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There’s this guy who simply will not leave Dongmin alone.
Which— okay. It’s not like he’s annoying or anything, and he’s not going out of his way to pop up in Dongmin’s life either (at least, Dongmin hopes he isn’t), but ever since they first ran into each other he’s been showing up all over the place. Maybe he’d always been around, and Dongmin had just never noticed him before.
He’s not joking about the whole ‘ran into each other’ thing, either. Their first meeting was a collision in the most literal sense – one moment, Dongmin is just going about his day, and the next he finds himself with a series of massive cracks across his phone’s screen and a pair of scraped up palms, thanks to catching himself against the pavement.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you coming!” A voice calls out from somewhere behind Dongmin, and when he reaches back to steady himself as he turns around to look, a calloused hand is suddenly wrapped around his wrist. “Careful, there’s glass everywhere.”
The first impression Dongmin has seeing the guy's face is that he looks kinda intense. Big lips paired with even bigger, shiny eyes, which are only emphasised further by his crazy prominent aegyosal. Part of Dongmin wonders if he’s wearing light makeup, or if this guy just looks like… that. The second impression he gives Dongmin is that he kinda reminds him of a little duckling, with the light spattering of freckles across his face and the odd strands of hair sticking straight up in the air, snapped off where they’ve been over-fried by bleach.
“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t really paying attention to my surroundings,” Dongmin says, and it’s not like it’s a lie either. Constantly walking around with music blasting through his headphones and his nose buried in his SNS feeds was bound to come back and bite him in the ass at some point.
The guy uses his grip on Dongmin’s wrist to haul him up to his feet, only for Dongmin to instantly be struck with the intrusive thought that maybe the reason he didn’t see this guy coming is because he’s just so small. He’s not necessarily even that short – it’s not like he’s any smaller than Sanghyeok, but he’s not any taller than him, either. Most people tend to be on the shorter side in comparison to Dongmin as it is anyway; there’s a reason why the ‘Taesan’ nickname stuck around so easily within his social circle.
Dongmin is broken from his less-than-socially-acceptable thoughts by the sound of the guy hissing through his teeth, a pained grimace painted across his face as he gingerly inspects the damage done to Dongmin’s hands.
“Come on, I’ll get you cleaned up.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s just a scrape,” Dongmin tries to say, but his protest goes entirely ignored, and he’s helpless to follow along while the guy drags him into the cafe they’d had their little accident outside of.
It’s only when Dongmin is being pushed to make himself comfortable on a well-loved leather sofa that he notices the denim apron wrapped around the stranger’s body – apparently his absent-mindedness had him inconveniencing this guy while he’s at work. Dongmin glances around the cafe while the poor employee disappears somewhere off behind the counter, at least the early hour and complete lack of customers seems to allude to the fact that it isn’t even open for the day yet.
The cafe itself is pretty cool, actually – Dongmin’s kind of disappointed he’d never taken any notice of it until he’d literally been forced inside against his will. It has this whole Americana vibe going on; there’s prints of old movie posters and skate magazine covers plastered on the walls, and the shelves filled with all sorts of old memorabilia and vintage hi-fi tech. Dongmin even huffs out a laugh as soon as he notices one of the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, seeing that it’s literally just an old sticker-covered basketball with a wedge cut out of it.
“Sorry for the wait!” The stranger’s voice calls out from across the room, and the very next moment he’s emerging from behind the counter, first aid kit in hand. He drops onto the low coffee table in front of the sofa – a move that he’d probably get some sort of disapproving look for, had there been anybody else in the cafe – and snaps the latches of the plastic box open, rifling around its contents to procure a bottle of antiseptic and some gauze.
“I’m Jiseok, by the way,” he says, not looking up as he struggles only a little bit against the child safety cap. He reaches out, pausing for a fraction of a second in a silent request for Dongmin’s hand.
When Dongmin offers it, Jiseok’s touch is surprisingly steady. He dabs a cool, stinging cotton ball against the meat of Dongmin’s palm, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration. "And don't even start with the 'it's just a scrape' thing again. If you get an infection because I was rushing to open the shop, I’ll have that on my conscience forever."
Dongmin lets out a painful hiss as the alcohol bites into a particularly deep gash, his fingers twitching reflexively. Jiseok immediately leans in, blowing a gentle breath of air over the sting. It’s such an instinctively domestic gesture that Dongmin feels a weird heat creep up his neck – one that has nothing to do with the antiseptic irritating his skin.
"Sorry, sorry," Jiseok mutters, pulling Dongmin’s hand closer to focus on a stubborn piece of gravel stuck near the base of his thumb. "I'll be done in a minute.”
True to his word, Jiseok picks up the pace, securing a gauze pad over the broken skin before moving on to do it all again with Dongmin’s other hand.
“There. All patched up,” Jiseok says, finally pulling back and giving Dongmin’s hand one last, playful pat. He stands up, sweeping the first aid supplies back into the box in a whirlwind of motion. “Stay put. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”
Truthfully speaking, Dongmin doesn’t have any reason to stick around any longer than he already had. Now that his wounds had been sufficiently cleaned up – something Jiseok really didn’t have to worry himself over in the first place – he should be up and on his way, leaving the barista to get back to work. Unfortunately for him, Jiseok disappears before Dongmin even has the chance to thank him for his kindness, leaving him awkwardly glued to the sofa.
Dongmin’s gaze drifts over to the street-facing windows, landing on the exact spot where the collision happened. Jiseok’s earlier comment about being careful of broken glass hadn’t really registered in the moment, but looking back now, it’s obvious why he’d said it. The pavement is stained dark, with a plastic crate laying on its side among the shattered remains of vintage-style soda bottles. Jiseok must’ve been bringing them inside when he and Dongmin tripped over each other.
"Man... I really did a number on that," Jiseok sighs, startling Dongmin out of his thoughts. Following his gaze, Jiseok is staring at the cracked screen of Dongmin’s phone, his shoulders slumped under the weight of his denim apron. “Look, let me make it up to you. I’m here every morning from eight; if you come by, coffee’s on me. For a week. Or a month.” Jiseok chews the inside of his cheek, looking genuinely remorseful. “Or however long it takes for me to stop feeling like an asshole, really.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Dongmin immediately says, the first words to come out of his mouth after being dragged inside against his will. “Seriously, I’ve already caused enough trouble for you.”
Jiseok glances out toward the street, no doubt having noticed what Dongmin was so focused on while he was gone. “Dude, don’t even worry about that. A few bottles of cola are nothing in comparison to me breaking your phone.”
“You didn’t break it,” Dongmin groans, tipping his head back until it hits the wall. “I’m the one who wasn’t paying attention—”
“How old are you?”
“Huh?” Dongmin blinks, caught off guard by the sudden question. Jiseok doesn’t repeat himself, just meets Dongmin’s gaze head-on, waiting. “Uh, I’m born in ‘04…”
“Great,” Jiseok says, a wide grin taking over his face. “You should respect your elders, and your elders are telling you to stop being so polite and just accept the free coffee.”
“What would you have done if I was older than you?”
“I dunno,” Jiseok shrugs, contemplating for a moment. “Probably beg and grovel about how it’s only right for me to make it up to you as my hyung.”
Dongmin lets out an exasperated laugh; there really was no getting around this guy. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Never said I wasn’t! Anyway,” Jiseok steps back from where he’d subtly caged Dongmin in between the couch and the low table, gesturing toward a take-out cup Dongmin hadn’t noticed him placing down. “I hope iced americano is okay.”
“It’s great, um,” Dongmin hurries to leave now that Jiseok was giving him an invitation to get out of his hair, shoving his phone into his pocket and cringing only a little bit at the sensation of condensation seeping through the gauze. “I’ll see you around…?”
“I’d hope so!” Jiseok beams, walking in step with Dongmin on the way to the door. “You have a reason to come back, after all.”
⋅ ─── ⋅ ஐ ⋅ ─── ⋅
Dongmin doesn’t go back.
It’s not that he’s holding a grudge or anything – Jiseok had done a great job of patching him up, even if he really didn’t have to – it’s just that Dongmin was a creature of habit. Visiting the cafe wasn’t ever on his radar before, so it wasn’t on his radar now, either. Before long, the spiderweb cracks across his phone’s screen start to read as a reminder of his own clumsiness rather than some perceived debt that needs to be settled. As far as he was concerned, Dongmin likely wouldn't be seeing Jiseok ever again.
Unfortunately, the universe seemed to have other plans. Or rather, Jiseok had a peculiar way of suddenly existing within Dongmin’s orbit.
Half a week after the incident Dongmin finds himself on a late-night convenience store run, staring into the endless rows of triangle kimbap until his tired mind could decide which of them was the most appealing at that moment.
“Sorry, can I just—”
Dongmin steps aside, allowing the person who had been browsing alongside him to reach for whatever they wanted. Dongmin’s gaze unconsciously follows the extended limb, surprised to find it attached to a familiar shock of bleached hair. He almost wonders if he’d managed to fall asleep standing up; the only way he could rationalize Jiseok suddenly appearing out of thin air is if it were a dream.
Jiseok must feel him staring because he tilts his head to look up at Dongmin, his eyes immediately widening with recognition.
“Oh! It’s you, small world, huh?”
Dongmin doesn’t respond verbally – simply offers Jiseok a single, slow nod, still not fully comprehending whether or not he was actually standing right in front of him. Jiseok doesn’t pay any mind to the strange behaviour, immediately leaning forward to try and get a look at Dongmin’s palms.
“How are the scrapes? Any issues?”
Dongmin holds up his hands. The gauze is gone, replaced with thin, pinkish lines that are healing cleanly. “I survived.”
“Good,” Jiseok nods, tipping his head toward the refrigerated shelves in front of them. “Are you hungry? Pick whatever you want, my treat.”
“Absolutely not your treat,” Dongmin scowls, stepping back and clutching his basket close to his body. “I’m just getting some snacks.”
Jiseok’s eyes flicker down with the movement, staring at the small collection of drinks and chips Dongmin had already thrown in as if it’d give him some insight into Dongmin’s tastes. “Hurry up and choose something, or I’m choosing for you.”
Dongmin brushes the interaction off as a total fluke. Even with the week’s worth of snacks taunting him from his kitchen cabinets – all paid for by Jiseok, much to Dongmin’s dismay – he still makes absolutely no progress on returning to the cafe to take Jiseok up on his offer.
He really should’ve known it was too good to be true when, two days later, Jiseok just so happens to be at a record store Dongmin likes to frequent.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Jiseok’s head whips up at the sound of Dongmin’s voice, a bright grin breaking out across his features. “Fancy meeting you here!”
“I could say the same,” Dongmin mumbles, sidling up to where Jiseok had been flipping through a stack of post-punk LPs before he arrived. “I’ve been coming here for years, how come we’ve never seen each other before?”
“We probably have, it’s just different now that we know each other. Frequency illusion, you know?” Jiseok shrugs. “You never told me your name, actually.”
At this, Dongmin feels himself flush. He hadn’t even realized – for all the time he’d spent absent-mindedly thinking about Jiseok over the past week, the man in question only knew him as some clumsy guy who added unnecessary stress to the beginning of his work day.
“Uh, Dongmin,” he supplies, though it comes out a little weaker than expected. Clearing his throat, he tries again; “Han Dongmin.”
“Well, Han Dongmin-ssi, it’s nice to finally be able to put a name to the face,” Jiseok says, bumping his shoulder against Dongmin’s arm. “I’m Kwak Jiseok.”
“I know,” Dongmin responds – a bit too quickly, sputtering when he realizes his tone came across as rude. “I mean, you told me your name back at the cafe— your first name, at least…”
Jiseok laughs, seemingly delighted to watch Dongmin suffer.
By the second week, Dongmin’s daily life becomes a game of ‘Where’s Jiseok?’
He’s at the public library, fighting with the photocopier when Dongmin goes to print some things off for work. He’s at the cinema during a late-night screening of an old cult classic, throwing popcorn at a friend and accidentally hitting the back of Dongmin’s head. He even shows up at a local park while Dongmin is on his lunch break, sitting on a nearby bench and humming along to whatever he has playing through his headphones. Dongmin runs into Jiseok in the produce section at the supermarket. A gig at a tiny live house. A random store during a sudden bout of rain. A bus stop.
Dongmin feels like he’s going insane. It doesn’t help that he’s experiencing Kwak Jiseok’s annoyingly persistent existence by himself. Unfortunately, mentally running through his closest friends to figure out who is best to talk to about this whole phenomenon isn’t exactly… inspiring.
Sungho is immediately out – despite his efforts to portray himself as the strong, reliable eldest, Dongmin just knows the moment he gets even the tiniest whiff of gossip, Sungho will return to his true nature of practically being a teenage girl. Jaehyun and Sanghyeok are out for similar reasons; only they’ll turn into a pair of demons and start teasing Dongmin to hell and back over it. They’re weirdly symbiotic, actually. Sanghyeok is apparently the funniest person Jaehyun knows, and Jaehyun reacting to every little thing like he’s not allowed to laugh at home only serves to spur Sanghyeok on.
Then there’s Woonhak, which… immediately, no. Dongmin’s relationship with their youngest is built on a foundation of being the older brother Woonhak never had, which means willfully giving him any form of ammunition to use against Dongmin – no matter how insignificant – is completely off the table.
With that, all that’s left is Donghyun. He’s definitely the weirdest out of them, but that doesn’t mean he’s a bad choice to go to when being bothered by something. Besides, Jiseok is weird – and if he was being honest with himself, Dongmin is weird too – so maybe it’d be for the best. Weird knows weird.
At the very next opportunity where their schedules line up, Dongmin graces Donghyun with his presence (read; barges into his apartment completely unannounced), sprawling out across his bed to recount each and every run-in he’d had with Jiseok thus far. Donghyun, for his part, gives Dongmin the space to ramble; simply nodding along while half-preoccupied with his latest aquascaping project.
“Okay,” Donghyun says when Dongmin is finally done, leaving the single word to hang in the silence between them for a long moment. And then; “what do you want from me here?”
And oh, isn’t there something so beautiful about having Donghyun be the person to go to for these kinds of things? Most people probably despise his apparent inability to just know how he’s supposed to respond in social situations, but Dongmin loves it. Donghyun is great when it comes to sympathizing and commiserating and offering up advice, but he’ll only do it when it’s directly asked of him. Canned empathy is the exact kind of thing a person like Dongmin hates, even if it typically is the socially accepted response.
Dongmin stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stars Donghyun had stuck to his ceiling in a fit of whimsy three years ago, watching the way the afternoon light catches the glittering particles of dust dancing above the bed.
"I don't know," Dongmin admits, his voice muffled by a pillow. "I think I just need someone to acknowledge that this isn't normal.”
Donghyun finally looks up from his aquarium, a dripping piece of driftwood in one hand and a pair of long aquascaping tweezers in the other. He tilts his head, considering Dongmin with an unsettling, wide-eyed stare that makes him look like he’s peering into a different dimension.
"Is he mean?" Donghyun asks. "You said he’s small. You could probably take him.”
Dongmin snorts at the mental image of getting into a physical fight with Jiseok, of all people. "No. He’s... aggressively nice, if anything.”
"Then he’s not a problem," Donghyun shrugs, turning back to his tank to wedge the wood into the substrate. “So, you’re bothered because he’s intruding on your solitude, or because you actually kind of like the attention and you don't know what to do with that?”
“I don’t like the attention,” Dongmin snaps, though his voice lacks its usual conviction. “I just don’t know what to do about the whole seeing him literally everywhere I go thing.”
“Go to the cafe,” Donghyun suggests, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “If you go on purpose and let him follow through on that offer, maybe then you’ll stop noticing him everywhere.”
⋅ ─── ⋅ ஐ ⋅ ─── ⋅
Dongmin doesn’t even get the chance to visit Jiseok at the cafe before all hell breaks loose within the circus that is otherwise known as his friend group.
In going to Donghyun about the entire Jiseok situation, Dongmin had somehow overlooked one crucial part of his personality – while Donghyun may not gossip in the traditional sense, when it comes to the six of them, he lacks a fundamental filter for what should be considered confidential. If he hadn’t explicitly been told to keep something under wraps, as far as Donghyun was concerned, all information was group information.
[ Donghyun ]
hey, does anyone know if the place where dongmin’s boyfriend works is expensive?
I was thinking about checking it out
For exactly three perfect, blissful minutes, the chat remains silent. Then, the dam breaks.
[ Sungho ]
Excuse me???
Dongmin has a WHAT?
[ Jaehyun ]
BOYFRIEND?
since when ??
?????????
[ Sanghyeok ]
Is that why he’s been acting like a weirdo lately?
[ Jaehyun ]
wdym
[ Sanghyeok ]
I saw him when I was running an errand the other day
So I went to say hi bc like
Duh
And the way he reacted was kinda… idk
Then he said he thought I was somebody else
[ Donghyun ]
that makes sense
[ Jaehyun ]
WDYM
[ Donghyun ]
dongmin said he’s around sanghyeok’s height
[ Sungho ]
Why are we finding out about this from you, anyway???
@Dongmin ??????????
The direct ping breaking through his do-not-disturb settings is what alerts Dongmin to the fact that he was even being talked about in the first place. He loves his friends, of course, but a solid ninety-five percent of activity within their group chat is just banter and dumb memes. You really can’t blame him for not wanting his (already suffering) phone to be blown up at all times.
Dongmin blindly unlocks the device under the guise that he’s being summoned to give his opinion on what he wanted to eat for their weekly ‘family dinner’, only to be proven horrifically wrong the moment he scrolls up to backread the conversation.
[ Donghyun ]
maybe not boyfriend idk
dongmin just talked about him for 40 mins while I was scaping
I assumed
[ Jaehyun ]
hmmm
[ Sanghyeok ]
Hmmm
[ Woonhak ]
now that u mention it
hyung and i were hanging out yesterday
his phone is totally trashed rn
but he was soooo cagey when i asked him what happened
[ Donghyun ]
jiseok broke it
it’s how they met
[ Sungho ]
You know the guy's NAME???
WHILE WE KNOW NOTHING????????
@Dongmin
[ Sanghyeok ]
HMMMMM @Dongmin
[ Jaehyun ]
HMMMMMMMM @Dongmin
[ Donghyun ]
@Dongmin (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)
hehe
Dongmin watches the messages fly by until the screen dims and times out, leaving his own reflection to blankly stare back through the spiderweb of cracks. He feels a migraine forming behind his eyes, there’s no way in hell they’d drop the topic by the time family dinner rolled around in, oh, less than forty-eight hours.
He hadn’t told Donghyun to keep it a secret because, in Dongmin’s mind, it wasn’t a thing. Or – it was a thing, but it wasn’t enough of a thing to warrant the entire group finding out about it. The way Donghyun presented the narrative to make it seem like there was something going on between Dongmin and Jiseok didn’t help whatsoever – he just wanted to vent about a weird series of coincidences.
Dongmin very seriously considers skipping the weekly meetup with his friends. He could easily text Sungho and say he’s coming down with something and didn’t want to risk getting the others sick, but he already knew exactly how that would play out. Sungho would absolutely believe it, but that meant he’d show up on Dongmin’s doorstep to look after him. Tolerable enough, only Jaehyun would smugly invite himself along, already knowing full well that Dongmin’s excuse was a complete and utter lie.
"I’m here," Dongmin announces the moment he sets foot in Sungho and Jaehyun’s shared apartment, his voice flat. "Don't start."
“Start what?” Sanghyeok asks, tipping his head over the back of the sofa to look at Dongmin standing in the entryway. “We’re just here for a nice, quiet dinner. Right, Jaehyun-ah?”
“Right,” Jaehyun agrees, “though I might have to invest in some more chairs, since I’m sure certain boyfriends will be joining our little family get-togethers sooner or later.”
"He’s not my boyfriend," Dongmin hisses, kicking off his shoes and heading straight for the safety of the kitchen island.
“Don’t mind them, Taesan-ah,” Sungho says when Dongmin slumps into one of the tall barstools, immediately feeding him a piece of pork directly from the frying pan. “But I think we’re all curious to find out what’s been happening in your corner of the world after that bomb Donghyun dropped in the chat the other day.”
“It’s really not as big of a thing as you guys are making it out to be,” Dongmin mutters, leaning forward to bury his face into where his arms are folded on the countertop. “I just ran into a guy— literally. I broke my phone, he felt bad, so he patched up my hands and offered me free coffee to make up for it. That’s it.”
“That’s not it, though,” Donghyun calls from the living room. Dongmin’s surprised to find that he’d even been listening, given that he was currently locked in on a game of Smash with Woonhak. “You told me you keep seeing him everywhere.”
Dongmin groans, realizing there was no way he’d be getting out of this easily – at least, not with Donghyun there to continuously remind everyone that there’s more to the story that Dongmin isn’t letting them in on. So, he starts from the top, regaling them with each and every little encounter that he’d had with Kwak Jiseok in the few weeks since they’d met.
“So it’s a meet-cute,” Jaehyun decides as soon as Dongmin is done.
“A meet-what?”
“A meet-cute,” he repeats, rolling his eyes at Dongmin’s blank stare. “You know, a spontaneous first encounter? Instant chemistry??”
“Aw, our Taesanie is living in a rom-com,” Sanghyeok coos, reaching out to mess up Dongmin’s dark hair.
“I’m not living in a rom-com,” Dongmin insists, swatting Sanghyeok’s hands away with a scowl. “It’s just… weird.”
“You don’t think you’re in trouble, Hyung?” It’s Woonhak’s turn to cut in – for as much of a brat as he liked to be as their group’s youngest, the reality of him being the eldest in his actual family still managed to occasionally slip through. “Like, this guy isn’t stalking you or anything, right?”
“I’m fine, Woonhakie,” Dongmin says, a hint of softness creeping into his voice. Woonhak always managed to have that effect on him. “Half the time Jiseok’s the one who’s there first, I’d be pretty impressed if he was somehow predicting the future just to follow me around.”
“I still think it’ll stop happening if you go back to the cafe and take Jiseok up on the free coffee,” Donghyun shrugs, finally joining the conversation now that everyone else was up to speed.
Somehow, that one comment is enough to spark yet another round of teasing from Jaehyun, who immediately decides that Dongmin actually wants to keep running into Jiseok, and that he’s just being a massive tsundere about the whole ordeal. In Jaehyun's mind, obviously the entire reason why Dongmin hadn’t followed through on the offer yet is because he’s in love with Jiseok and is afraid he'll never see him again once the supposed ‘debt’ had been repaid, or whatever.
The interrogation ends when Sungho inevitably reaches his limit of listening to Dongmin lose a four-against-one battle, putting on his ‘responsible eldest’ voice to bark out orders for help setting the table. He’s gracious enough to let Dongmin sit back and do absolutely nothing while the others handle all the heavy lifting, even sneaking the best cuts of meat onto Dongmin’s plate while they eat.
⋅ ─── ⋅ ஐ ⋅ ─── ⋅
Despite his friends’ teasing fading from conversation as fast as it came, it somehow manages to linger in the back of Dongmin’s mind, following him home from dinner and persisting long into the night. It’s three in the morning and Dongmin finds himself wide awake, staring into the dark void of his ceiling – his mind snags on the thought that if he were at Donghyun’s place, tiny, neon-colored stars would be staring right back at him – and from there his thoughts naturally slip back to the whole… Jiseok thing.
A ‘meet-cute’, Jaehyun had called it. Dongmin rolls onto his side, the springs of his mattress groaning under the motion. He hadn’t wanted to admit it – not to the guys, but more importantly, not to himself either – but there was just something about those random encounters that had Dongmin wondering if he was subconsciously seeking Jiseok out, after all.
Maybe his friends were right. Maybe, Dongmin was scared that if he went back to the cafe, the universe would decide there wasn’t any reason to keep shoving that bleach-fried head of hair and wide grin into the peripherals of his vision. It was ridiculous, really – all Jiseok wanted was to do something nice for Dongmin because he felt bad, and here Dongmin is, denying him of that simple act out of his own selfish desire to drag things out for as long as possible. Or for being too scared to do something to keep Jiseok in his life after the fact. Or, maybe both—
Probably both.
Dongmin decides then and there that it’s about time he stopped leaving Jiseok hanging, once and for all. He’d roll over, get some sleep, and the very moment he’s awake and feeling somewhat more human, Han Dongmin will be marching down to that cafe to collect his stupid free coffee.
[ CLOSED ]
Dongmin should’ve known, really. For all the heavy lifting the universe had been doing to force him and Jiseok within each other’s proximity, it only made sense that it’d fight back at the first sign Dongmin was trying to bring an end to it.
Dongmin stands there for a long moment, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, feeling particularly foolish. He’d actually put a little bit of effort into his appearance instead of just grabbing the first oversized hoodie he found on his bedroom floor. He’d even spent the entire walk over mentally crafting the perfect, casual greeting – something like, ‘I was just in the area, thought I’d finally swing by,’ – and now he’s just left to stand around like some loser, staring at a locked door on a Sunday morning.
“Looking for someone?”
Dongmin startles, stumbling into where the pavement is stained dark – a remnant of the bottles of soda that shattered when they’d first collided. He spins around to find Jiseok standing a few feet away, devoid of his denim apron in favor of looking like a skater who’d only just rolled out of bed.
“Jiseok,” Dongmin says, slightly breathless. He clears his throat, hoping to pull himself together at least a bit. "I thought you said you were here every day."
Jiseok laughs, the sound bright within the otherwise quiet street. “I am! I mean, every day that we’re open – Tuesday through Saturday. You caught me on my day off.” He steps closer, tilting his head. “I hate to break it to you, Han Dongmin, but even I need to have weekends.”
"I know that," Dongmin says, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. "I just... I finally decided to come by."
“I can see that!” Jiseok grins, his eyes narrowing into crescents. He glances to the closed sign and then back to Dongmin, his expression softening. "You’ll have to come back some other time to redeem that free coffee. I’m a man of my word, but I’m currently off the clock."
Dongmin can’t help but feel disappointed. It’s stupid, but running into Jiseok here of all places, despite the fact that he’s not even supposed to be working that day… Part of Dongmin hoped that maybe Jiseok would pull out a set of keys to the cafe and invite him inside regardless. Like a scene from one of those romance movies he and Jaehyun secretly like to indulge in together.
“I was starting to think you were ghosting me,” Jiseok teases, shoving his hands into the pockets of his baggy cargo shorts. He rocks back on his heels, looking up at Dongmin with bright eyes. “In fact, I was starting to wonder if the universe would stop forcing us to meet like this the moment you actually came by.”
Dongmin blinks, feeling a jolt of recognition. “That’s funny, my friends said pretty much the same thing.”
The admission had slipped past Dongmin’s lips without a second thought. Jiseok’s eyes widened slightly as he processed the words and he opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off before a single sound could escape.
“Jiseok! Hurry up, the movie starts in twenty minutes!”
Both Dongmin and Jiseok turn to follow the source of the interruption; a pair of guys standing a short distance away. The taller, cat-like one is frowning down at his phone, furiously tapping away – likely an annoyed message to whoever else might be waiting for them. The other guy, long-haired and standing with a slouch, is staring back at Dongmin and Jiseok with a single eyebrow raised.
“Is that the guy you haven’t shut up about for the past two weeks?”
“Jooyeon, I swear to god—” Jiseok groans, sending an aggressive glare his friend’s way. “Keep going without me, I’ll catch up.”
The cat-eyed guy finally looks up from his phone, considering Dongmin for barely a moment before shrugging and dragging the long-haired guy on their way.
As they disappear around the corner, a heavy silence falls between the two left behind. Dongmin turns to Jiseok, feeling like the ground was about to open up beneath them and swallow him whole. It’s one thing for his own friends to tease him for his strange interactions with Jiseok, but it's an entirely different, world-altering thing to be hit with the realization that the weight of these encounters goes both ways.
In a perfect contrast to Dongmin’s embarrassment, Jiseok looks almost… ecstatic. He’s practically sparkling, a wide smile taking up half his face.
The absurdity of the last two weeks catches up to Dongmin all at once – Jiseok’s generosity, the countless run-ins, the relentless teasing from his friends – it all culminates in this single moment of mutual exposure.
At the exact same moment, they both look up, eyes locking as the same question tumbles out of their mouths in a synchronized blur.
"You talk about me with your friends?"