Sehun was used to seeing him twice a day during the week on his way to and from class and once a day on weekends when he went running with Jongin. He never stared because staring was rude (and too obvious; Sehun wouldn’t know what to do if Jongin were to start asking questions), but he appreciated him from afar—the boy who busked outside the neighborhood park. He sat on a low wall in front of the flowerbed and played his guitar and sang for strangers. Sehun wondered how he sounded like when he talked, because his singing voice was warm and captivating.

One of these days, he would have to come by with cash and request a song. But he kept forgetting, at least that’s what Sehun told himself. Maybe he just hadn’t worked up the courage. After a while he took to carrying change in his pocket, but then he convinced himself that he couldn’t decide on a song request. And so Sehun continued his daily routine of skirting past the flower-lined park entrance, slowing his pace imperceptibly so that he could listen a few seconds longer, darting glances out of the corner of his eyes.

The boy liked vests and button-up shirts, and when he sat on top of the garden wall only the toes of his brown oxfords brushed the pavement. What Sehun really wanted to do was stand right up close to him and see how tall he was, because he always saw him either sitting or crouched down by his guitar case. Were his shoulders that narrow or were his shirts too big? And were his hands really small and was his neck really long or were they just illusions? Most of all Sehun wanted a way or an excuse to see the boy’s face up close. He had never quite dared to looked directly at him, so he only had impressions of twinkling eyes and a button nose. Soft cloud cheeks and soft cloud hair.

One day as he and Jongin jogged past, the boy was playing a familiar song and Jongin couldn’t help but belt along for a line. At first Sehun was embarrassed by his friend’s actions, but when he glanced over he was glad he did so because the boy had looked up and was grinning and nodding in their direction as he sang. Riding on impulse, Sehun jogged over and dropped his wrinkly pocket change into the guitar case. They made eye contact. The boy smiled up at him in thanks.

Jongin didn’t comment when he jogged back, and Sehun thought with a surge of confidence that it never should have been such a big deal to begin with.

 
 
Late one evening, when the skies were turning purple and the streetlights were flickering on, Jongin came and took a seat on the garden wall. The boy was in the middle of packing up his instrument. He looked over his shoulder at the newcomer.

"Hi," said Jongin.

"Hi," said the boy.

"Is this usually when you’re done for the day?" asked Jongin.

"Sundays and most weekdays," said the boy matter-of-factly. “Fridays and Saturdays, I stay out later."

"Makes sense," said Jongin. “You’re incredible on that guitar, by the way. And your voice. That song you were playing the other day, that was my favorite."

The boy glimmered up at him. “Thanks! That makes me happy to hear."

"The money you earn busking, it’s food money, right?"

"You guessed it," said the boy cheerfully.

Jongin appeared to be deep in thought. Finally, as the boy straightened up and shouldered his guitar case, Jongin blurted out, “Will you come see a movie with me if I buy the tickets and buy you dinner?"

"You mean right now?"

Jongin nodded. “Yeah, tonight."

"Sure!" said the boy with no hesitation.

"Really?" asked Jongin, not believing his luck. They didn’t even know each other’s names yet. “You…you didn’t even ask which movie."

"Well, you said you were buying me dinner," the boy laughed. “Or were you only joking?"

Jongin flushed and reflexively hid his face in his hands. “No I’m serious," he mumbled.

The boy grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his flushed cheek and clasping it warmly in both of his, tugging Jongin off the garden wall in the same motion. “Come on then. Whatever movie you choose, I’m sure I’ll like it."

The boy’s stomach gave off a faint rumble as he and Jongin walked downtown.

"You want dinner first?" asked Jongin.

"Dinner first would be really nice."

 
 
Sehun had just been to his favorite cafe and was taking the long way back so that he could savor his bubble tea (and incidentally walk past the park entrance). It was a windy day. A particularly big gust sent bills flying out of the open guitar case. The boy stopped singing with a panicked yelp, setting his guitar down on top of the remaining money in the case. Without a second thought, Sehun went after the errant bills, swiping them out of the air and gathering them up from the ground. Satisfied that he had caught them all, he made his way back to the boy who looked immensely relieved that Sehun turned out not to be a thief.

"Thank you," the boy breathed out in relief, accepting the bills gratefully and stuffing them into his case.

"No problem," said Sehun, a little winded but feeling good about himself.

"Oh no!"

"What is it?"

"Is—is that your drink?"

Sehun turned to look and saw with a twinge of dismay that it was indeed his bubble tea lying over the sidewalk.

"Oh…yeah…guess I must have dropped it." Sehun scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

"It looks like taro milk tea," said the boy softly and with an apologetic smile. “That’s my favorite, too."

It was just then that Sehun realized he had been listening to the boy speak for the first time. It was a soft, inviting voice. He stood there in awkward silence, unsure of how to respond.

"How about this." The boy was lifting his guitar back out of its case, careful not to send the paper bills underneath flying out again. “I’ll give you a free song request!"

"Oh, I…I don’t really…" Sehun took a deep breath, unable to meet the boy’s eyes. “I don’t really listen to music. I don’t know any songs."

"Nothing at all? Come on, everyone likes something." The boy was looking at him encouragingly. “I’ll play you anything."

Sehun looked everywhere but at the boy. “Even Justin Bieber?"

And that was how the boy with soft cloud cheeks and soft cloud hair ended up serenading Sehun in public and in broad daylight with Justin Bieber’s Baby.

By the end of the song, Sehun was blushing so hard he felt like he was on fire from his toes to the roots of his hair. He barely mumbled a brisk thank you and was about to make himself scarce when he felt a tug on his sleeve, and then thin fingers were tangling with his own as the boy pressed three crumpled bills into his hand. Sehun forgot to breathe for a moment and barely tuned back into reality in time to hear the boy speak.

"…for earlier. I’m sorry about your bubble tea. I haven’t gotten one in ages, but I hope the price is still the same and you can buy another with this."

The boy was standing so close Sehun could smell soap and clean perspiration. The top of his fluffy head was eye level with Sehun. His neck looked thin and awkward but in a maddenly cute way and his shoulders—he barely had any shoulders; his narrow frame was swallowed up neatly in Sehun’s shadow. Sehun felt a little lightheaded.

With heat still suffusing his cheeks and a hum in his ears, Sehun somehow managed to stumble wordlessly all the way home, staring dumbly down at the 3000 won in his hands.

 
 
Jongin was on the competitive dance team, so he had practice every evening Monday through Friday. When practice wrapped up was about the same time the boy with the guitar finished busking anyway, so with this in mind Jongin began taking a detour to the park near Sehun’s house on his way home each day.

The boy, he learned, was named Luhan. He looked young enough to still be a high school kid, but when Jongin asked him what grade he was in, Luhan had laughed and said he’d graduated high school years ago. He couldn’t afford to go to university though, so he worked odd jobs and sang at intersections during all his spare hours. His paycheck was enough to cover rent, but how much he ate depended on how much he made busking.

This newfound knowledge spurred Jongin to come by with food after practice. Usually something simple, like a sandwich. But once a week Jongin would insist on taking Luhan out to get a nice hot dinner.

"Have you been keeping tabs on me?" asked Luhan one evening with a touch of concern. “I’m probably racking up a huge bill."

Jongin couldn’t bear to see Luhan lose his sunny disposition even for a moment. “Hey, we’re friends. Don’t worry about it."

"Friends can owe friends money," Luhan pointed out.

"But I’m not lending you money, I’m helping you out! It’s like giving you a present. You don’t have to pay me back for this."

"Yeah, but I would feel like a bad friend if I kept getting presents without giving anything back."

Jongin tapped a finger on his lips. “How about…you give me a lifetime of free song requests?"

"Deal!"

They shook on it. Luhan’s sleeve accidentally knocked over the pepper shaker. Jongin tried to sweep the pepper into a pile, resulting in a lot of sneezes and laughter and teary eyes.

"Come on, eat up before your food gets cold."

 
 
Sehun felt a lot more confident nowadays. No longer was he darting furtive glances at the singing boy a couple times a day, instead he would make eye contact and say hi as he walked past, and the boy would return his greeting as well.

(This didn’t quite extend to weekends though when he went running with Jongin. Though Sehun could honestly say both he and his best friend were the shy type, Jongin had always been the more outgoing of the two. Whenever they jogged together past the intersection, it would always be Jongin who shouted a cheery, “Morning!" But now Sehun joined Jongin in waving, and when the singing boy nodded back at them, Sehun could almost swear he saw the light of recognition in his smiling eyes.)

Once, Sehun saw a group of girls from school passing by in front of the park. One of them stopped to take a picture of the singing boy while the others gathered around and giggled. Sehun was struck with envy. If only it were just as acceptable for a young man like him to do the same thing the young women were doing. He briefly considered following the girls and asking for a copy of the photo. No. That would definitely be creepy.

By the time Sehun reached home, he had hatched a brilliant idea. He kind of sort of borrowed his older brother’s DSLR camera (he technically didn’t ask permission, but he did leave a note!), pulled a beanie down over his wind-tousled hair, changed into an outfit with lots of pockets (button-up shirt, cargo shorts), and headed back outside.

He took the scenic route through the park, snapping pictures as he went. Before long, he heard familiar strains of music in the air that focused into guitar chords and the clear sound of the boy’s voice. Sehun consciously slowed his footsteps so as not to appear in a hurry, casually photographing the sunlight falling through the spray from the fountain.

The sound of singing and guitar playing paused. Sehun heard a little girl’s voice speaking up. He reached the front of the park in time to see a mother dropping a handful of coins into the boy’s guitar case. The little girl clapped her hands in delight as the boy began to sing and play DBSK’s Balloons for her. Without wasting a second, Sehun proceeded to snap several shots of the adorable scene.

As the song ended, the little girl had her mother help untie the string of a balloon from around her wrist. She went up and offered the balloon to the boy with the guitar. It was a perfect moment, and Sehun captured it—the little girl’s outstretched hands, the charmed and surprised expression on the singing boy’s face. The late afternoon sunlight made him glow around the edges as he sincerely thanked the little girl and tied the string of the balloon to the end of the neck of his guitar.

Sehun was able to get all his pictures unnoticed. He scrolled through them with a smile as he turned to head back. Hopefully his brother hadn’t even noticed the camera’s absence.

 
 
Jongin groaned as he stepped outside the performing arts building, shrugging his backpack off and holding it above his head. He had checked the weather that morning but it hadn’t said that it would rain today.

He was considering just going back inside on the off chance that somebody had a spare umbrella he could borrow when the sound of someone clearing their throat made him look over. There at the side of the building, was Luhan, holding an umbrella high over his head as he waited under the dripping eaves.

Jongin ran over and with no hesitation threw his arms around the boy in a grateful hug. “Luhan, you are heavensent."

Luhan ducked his head sheepishly. “You didn’t have an umbrella with you this morning, so when it started raining I thought maybe…"

"How did you find me?" asked Jongin.

"I just asked where the dance team practiced."

"Ah, good thinking." Jongin put his backpack back on and slung an arm around Luhan’s shoulders as they stepped out into the rain. “I don’t want to walk all the way downtown in this weather. Want to come over for dinner?"

"Can you cook?" Luhan asked cheekily.

"Can you?" Jongin punched him lightly on the arm.

"Sort of." Luhan punched him back.

"Then we’ll figure something out."

Jongin lived on the 12th floor of his apartment high rise. Luhan’s umbrella dripped a small puddle onto the floor during their elevator ride up.

Luhan toed his wet shoes off at the entrance as Jongin unlocked his door. Luhan looked immediately impressed as he was led inside.

"Wow, you have a really nice place." He turned at the end of the hall. “Two stories?"

"Yeah, two bedrooms upstairs. Sometimes my mom or my sisters come to stay, but most days it’s just myself."

"Where should I put the umbrella?"

"Oh just lean it against there. That’s fine."

Luhan wandered into the kitchen where he washed his hands and proceeded to poke through the fridge and freezer. “What’s your favorite food?" he asked, sounding muffled with his head still inside the refrigerator.

"Honestly, it’s fried chicken, but I’ve never made that myself before."

"Neither have I, but look. You have frozen chicken wings and drumsticks. Eggs…milk…flour… Do you have internet connection?"

"Of course."

"Then search up some cooking instructions and we’re good to go!" Luhan set the armful of ingredients down on the counter and clapped his hands.

Making fried chicken for the first time, as it turned out, wasn’t as scary as Jongin had thought it would be. They didn’t break anything or start any fires. They did end up making a huge mess in the kitchen though, but Jongin agreed to man the frying station while Luhan cleaned up.

All in all, it took them about an hour to finish cooking. They each carried a platter of fried chicken over to the dining table. Jongin poured them each a glass of iced tea and they dug in.

"This is amazing. One or both of us definitely has the magic touch," gushed Jongin as he took the first bite. He looked up to see Luhan, eyes closed, savoring his first bite as well. His long, dark lashes fanned out over his cheeks. That, Jongin thought, swallowing, was a face that should be doing food advertisements on billboards and on television. He noticed that Luhan had somehow gotten a smudge of flour on his nose and reached across the table to brush it off.

Luhan’s eyes flew open and he blinked, startled.

"Live with me," Jongin blurted out without thinking.

"Do you tell that to the fried chicken deliveryman?" Luhan asked jokingly.

"No, just you," Jongin said, flushing at his own cheesiness. If his hands weren’t so greasy right then he would have covered his face in embarrassment.

"I will consider your offer." Luhan chuckled. “You do have a very nice apartment."

After dinner, Jongin convinced Luhan that he would be more than happy to do the dishes himself later. Luhan went to peer through the window. The rain had stopped.

"I should get going before it’s dark out," said Luhan, gathering up his umbrella.

"Let me pack some leftovers—"

"No, no, keep them for later. You’ve treated me to too many meals as it is."

"But we agreed. You’ll pay me back with songs and—"

"I should really get going—"

"Wait—Luhan-hyung…"

Luhan turned. Jongin furiously scribbled something down on a sticky note, rushed over, and stuck it to Luhan’s forehead. Luhan blinked in confusion before peeling it off and peering at the hastily scrawled digits on it.

"That’s my number," Jongin said in a rush. “You have a cellphone right? Just…call me if you ever need anything."

"Thank you," said Luhan, pulling a simple flip phone out of his pocket and entering the numerals as Jongin awkwardly looked on.

Red bloomed in Jongin’s cheeks when he saw Luhan saving the entry into his contacts as Jonginnie <3.