♝

He’d only been in town for about an hour, but he was already almost asleep. Kim Jongin yawned, resting his head on his arm and his arms on the table; he was the half dead lump in the sweetshop, but also the only sign of life in the room.

Somewhere in the back, his old friend was putting cake in an oven, and all he could hear was the clanking of baking tools and the soft guzzling of the rain outside.

While the guest tried to catch up on some sleep after the jet-lagging flight he’d gotten off not too long ago, Luhan walked out of the kitchen, humming something cheerful.

It was June, still the first week of summer, and Jongin was lucky enough that on the only vacation he’d get all year, his childhood friend gave him a call with a delightful invitation to spend the two-month holiday in his town. The town was small – so small, that it resembled a rest-stop, just a speck in the road to bigger cities. Jongin had no idea how Luhan had known that this summer, he had no plans and no agenda, and that he’d be bored out of his mind for sure, unless he was given the opportunity – which Luhan had made sure to give him – to have a small adventure.

By some force of nature, Luhan could read people like billboards.

Smiling, he presented Jongin with a cupcake the size of a coconut, to which he mumbled a thank you and the employee chuckled.

The shop doors jingled and someone shuffled in, closing an umbrella and stomping the excess water off his shoes. Jongin looked up at him – the first human he’d seen so far, other than Luhan.

“Hey, Kyungsoo.” Luhan called.

The guy nodded. “Hi.”

“Aren’t you late for cram school?”

Kyungsoo nodded again, while saying, “I still have some time. Can I get the usual?”

Jongin watched him, furrowing his eyebrows and mimicking the guy’s nod, while whispering ‘No’ to himself, to see how he could agree and deny it at the same time.

“Sure, just hold on a minute,” Luhan said, disappearing back into the kitchen. Kyungsoo bobbed his head and waited, silently rocking himself on the balls of his feet.

Jongin didn’t take his eyes off the customer for a second. He was short, shorter than Luhan, from the looks of it. His hair was messed up from the wind, little sprinkles of rain dissolving into his scalp. His eyes were wide open and unsuspecting, innocent and curious and simple. The dark coat he wore reached his calves, and there was a grey messenger bag slung around his torso. His hands were in his pockets.

“Are you on your way to someplace?” Jongin asked, popping his chin on his outstretched arm.

The guy noticed him and nodded. “Extra college classes.” His voice was deep and slightly hoarse, but it matched his face well.

“What do you major in?”

“Marine Biology.”

Jongin mhmm-ed. “That’s pretty cool. I know a thing or two about that.”

And he did. Year-round, three hundred sixty-five days, he worked in Costa Rica as a pro scuba diving instructor. Except for this year, of course. The customer didn’t seem interested.

“Good for you.”

Breaking the moment of silence, Luhan came back frowning. “Sorry, Soo, but it looks like Yixing hasn’t baked a fresh batch yet.”

“Oh,” Kyungsoo looked disappointed. He stopped swaying on his feet. “That’s okay, I guess.”

“What’s your usual?” Jongin found himself asking.

“A giant M&M cookie, most of the time.” Luhan answered for him.

Kyungsoo just nodded, like – Jongin noted – he’d been doing quite a lot. Even at points where one would shake their head, the guy in the dark coat would bob his head. He took a hand out of his pocket and rubbed his temple. He looked tired, but Jongin decided it made him look cute.

“I have a cupcake, if you want it,” the guest offered. “It’s got M&Ms on it, too.”

The customer looked taken aback, suspicion blinked over his owl-like eyes. Jongin laughed and held up his treat.

“You can pay me back for it later,” Jongin assured him. “It’ll give me an excuse to get your number.”

At that, even Luhan blushed behind the counter, and slowly excused himself back into the kitchen, while Kyungsoo gulped and nodded slowly. A scarlet shade tinted his cold, rain-wet cheeks. He took the cupcake hesitantly, and turned around to leave.

With his sleepy head still down, Jongin smiled and watched Kyungsoo open his umbrella by the door.

“So we’ll meet again, then?” He called out to the leaving customer.

Stepping out, Kyungsoo turned his head, and with a nod of his head and no real expression on his face, he let the door swing shut behind him as he disappeared into the rain.

And Jongin – who a second ago, was exhausted – laughed to himself and asked Luhan for another cupcake.

♝

♛

The rain was despicable, and with every part of him that mattered, Park Chanyeol loved it.

He was looking at everything – anything that was and anything that wasn’t – for a sliver of inspiration to make a melody in his mind and maybe, if he was lucky, a lyric, and if he was luckier, a song. But all he saw in the deep grey sky was the small shards of sharp water drops and his reflection in every puddle he passed.

Did he really look that miserable? His lifeless face looked up at him from the rippling sheet of water on the pavement, and he couldn’t help but frown.

March, April, May, even now, the start of June, he spent every rainy day letting himself be soaked and frozen. He pursued the numbness and the cold reminders that his existence was limited, and for whatever reason, he found that that was the only thing that gave him the drive for innovation.

In the dark puddle, he looked at his red eyes, his dark brown hair, his feverish skin, and he blinked. He opened his mouth, and out of annoyance or maybe just boredom, he shouted a tactless, “BLAH.”

As if the rain would answer him, he waited.

And with a sigh, he lifted his head, because looking at the ground for a sign of some sort wasn’t helping him at all.

“Well, if it isn’t Park Chanyoda.”

His gaze fell on a guy walking out of the shop in front of him – out of the pet shop – with a fluffy Yorkshire terrier on leash and a smile on his face that could have melted away the clouds and evaporated the rain. Chanyeol found himself smiling back at him.

“Oh, Byun. I see you’re still Baekhyumorless.”

The guy laughed. It had been almost six years since they’d last seen each other, but there was no formality, no real over-familiarity, and no need to reminisce at all.

By comparison, their successes were obvious in the way they carried themselves in the downpour. While Baekhyun wore dress shoes and a blazer over his sweater, Chanyeol wore an old hoodie and a beanie. While Baekhyun looked almost warm, dry under his umbrella and at peace, Chanyeol was mostly soaked. He had an umbrella too, but he’d been swinging it around at his sides, letting the shower hit him straight-on.