Changmin is not at all sure about this overly innocent looking farm boy sitting across from his wooden desk. He tends to like workers who are serious, and can get the job done. In his experience, he knows that if someone is too smiley, they don't tend to take work as seriously.

That's part of the reason why Changmin doesn't often smile.

But the curly headed boy in a cotton farmer's shirt with and loose jeans is nothing but the brightest smiles, and has been since he walked through the doors of the small cabin-turned-office. And when his eyes fold into half-moons and freaking sunshine and rainbows radiate from his face even while Changmin is glaring at him is when Changmin decides, even before he begins the interview, "No."

The smile immediately disappears, and now the kitten turns into freaking Puss In Boots. Changmin swears it doesn't make sense, because the boy (Changmin keeps calling him a boy in his head, but in reality, he's probably the same age as Changmin, if not maybe even a bit older) seems like he has small eyes, but they're also inexplicably large, especially as hurt fills them.

"But – But you haven't even started the interview, I –"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jung," snaps Changmin, forcing himself not to give in. "I –"

"You can call me Yunho."

"No," snaps Changmin again. No, they are not on first-name terms, not when Changmin is never going to see this guy again. "I don't think you'll fit in here."

Then Yunho pouts.

He literally pouts.

His bottom lip sticks out and the forehead scrunches up, and he hangs his head until all Changmin can see is the top of his messy hair.

"Dear God," mutters Changmin, rolling his eyes. "Mr. Jung –"

"Can you please just call me Yunho."

"No," repeats Changmin. "I guess you need a job, so I'll put in a word for you at the apple orchard twenty minutes away. I think you'll fit in better there. I know the guy that runs it and I think he will like you."

"But this is my dream," begs the puppy. Or the kitty. Changmin can't even decide anymore. "I really want to work here. Please, Changmin?"

"It's Mr. Shim," grunts Changmin. "And I have other things to do now, so you're going to have to leave."

Yunho really looks like a kicked puppy now.

"All… All right. I don't… I don't want to bother you…" sighs Yunho. "Bye… Let me know if you change your mind."

Okay. 100% puppy.

"I won't," says Changmin firmly. "Goodbye. Don't forget to close the door behind you."

Changmin watches as Yunho stands slowly, completely dejected, as if he has lost the entire world.

His feet drag on the floor, and his shoulders slouch and his head is hung.

He opens the door and steps out reluctantly, and on his way out, he shoots a longing look at the rows upon rows of strawberry bushes.

Just before the door closes, the phone on his desk rings, and Changmin looks at it warily.

He knows who it is before he even picks up, and he considers letting it ring out, but he just sighs and picks it up.

"Hello, Shim's Strawberry Farm."

"Changmin, it's dad."

"I know," says Changmin with a sigh. He's starting to get a headache already.

"How are things there?"

"I hate it," responds Changmin right away. The door closes behind Yunho, and through the window, he can see Yunho walking along the dirt path now, so slowly that a – he doesn't know, what's the slowest animal? – could surpass him. "Take me back to Seoul, dad, please."

"You're only there for a week!" exclaims his father. "All you need to do is the hiring! No, not even the hiring, you just have to sign the papers, that's all you have to do! The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can come home!"

Changmin rolls his eyes. "It's not that easy."

His father sighs. "Son, it's strawberry picking. It's not like you need incredible qualifications to be a strawberry picker."

"Dad. It's still my farm, I don't want to just hire anyone! What if they slack off and the strawberries go bad because they can't finish the work on time?"

His father is silent on the other end, and Changmin knows that his father thinks he's the most incompetent thing ever. "Have you considered the time you're wasting trying to find the perfect candidate?"

Changmin's mouth drops open silently.

"Just hire someone," says his father, exasperated. "And then come home."

The phone clicks and his father's hung up.

Changmin rolls his eyes and looks out the window.

That country boy-puppy hybrid thing hasn't made it very far.

Just hire someone, Changmin.

Changmin sighs and gets up from behind his desk, and reluctantly. And then he pulls open the door, and his pristine shoes finally touch the dirt road. He doesn't have to walk far to catch up with Yunho.

"Hey – Hey! Mr. Jung!"

"It's Yunho," he corrects sadly, barely turning his head to look at Changmin.

"Okay. Yunho, Mr. Jung, whatever," says Changmin, waving the unimportance away. "I've changed my mind."

Yunho's droopy shoulders suddenly perk up, and he opens his eyes wide. "About what?"

"You're hired," declares Changmin.

"Are you serious?"

"Don't question me or I'll change my mind," says Changmin. "Come back in and sign the papers. You can start today."

Yunho positively squeals. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he exclaims, and the he hugs Changmin so hard that the air is knocked from Changmin's lungs. Changmin winces and struggles to spit out the bits of hay that made their way into Changmin's mouth from Yunho's shirt. Changmin struggles in Yunho's embrace, and only barely manages to push him away before his ribs are broken.

And , sunshine and rainbows are oozing out of Yunho's face again, and , he was a kitty after all.