and you;
you've got the sunlight in your heart and soul.
could you melt me if i hold you close.
scott moffatt - melt me

Myungsoo first notices him at the start of his second week at work. It's kind of hard not to; the day's been dull thanks to the rain that pours since morning, and the world outside the coffee shop is in a shade of grey until he spots him, standing in front of the train station across the street with a glaringly bright yellow hoodie, like a refreshing speck of color in a supposedly monochrome painting.

Myungsoo stares curiously as the boy starts twirling the umbrella he's holding (a vinyl one with dots all over it, though Myungsoo can't tell the color), and stops almost instantly afterward as it seems like his twirling has sent droplets of water flying to people walking around him. He now bows profusely and Myungsoo can't help the smile that starts spreading across his face.

It seems like he's not the only one who enjoys the scene, though. A group of high school girls on the seats next to the window seem to have taken notice too, judging by the way they are giggling and pointing at the boy's direction and giggling amongst themselves again.

Myungsoo shrugs and goes back to the espresso machine, ready to tend to upcoming orders.

By the time he glances out the window again, the boy is already gone.

-

A few weeks passed and Myungsoo is used to seeing the boy by now, has picked up on a pattern of his show-ups and bits of habits, even.

He comes to the station twice a week; on Friday afternoons and Sunday evenings. He wears hoodies when it as much as drizzles outside (the hood is always pulled over his head when it pours hard), and pretty much everything else on brighter days (but mostly simple tees and shorts with matching colors).

He loves music, it seems, because Myungsoo never finds him without earphones dangling from his ears. And maybe he likes to dance too, because sometimes Myungsoo catches him trying some steps to rhythm that only he knows, looking half embarrassed half smug, like he knows he's doing something he probably shouldn't but just can't stop anyway; Myungsoo inwardly chuckles when it happens.

He always has an umbrella with him, the see-through kind like one he had when Myungsoo first saw him, and Myungsoo can't help but think that it just fits -- he can't imagine the boy with, say, a boring, plain black umbrella like the one he owns. The vinyl umbrella is put to use when it's raining, and stays neatly folded when it's not, rested against the wooden pillar where they boy also likes to lean on while waiting.

And he always waits -- on Fridays. It took Myungsoo only a week to see who he's always waiting for: another guy that looks slightly older than him, visibly shorter but with more muscles, his black hair spiked up and there's always that look on his face that oozes arrogance. Myungsoo frowned when he first saw him, wondering how a seemingly uptight person can be related to the boy who, given all his assumptions were true, is nothing but a walking summer -- forever bright and joyous.

He tells himself it's none of his business, but can't help thinking of it most of the time anyway.

-

It's a Friday afternoon, past the hour when the boy usually shows up but he's nowhere in sight. Myungsoo frowns.

"Missing something, Myungsoo?" a voice asks behind him and he practically jumps. He turns around and finds Sunggyu, leaning against the counter, arms folded across his chest. Myungsoo doesn't like the way his lips twitch slightly upward, and how he looks at Myungsoo like he knows something.

Myungsoo shrugs, says, "No, nothing."

Sunggyu only seems to grin wider and he moves to get closer to Myungsoo. "Let me rephrase my question, then. Missing someone, perhaps?" he asks again, lowering his voice as Woohyun comes out of the kitchen and gives them a questioning look. Sunggyu waves a hand dismissively and Woohyun glares at him, but proceeds to the door anyway.

Myungsoo watches him through the window until he's out of sight before turning to Sunggyu again. He looks at the older, trying to figure out how much he actually knows. But Sunggyu wriggles his brows and snickers, and Myungsoo groans.

"You just have to know everything, don't you?" he growls, burying his face to his hands. Sunggyu laughs and pats his back, "Part of my job."

"It's nothing like that, though," Myungsoo says and Sunggyu arches his brow again. Myungsoo sighs, "Whatever you have in mind, it's nothing like that. He's just like a constant lately, and it feels. It feels wrong when he's not there, y'know? Hyung."

"Are you telling me that," Sunggyu asks, "or are you trying to convince yourself?"

Myungsoo shots him an annoyed look and Sunggyu laughs again before straightening up when some customers walk in, his well-practiced smile already on his face. Myungsoo rolls his eyes.

-

Sunday comes and almost ends and Myungsoo still doesn't see him. Sunggyu pats his back again, his smile seems genuinely symphatetic.

-

The boy finally shows up again -- on a Wednesday -- and Myungsoo is surprised, but happy, doesn't even fight the smile breaking on his face. It doesn't last long, though, because he's quick to notice that something isn't right.

For a start, the boy doesn't have his umbrella with him. It's sunny today, and Myungsoo will take it as he's finally sick of bringing an umbrella when he doesn't need one. But then he also seems uncharacteristically jittery today, keeps checking his watch every half a minute or so and walks around in small circles.

As it's nearing 3pm, the boy finally stops moving around and just leans to the pillar, looking up. Myungsoo is still staring at him when the boy lowers his gaze and for a frightening friction of second Myungsoo thinks their eyes meet, through window and the street and the passing vehicles. He promptly ducks his head down and tries to focus on orders he should be making. He doesn't lift his head until a couple of espressos and lattes later, doesn't want to chance getting caught staring again.

By the time he glances up again, the boy is smiling, with his arms spread wide open as if ready for a hug. Myungsoo looks, with sinking feeling on his stomach, to where the boy is looking at and finds the same guy just coming out of the station.

Myungsoo doesn't understand, can't understand, how the guy still walks slowly -- almost reluctantly, even -- when something like that, an embrace so warm, so inviting, waiting for him -- Myungsoo would run and cross the distance and drown himself in it if he could.

If only he could.

He shakes his head and is about to get his mind back to work when he sees the guy just briefly nods at the boy, barely acknowledging him, much less returning the hug and he sees how the smile falls off the boy's face -- can almost hear his heart breaking -- and damn him if that's not gonna haunt him.

More people pile out of the station and into the shop, blocking his view, and when it's finally clear again, the two of them have gone.

Myungsoo can't sleep a wink that night.

-

If Myungsoo thought he'd never see the boy ever again, well, he's wrong. The boy is there on Friday, standing on his usual spot without an umbrella even though it's raining cats and dogs, and Myungsoo is not thinking when he dashes to locker room to grab his umbrella -- his damn ugly, black umbrella -- and runs out the shop and crosses the street, still not thinking when he stops right in front of the boy and calls out a soft hey so the boy would look up at him.

But then he grabs the boy's hand and he can't help thinking just how wrong, how it's so cold -- it's not supposed to be so cold like this -- and he squeezes it with his own for a moment in a desperate attempt to make it warmer, somehow. And then he s the umbrella he's brought to the boy's hand, smiles and mouths use this, before turning around and going back to the shop without so much glancing over his shoulder.

He pleads to be let working in the kitchen for the rest of the day.

-

Days turn into weeks, autumn rolls in, and Myungsoo still hasn't bought a new umbrella. There's no need, he reasons with himself, it barely rains these days anyway.

But he knows it's not it.

He still wants his old umbrella back. It holds fond memories after all, he tries to justify.

But he knows it's not it, either.

-

Out of nowhere, the long lost umbrella comes back to him in one chilly December evening, with an order for hot chocolate and a pastry and a smile he thought he'd never see again, a smile he missed so much it hurts.

"Sorry it took me forever to get this back to you," the boy says sheepishly as he steps up to the pick-up counter. Myungsoo can barely form a coherent, "S'okay," and mutters it.  The boy smiles again before he starts walking to his seat, to the couch next to book shelves scattered against the wall. Myungsoo watches as he places his tray on the table, goes through selves, picks up one book, and settles back down on the couch.

As if sensing Myungsoo's eyes on him, the boy looks up and they lock gazes; this time, however, Myungsoo doesn't look away. He offers a smile and with a shrug goes back to making orders, still not quite believing his luck.

"Someone's happy," Sunggyu teases as he leans in closer so no one can hear. Myunggyu swats him away and says, "Oh shut up hyung!" but his lopsided grin remains.

The boy stays for a couple hours, orders a smaller cup of cocoa and another pastry, and seems to be engrossed in his reading. When it's already past eleven and he's the only one left in the shop and still shows no sign of leaving, Myungsoo walks up to him.

"Hey," he calls quietly, and the boy looks up. "Don't mean to be rude, but well, we're closing."

The boy doesn't answer immediately; instead, he tilts his head and stares past Myungsoo, through the window. Myungsoo turns to see snow has started falling lightly.

"I wonder," he starts, looks up at Myungsoo again, "Do you mind sharing an umbrella?"

There's a smile on his face, one that is quite different from the shy one he flashed Myungsoo at the counter earlier. Myungsoo doesn't know how he knows, but he has a feeling this boy knows he just won't -- can't -- say no.

He shrugs, mirrors the smile, and says, "I'll be ready in twenty minutes."

-

The walk to the bus stop starts awkwardly; silence stretches on from the moment they exit the shop -- leaving Sunggyu's knowing smile and Woohyun's teasing grin behind -- and grows as they round corner.

Myungsoo has a lot he wants to ask but he doesn't even know how, not sure if it's even okay to ask in the first place. So he opts for staying quiet, and all too soon becomes too aware of how close they are, huddled under his umbrella; he can practically feel the heat of the boy next to him.

They stride past a closing music store, and the boy slows down a little. The absence of the ever-present earphones is another thing Myungsoo has wanted to ask, but a quick glance to the other's face and he knows it's best not to.

"You know," the boy mutters slowly, "I don't even know your name. How should I call you?"

Myungsoo turns to him and blinks. He can remember Sunggyu and Woohyun called for him a handful of times this evening alone and they has been rather loud, so surely the boy would've heard? Unless. Of course.

He beams, more than willing to play along.

"Myungsoo," he says, still smiling, "Kim Myungsoo. But please. Just call me Myungsoo."

The boy grins, "Lee Sungjong. Keep it short at Sungjong, I insist," and he goes on talking to fill in the silence and answer questions Myungsoo has yet to ask.

Sungjong just graduated from high school last spring, is now taking a year off, and has just started on a cram school a couple weeks ago.

"Because I had thought of trying dancing and, y'know, being an idol. Something like that," he explains. Myungsoo can see the forced smile and he appreciates that Sungjong is telling him this even though it seems he rather not talks about it. The other wrinkles his nose and starts again, "But then I realized it's not what I really want."

"What do you really want?" Myungsoo asks.

"Teaching," Sungjong replies. "Maybe in kindergarten. I don't know, I've just always loved kids."

Myungsoo smiles, thinks that it fits him, and says as much. Sungjong chuckles and mutters a quiet thanks.

They keep walking and talking until they reach the last corner to the bus stop, and Sungjong's gloved hand suddenly shots up to Myungsoo's left arm. The latter tilts his head and raises a brow, asks, "What's wrong?"

Sungjong chews on his lip, not looking up to meet Myungsoo's eyes. "Let's. Let's just take it slow," he says after a moment.

Myungsoo is baffled. Did Sungjong just. Did he just hint on giving this -- them -- a chance, whatever this is? Only last night he was pretty convinced he'd never see Sungjong again, and now Sungjong's here, beside him, giving him hope that it won't be the last time they meet; it kind of throws him off balance, to put it mildly.

"Myungsoo?" Sungjong asks quietly, putting a stop to his train of thoughts. Myungsoo smiles, puts his own hand over Sungjong's and squeezes it tightly.

"Take your time," he says softly. "No one is rushing anything, okay?"

Sungjong finally glances up at Myungsoo again, breaking into a smile that make his eyes crinkle around the edges as he nods, and Myungsoo makes extra efforts to stop himself from pecking his cheek. But he just ruffles Sungjong's hair fondly -- and grins when it makes the other beam -- and places his arm around Sungjong's shoulder to get him walking again.

It's a good start, Myungsoo thinks. Better than he expected. And he'll make it work, the way Sungjong exactly wants it.

--

 

notes: alright, sorry to end it there. but Sungjong said he wanted to take it slow, and so i did too. this may or may not mean a sequel is coming. we'll see.