Sanghyuk really was getting fed up with Hakyeon.

Hakyeon was his best friend for life, that was one thing he was 100% sure of, but he was also the person Sanghyuk hated most in the world.

Hakyeon was a busy choreographer with big, sparkly dreams about opening his own dance studio one day, always on the go for a ‘very important meeting’ with someone influential, maintaining his principle of Relationships First that was supposed to lead him to establishing a successful enterprise somewhere in the far future. Sanghyuk rather thought Hakyeon was just a lucky womanizer with a handsome face, lean body and some killer dance moves with eloquence on top, considering that most of his very important acquaintances were exceptionally pretty young women.

Sanghyuk was glowering at the cash register at the coffee shop, imagining kicking Hakyeon’s round buttocks in every way possible before he ordered an iced latte with Cinnamon Dolce Syrup and whipped cream and a cappuccino for takeaway. He had received a text from Hakyeon about five minutes before that read: “meet me on the corner of your block? buy me a coffee pls!!”, so Sanghyuk had pulled on some decent trousers and a pair of worn sneakers, his T-shirt creased as it was from never being ironed after it’d dried, and hurried down to the coffee shop to buy Hakyeon his favourite beverage.

Sanghyuk was standing idly near the corner with two cups in his hands, cursing himself for being so obedient whenever Hakyeon told him to stop doing whatever he was engaged in and meet him, usually bringing along some type of food or drink just like now. God, Hakyeon was an amazing friend, but he was also the worst.

“Mm, coffee.”

Sanghyuk jumped a little as he heard the strangely familiar voice from above his shoulder, taking a step back to look at the sudden appearance.

“Hello, Sanghyuk,” the guy with the wide brimmed black hat and shiny eyes trilled, and Sanghyuk almost dropped the cups as Jaehwan smiled at him, nose tipped up as he smelled the coffee scent.

“Uh, hey,” Sanghyuk replied cleverly. “You like coffee?”

“Every now and then,” Jaehwan shrugged, eyeing the drink that was supposed to be Hakyeon’s like a lion preying on a gazelle. He sighed. “That one looks tasty.”

Sanghyuk looked down at the latte in his hand, trying to realize what was so attractive in the dirty-looking water with what seemed to be thick black petroleum on the bottom and a sad, sugary whipped cream mountain on top. Then he looked at the battered guitar bag on Jaehwan’s shoulder and the hat from under which some curly locks peeked.

“Do you want it?”

“Really?” Jaehwan asked, voice jumping up an octave, eyes widening for a second, but then he deflated a little. “No, thank you. You clearly bought one of those for someone, and I’d hate to take it away from either of you.”

“I can just buy another one,” Sanghyuk said, reaching out the cup. “Take it.”

Jaehwan blinked at Sanghyuk, then back down at the cup, taking it almost timidly. He wrapped his lips around the straw, and Sanghyuk had to avert his eyes to avoid cooing at this random person that started to look more and more like some stray baby animal he was feeling pity for.

“This is the best,” Jaehwan said, some drops of latte off his lips. “You’re a very nice lad, Sanghyuk. I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t!” Sanghyuk said quickly, because seeing that Jaehwan may or may not be homeless (even though something really was off with him), he didn’t want the musician to feel obligated to return the favour. “I mean, you just… enjoy it, I guess?”

“I will,” Jaehwan grinned. “But still, I’ll try to figure something out for the next time we meet. I’ve got to go now. Thank you again and see you soon!”

“Yeah, see you.”

With that and a smile Jaehwan descended into the underpass a few steps away.

“Here you are.”

“Hakyeon!” Sanghyuk exclaimed in the tone of a person caught doing something bad.

“Who else?” Hakyeon furrowed his brow as he started walking fast on the pavement, away from the block Sanghyuk lived in, and Sanghyuk followed him like a good dog. “Where’s my latte?”

“Well, that… hm,” Sanghyuk gave him the cappuccino which Hakyeon stared at suspiciously. “They ran out of all the syrups, so I bought you a cappuccino.”

“You’re lying,” Hakyeon said, taking a sip and making a face at the cup. “And this is sewage.”

“Yeah?” Sanghyuk asked with a tiny flame of anger flaring inside his chest. “I’m not your personal assistant, you know. I could have just ignored your text and stayed at home.”

“Oh, you’ve entered your rebellious state,” Hakyeon jeered, drinking some more of the cappuccino and then throwing it away into a trash can. “You’ve grown up so soon.”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to talk to me like you’re my mother or something?” Sanghyuk grumbled. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“That place,” Hakyeon pointed at a tailor shop on the other side of the road.

“What for?”

“I’ve ordered some performance clothes for my dance group. We’re going to be in a music video in a few days. We’ve got to pick the clothes up, and after that I have a very—“

“A very important meeting,” Sanghyuk finished the sentence.

“You know, you actually could be my personal assistant.”

“That’s a terrible idea and you have to forget about it.”

“What a shame,” Hakyeon shook his head, pressing down the handle on the shop’s door and entering with a way too enthusiastic: “Good afternoon, Taekwoon!”

Sanghyuk looked around the different fabrics and sewing tools displayed around the walls, a curtain hanging in a corner with a small chair and a mirror behind it, the wooden counter and the finished clothes hung up on racks. He noticed a tower of boxes moving from a back room until they got put on top of the counter, revealing a hostile looking man with a tape measure around his neck and a dangerous glint in his eyes as he glared at Hakyeon. Sanghyuk thought the guy must have been an undercover drug dealer or maybe a hitman disguising his business in a very lame way, but when Hakyeon opened the four boxes, he only saw a bunch of trousers, skirts, crop tops and shirts in them.

Hakyeon pulled out one of each item, organizing them into outfits, observing the patterns and the seams.

“Beautiful job, Taekwoonie,” he said, looking impressed, which was a very rare happening in Cha Hakyeon’s life. “Amazing as always.”

“Thank you,” the tailor replied and Sanghyuk made a throaty noise upon hearing the soft voice that just came out of the tall, intimidating man who stared daggers at him afterwards, making Sanghyuk turn his gaze away.

“How much was it again?”

Sanghyuk listened to Hakyeon trying to flatter Taekwoon to extort a discount from him, his attempts becoming more and more cringe worthy by the minute. In the end, he got 10% off, and as they made their way out of the shop, Sanghyuk glanced back at Taekwoon who looked like he had suffered through a physical battle, suddenly feeling sympathy for the guy.

“Something’s not right,” Sanghyuk said as soon as they were out in the street again.

“What do you mean?” Hakyeon asked in that slightly off-pitch voice that appeared when he was trying to be innocent.

“You gave me two boxes to carry,” Sanghyuk pointed out. “Normally you’d give me all four. What do you want?”

“What are you talking about? I’d never—“

“Cut it out, Hakyeon, what do you want?”

“Okay,” Hakyeon sighed. “These boxes have to be taken to the studio as soon as possible but I can’t cancel my appointment now. Please. Please, Sanghyuk, please.”

“God, Hakyeon, really?”

“Please, please, please.” Hakyeon whined. “I’ll take you to the cinema on Friday. I’m paying for your ticket and snacks and dinner afterwards, promise.”

“Okay,” Sanghyuk said, defeated. “Okay, but this is the last time I’m doing this.”

“I’ll never ask you again, I swear to my life,” Hakyeon said, placing the two boxes in his hands on top of the ones in Sanghyuk’s arms. He, then, stepped closer to Sanghyuk, ruffling his hair. “You know that I love you, right?”

“I wish you didn’t,” Sanghyuk grumbled, adjusting the boxes.

“Cinema!” Hakyeon called out, and started jogging down the street.

Sanghyuk grunted and cautiously made his way towards the subway.

He heard it. He could clearly hear the melody of a guitar being played and the voice following it note by note. He also heard when it all stopped and a few seconds later the hurried steps as a pair of feet approached him, their owner asking: “Can I help?”

“Jaehwan… right?”

“Ten points to Gryffindor.”

“I’d be glad if you helped,” Sanghyuk groaned behind the boxes, Jaehwan still out of his view. “Besides, I’d never get into Gryffindor.”

Jaehwan took two of the boxes and Sanghyuk was greeted by his wide brimmed black hat and that kind smile of his.

“Where are you taking these?” Jaehwan asked.

“Three stations away from here.”

“Can I come along?”

“Well, you can, but I don’t expect you to carry some boxes around for a stranger.”

“You’re not as much a stranger as you could be,” Jaehwan replied and Sanghyuk had to agree with that. “This is repayment.”

“I don’t want you to pay anything back,” Sanghyuk said, balancing the boxes between his chin and right forearm until he pulled his pass out of his back pocket. “What I gave you I gave them because I wanted to give them to you, not because I wanted you to return them in some form.”

“Well, then, take this as a kind stranger helping another kind stranger.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you.”

They made their way towards the metro entrance, Jaehwan using a ticket freshly bought from a machine. When they were both sitting on the train, Jaehwan asked: “What House, then?”

“Sorry?”

“What House would you be in then, if not Gryffindor?”

“I don’t know,” Sanghyuk mused, trying to take everything into consideration like he had to make the most important decision in his life. “Ravenclaw, maybe? I mean, I have good grades. I don’t mind studying.”

“That’s nice,” Jaehwan said, tilting his head to the side, yet again reminding Sanghyuk of a puppy. “I wish I were good with studying. But I’m pretty lazy, you know.”

“So what House would you be in?”

“Hufflepuff.”

“You’ve been thinking about this.”

“Not much, it’s pretty obvious. I like people, I’m friendly and I’m usually considered weird. A true Hufflepuff.”

“You, uh, wow,” Sanghyuk let out a nervous giggle. “Are you being sarcastic now?”

“Not at all,” Jaehwan said, smiling at him. “Hufflepuffs are people, too. Don’t be pompous, Mr. Ravenclaw.”

“I’m not. It’s just weird that you admit that you’re… weird. I mean, you’re not weird to me, but… Even if you were, I wouldn’t mind. Weirdness is cool. You’re cool.”

“You are a very well-mannered guy, Sanghyuk,” Jaehwan said with a glint in his eyes that Sanghyuk sort of interpreted as mischievousness, but he mumbled a ‘thank you’ anyway.

They got off the metro, Sanghyuk leading the way towards the dance studio Hakyeon worked at. Jaehwan was chattering about the weather: how it had been sunny and warm the last two days whereas it had been raining for days on end before. Sanghyuk listened and only contributed to the conversation in the form of a few nods and ‘yeah’s, but not because he wasn’t interested in the topic. His only excuse for being so taciturn was that he really was listening. Not exactly to the point of Jaehwan’s speech but his voice; it was a very attractive voice—and at this point Sanghyuk questioned his sanity—melodic in places like the soft notes coming from a well-tuned piano, but it also had a husky edge to it, and that made the palms of Sanghyuk’s hands become clammy. Jaehwan also cawed at a bird during their journey, and Sanghyuk laughed so hard a small snort escaped him, giving Jaehwan the opportunity to grin victoriously.

“Thanks for helping,” Sanghyuk said, standing stupidly outside the dance studio once they delivered the boxes. “It should’ve been my friend’s job to bring those clothes here, but… well, he’s a busy person.”

“And I’m not, so thanks for not letting me get bored.”

“Yeah,” Sanghyuk replied, scratching the back of his head. “So, um, we could get going, huh?”

“We could,” Jaehwan said, looking up at the bright blue sky. “Or we could go to that playground.”

Jaehwan was pointing at the playground between the blocks of flats opposite them; the place looked miserably abandoned on a beautiful weather like that.

“The playground?” Sanghyuk asked, confused.

“I mean, if you’re not as busy a person as your friend.”

“I’m… not.”

“Glad to hear.”

Jaehwan showed him another smile and started walking towards the pedestrian crossing.

They quickly learned why the playground was so abandoned: the metal toys were all rusty, one of the two swings had fallen off, and there was a small plate informing parents not to let their children play in the place as it was about to be modernized nailed to a nearby chestnut tree.

Jaehwan put his guitar down on the ground and climbed up on the ladder quite illogically attached to the swing—he climbed all the way to the top, sitting on the beam and sliding over the spot where the swing had been, his legs dangling down.

“Aren’t you coming up?” Jaehwan asked, glancing down at Sanghyuk.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Sanghyuk mumbled, looking at the plate. “These toys are old. You should come down, too.”

“This seems to be quite solid,” Jaehwan said, patting the beam.

Sanghyuk pulled a face and reluctantly started climbing the ladder, sitting on the top, securing himself by resting his feet on one of the steps. Jaehwan hummed a song, and Sanghyuk watched him stare off into space, suddenly blurting out the question: “So, are you a starving artist?”

Jaehwan stopped humming and looked at Sanghyuk with a serious expression.

“Hm, no,” he said. “I wouldn’t say I’m an artist.”

“But… you’re starving.”

Jaehwan let out a soft laugh.

“No, I’m not even starving.”

Sanghyuk furrowed his brow, watching Jaehwan’s feet swinging back and forth in the sneakers that seemed to be fairly new. Something was not okay here.

“Then why are you… out there?” Sanghyuk asked. “In the subway. Playing your guitar with that silly hat in front of you, singing about people giving you their spare change.”

“Ah,” Jaehwan sighed, “maybe I am an artist.”

“What?”

“You obviously don’t understand my situation, but I’m starting to believe that I think differently than others,” Jaehwan grinned. “Isn’t that how artists work? Or so people say.”

“You really are weird,” Sanghyuk said, smiling. Normally, he wouldn’t have smiled at weird people, they were just… strange, and that usually didn’t leave a positive impression on him, more like a neutral one. Jaehwan was different;too weird to be weird. “But if you tried explaining this whole thing to me, I might understand you.”

Jaehwan looked up at the sky, squinting, and then blinked a few, most probably trying to get rid of the dark spot the light of the sun left in his eyes, before saying: “It’s like… well. I’m out there because I want to sing, and I want people to hear me. You know that feeling when you have something to say and you’re aching to let all of it out but there’s no one around who would listen? It’s like that to me; I constantly feel like I want to affect people with my songs, and they don’t really want to hear them—no one does, people walk around with earphones to block out noises and their own thoughts, and they don’t even bother to look at me, even when I come up with random lyrics about them. But sometimes people like you stop to listen and pay attention, and then I feel like those people might appreciate what I’m doing, maybe I’m giving them a few notes to be stuck in their heads, maybe I can make them smile just a little, maybe they care. They give me hope.”

Sanghyuk mused on that a little, trying to understand the whole thing, but he only felt that he was failing miserably at it.

“Does that mean that you want to be discovered as a singer?” he asked in the end.

“To have staff members shove me around and put me into glittery outfits that fit so tight my groin burns?” Jaehwan scoffed. “No, thank you.”

“Okay, but then why are you doing it?”

“Ah, you mere mortal being,” Jaehwan said—cooed. “It’s really hard for you to comprehend things, isn’t it?”

“I’m not stupid,” Sanghyuk grumbled.

“No, you aren’t,” Jaehwan acknowledged that with a nod. “You’re just too conservative.”

“Because I don’t get why a person who has no reason to be begging for money is trying to entertain people in subways? Excuse me for not finding the logic behind it.”

“No need to be so worked up, Sanghyuk,” Jaehwan said in a tone that Sanghyuk didn’t like at all. It reminded him of his mother trying to soothe him when he was upset about something objectively trivial. “The change I want is like pocket money. I have a student loan to pay from my salary, but I don’t like living on minimum expenses. You see, I’m horribly addicted to sweets.”

Sanghyuk laughed, and Jaehwan watched him with his eyebrows raised.

“So,” Sanghyuk said, shaking his head incredulously, “basically, you’re doing it to have money for sweets, then.”

“Must you be so materialistic?” Jaehwan asked in a seemingly mock-indignant manner.

“I’m just trying to find the rationale behind all of this, but, as you said, I’m a mere mortal and I’m afraid I cannot possibly understand the way your kind of extraterrestrial creatures think.”

Jaehwan pressed his hands on his chest for dramatic effect, attempting to keep a straight face and almost messing up.

“You hurt my soul, young man.”

“Why?” Sanghyuk smirked. “I didn’t say it was a problem. I’ve always envied Elliott for having E.T.”

“How wonderfully flattering that you’re likening me to a parched cabbage of a thing,” Jaehwan said, pulling a face.

“Are you stating that I couldn’t lure you into my place with some candy?”

“I’m stating that you destroyed my self-esteem.”

“I never said you looked like E.T.! In fact, I think it’s the opposite.”

As Sanghyuk finished the last sentence, he felt his face flush. He bit his lower lip, looking down at his shoes, and then back up at a beaming Jaehwan.

“Oh. Well, thank you,” Jaehwan said and winked at him. “So, what was that about the candy?”

“Is that really all you managed to get out of what I said?” Sanghyuk asked, arching an eyebrow at Jaehwan.

“I told you I’m addicted to sweets,” Jaehwan replied, smirking. “And, speaking of sweets, why do you think I’m here with you, honey?”

Sanghyuk’s feet slipped on the step and he yelped as he tried to re-balance himself. His face was undeniably red now which made Jaehwan watch him with amusement (Sanghyuk saw it from the corner of his eye), and he only managed to murmur, “God, don’t call me that”.

“Honeybunch,” Jaehwan said, and his grin grew even wider if that’s possible. “Sweetie. You are the first spoon of sugar in my morning coff—”

“Okay, got it!” Sanghyuk grumbled, but he couldn’t hide his goofy smile. “Is this revenge for the E.T. thing?”

“Sort of,” Jaehwan shrugged.

Jaehwan looked over the trees and buildings in front of them, right at the sun again as it made its way downwards to disappear under the horizon in about an hour. Sanghyuk wanted to break the silence with something because it felt slightly uncomfortable to him but apparently not to Jaehwan—he didn’t look too deep in thought yet he wasn’t as fidgety as Sanghyuk. What a brave person.

“I think I should go now,” Jaehwan said after a few minutes. He let out a sigh. “Someone isn’t going to be happy if he doesn’t get his dinner in time.”

“Someone?” Sanghyuk asked, half-curious half-unwilling. He would have liked to spend some more time with Jaehwan, weird or not. (Mostly because he was weird.)

“Someone,” Jaehwan replied and sent a kind smile to Sanghyuk.

Jaehwan jumped off the beam, landing crouched down. He stood up then and reached his hand out to Sanghyuk. “May I?”

“You may not,” Sanghyuk grumbled as he turned around and awkwardly climbed down—his legs way too long for such tiny steps. He heard Jaehwan snigger behind him.