"What happened?" He slurred out, not quite sure where he was or why his mouth tasted vaguely metallic.

 

"You slammed the back of your head against the ground." A man answered as he placed a soothing hand on a still-seated Chanyeol's shoulder. "Broke your board in half, too, while you were at it."

 

Chanyeol didn't know this man, though, and his initial question had been for the general public, not for someone he didn't recognize to touch him too familiarly, so he shrugged off the man's hand and struggled to his feet. "I don't," he paused to raise a hand to his head as his vision blurred slightly, "I don't know you."

 

"I'm your manager!" The man's voice was shrieky and it made the sharp pains in Chanyeol's skull even worse.

 

"Save it," the injured man ordered definitively. "I've got to go to the pharmacy." This was whispered under his breath, more of a personal aside than anything else.

 

Though the man who claimed to be Chanyeol's manager trailed along behind while squawking indignantly, they happened to be in the neighborhood already, so it wasn't long before Chanyeol stood in front of those familiar glass doors. His grandmother used to drag him there once a week, if he recalled correctly, because there was always something wrong with her prescriptions—or else he'd done something reckless again and gotten hurt enough for a bandage but not for a hospital bill. They'd grab the item they came for, pay with carefully rationed coins that meant Chanyeol never had fancy electronic toys like other boys his age, and then loiter for a good ten minutes or so while Grandmother gossiped with whichever Ahjussi was working the cashier just then. Chanyeol followed this pattern of behavior almost exactly as he walked in, went toward the back to find the pain medicine and something for his lip, and brought everything to the front for purchasing.

 

The manager was still two steps behind him at every turn, rambling on and on about contracts and asset protection and him being valuable goods, but Chanyeol had found that tuning the small man out made his headache more bearable, so that's exactly what he did. He placed the items he'd selected onto the moving counter and watched with awed fascination as they slid forward toward the clerk with no more than the press of a button.

 

"I remember the good old days," Chanyeol commented to no one in particular, still a little woozy from when he'd hit his head. He frowned. "Now it's all automated junk and stuff like this." True, it had been interesting to note the changes that had occurred here over the years, but now Chanyeol decided he didn't like them in the least, and he glanced at the clerk to raise an eyebrow and siding his point.

 

One glance at the young man's face, though, and Chanyeol was pulled back into his recollections when he remembered one other thing about this pharmacy that had been buried a little more deeply than the others. There had been a boy sometimes, about his age or maybe a little older, who'd hidden behind the shelter of the counter top and colored quietly while the Ahjussi gossiped with Grandmother and Chanyeol nearly died of boredom. Other times the boy would be reading or helping out in the back of the shop, and sometimes he wouldn't be there at all, making young Chanyeol feel a little strangely in the pit of his stomach whenever those occasions occurred. But then one day, Chanyeol's grandmother had had a and passed in her sleep, and now this was the first time Chanyeol was returning in more than fifteen years.

 

"You used to color." He meant this like a question, but it didn't really come out like one and just ended up sounding pushy and overly interested.

 

The man looked a little concerned—he could probably see the smear of blood across Chanyeol's lips that he hadn't yet bothered to clean up—but nodded slowly. "I was a child once, so I suppose I did. Didn't you?"

 

This question took Chanyeol by surprise because he'd expected that his immediate recognition of the man as the beautiful and quiet boy from his memories to be instantly sly reciprocated. "Don't you know who I am?"

 

The pharmacist shrugged and gestures behind Chanyeol to the manager. "This guy says you're a famous skateboarder and that I probably should. I don't though," he looked like he meant it, too, "sorry."

 

"No, no!" Chanyeol was agitated now, and he was beginning to feel quite faint, too, actually. "I mean from before! I used to come here all the time with my grandmother when I was small."

 

The man quirked an eyebrow and smiled a little before he commented, "You don't seem the type to ever have been small."

 

"I say that all the time!" This was the manager, piping up from behind because he'd realized that Chanyeol was either deranged or forgetful, and either way this situation could turn ugly really fast. "And anyway, Yeol, it doesn't seem like he knows you, alright? Let's just go."

 

Chanyeol couldn't shake the feeling that he was right, but he trusted the utter confusion on the pharmacist's face, and heaved a heavy sigh as he paid. Technically speaking, the man standing across from him could count as Chanyeol's first love, but the man himself had no obvious memories of their minor encounters, and so Chanyeol had to make his peace with that. "Sorry to bother you then," he apologized sincerely to the man as he tossed his change into the small donation tray and grabbed his bag. "And thanks for the help."

 

"It was my pleasure." The man's tone was sincere when he smiled gently and added as they exited, "And Chanyeol-ssi, please go see a doctor, okay? That cut looks like a pretty nasty one."

 

Chanyeol's heart was warned as he let the manager guide him out the door and into a waiting van. Though the pharmacist obviously did not remember Chanyeol the way Chanyeol remembered him, his compassionate warning for a complete stranger sent butterflies to Chanyeol's stomach and tingles to his toes. From that aspect of the man's character alone, Chanyeol knew he'd be back soon, injury or no injury.

 

~~~

 

The small and annoying man Chanyeol hadn't first recognized turned out to really be his manager, but Luhan was no less small or annoying because of it. Chanyeol had been thinking for weeks about a non-suspicious way to visit the pharmacy again, so when he managed to twist an ankle pretty badly coming off a 360, he'd automatically decided what to do about it. Luhan, though, felt his star athlete needed the expertise of a hospital staff, and when Chanyeol had flat out and adamantly refused, Luhan's whining had gotten nagging once more.

 

Honestly, Chanyeol would have kicked his manager out of the van if he'd been physically capable of driving it himself, but, alas, his injured ankle made things difficult. They made it to the pharmacy in record time regardless, and Chanyeol's manager allows his client to enter on his own provided Luhan was allowed to trail, pouting behind him.

 

"I see you've rece more, Chanyeol-ssi," the pharmacist noticed. He glanced first at the spot where Chanyeol's split lip used to be, then recognized the signs of a slight limp and cast a worried look downward.

 

"It's nothing," secretly pleased to be remembered, Chanyeol downplayed his injury before the man could say anything more.

 

Luhan, though, had no qualms about the whole situation and couldn't care any less if Chanyeol's current state worried the pharmacist or not. "He isn't fine," Luhan grumbled. "Nearly broke his ankle out there today. I can't believe he won't go to the hospital!"

 

The pharmacist obviously tried not to smirk smugly, but Chanyeol would like to think he caught the man's expression before he hid it anyway. "You really should go to a hospital, Chanyeol-ssi. I believe it's important in your field to be as healthy and fit as possible. I can sell you bandages and medicines here, but that's about the extent of my healing abilities I'm afraid."

 

Chanyeol didn't want to admit that the man's healing abilities weren't the reason he'd insisted on returning, so instead he questioned aloud, "My field?" to which the pharmacist blushed wildly and looked away.

 

"I might have googled you," he admitted sheepishly while Luhan scoffed in the background. "After the last time I mean."

 

"Omo!" Chanyeol gasped in faux shock. "Discover anything interesting?"

 

"From the Internet?" The man teased, "Not really. But in general?" He added with a telling look at Chanyeol's rapidly swelling ankle, "You're a stubborn and impulsive man with a high tolerance for pain who enjoys life and doesn't let the little things slow you down."

 

Luhan was gaping, so the pharmacist turned to the manager and asked, "Sound about right?"

 

"Are you sure you're not a profiler?" Luhan was serious, but the pharmacist only laughed before replying, "Pretty sure," and sending the pair on their way."

 

~~~

 

Chanyeol did end up going to the doctor, so he was actually on crutches the next time he found a reason to stop by.

 

"Cut my finger while chopping tomatoes for pasta sauce," he shared with the pharmacist in too much detail.

 

"I'm sorry to hear that," the man replied feelingly. "I hope that minor accident didn't ruin any plans you might have had. This cut's not even really that bad, to be honest."

 

Chanyeol blushed and didn't mention that he was perfectly aware of the shallow nature of his injury—or that he had totally usable bandaids in a bathroom cabinet at his home. "No plans," he said, instead. "No one wants to date a cripple," he balanced on one crutch as he held up the other to show what he meant, "even a temporary one."

 

"Their loss," the pharmacist comforted, and Chanyeol had to laugh at the flush that overcame his face and the immediacy with which the man lifted his hands to hide it. "I'm Junmyeon," he added, almost shyly.

 

"It's nice to formally meet you, Junmyeon." Chanyeol greeted in return and stuffed his recently purchased first aid materials into his pockets as he prepared to hobble back out into the world. "It's about time, too."

 

Junmyeon's grin was wide as he nodded in agreement. "It really is."

 

~~~

 

Now that Chanyeol and Junmyeon officially knew one another, Chanyeol's visits became much more frequent, and he'd sometimes even stop by just to chat and would leave without buying anything at all. Time past and he got to exchange the crutches for his skate board again, and Chanyeol was elated when Junmyeon promised to come watch him compete in one of the pro competitions sometime.

 

That time was a lot sooner than expected, though, when Chanyeol showed up randomly one afternoon—as he was increasingly prone to do—and went straight up to the register, leaning against it to talk directly to Junmyeon as he did so. "My travel physician's getting married."

 

"That's great!" Junmyeon didn't understand why Chanyeol seemed so upset by this. "Good for him."

 

Chanyeol pouted. "In other words," he clarified obnoxiously, "he's quitting."

 

"Oh," was all Junmyeon had to offer.

 

"Yeah," Chanyeol's response was clearly forlorn. He perked up pretty soon, though, when he asked suddenly, "You want to be his replacement?"

 

"Me?" Junmyeon was astonished. He peered at Chanyeol questionjngly but most have seen something convincing in the skateboarder's gaze because he said, "You can't be serious? I'm not even a doctor!"

 

"You're a pharmacist! What's the difference?" Chanyeol didn't understand why something as personally trivial to him as medical doctorate degree was so important.

 

"Oh my god, Chanyeol." Junmyeon couldn't believe it. "That's like saying snowboarding and skateboarding are the same sport."

 

Personally, Chanyeol found that offensive. "But they're not!"

 

"Exactly!" Junmyeon's agreement was enthusiastic, to say the least. "And anyway, I'm not a licensed physician, okay? I'm not qualified."

 

"You are in my book," Chanyeol muttered under his breath.

 

"I'm glad," Junmyeon admitted as he blushed, knowing he wasn't supposed to have heard Chanyeol's comment but unable to keep from remarking on it anyway. "But I could still accidentally kill you, and then I think your Luhan might purposefully kill me, if I do."

 

"He'd get over it," Chanyeol's response was surprisingly cheerful for such a dour subject of conversation, and the absurdity of the whole situation made Junmyeon laugh.

 

When he returned his head facing forward from when he'd thrown it back in amusement, Junmyeon was surprised to see Chanyeol staring at him thoughtfully. "What?" Junmyeon asked, sounding embarrassed as he changed the course of their conversation abruptly. "Is there something in my tee–"

 

"Go to dinner with me." Chanyeol's interruption apparently took the pharmacist by complete surprise because he literally spluttered in shock.

 

"You want to take me on a date?" Junmyeon clarified questioningly, to which Chanyeol agreed with an enthusiastic nod. "Out of the blue?"

 

To that, though, Chanyeol's negative head shake was quite vehement. "Since the first time I came in here," he confessed shyly, "as an adult, at least."

 

It had been nearly four months since then, but this was news to Junmyeon despite how close the two men had gotten. "Really? You're serious? That long?"

 

"You once told me I was stubborn," Chanyeol remarked with a shrug. "This is just me putting that trait to good use. I stubbornly waited for the opportune moment, and now I'll stubbornly wait for an answer as long as it takes for you to giv–"

 

"Yes!" Junmyeon interrupted Chanyeol much like Chanyeol had done to him earlier. He leaned a little closer, not enough for their lips to touch, but their breath at least mingled when he repeated, "Yes."

 

After that, Chanyeol's smile was so blinding that The pharmacist had joked about needing to buy eyedrops from his own store in order to see again. "Better get two then," Chanyeol had teased with a playful wink, "cause, baby, your beauty blinds me."