people's heads turning at the subway station and in the car. They giggle at how comfortable Jisung seems to be sitting on the lap of his otherworldly kidnapper.

"I get off at the next stop," informs Jisung after the doors close for the fourth time.

"Me, too," says Felix from the other side of the aisle. His seatmate at the right frowns at his deep voice in relation to his outfit. "Will you be changing trains?"

"Yeah, Line 1 then 4. I live in Jongno-gu."

"I take the same route! I'm in Seongbuk-gu."

"Nice. I don't have to get bored over those two stops."

Minho nearly rolls his eyes, but he detects his childishness and looks away to calm himself. It'll be a quick trip for the two, meaning Jisung won't have time to flirt with his crush if that's what he's planning. He could ask for Felix's number, though…

"Minho-hyung," says Jisung, already standing up, "hit me up on KaTalk when you get home, okay?"

"Sure. You, too," returns Minho and watches him and Felix wave goodbye to everyone prior to alighting the subway.

Hyunjin takes the empty spot beside Minho to keep him company, with Jeongin and Chan sitting across from them. He lowers the volume of his voice and minimizes the movement of his lips when he asks, "Did you make a move on Mr. Blanket yet? You were with him all night."

"Nothing that two friends wouldn't do," answers Minho.

"Friends. Right. You know, Lix and I were discussing, and we think he likes you back."

Minho responds with a raised eyebrow. "What kind of BS is that?"

"The kind that's not BS," says Hyunjin. "He admitted wanting to get into someone's pants in our group. Who else could that be but you?"

"Might be Seungmin. Falling for a barista is a popular trope, isn't it?"

"Trope where? Ugh, never mind. Why're you being weird about this all of a sudden? Where's Mr. Blanket's self-proclaimed spouse and soulmate?"

Knowing that nothing good will come out of telling Hyunjin the real reason behind his actions, Minho shrugs and replies with, "I only want his friendship now. He's too nice and fun to be with to risk losing him to a breakup. My two exes were also my friends, remember? What are they now? Strangers."

"That's a hella dumb excuse," comments Hyunjin, sounding irritated. "The Lee Minho I know wouldn't let something like that daunt him." They sit wordlessly until the train slows down at Bomun station. "I suggest you pull your shit together, hyung," he remarks before saying farewell to their two companions, who move to Minho's side as well.

"The Prince is as stunning as you said he was."

"He's pretty much the entire package."

I've already pulled my shit together, Hyunjin-ah, muses Minho. That's why I've accepted that I'm no match for Lee Felix.

🌼🌼🌼

It's probably not the best idea in the world, and Changbin would likely be opposed to it, so Minho keeps his plan top secret.

After witnessing Jisung's unsuccessful dating streak, he decides that he should support him in his current romantic pursuit. What are friends for, right? Though Hyunjin is eyeing the same person, he doesn't need to score more points with him. This means that by helping Jisung, Minho is leveling the playing field, not giving him an advantage, which could be taken as a form of betrayal. He may be a rascal, but he wouldn't do that sort of thing to people he cares about.

Part of the plan is to subtly feed Jisung crucial information that would enable him to effortlessly engage Felix in conversation. The more they talk, the higher the chance that Jisung's feelings would be reciprocated; after all, one's personality is a big factor in the process of attraction.

"In the Drink If game," says Minho on Monday after serving Jisung his food, "I mentioned those whose English birth months have an M in them, right?"

"Yeah, that was a surprise, you sneak," comments Jisung with an amused grin.

"Hyunjin was born in March, and Seungmin was born in September."

A September baby, Jisung becomes interested. "Really? I rarely meet other people born in the same month as me. We should celebrate together next year."

"You'll have to do it as a trio, then, 'coz Felix's birthday is on September fifteen."

Jisung gasps. "No. Way. My birthday is on the fourteenth!" He takes a quick look at Felix, who's chatting with a customer. "What a small world we're living in, though it makes sense 'coz people born in September are cutie pies, wouldn't you agree?" To emphasize his words, he puffs up his cheeks a bit and cups them with both hands to do the flower pose.

You better stop that or else I will eat your face, Han Jisung. "No comment."

"Tch. Wait, when's your birthday, hyung? You haven't told me."

"Hm? October twenty-five."

Jisung's mouth goes slack and his eyebrows jump up. "Are you serious? That was…" He checks the calendar on his phone. "Last Tuesday? And you didn't say anything?!"

"My birthday's nothing special," remarks Minho. "Besides, why would I be happy about being a year closer to the grave? That's kinda morbid, don't you think?"

"There's a reason it's called 'birthday' and not 'pending-death day.'"

Realizing that the convo is going in a different direction, Minho goes, "Whatever. It's done now. Anyway, yeah, it's an amazing coincidence that you and Felix were—"

"No, not done, not to me," counters Jisung. His body language comes off as frustrated, and Minho doesn't grasp the logic behind it. "We spent so much time together yesterday, and we even watched a movie with just the two of us for, like, an hour and a half. I could've…"

Minho waits for the continuation of the sentence, but it doesn't come unbidden. "You could've what?"

The expression on Jisung's face indicates that he's either having an internal debate or still figuring out what to say. "I could've…given you a gift then. I had plenty of time to go shopping."

"Don't sweat it. I discourage gifts even on Christmas 'coz my apartment's small and prone to clutter."

Jisung easily resembles a sad puppy when he pouts. "Okay. I understand."

The topic of birthdays is dropped altogether in the next few days, allowing Minho to share other facts about Felix (and his three other friends for the sake of not being too obvious). However, he has to stay on his toes because Jisung has a tendency to steer the discussion toward Minho, inquiring about details such as his stance on the appeal of mint chocolate (they both like it) and his favorite thing to cook (kimchi fried rice with egg if time is an issue and beef wellington if he has all the time in the world). Not that he minds talking about himself, especially since Jisung also reveals some personal stuff, but Jisung is inadvertently foiling Minho's plan.

On Friday morning, as he's dressing up for work, Minho hears a KakaoTalk message come in.

jONEtoTEN: hyung i can't go to the cafe today so don't miss me too much ^o^

vitamin_ho: you're the one who contacted me first so who's actually missing whom? kkkk

jONEtoTEN: you replied within 15 seconds tho hahaha

vitamin_ho: i didn't want you to start crying like you always do when i reply late :( poor hammie

jONEtoTEN: you called me a quokka once but now i'm a hamster??

vitamin_ho: you're a squirrel and a chipmunk too

vitamin_ho: and a gopher, can't forget that

jONEtoTEN: okay i get it mr. national geographic -_-

jONEtoTEN: ok i'm running late bye! (^-^)/

vitamin_ho: byeee~ \(^-^)

The quick interaction is enough to set Minho in a good mood throughout the day. A customer knocks a half-eaten plate of carbonara off the table by accident, creating a mess of saucy noodles and pieces of broken dinnerware, yet Minho is happy to clean it up. The heavy traffic from the coffee shop to the studio doesn't get on his nerves, either. What's more, his patience in his dance classes doubles, so he's able to calmly handle a student who's become quick-tempered due to exhaustion.

It scares him how one person can have a significant effect on him.

"Have a good night, hyungnim," says Minho while walking to the front doors.

"You, too, Minho-ya," returns Dongsun. "No ghost warning this time?"

"Nah." Minho pushes the door a quarter of the way before adding, "But you might wanna check the batteries in your torch in case the lights start blinking." Dongsun's loud request for him to shut his pie hole serves as the background music of his exit.

Thanks to the Weather app, Minho isn't bothered by the cold in his white fleece jacket buttoned all the way up to the stand collar. He thinks about what he can make for dinner as he heads for the bus stop. His only requirement is for it to be hot in temperature and taste.

"Minho-hyung."

"Holy hippos!" blurts Minho, flinching away from the voice, which has turned into laughter.

"That has to be the best natural reaction I've heard from anyone," says a man whose masked face is hidden by the hood of the white jacket underneath his thinner navy blue polyester jacket. "I like hippos, so that's a plus."

Minho squints at the figure. "Jisung-ah? Is that you?"

"Oopsies, sorry." Jisung pulls away the obstructions to his smiling face. "I don't have my alien costume to keep me warm."

"Don't do that again. I could've had a heart attack!"

"Like I've said, I'm trained in CPR."

"Asshole. What're you doing here at this hour?"

"I came to give you this." Jisung shows the hand that he's positioned behind his back, and Minho sees that he's holding a rectangular object wrapped with colorful paper. "Happy birthday, hyung, however belated it may be."

Minho tries extremely hard not to smile in order to prevent contradicting his next statement. "Did you not hear a word I said about being against gift-giving?"

"I did, so I got you presents that are useful and won't end up as clutter."

"Presents? Plural?" Minho sighs, more to slow down his heart rate than to express his dislike of the situation. "What's the return policy on those?"

"Be kind to me, hyung, please," says Jisung, coming closer with a few steps. "I swear this is the first and last time."

"Excuse me, but I'm always kind to you," scoffs Minho.

"Yeah, and that's why you deserve all the gifts in the world."

This smooth talker just won't leave me be. "Fine, but let's get you warmed up first. I'm not gonna be responsible for you getting sick 'coz you waited for me out here."

A smirk appears on Jisung's face. "Ooh, yes, I like the sound of that, 'warming up.' What'd you have in mind, exactly?"

The tented snack stall they go to is only one of five lined up on a back street nearby. When they get there, three corporate workers are already having their fill. Minho and Jisung sit at the other end of the long counter and order tteokbokki, odeng, and kimbap in varying quantities.

"This is the best weather for spicy food," comments Jisung with a mouthful of tteokbokki.

"A true hammie," says Minho, poking Jisung's bulging left cheek.

"Okay, enough chitchat." Jisung places his present on Minho's lap. "Happy, happy, happy birthday."

Now that he's looking at it up close, Minho notices that the light pink wrapper has a pattern of chubby cat faces, flowers, rainbows, tiny hearts, and small stars. He's careful not to tear the paper while he's pulling at the taped seams. Inside, there's a cardboard box containing three items. The first one that Minho brings out is a solar power bank.

"I know camping's about appreciating nature and stuff," starts Jisung, "but you might feel like watching videos or movies on your phone or tablet at some point, and it's good to keep your devices charged should you need to call for help or look up information."

The second gift is a fourteen-in-one survival kit. "The dude at the shop recommended that," explains Jisung as Minho checks each object included in the set. "It has a fire starter, a wire saw, uh…an emergency blanket, really all the basics for short- or long-term camping. And since it's compact, it won't be irksome to bring the case with you."

Minho nods and hums. His smile grows at the last item in the box: a cookbook.

"Alright, hear me out," says Jisung before the other can comment. "I'm pretty sure cooking a multicourse meal out in nature isn't easy or practical. Still, you don't have to consume ready-to-eat food all the time while you're on an adventure—you can make something from scratch if you want. The equipment you'll need for each recipe is listed there, so it's a super convenient guide."

It's been a while since Minho had last received a present from a friend, which is why he stays silent for a minute, unsure of what to say. But given that simplicity never fails, he looks at Jisung and goes, "Thank you, Jisung-ah. I'll make sure to use these the next time I go camping and return home in one piece."

"Good because I'll be useless at the search party if you get lost. I'm so bad at navigating that I might get lost in the forest, too, and they'll find you before they find me."

"I doubt you're that terrible at it," remarks Minho. He puts the gifts back inside the box and rewraps the whole thing. "You're not keen on camping, right?"

"Yeah. I mean I love Mother Nature—my YouTube history is mostly nature documentaries—but I don't wanna be in nature, you know? The wild animals and lack of a flushing toilet are scary to me. I'm unhealthily dependent on modernity."

"How about glamping?" asks Minho, popping a bite-sized kimbap into his mouth. "Would you consider that?"

"Um, I guess, but it's expensive, isn't it?"

"You pay to have the downsides of camping removed."

"That's defeating the purpose of the activity. I'd rather stay home and build a blanket fort."

"Oh my god, yes, that's much better than glamping. I didn't think of that."

They finish their light dinner slash near-midnight snack while making small talk, enjoying the comfortable moments of silence in between. They're sitting so close that their knees are touching and their arms are practically glued together, but neither makes a move to create distance.

After they've split and paid the bill, Jisung offers to walk Minho to his bus stop because it's a stone's throw away. On the way, it dawns on Minho that he hadn't been able to mention Felix for the past half hour. He'd been consistent during the previous days, so he can't ruin his progress now. With that in mind, he asks, "Are you free tomorrow evening?"

"Yup, I think so," answers Jisung. "Why?"

"I've already told you that my other hobby is cooking. I recently found some recipes that I like, and whenever I make something new, I invite a friend over to be the taste tester. Would you li—"

"Yes."

Minho giggles at the light-speed response. "Great. Does six sound good?"

"It does, like, Dolby Atmos-level good."

"...I hate that I get the reference for that awful joke." In the distance, Minho recognizes the bus approaching. "I'll send you my address and the landmarks later. Also… Thanks again for the birthday gifts. I have to go on leave for more than one day so I can try all three ASAP."

"You go do that. You've a hard worker, so you've more than earned that vacation."

"What would you do without me at the cafe, though?" teases Minho just as the bus pulls up to the curb.

"I'll be there," says Jisung, the bus door sliding open with a swoosh, "waiting to welcome you back."

🌼🌼🌼

Even if Minho had not lied about having recipes he wants to try and already has the ingredients in stock so he can skip going to the shop, he still rushes home after work the following day to prepare himself and his apartment for Jisung's visit.

While his place isn't messy, like any busy person living on their own, there are areas he doesn't dust and wipe as often as recommended. Apart from that, he has to be careful about objects that can be seen in plain sight. With no walls separating the different parts of Minho's home, Jisung could wander about and end up coming face-to-face with a stray pair of boxers or, worse, the only bottle of lube in the apartment.

After cleaning and organizing whatever he can clean and organize, Minho moves on to cooking. After preheating the oven, he starts with the sausage manicotti because it'll take fifteen minutes to prep but sixty-five minutes to bake, as indicated in the directions. He's shocked at how quick and easy it is to assemble and put everything in the baking dish. This might just be his next favorite thing to bring to potlucks.

The next dish is spinach-pesto spiral chicken. Preparing it is a breeze as well, especially since Minho has cut down the number of servings from twelve to four, in case he or Jisung wants seconds. He smiles at the aroma of fresh pesto as he blends the ingredients in a mini food processor. The chicken also goes in a greased baking dish and into the same oven.

Last but not the least are bacon-wrapped scallops. All he does is panfry them, but to make sure they stay warm, he places them in a container and wraps that with aluminum foil and a clean dish towel.

While waiting for the first two dishes to cook, Minho tidies up the kitchen. Though he has a dessert planned as well, he thinks it'll be fun to make it with Jisung, so he looks for the ingredients that don't have to be in the fridge and places them neatly on the counter for convenience later on.

Minho checks on the manicotti and the chicken with a thermometer. Since the latter isn't ready yet, he pulls out the pasta dish, tops it with mozzarella cheese, and then places it back in the oven.

By four thirty-seven, all the necessary chores are done, which leaves Minho with the task of making himself presentable. When he'd cooked for other people before, he hadn't bothered changing out of the same house clothes he'd prepared the meals in. Also, this isn't a date, meaning he doesn't have to be as delectable as the food on the table.

Despite that, he wants to look nice without trying too hard. After much deliberation, he settles for a Prussian blue V-neck sweatshirt that he'll accessorize with a small brooch—a white bunny holding a carrot—and a pair of soft denim pants. He then takes his time in the shower, letting the warm water relax him. There's no room for nerves tonight.

Once dressed, he sits on the couch with Soonie and applies moisturizer followed by very little concealer, some BB cream, and a few swipes of lip balm. Then, he blow-dries his hair and uses a round brush so the strands slightly curve inward. He lets his bangs fall over his forehead, the middle part much sparser than the sides.

With a bit of time to spare, Minho places the food in the oven to keep them warm. For their beverage, he whips up a pitcher of orange lemonade. He sets the table as well and checks the apartment one last time for anything that's out of place.

Six minutes later, someone rings the doorbell. Minho takes a deep breath prior to opening the door.

On the other side is Jisung in a white collared shirt topped with a buttoned-up black cardigan that's tucked into black cotton pants. His sleeves have been pushed up halfway to reveal his forearms, and his shoes are a pair of chunky black sneakers. He's adorable beyond measure.

"Heya," greets Minho for the second time that day. "Come in." He shows Jisung where he should place his shoes on the vertical rack and welcomes him to the rest of the studio. "It's tiny, but it's home."

"It's lovely," comments Jisung, his eyes roaming over the kitchen, the living room, and the bed, "and it looks like you've got everything you need. God, it smells unbelievable here. My mouth's watering."

"You can put your bag on the sofa," says Minho with a smile. "I'll go get the food, and Soonie will keep you entertained in the meantime."

"Hi, sweetheart," coos Jisung upon seeing the cat standing beside the door to the veranda. "I'm Jisung."

"If he doesn't take to you right away, don't feel bad," remarks Minho from the kitchen. "He's not that obliging to strangers."

"He's just…staring at me. Is he judging my face?"

"Maybe he thinks you're prey," chuckles Minho, placing the first two dishes on the table.

"I'd let him bite me. He's so cute." Jisung squats next to Soonie and begins gently petting the top of the cat's head. Soonie leans into the touch, though he doesn't move any closer. "I think we're BFFs now."

"More like you're his butler now," remarks Minho, serving the scallops on a plate. "Okay, time to eat."

"Holy moly," says Jisung under his breath when he stands up and sees the dishes. "Are you sure you're a hobbyist and not a professional chef, hyung?"

"Yes, a hundred percent." Minho beams at Jisung's astonished expression upon sitting down. "I should tell you: they're meant to be eaten, not only stared at and drooled over. Lemonade?"

Jisung nods. "I've never been this impressed by homemade cooking. Even my mom can't make these."

"Or she doesn't have the recipe yet," suggests Minho while pouring their drinks. "I'll send you the links. These aren't hard to cook at all."

"Are these giant pasta tubes?!" asks Jisung excitedly while pointing at the dish closest to him.

"It's called manicotti. I stuffed them with pork sausage and cottage cheese. The sauce is just marinara."

Jisung is all smiles as he places two pieces of every dish on his plate. "I'm already giving these fifty out of ten. I legit feel like I'm at a fancy restaurant at this moment." Instead of eating, Minho observes the other when he takes his first bite of the chicken. Jisung's face scrunches into that of someone fake-crying, and by the time he's tried everything, he seems to be on the verge of having a breakdown. "I've been on this planet for twenty-two years, and I never thought food could taste like this."

"You're exaggerating." As proud as Minho is of his culinary skills, he's aware that he has tons left to learn, and that's why he doesn't take compliments seriously. Nonetheless, it warms his heart to see friends and family enjoying what he prepares for them. When it comes to Jisung, his dramatic and vocal reactions are entertaining to watch.

"Hyung, please eat before I shove everything down my throat," begs Jisung.

"Alright, alright," chuckles Minho and goes for the scallops. The sweet, buttery taste of the shellfish is a perfect complement to the saltiness of the bacon. Meanwhile, the chicken is soft and juicy, and the pesto isn't overpowering. As for the manicotti, it has the right ratio of pasta, cheese, meat, and sauce. He decides right then and there to add the three dishes to his list of monthly special dinners. "I chose these from forty-five recipes in a random article. I should probably try the forty-two because these are incredible."

"They're divine," sighs Jisung with a lopsided grin. "I'm truly honored to be your taste tester for this evening." As he's chewing, he takes in his surroundings one more time, his eyes moving with intention from one point of the apartment to the next. "I can't express how much I adore this place. It's so…well loved, like every item has a purpose."

"Thanks. I'm quite serious about being anti-clutter. I was Marie Kondo-ing way before she became an international household name."

They talk of this and that, neither missing a note in the freestyle rhythm of their conversation. Nothing is off-limits, boring, or peculiar. On the occasion that their opinions or tastes differ, there's zero judgment in the air, only curiosity and interest. 

Somehow, Jisung fits into the setting without effort, as though he's visited Minho too many times to count. It's soothing to have him there, his bubbly aura giving more life to the apartment than Minho's indoor plants do. Once Jisung leaves, Minho is sure that instead of relief, he would feel the emptiness and longing that come after an exhilarating event, be it a long-awaited concert or a spontaneous trip to the beach.

That has him thinking about how even though Jisung is everywhere, occupying so much space in his life, he is nowhere in Jisung's, at least not in the place where Minho wants to be in most.

"Man, this must be what it's like to be a stuffed turkey," comments Jisung after swallowing his last piece of scallop and gives his stomach area a few pats. There's nothing on the table but empty dinnerware. "You might have to roll me outta here, hyung."

"I'll find you a ramp for the stairs," says Minho. When he stands up and begins stacking the dishes, Jisung moves to take their glasses and the pitcher. "Leave those in the sink. I hope you still have room for dessert."

Jisung forms an O with his mouth. "I must've fought off colonizers in my past life and won against them to be this lucky. Yes, definitely, I have a second stomach for dessert alone."

Once they're both in the kitchen, Minho goes, "Alright, the thing is, the dessert doesn't exist yet."

Jisung blinks at him twice. "What? I don't get it."

Minho pulls out two identical mugs from the cupboard as well as a carton of soymilk and a small pack of raspberries from the refrigerator. "Let's have a contest to see who can make a better dessert using the same recipe," he declares, smirking at Jisung's stupefied expression. "This is my first attempt, too, so it's a fair challenge."

"Hyung, until now, I still can't cook eggs without burning them."

"We'll use the same timer, if that makes you feel better."

"It doesn't."

"How about if I tell you we'll be making each other's dessert, so even if you burn yours, I have to eat it?"

"...That's a lot worse. For someone who's in the industry, you sure suck at sales talk, Minho-hyung."

"What happens in this kitchen stays in this kitchen," assures Minho, handing Jisung a mug. "C'mon, this won't take long. We'll take turns using the measuring spoons."

Despite moaning in protest, Jisung stays put and reads the recipe on Minho's phone. He also volunteers to extract the lemon juice using a handheld squeezer and grate the zest. The grin on his face doesn't go away as he takes on each task. "'Leave to sit for two to three minutes,'" he reads out loud before switching to the Clock app. "Ready?"

Minho gives his milk-lemon-juice-and-zest mixture a quick stir. "Ready." Jisung presses start. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but from what I can see, you're really enjoying this."

"I guess I'm less worried 'coz I have supervision," admits Jisung with a small smile. "Cooking alone isn't my strong suit. I'm a bigger fire hazard than a puddle of lighter liquid next to an open flame."

"In that case, I'll be your personal fire extinguisher," says Minho, resulting in them grinning at one another.

A few minutes trickle by until it's time to exchange mug cakes. Each has been topped with a large scoop of coffee ice cream and a drizzle of chocolate syrup.

"Hey, no need to be nervous," chuckles Minho when he spots Jisung apprehensively eyeing the mug cake he'd made. "It's just me."

"Yeah, it's you. That's why I'm nervous," mumbles Jisung.

Not reading too much into the other's statement, Minho uses a dessert fork to get a good amount of cake and ice cream and eats the chunk in one go. With Jisung still visibly concerned about the outcome, Minho decides to tease him by frowning and then lifting an eyebrow to feign displeasure. He goes so far as to pretend he's going to hurl with his mouth closed. Only after Jisung gets more alarmed does Minho show his genuine reaction: he smiles and says, "It's delicious, Jisung-ah."

Jisung slaps Minho's upper arm with little force. "I can't believe you, hyung! I thought I'd poisoned you!" He takes up Minho's silent offer to try it himself and squeals with his mouth full. "Oh my god, it is delicious." With that, he moves on to Minho's cake for him. Another squeak escapes him. "It tastes exactly like mine! Wow!"

Minho suggests for them to continue eating in the living room, so they do just that, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa but facing one another, with mere inches between the tips of their toes. Jisung resembles a kid surrounded by presents on Christmas morning. Minho uses the moment to start furthering Felix agenda.

"Because you like desserts so much, I highly recommend talking to Felix about them," he starts. "He's an awesome baker, though that's an extreme understatement. I've tried his brownies, cupcakes, sourdough bread, pies, and—oh! One time, he made macarons! Can you believe it? That man could probably run his own bakeshop if he had the funds for it."

"Your baking skills are impressive, too," says Jisung, "and you managed to make a decent cook out of me just by being there. That's an achievement not everyone in the culinary arts can have."

"You don't understand—Lix can make a five-tier cake decorated with 3D figures with his eyes closed."

"Psh. That's clearly child's play for you."

"It's not," insists Minho, giggling. "I'll ask him to bake his famous brownies so you can try them. You'll find out what it's like to take a bite of heaven, trust me."

"So now you're an expert at sales talk?"

Minho throws a pillow at Jisung, aiming for his face but hitting his shoulder instead. "Baking isn't the only thing Felix is great at. Guess how many taekwondo medals he's received."

"Hmm…" Jisung keeps his fork in this mouth while thinking. "Ten? Fifteen? Am I getting warmer?"

"Sixty. Three," answers Minho with pride. "He beat a guy's ass in college for refusing to go away when our friend told the dude she wasn't interested in him, and our group became untouchable overnight. It was glorious. You should've been there."

"No thanks. Violence is violence is violence, though I support being there and looking out for a friend." Jisung's eyes grow wider all of a sudden. "Hey, didn't you learn taekwondo and hapkido?"

"So what? I have a second-degree black belt, and Felix has a third-degree black belt. He's a much bigger deal than me."

"No, he's not," counters Jisung. "Stop putting yourself down."

"I'm just pointing out facts." Minho scoops up some ice cream and eats it on its own. "Not to mention that Felix has—"

"Do you not want me here, hyung?"

Minho's mind goes blank for several seconds at Jisung's abrupt question. Had he said something rude without knowing it? Had he jumped through time or blacked out? When he fails to recall anything, he asks in return, "What?" He hopes he doesn't sound as dumb as he feels.

"If you don't want me here, just tell me," says Jisung flatly, the joy on his face replaced by an upset expression. "You don't have to spend time with me if you're thinking about somebody else." He gets up from the sofa to go to the kitchen.

Minho stands up as well, leaving his empty mug on the couch, and goes, "I'm not thinking about anybody else."

"Then why do you keep talking about Felix?" demands Jisung, his eyes unfocused with hurt. "I didn't mind it the first few times because I thought, 'Oh, so this is the type of friend Minho-hyung is. He'll speak proudly of you,' and such. But then you kept doing it, and even now that Felix isn't here, he's still the one running through your mind. Tell me to leave, and I will."

"That's… I'm not gonna say that." Looking back, Minho realizes that his actions in the past week could be misinterpreted. He'd carried out his plan without warning or a warm-up, so he can't blame Jisung for coming to the most common conclusion. "I'm sorry, Jisung-ah. I just thought… I thought I was helping you out."

Confusion mars Jisung's features. "What're you talking about? How is that helping me?"

Because Minho hadn't anticipated this, it becomes difficult for him to express himself. He fumbles for words until he finds the clearest ones to explain his situation. "I know about the Prince."

Jisung looks as though he's been doused with ice water. "You do?" he asks, his voice small. "How?"

"I heard it from Channie-hyung when he and Jeongin were at the cafe."

Heavy silence fills the apartment from corner to corner, Jisung remembering that day and Minho waiting for his response. A gamut of emotions seem to plague Jisung, and then, to the other's horror, something brings tears to his eyes. "Is this your way of rejecting me, then?"

Again, nothing makes sense to Minho. He must be going out of his mind. "N-no, what… I'm not rejecting you. It's not what—"

"If you know about the Prince but you're fixating on Felix," continues Jisung in a hushed tone, "then you're telling me that you prefer him even if you're aware that I like you and—"

"What?" asks Minho a second time, his heart getting dizzy. "Did you just say that you like me? Me?"

Instead of answering right away, Jisung stares at Minho with mild bewilderment, which soon melts into cognizance. "Minho-hyung, who do you think the Prince is?"

Dread washes over Minho's entire body from the inside out as he understands what Jisung is implying. In spite of that, his mind refuses to give in to the new information it has received, so Minho says, "But at the coffee shop, there was a moment when Channie-hyung said something to you, then you looked at Felix, and y-you blushed!"

Jisung shakes his head. "I don't know what you saw, but from what I remember from that day, Channie-hyung told me that while you're very good-looking, he thinks Felix is much cuter, and I said I'm still drawn to you a lot more." He pulls his gaze away, a pink hue spreading over his cheeks.

"What about those girls you dated?" asks Minho, not wanting to leave a stone unturned. "Why didn't you ask me out before any of them?"

"I gave up on men months before I met you," replies Jisung. "The ones I liked were either straight or unwilling to commit, which was what I was looking for, and the ones who liked me either had red flags or weren't compatible with me. So even if I found you attractive, I didn't do anything about it. I figured I could try my luck dating women, but as you already know, that also didn't work for me." He fiddles with the fork in his mug and adds, "I assumed you were straight until you told me otherwise."

Minho puts all the pieces together and sees the real bigger picture, the one that has been in front of him all along but he's denied because of his assumptions. Happiness wells up inside him in massive waves, and he's about to express this when Jisung speaks.

"Will you tell me one thing, hyung?" Minho nods slowly, unsure and somewhat frightened of what will come next. "Do I have any chance with you at all?"

If not for the despondency growing on Jisung's face by the second, Minho would laugh his pining heart out at everything that's happened so far. Their misunderstandings are silly if he thinks about them, and it's funny how they're so similar that they'd both been miserable because of Felix, of all people. Does that make them a match in heaven like Changbin and Seungmin are?

"I wish there was a simple answer to that," says Minho in a quiet, neutral tone as he approaches Jisung, who's watching his every move. He takes the other's mug and bends slightly to place it on the coffee table. "Maybe I should just show you." With no reason to hesitate or delay, he pulls Jisung to him by the waist as soon as he has stood up straight and kisses him.

A sound of surprise rises from the back of Jisung's throat upon contact, but it's followed by one of satisfaction not two seconds later. With his eyes closed, Minho feels Jisung's hands roaming over his chest and shoulders and grasping what they can before parking themselves on the sides of Minho's neck, fingers grazing the hair at Minho's nape.

Though Minho has imagined this scene over and over, nothing could've prepared him for how soft Jisung's lips are and how responsive Jisung is. Jisung kisses like he's committing every detail of Minho's mouth to memory, slow and gentle yet never lacking in passion. When Minho lets his tongue flicker out, Jisung eagerly chases it with his own, further igniting the flame building between them.

It's Minho who pulls away first, breathless and his heart drumming wildly. He rests his forehead against Jisung and whispers, "Han Jisung, I want you in every way a person could want another."

"My brain's too fuzzy right now to supply me with an equally romantic line," says Jisung. His half-lidded gaze is set on the other's lips. "God, I'd let you destroy me in a heartbeat."

Minho is tickled pink by the statement. "Now that's romantic," he remarks, capturing Jisung's mouth again as they both giggle. Soon, the kiss becomes more demanding, and without stopping, Minho asks, "Couch or bed?"

"Bed," answers Jisung. When Minho moves his hands to Jisung's ass, Jisung takes the hint and allows himself to be carried, his legs wrapped around Minho's torso. He cups the other's face as they continue kissing and breathing each other in.

Minho sits on the edge of the bed so that Jisung ends up straddling his lap. It's not long before he becomes hyperaware of the tingling in his nether regions, particularly when Jisung moves on top of him. And speaking of Jisung, he's very much in the same state, judging by what Minho can feel brushing against his belly. Remembering the difference in their body count, Minho pulls away again to ask, "Too much?"

With slightly swollen lips, Jisung answers, "Not enough," in a raspy voice dripping with desire and then deftly unbuttons and untucks his cardigan prior to slipping it off his shoulders. The shirt underneath has even more buttons, but he makes quick work of undoing those, too.

Minho watches in awe and removes his sweatshirt in one movement. He's still pulling his forearms out of the sleeves when Jisung, already half-naked, licks his way back into Minho's mouth. Once he's free, he runs his hands over the topography of Jisung's warm back, kneading the prominent muscles there. He lets out a soft groan when Jisung's fingers find his nipples.

"We don't have to do anything you're not ready for," says Minho, alternating between kissing and licking the skin along Jisung's jaw. "Do you want my hand or my mouth?"

Jisung leans back to make eye contact with Minho. Hesitant, he goes, "Can I choose both?"

"Of course," replies Minho with a smirk. He rolls over Jisung to reverse their positions and proceeds to pull down Jisung's loose pants, his eyes having a better view of Jisung's fit upper body and zeroing in on the sight of the other tenting in his black boxers. "Fuck me," he mutters as his own cock twitches in pure anticipation.

"Take yours off, too, hyung," requests Jisung, who scoots backward so his feet are no longer touching the floor. "I need to see you."

"Well aren't you impatient," comments Minho while complying.

"No, just hasn't-had-sex-in-twenty-two-years horny."

Minho snickers and gets on the bed as well, taking in every inch of Jisung's bare skin. "How are you pretty everywhere?" He lowers himself, aiming for Jisung's mouth, but Jisung meets him halfway, resulting in an ardent kiss peppered with smiles and giggles.

Jisung throws his head back on the pillows to give Minho better access to his neck, which Minho bites and sucks in random places. As Minho moves to play with Jisung's nipples using his tongue, he brings his left hand south to grab as much as he can of Jisung's bulge through the cloth, drawing a gasp from the man beneath him. He's so turned on by the shape and feel of Jisung's dick that he swears he can sense his asshole lubing itself.

Unable to wait any longer, Minho open mouth-kisses his way down, his lips and tongue and teeth getting fully acquainted with Jisung's sculpted abdomen and the light trail of hair running from his belly button to where he's still covered up. Minho hooks his fingers onto the waistband of Jisung's boxers, but before he can do anything else, he gazes up at a highly aroused Jisung and asks, "Are you sure about this?"

Jisung lovingly rakes the fingers of his right hand through Minho's hair and goes, "Hyung, your face is an inch away from my genitalia. Feel free to put two and two together."

Minho throws Jisung a look of disgust. "Don't say 'genitalia' in bed again or else you'll never hear from my boner."

"Then don't ask questions you already know the answer to," says Jisung and taps the tip of Minho's nose with a forefinger. "Yes, I'm sure. I trust you to give me my first blowjob."

With that, Minho tugs Jisung's underwear all the way down, sitting back on his heels so he can slip it off the other's feet. It lands just beside the bed but goes unnoticed because Minho's entire being is focused on the very naked, very appetizing Jisung lying before him. How long has this scene been a constant visitor in his dreams?

He lifts up Jisung's right leg, places a kiss on the bony part of the inner ankle, and works his way up, noting the surprisingly fine hair on the slender limb. His hand reaches Jisung's groin first, wrapping around the shaft tentatively. Jisung makes a noise that gets Minho's blood pumping, and because Minho wants to hear it again, he finally puts his mouth on the length pulsating in his hand.

Minho sees and hears Jisung inhale sharply between his teeth as he uses his tongue to lick the shaft. Once it's thoroughly slick, he places a gentle, wet kiss on the tip before allowing the head and half of the length to slip between his lips, earning a strangled moan from the other. He uses one hand to pump Jisung's cock in a spiral motion in time with the dipping and rising of his head and the other to give Jisung's balls much-needed attention. 

Not yet knowing what Jisung prefers, Minho starts out slow and gradually increases his pace, taking cues from Jisung's reactions to back up or keep going. In between the shifts, he pulls away and does extra things to show his love for Jisung's cock, like wetting his lips and repeatedly gliding them over the length, sucking on each and both of the balls, and lightly tapping the cock on his cheeks and tongue. Jisung welcomes all of them.

When Minho changes his rhythm again, Jisung moans out, "Sh-shit, I'm close." This prompts Minho to remove his hand and sink down until his nose comes into contact with pubic hair and he feels Jisung's cock hit the back of his throat. He lets his mouth be properly fucked with many shallow thrusts to climax, a string of whimpers from the other permeating the air, and then he swallows every drop of come as though it's liquid sustenance.

With his fingers drawing circles on Jisung's lower abdomen and his cheek resting against the crook of Jisung's bent leg, Minho makes eye contact and asks, "Did I live up to your expectations of oral sex?"

It takes a moment for Jisung to respond, his voice as dazed as he appears. "I didn't even know those sensations existed," he says, to which Minho giggles. "C'mere. I also wanna do it to you. And don't ask me if I'm sure," he adds before Minho can sound out a word.

"I wasn't gonna," lies Minho. "I was about to say that you can stop anytime." However, although he's ready to exchange places with Jisung, he's met with a dubious expression. "Having second thoughts?"

Jisung quickly shakes his head. "Could… Could we try a different…position?" he asks in all manners of shyness.

I really hit the jackpot with this one. Which gay god do I thank? "What position are you thinking of?"

"Um, just… You'll stand up, and I'll kneel in front of you."

Minho is able to bite back a smile but unable to prevent his dick from jumping in his boxers. "Alright." He chuckles as Jisung, still only in his birthday suit, excitedly moves to the area by the foot of the bed. But instead of doing the same thing, Minho walks over to the sofa first to grab one of the small rectangular pillows there. "So your knees won't hurt," he reasons, placing it on the floor.

"Such a gentleman," comments Jisung with an amused grin. He wraps his arms around the other's neck when they kiss, messier and more urgent.

The moment they break apart, Minho thinks Jisung will get right to the main part, but he's proven wrong when Jisung holds him steady by the back of his head and left shoulder and licks his outer ear. A shiver instantly runs up his spine.

"I had a feeling," whispers Jisung, "you'd be sensitive here." He nibbles on the soft earlobe, traces the shell of Minho's ear with kisses, and gently sucks on the small area where the tragus is.

"Jisung-ah."

"Hmm?"

"If you don't go down on me in the next two minutes, my underwear will be ruined."

Jisung giggles, dropping a feathery kiss where Minho's ear and jaw meet. "Who's impatient now?" he teases, sliding his hands down to Minho's chest so he can run his thumbs over Minho's already erect nipples.

"Not impatient," corrects Minho. "Just about to be blown by the guy I've been jerking off to for months." They get into a fit of laughter, which does nothing to ease the ache growing in Minho's loins because even Jisung's smile and the sound of Jisung's laugh feed his libido.

"Alright," says Jisung. "I'll shut up now." After they share a quick yet fervent kiss, he explores Minho's body with his mouth and fingers and leaves a few marks that would later deepen in color. He bends at the knees as he goes further down, giving Minho's firm ass a good kneading as soon as his hands reach it. When his knees hit the pillow, he nuzzles the toned stomach at his eye level, his breath tickling Minho. 

Minho keeps his eyes on Jisung not only to admire the other's endearing face but also to look out for any sign of discomfort. He'd rather have blue balls than coerce the other, especially because it's his first time at this. He watches Jisung lean back slightly before divesting him of his last piece of clothing.

Granted, Minho has slept with a couple of virgins on separate occasions, so he expects Jisung to get as worked up or flustered as they'd been when he'd had stripped down to nothing.

But like many aspects about him, what Jisung does next is a curveball. In a casual manner, he takes Minho's cock at the base to align it with his mouth, gets close enough to be an inch away from it, and then tips his head up. "Any advice before I suck you off?" he asks, the combo of his round eyes, perpetually pouty lower lip, and soft cheeks being the antithesis of his question and the dick he's holding.

"Breathe through your nose," is Minho's reply.

Jisung smirks and says, "I know that much at least."

Similar to Minho, he kicks off with the process of lubrication, except he goes for a different method: he collects a good amount of spit on his palm and coats Minho's length with it before stroking the shaft at a slow pace, earning a stretchy groan from its owner. After several strokes, only then does Jisung swirl his tongue around the engorged head and take into his mouth the part of the shaft he can't cover with one hand.

Jisung mimics what the other had done earlier, his head and hand moving at the same time, every now and then gazing up at Minho, who's over-the-moon mesmerized. He changes it up at random intervals—from tracing the veins on the shaft with the tip of his tongue to massaging the ball sack with his mouth—likely to keep Minho guessing and purring. Minho gives him feedback, be it 'fuck yes' or 'ah, watch the teeth,' and Jisung demonstrates how fast of a learner he is.

Through the haze of his desire, Minho notices that Jisung is erect again, his dick already leaking precum and rubbing against his thighs every time he moves. "Don't you want to touch yourself, Jisung-ah?"

"I'm not a multitasker," admits Jisung, his lower lip grazing the slit of Minho's cock when he speaks, "but I'll give it a whirl." He lifts up his free hand closer to Minho's face and goes, "Spit."

"I have lube," grins Minho.

"That's for another time. Spit," repeats Jisung, sounding more determined.

Minho feels his cock jerk in Jisung's loose grip. There are no words for how irresistible Jisung is to him right now. "You're annoying," he jests and gives each of Jisung's fingers a good suck before spitting twice into the cupped palm. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," says Jisung, lust shaping his eyes. With his left hand holding his length and his right hand around Minho's shaft, he gets to work on both, falling into the same rhythm at the onset.

The pressure at the center of Minho's groin builds and builds and escalates exponentially when Jisung goes from stroking him with five digits to just his thumb and forefinger in order to maximize the amount of cock he's sucking on. Soon enough, Minho is delirious with pleasure—his head is thrown back, his eyes are closed, and loud gasps trickle between his lips.

When his ears detect what could only be mild choking, Minho quickly looks down at Jisung. But his worry dissipates on the spot because he sees that despite the tears in his eyes, Jisung has managed to fit Minho's cock into his mouth and is showing no signs of wanting to stop.

His vigorous self-servicing and the obscenely wet and slide of the blowjob has Minho teetering on the edge of his climax, and it's when Jisung moans and locks gazes with him that he comes so hard he cries out, shoving his dick farther into Jisung on instinct.

The area around his mouth glistening with spittle, Jisung swallows the cum after separating himself from Minho's cock to focus on masturbating. Minho kneels in front of him, the hard floor be damned, and silently offers to take over the handjob. Relenting, Jisung latches his swollen lips onto Minho's, whining with rapture at the other's firm strokes. It doesn't take long for him to curse as his cum spurts out of him and gets on their stomachs, some of it finding its way on Minho's half-erect cock.

"Can't let this go to waste," murmurs Minho, wiping up the viscous liquid with his fingers and licking his hand clean afterward.

"You're crazy, crazy beautiful," says Jisung in a hushed tone as though he's thinking out loud.

"So are you," returns Minho and grins at the other's blissed out face. "Shower then cuddle a bit?"

"Is it okay if I stay the night?"

"Did I say anything about letting you leave?" teases Minho. He then stands up before helping Jisung off the floor and removing the pillow's case to chuck it into the laundry basket.

In the bathroom, they scrub each other's backs and kiss between giggles a few more times as the warm water cascades down their spent bodies. Minho finds a toothbrush for Jisung and lends him a pair of boxers and a long-sleeved shirt to sleep in. He opts for a tee and pajama pants.

Looking at Soonie all curled up on top of the fridge, Jisung asks, "How did he sleep through all that?"

"Not even gunfire and explosions in action movies can wake him," answers Minho. He's sitting cross-legged on the bed behind Jisung, whose hair he's drying with a towel.

"That's cute."

"Mmm. Like you."

Jisung shuffles while still seated to face Minho with a goofy smile curving his lips and some of his damp hair covering his eyes. He grabs the towel and begins using it on Minho. "You know, I've always been curious about something," he starts.

"Not surprising 'coz that's your default mode."

"Haha," says Jisung, sticking his tongue out like a child. "As I was saying, will you tell me why you give me a daisy every time I go to the cafe?"

Though Minho can think of five or six wisecracks to respond with, the warmth bubbling in his chest and Jisung's sweet countenance dissuade him from being less than serious. He places his hands on Jisung's knees and caresses the smooth skin there with his fingertips before speaking.

"I don't know if you recall, but the first day I did that, you were in a horrible mood. It took you longer than usual to call me over 'coz you were staring into space, and you didn't even look at me as you were ordering."

"Yeah, I remember that clearly," says Jisung without pausing in his task as a human hair dryer. "That was the tail end of two weeks of getting zero time to myself because of schoolwork. I felt drained and overwhelmed, just exhausted to the bone. I could've stayed at home to rest, but my books and stuff were everywhere, and they reminded me of the stress I went through. I didn't have the energy to clean up, and so I went to the coffee shop instead."

"That was flawless timing, though," remarks Minho, feeling more relaxed the longer Jisung rubs his scalp with the towel. "The day before that, I found the vase I use for the flowers, so I brought it to the cafe and put daisies in it before we opened the store. When I saw the little rain cloud over you, even if I wanted to do something, I couldn't just approach you. I had to still be me, your waiter, and that's how I thought of sharing a daisy with you and talking about your food in a funny way."

Minho moves his hands to the middle of Jisung's thighs and gives them a gentle squeeze. Out of shyness, he avoids meeting the other's eyes.

"I was already infatuated with you then," he continues, "but I saw you smile when you got the flower and laugh when you heard the descriptions—your eyes were sparkling and everything—and I'm pretty sure that made me fall in love with you." Feeling braver after his admission, he lifts his gaze to a teary-eyed Jisung. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," says Jisung, chuckling despite his semi-weepy eyes. "But hyung, I should tell you… That was the time I fell in love with you, too. I love flowers, but I never get them, and you gave me one when I needed it most." A couple of tears roll down his cheeks, and Minho wipes them away with his thumbs as he cups Jisung's face.

"Your nose is red, and not in a flattering way," comments Minho to lighten the mood. "Thank you for telling me about that. At least now I know every cent I spent on daisies was worth it."

Jisung giggles and leans forward to give Minho a tender kiss. "Does this mean we're together?" he asks afterward. "Or do you wanna go on a real date first?"

"Well, seeing as you're a crybaby"—Jisung lightly slaps Minho on the shoulder—"I'll make it easy for you to land me for good." Jisung rolls his eyes. "You only have to answer one question."

"What is it?"

After clearing his throat, Minho goes, "Are you open to doing butt sex in the future? There's no right or wrong answer here."

Jisung howls in laughter, successfully disturbing Soonie's slumber. Meanwhile, Minho keeps a mostly straight face and limits himself to laughing through his nose so that Jisung would take his joke as seriously as possible.

"Hyung," says Jisung once he recovers, getting on Minho's lap and allowing Minho to hold him by the waist, "you have my heart, mind, soul, and body, including every part of my butt."

"Wonderful," remarks Minho as he inches closer for a kiss. "Then yes, we're officially together."

🌼🌼🌼

vitamin_ho: i'm off the market now :)

netfLIX00: ohmyGOOOOSSSHHH CONGRATS HYUNG!!!!

shakeSPEARe_0898: ATTABOY!!!!!

hwangjanim: my theory was 100% correct then. congratulations!!

sm_in_the_bldg: finally the pining will stop, it was hard to watch, good for you hyung

vitamin_ho: what theory are you talking about? @hwangjanim

hwangjanim: remember when i hugged you at the cafe?

hwangjanim: i had a feeling jisung already liked you back then

hwangjanim: so i went to check if he'd get jealous if i made a move on you

hwangjanim: and he diiiddd hahahahaha the face he made was P-R-I-C-E-L-E-S-S XD

netFLIX00: uh… hyunjin-ah are you home right now? ^^;

hwangjanim: yeah, why?

netFLIX00: minho-hyung hasn't replied in 10 mins so i think he may have gone to your place

netFLIX00: to beat you up ^^;;;;;;;

sm_in_the_bldg: i'll send flowers to your funeral [bouquet emoji]

hwangjanim: are you for real??

shakeSPEARe_0898: i'd lock your front door if i were you

hwangjanim: I AM MOVING TO ANOTHER PLANET AS WE SPEAK BYE

sm_in_the_bldg: nice knowing you, hyunjin-ah :D

vitamin_ho: soonie knocked over my glass of juice and i had to clean it up but thanks for the idea @netFLIX00

hwangjanim: LEE FELIX I AM BREAKING UP WITH YOU

vitamin_ho: what

sm_in_the_bldg: what

shakeSPEARe_0898: what

netFLIX00: shit