Jihoon narrows his eyes at Joshua, who is raising a challenging brow at the smaller boy.

            “You do know what this means, right? What you’re asking me to do?”

            Joshua rolls his eyes, pushing off the counter of the café. He grabs a rag from underneath the counter, absently starting to wipe at the counter. “It’s not that big of a deal, Jihoon.”

            Jihoon looks tense, and his voice is stiff and high. “It’s a big deal to me!”

            “I didn’t mean it to make you sound dumb, okay? So calm down a little. Second,” Joshua glances at Jihoon out of the corner of his eyes, “it’s literally not a big deal whatsoever.”

            Jihoon his lips, letting his guard fall, a nervous expression crossing over his face. “I’ve never stayed over at a guy’s place before.”

            Joshua shrugs, feeling his cheeks go pink as he avidly avoids Jihoon’s eyes. “Well, I don’t usually invite people to stay the night at my place.” He frowns, suddenly remembering. “Other than Seungkwan that one time when he was rebelling against society and he lived with me for like a week, but he was never home during that time anyway.” His eyes slide over to Jihoon, who looks mildly interested. “But that’s a story for another time.” He wipes at the same spot he just went over. “So what do you say?”

            Jihoon has pink cheeks. “I mean, you’re right, of course. It would give us a lot more time to practice our song for the talent show on Saturday.” He eyes him apprehensively. “Are you sure you want me to stay until then? That’s, like, three days away.”

            “I don’t mind. The compnay would be nice. You get lonely, you know,” Joshua gestures to Jihoon's elbow, "being mateless and all."

            Jihoon grins suddenly, his eyes brightening as they crinkle at the corner. His smile is just a tad bit crooked. “Well then I’ll stay.”

            Joshua feels a calm wash over him. Jihoon rejecting his idea would have been really embarrassing. “Great!” piped Joshua, “So you can just wait around until I’m done, we’ll grab a quick bite to eat, then we’ll head over to your place to grab some stuff and we can start heading to my apartment. That sound good?”

            “Um,” Jihoon blinks, “no, I want you to cook for me.”

            “What?”

            “You don’t think I forgot that breakfast? That was amazing.”

            “I learned that recipe from Mingyu, I can’t cook all that well on my own.” At Jihoon’s look of surprise, Joshua elaborates. “Mingyu’s a lousy baker, amazing cook. I, therefore, am the opposite.”

            Jihoon furrows his brow for a bit, but then his smile is back, too wide and big, all teeth. “But hyung,” his grin is sugary sweet, the word hyung dripping from his mouth like honey, “I’m the guest, so shouldn’t you really be doing anything to accommodate me?”

            Joshua throws the rag towards Jihoon, who catches it easily. He mutters underneath his breath, “Brat.”

            And he doesn’t notice that everyone – sans Seungkwan, who is taking two weeks off due it being his eighteenth birthday as is usual for eighteen year olds to do – is watching them with their faces pressed against the glass window that leads toward the shop.

            Soonyoung snickers, fogging up the mirror. “I bet you anything that they hook up by the talent show.”

            Mingyu, who is bent down behind all of them due to his height, snorts. “Bet you a months worth that they hook up the day of the talent show and not a minute sooner.”

            Soonyoung turns to Mingyu, his eyes bright and mischievous. “You’re on.”

            Wonwoo makes a noise of distaste at their antics while Seokmin just laughs. At Wonwoo’s little scoff, Mingyu glances down at the older boy. He hasn’t noticed, but his hand is resting on Wonwoo’s back, his fingers slightly curled around the back of Wonwoo’s neck.

            Then, as if suddenly realizing, a jolt of electricity burns at the tips of Mingyu’s fingers.

            His eyes go soft, and he places a small amount of pressure to Wonwoo’s neck – a silent question. 

            Wonwoo’s face heats up, and then he’s stuttering something about how he has to take food out of the oven, pushing past Mingyu quickly. Mingyu stands rooted to the spot, his face frozen. And then, with a tight jaw and clenched fists, he storms out to the front.

            Soonyoung whispers to Seokmin, “How long do you think they’ll last?”

            “At the rate they’re going? I’d say sometime when I’m rolling over in my grave.”

            Soonyoung glances at his two workers. “You know what,” he says, “I may take you up on that bet.”