It starts in the middle of Youngjae's shift one Wednesday afternoon.

Youngjae is a good employee, he doesn't cause problems with staff or customers and can competently follow instructions. There's nothing wrong with him at all. People seem to like him, if that's anything to go by. And he hardly gets any rude customers people on the internet seem to like talking about, so he considers his job in the coffee industry as not so bad. Well, until that Wednesday.

He's halfway to check-out time, halfway to going home and taking a nap before he starts on his assignments. Halfway there, and probably a few hundred more orders of coffee to go.

A boy, well young man technically, with a shocking head of pink that strangely looks fitting and kind of pretty like his neighbor's rose bushes walks up to the counter with phone in hand, and Youngjae nearly trips over his greetings.

“Can I have a chocolate chip frappuccino, please?” The pink haired customer asks, and Youngjae is quick to punch in the order, grabbing an empty cup from the side.

“May I have your name?” He asks, grabbing a sharpie and popping the cap off, poised to write.

“Yugyeom,” the customer says, looking briefly at his phone before handing a credit card over to him. Youngjae sets it down on the counter while carefully writing “Yugyeom” on the side of the cup, aware of the mixed reactions people always had if their names were spelled incorrectly. He places it to the side to attend to after he swipes the card, prompting the pink haired customer to sign.

It isn't until he's in the middle of blending the actual contents of the frappuccino he hears it, it's a very quiet mutter but it makes him stop in his tracks all the same.

“So slow,” is what he hears, and when he turns to the waiting area it's only the fair haired customer from earlier. Youngjae usually isn't one to jump to conclusions, but if the shoe fits...The young man looks irritated, checking his phone, probably looking at the time, and blowing his bangs out of his face. A picture definition of the word impatient. And normally Youngjae doesn't let these things bother him, but just for this moment screw Starbucks and their customer service policy.

He discreetly changes “Yugyeom” to “Byugyeom” on the customer's drink before filling it with frappuccino goodness. He figures most people don't even look at the name on the cups 85% of the time, and the guy looks so irritated at the moment Youngjae doubts he'd notice. So he chalks it up as a little stolen victory, pushing the finished drink to the fair haired boy with a smile.

Youngjae almost feels bad when the boy flashes a small grin, the irritation still peeking out a little, when he picks up the drink, quickly turning to the exit almost immediately after. Oh well, the chances of seeing him again are fairly small, therefore the amount of guilt Youngjae should feel is fairly small.

Bye bye, Byugyeom.

The next time Youngjae sees the young man with the pink hair again, he's genuinely shocked they crossed paths again. He barely remembers the first time he took the kid's order, much less how much time has passed since then. Though, he does notice the pink is a shade lighter, almost glowing under the lights of the store. He shakes his head, shaking off the silly thoughts, it was only a matter of time if the guy frequented the Starbucks like most of the other customers here. With his best I'm-a-good-employee smile, he prepares to take the pink haired customer's order.

Right, his name was Yugyeom. He begins to write the name down, vaguely recalling the little joke he played on his customer. If he didn't notice then, Youngjae wonders if he could get away with it a second time. (Don't get him wrong, he leads a life that gives him plenty of satisfaction and this isn't something he would even call the highlight of his day. Basically, he doesn't gain immense pleasure from this, but it's his life and he really shouldn't need to reason with himself.)

Across the counter Yugyeom gives him a weird look, but Youngjae covers it up with a clear of the throat, quickly scribbling “Yujeom” on the cup before setting it aside to take the credit card handed to him.

At least he looks happier now, taking the drink from Youngjae's hand with a grin and walking off, not a second glance to the name once again.

Ah no, Youngjae, no. Don't start making this a game, he tells himself, it's not too late to stop. Only it is when he has to excuse himself to the break room for a few minutes to get all the giggles out. Maybe once more wouldn't hurt, and then he swears he won't misspell the poor guy's name anymore.

There was a saying Jackson hyung taught him, “third time's the charm,” and Youngjae can't provide any context for why his hyung's loud voice is ringing in his head except that this is the third time he sees Yugyeom during his shift. The last time was Friday morning, and this time is a Tuesday afternoon. He can't recall when the first time was, but at least he remembers Yugyeom's name. Not that it's supposed to mean much, Youngjae would've recognized that pink hair anyway.

“Hello, what can I get you?” He asks pleasantly. Youngjae runs different variations of how he can misspell the customer's name in his head as he punches in an order for yet another chocolate related frappuccino. He's beginning to think this Yugyeom really liked chocolate.

He settles on “Sogyum” for this visit, grinning at his handiwork before he sets it behind the register so Yugyeom can't see it and so his coworker won't take the order. No, the pink haired young man has become his special customer, and Youngjae has to make the drink himself. And he doesn't really want to get caught for butchering a customers name, despite being fully confident he could get away with it. (A “it was an accident” here and a “it won't happen again” there and problem solved. Innocent wasn't Youngjae's thing, but oblivious was.)

“It'll be ready in a few minutes, please wait over there,” Youngjae repeats for the hundredth time that day, gesturing towards the pick up area he doubts no customer wouldn't see. Yugyeom smiles and walks over, not suspecting a thing. Youngjae taps his coworker for the day, an older guy by the name of Jaebum, to take over the register while he worked on the frappuccino, and the rest of whatever latte Jaebum was in the middle of.

Youngjae calls out a chocolate chip frappuccino when he's done, instead of the name of the customer. It defeats the point of asking for names, but he really couldn't ruin the surprise for Yugyeom—if he even notices. It's more of a personal thing than anything at this point.

He watches Yugyeom reach for the drink, hands closing over the name scribbled there. He says thank you, smiling at Youngjae before he takes a sip, still hovering by the waiting area. Youngjae returns the gesture, turning back to the line of cups Jaebum's managed to set up in the span of him making two drinks. He's about to knock out half the orders for iced americanos when he hears someone say excuse me.

So naturally he turns around, ready to help whichever poor customer that can't figure out where the straws are.

Who he isn't expecting is Yugyeom, staring at him with a calm expression on his face. Oh no he saw, Youngjae thinks nervously behind his customer friendly smile. This is it, he's going to turn into a customer from hell.

“Excuse me,” Yugyeom says, he leans forward and it looks like he's squinting at something. Something on his person? Youngjae can't really tell, but Yugyeom's trying real hard to see whatever it is he's looking at. “The frappuccino's great, thank you, Choi Yangchae ssi!” He finally says when he leans back, flashing the barista a bright smile before waving goodbye. The head of pink disappears through the doors before Youngjae realizes what's happened.

Wait, Yangchae?

Later on when he's changing out of his uniform he realizes it was his nametag that Yugyeom was staring at, a piece of plastic with his name plainly written in block letters. And no matter how hard he tries, squinting to the extreme, holding it under the light, he can't figure out how anyone would read “Youngjae” as “Yangchae.” Maybe it's just him, he thinks, shrugging it off.

But it doesn't really hit him until he's in front of his apartment door that Yugyeom was messing with him. So that had to mean his special customer realized all the butchering of his name—screw ceasing fire! It was so on now, he started it so he righteously deserves the last laugh!

The fourth time Youngjae sees Yugyeom enter the store again, he already has a cup with a name on it before Yugyeom even gets to the counter. The fair haired young man sends him a questioning look at Youngjae, who cuts him off before he can order.

“Chocolate chip again?” He asks, feeling rather confident in himself.

“Should I be flattered you know my order, or is this a thing all Starbucks employees do?” Yugyeom answers back with a laugh, sounding much younger than he looks.

“Our company prides itself on customer service,” Youngjae replies as-a-matter-of-factly, putting down the order on the computer before adding, “plus this is like what, your third time coming in this week?”

“Pretty sure customer service doesn't include recording how many times a person comes into the store,” the customer says, opening his wallet to fish out his credit card while Youngjae laughs and nearly punch the button for a peppermint mocha.

“It's not hard when their hair is pink,” Youngjae says, taking the credit card with a smirk on his face. “Pretty hard to miss.”

“I suppose I'll let you have that one,” Yugyeom shrugs, taking back his card and scribbling his signature on the touchpad. “The attention's not all that bad, sometimes.” Youngjae looks up in time to see Yugyeom giving him something that looked liked a once-over, from the waist up anyway. It only makes him roll his eyes and direct him to the waiting area with grin on his face. He knew deep down there was a reason he kept up with his little prank.

“Yumgyeom” is the name for today; he's tempted to add a little heart to the end now that he's been discovered, but decides against it. That was definitely playing with fire.

He goes to fill the blender with milk and bits of cookie when he notices a man, maybe a little older than himself walk up to his pink haired customer and throw an arm around his shoulders. “You're early for once, hyung,” he hears Yugyeom say. He wonders if he'd call him hyung. Whoa, whoa that's skipping the fire and jumping straight into a volcano. Youngjae has to take a moment to get his thoughts in order before capping the frappuccino,

“Chocolate chip fappuccino,” he calls out, matching the grin on Yugyeom's face when he moves closer to pick it up.

“Thank you, Seongjae ssi,” Yugyeom says, punching a dent in Youngjae's ego. Ah, so this is how it feels to be on the receiving end. He feels his soul crumble a little inside as he strains to keep the smile on his face, watching Yugyeom and his friend leave. Before that though, he catches the friend's eyes, a knowing expression on his face. It leaves Youngjae confused, but like most of the strange things that happen in his life, he brushes it off. Maybe it'll make an interesting story later on in his life.

Through the store's giant windows he can still see the color pink, where Yugyeom's shoving his friend away as they wait for the light to change. Cute, he thinks before he busies himself with a cafe latte.

The fifth, sixth, seventh, and so on time Yugyeom came into the store when Youngjae happened to be working was no less exciting as it had been when the game suddenly became less one sided. It was fun thinking of ways to terribly mess up Yugyeom's name, and after a few more visits Yugyeom stayed long enough for Youngjae to catch his reactions. Mostly good, mostly Yugyeom shooting him dirty looks, sometimes his friend would be there and try to sneak a peek. It was also interesting to hear Yugyeom's retaliation, sometimes getting so far from his name Youngjae was surprised he even came up with it.

Yoongyum, Yokyum, Yagyeom, Sugyan, Yangyum, whatever vowels and consonants he could mush together. In return he's been called Yongdae, Soonjae, Youngbae, Geongseo, Myoungchae, and whatever vowels and consonants Yugyeom could much together. He's lost count of how many names were born into this Starbucks, surprised he can still remember his own name. And eventually whoever he was working with, it was mostly Jaebum because that workaholic worked almost every day, caught on and would switch places with Youngjae if “the pink kid” showed up.

“And here I thought only kids made fun of the person they liked,” Jaebum says to him one day after “Gyeomyo” leaves, bidding “Yeongae” goodbye.

“What?” Youngjae nearly gives himself whiplash with the speed he moves his head to stare at his senior.

“Just saying, if you wanted to ask someone out, a coffee shop's never a bad idea.” And with that, Jaebum just dropped the conversation and went back to register duty. That left Youngjae with thoughts he didn't know whether he wanted or not and an overflowing cup of coffee.

The next few days Yugyeom—Youngjae finally decided he wasn't dubbed his special customer anymore after their sixth exchange—doesn't show up, and Youngjae is a little thankful. He smiles wryly to himself, lost in his own thoughts while he mechanically pours cup after cup of iced americanos. (People didn't have much variety in what they ordered.) His situation seemed a little cliché, like one of those romantic comedies his ex-girlfriends would drag him to. When he suddenly realizes his feelings thanks to a helpful friend or companion, the subject of his affections would disappear, bringing life to that “absence makes the heart grow fonder” nonsense and when they reappeared he would profess his love. That sounded about right, but no way is Youngjae's life a romcom.

Jaebum's not even that helpful.

But, it is a little disappointing Yugyeom hasn't come in for the past few days. The weather's been pretty crap lately too, nothing but clouds and cold winds, with the occasional rain showers. He sighs behind the counter, for once there isn't a line of people waiting to be served. Guess the weather did keep some people at bay, which unfortunately included a young man with pink hair a certain barista had grown fond of over the course of their little game.

He stares out into the streets, into the mass of dark colored umbrellas and grey skies. He wonders if he really does have a thing for Yugyeom like Jaebum implied. He barely knew the guy, he didn't know anything about him except his order and first name. But...Youngjae did know Yugyeom had a witty sense of humor from their brief over the counter chats, and he liked to laugh a lot. It lit up his face, making him look younger, all bright smiles and sunshine, and well, Youngjae couldn't help thinking it was cute. Yugyeom was cute. He wouldn't mind crushing on someone like Yugyeom.

Huh.

Youngjae straightens up behind the counter, blinking at nothing in particular, letting his sudden epiphany sink in. He really wouldn't mind a crush, as long as it was Yugyeom. That was so easy. The idea makes him feel lightheaded, and suddenly he can't control his face because he's smiling and laughing to himself. He covers it up with a cough when Jaebum sends him a look from the other side of their work area; maybe Jaebum was a little helpful but Youngjae isn't about to give him the satisfaction of being right.

The giddy feeling lasts well past the end of his shift.

Until he's at work the next day and there's no pink hair in sight. His disappointment is obvious by the pout on his face, and he's caught Mark—he usually does the weekend shifts, but today he's here for some reason—giving him a few concerning looks. He tries not to make it obvious when he glances at the door every time it swings open, but if he wasn't so caught up in his own world he would've realized Mark's more interested in swiping oreos from the fridge.

Halfway through his work day, the skies finally get tired of his moping and sends him a pity present of sorts. Or at least that's what it feels like. Yugyeom's hyung, the friend he never caught the name of, comes in, shaking his umbrella off by the door before grabbing a plastic bag to shove it in at the doorway. He doesn't move his head to try and see if the person he's really looking for is lurking behind the newcomer, cause he's not.

Youngjae doesn't bother to switch with Mark, who's manning the register at the moment. He's just going to mind his own business and not be too disappointed the friend didn't come in with a tall pink haired boy in tow.

When Mark hands the order over to him, he nearly drops the cup in surprise. A caramel macchiato...for Yugyeom. Youngjae nearly double takes when he sees the messy scrawl; he doesn't know how common a name like Yugyeom is, but from his experience there's only been one and Youngjae's never seen the name written properly before. He takes a brief glance at the crowd at the waiting area before getting to work. Yugyeom's friend is there, leaning against the wall, typing something on his phone.

“Yugyeom ssi....?” He calls out, curious to see who placed the order. The crowd had thinned out, only a few people left and a few empty cups on the counter left to fill.

“Ah, thanks,” a voice makes his head snap forward, meeting the eyes of no one other than Yugyeom's friend himself.

“You're Yugyeom,” he can't stop himself from blurting out. Thankfully, the guy doesn't stare at him like he's gone mental, instead he cooly quirks a brow and gives him a curious look. It almost reminds him of Jaebum, but less scary.

“Yes..?”

“Oh uhm, sorry,” Youngjae apologizes when his brain catches up, feeling quite embarrassed. He scratches the back of his neck, a nervous habit, and laughs awkwardly. “It's a nice name,” he says, biting back the questioning lilt his words were taking.

This “Yugyeom” laughs, “Thanks. That's the first time I've heard that.” What's even stranger is the look on his face when he says it, like he knows something Youngjae doesn't. Though it doesn't last long, because he excuses himself to a table not far from the counter to answer a message. Really weird, and more importantly, is that guy's name really Yugyeom?

There's a lull in customers after half an hour or so, leaving Youngjae and Mark just idling around behind the counter. He's wiping down the counter while Mark wipes the machines where he's facing away from the refrigerator. (He's lucky Youngjae's not much of a snitch, and gives into cookie bribes pretty easily.) Mark's pretty close to the register so if someone does come up, he's got it covered. Which lets Youngjae take his sweet time in wiping the counter and throwing out the used cups.

“Hey,” he hears someone say.

“Hey..?” Youngjae replies when he turns to the waiting area. It's that guy, the Other Yugyeom. He's leaning against the counter, cup in one hand while the other one hold's up his head. And he's smiling at Youngjae for some reason. Youngjae's half tempted to turn around and get the impenetrable wall that is Mark to deflect all conversation, but Other Yugyeom doesn't seem that threatening.

“You make a pretty good caramel macchiato,” he says, swirling the cup around a bit on top of the freshly cleaned counter.

“Thanks, it's kind of my job to do that,” Youngjae answers, not sure how to take this conversation, or why Other Yugyeom is even talking to him.

“But I don't suppose there's another drink you're good at making?” Youngjae only gives the other man a confused look. “Like, a frappuccino maybe?”

That certainly gets a reaction out of him, Youngjae coughs into his hand and avoids meeting Other Yugyeom's eyes. Well as Yugyeom's—does he even know which person is actually Yugyeom at this point—friend, he would know his order.

It's when he hears the other man laugh he looks up, willing away the color on his cheeks. “I'm Park Jinyoung, Yugyeom's hyung,” the Other Yugyeom, now Jinyoung, says, offering his hand. “But I'm sure you figured one of those things out already.”

A quick glance to see how Mark's doing, he then turns back to take Jinyoung's outstretched hand. “I'm Youngjae. And yeah, I've seen you come in with him a few times.”

Jinyoung grins at that, reminding Youngjae a bit of the Cheshire Cat. Different from the chimpunk like smile he got from Yugyeom.

“Though I was disappointed I didn't get a cute message on my cup,” he pouts, staring down at the scribble on his cup. “I even went through the trouble of lying about my identity.”

“You're not Yugyeom,” Youngjae suddenly blurts out. It was the obvious answer, but he didn't mean to be so forward with it. And apparently loud, when he gets a few looks from over Jinyoung's shoulder. “Sorry,” he murmurs, when Jinyoung quirks a brow at him.

“It's alright,” he waves it off. “I expected as much. You two have a weird...thing going on.”

“Yeah, I guess we do. Uh, do you know where he's...he hasn't been coming...” He trails off, having gotten the general message out there. Youngjae says he doesn't want to be too forward, but really he's just shy. (Especially about his newly discovered crush or sorts.)

He misses the fond smile on Jinyoung's lips before he answers, “Yugyeommie's been home sick for almost the past week. Though it didn't stop him from worrying about classes. You know I had to hold his bedroom door shut to keep him from getting up and going to class when he was running a 38.8°C fever? That kid.” Jinyoung ends it there, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath.

Oh. He's sick. Like actually sick and not sick of him, Youngjae thinks, letting out a sigh of relief. But that , so he says it like it is.

“That , I hope he feels better,” a pause. “Wait, he has class?”

Jinyoung constantly has an amused expression on his face, and his grin only gets bigger when he hears Youngjae's question. “Yeah, he's still in university, how old did you think he was?”

“Oh my god,” he wails, hiding his face in his hands, “I've been making fun of my junior and I didn't even know it.” He feels a hand pat his arm, and it almost makes him feel better. Until he remembers Youngjae was basically bullying Yugyeom.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don't think he cares. He does it to me all the time and I've got three years on him,” Jinyoung says reassuringly.

“I still feel terrible, but thanks,” Youngjae laments, thumbing off a few droplets of foam that Mark missed. “And he's sick! That's the worst.”

“Well...you could tell him to get well soon? Say something nice and raise that good karma back up,” Jinyoung suggests. Youngjae just responds with an intelligent “huh.”

“Here,” Jinyoung scribbles a few numbers on a cup sleeve he grabs from the stack on the counter, sliding it towards the dumbfounded Youngjae. “I'm sure he won't mind hearing from his favorite barista.”

He winks when he walks out, reminding Youngjae one last time to call the number. Youngjae really doesn't want to, he knows he's going to embarrass himself. Not to mention, he's going to come off super creepy. But he pockets the cup sleeve anyway, hand absentmindedly feeling for it throughout his shift to make sure it was still there.

He ends up calling, hours after he gets off work.

His finger hovered over the call button, unsure if he should really do it. Youngjae's back in his apartment, barely getting on the bus before the evening rush hour began, and picking out some take out before getting back. It wasn't to stall, but as much as he tells himself that, he knows he couldn't stop thinking about all the ways the phone call could go horribly wrong.

By the time Youngjae's psyched himself up to make the call, the phone's already ringing. He pressed the key by accident while he was reassuring that Yugyeom won't hang up immediately and call the cops, which also triggers a small panic attack. Youngjae scrambles to put the phone to his ear before the other line picks up, biting his lip nervously.

He goes into the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water, not having been this nervous since his job interview for the job that landed him a meeting with Yugyeom.

“H..hello?” A rough, scratchy voice comes through the receiver. Jinyoung had mentioned Yugyeom was feeling under the weather, but Youngjae didn't expect him to practically sound like death. He mentally hopes Yugyeom can't read minds because it would really if he heard that and Youngjae really didn't want to ruin any chances he may or may not have. (Yugyeom has a very nice voice, it just didn't sound particularly nice when he picked up the phone, that's all.)

“Hello, Yugyeom?” He tentatively asks.

There's a cough on the other side before the scratchy voice replies. “Yes? May I,” another cough, “ask who this is?”

“Uh,” Youngjae starts to fidget with a loose thread on his sweater, unsure of how to answer. “It's Youngjae. From uh, Starbucks!” He ends up coughing, trying to cover up how high his voice went just now and hopes Yugyeom didn't catch that. It was already embarrassing enough that he was calling, heck his life was already embarrassing. He doesn't really get it, he's fine when he's talking to Yugyeom at the store, but on the phone he's a mess. It doesn't make a lot of sense to him. And feelings surely have nothing to do with it, either.

There's silence and Youngjae's not wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He's about to apologize for calling and hang up and maybe look for a new job when Yugyeom replies.

“Oh, hello,” He says, his voice coming out a little smoother than before. “Sorry, I had to turn the stove off.” He's interrupted by coughing ever other word, causing worry to bubble up in Youngjae's chest. “Is there something you need..?”

“Oh, no I just uh, I noticed you haven't come by for a few days and well, your friend, uh, Park Jinyoung?” Youngjae pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “He, well, came by and gave me your number. Said you weren't feeling well and um.”

There's some rustling on the other side and a faint “ugh, that hyung,” before it gets quiet again. Youngjae isn't sure if he should keep talking or not.

“I just wanted to—”

“Yeah, I—”

They both speak at the same time, though Youngjae's pretty sure it was mostly his voice that could be heard. People have told him on multiple occasions he didn't have much of a volume control. It's not his fault, though.

They both laugh, though Yugyeom's is a little quieter and dissolves into coughs not long after.

“Sorry, you can go first,” he says, lowering his voice some so it almost matches Yugyeom's whispery voice.

“How kind of you,” Yugyeom laughs into the phone, “I caught a bad cold the start of the week. Fevers and throwing up, ugh it wasn't pretty.” And even though it's not him, Youngjae has to wince, that sounded like a nightmare.

“Sorry, are you feeling better now, though?” He asks, because he does care! That was the whole point of calling anyway...

“Sort of, just this cough and all the other awful symptoms of a cold.” Youngjae can tell Yugyeom's holding the phone away from his face now, the coughing sounds more distant and muffled than before. Poor guy, he wishes he could send him some medicine or something. (Not the most romantic, but romance is not the answer right at the moment.)

“Ah, I hope you feel better soon then,” He says with sincerity, quickly adding, “Work hasn't really been that exciting lately.”

“No other poor customers for you to make fun of? I can't imagine the boredom you have to face every day,” Yugyeom says. Despite being sick and bedridden for the past week, he still manages to snark at Youngjae. It brings a smile to his face.

“Nope, you're the only one.”

“I,” a sneeze, “excuse me, feel so special.”

“You should, you're the only one with my attention.”

Then, silence. There's nothing but the sound of their breathing and anxiety is crawling up Youngjae's body. He hopes he didn't cross any lines, oh god he just messed up their non existent relationship. He can never go to work again, he has to move, he—

“Well I hope you don't use that line very often,” Yugyeom says, his voice washing away all the worry Youngjae was feeling. Was this what having a crush is like? This roller coaster of emotions? It's been several years, he thought he outgrew the ride already.

“No, just you,” He answers back, a smile spreading on his face. He hopes on the other side Yugyeom is smiling too, despite being death incarnate and all that.

“Good.” And then Youngjae's heart swelled three times in size. Call it context clues, reading between the lines, whatever it is, Youngjae didn't think a single word would have that much of an effect on him. Good, he thinks. Good.

“Ah, Youngjae—”

“Hyung,” he cuts Yugyeom off.

“What?”

“Hyung, Youngjae hyung,” he corrects. There's a moment of silence before Yugyeom starts speaking again.

“Mhm, Youngjae hyung,” he says, and Youngjae figures it sounds pretty good coming from Yugyeom. He could get used to this. “I don't mean to be rude, but I took some medicine right before you called and I'm getting really drowsy...”

“Oh. Oh! No, that's totally fine,” He says, waving his hand in front of him like he was there and Yugyeom could see him, “You need your rest, and your health is way more important than a phone call.”

There's a sleepy hum from the other end and more rustling, Yugyeom was probably getting into bed or something.

“Listen, you have my number now,” he says. Youngjae's really going to do it, he's going to go for it when Yugyeom is half asleep and maybe not in his right mind, but no time like the present. “So maybe when you feel better, call me? Or message me. We can get lunch or dinner or something. If you want to, that is.”

As soon as he gets it out, every second that passes by starts to feel like an eternity.

“That sounds nice,” Yugyeom breathes out. His words are starting to slur and Youngjae resists the urge to “aw” through the phone. “I'd like that.”

“Really? I mean, that's great,” Youngjae exclaims, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He holds a hand over his beating heart and laughs into the phone, feeling all kinds of happy and relieved.

“Anyone ever tell you you're kind of loud?”

“More than you know, actually,” He grins, maybe he did have something going when he referred to Yugyeom as special. “I'll let you get some sleep now. Sleep well and fell better soon!”

“Mhm...thanks for calling, hyung.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I'll talk to you some other time.”

“See you around, Yugyeom.”

And then Youngjae throws himself onto his couch head first, not caring where his phone landed in favor of screaming into one of the decorative cushions his mother bought for him. He feels like he's sixteen again, all the weird tingly feelings of a crush.

He suddenly gets up, feeling around the floor for his phone to pull up a list of popular restaurants with a grin on his face. Youngjae wonders how Yugyeom feels about Thai food.

and eventually youngjae figures out yugyeom wasn't calling him slow that one time and he was talking about jinyoung oops
yugyeom just laments that it's because of jinyoung of all people he has a boyfriend now why him he doesn't need that over his head
the end

i feel bad it took like two months for me to update this...........i swear it wasn't my intention.....but i don't really have anything to say about it other than i had an idea and i Tried (keyword tried) and really i hope it's........decent.......................

thanks to everyone that subscribed though! #yugjae5ever right