*Half of the chapter is written in Baekhyun’s POV, while the first half is Iseul’s.

III: Of Friends and Achoholic Beverages

“Baekhyun!”

From the way Jongin threw himself at Baekhyun, there was no doubt he was happy to see his friend. It was a heartwarming reunion, but the fact that Baekhyun was a fair bit shorter than Jongin soon became a problem, because he almost collapsed under Jongin’s weight when the latter tried to wrap his own legs around Baekhyun’s. The thought dawned on me that the last time Jongin had seen Baekhyun, he had been ignoring all of us. And even if they called each other a lot…

It was Kyungsoo who dragged Jongin off, telling him in a chiding tone to stop, though a moment later, he engulfed Jongin in a huge hug. Only later on did I realize that Kyungsoo had been choking Jongin, not hugging him.

“That hurts,” Jongin wheezed. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“That’s exactly my point. Serves you right for ditching us all and leaving Korea, for god’s sake.”

Next up was my turn, and Jongin did a full body scan of me, standing about two meters away, before finally opening his arms to hug me. I had an armful of heavy clothing -- my winter jacket, and Baekhyun’s, which he had hurriedly thrown at my face just as Jongin launched himself at him.

Just when I braced myself for the blow and weight, he skidded to a stop. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes, a little shocked that Jongin hadn’t actually followed through with his hug he seemed to be giving everyone (except me), to find him staring down at me with arms folded over his chest. “You’re Baekhyun’s,” he stated, and the small tinge of confusion in his voice was something I wasn’t sure if I found funny or not. Maybe if my face wasn’t flushed, it would’ve been amusing. “Does that mean I’m not allowed to hug you, since Baekhyun will get mad? Or what?”

“You’ve arrived at Seoul for like, three hours, you little devil,” Baekhyun cried from a couple paces away, voice indignant. “Will you focus on something else? Hug her if it makes you shut up.”

After a while of contemplating, Jongin mouthed a sorry at me and moved on to tackling Chanyeol. He didn’t actually look very sorry at all.

Jongdae stood next to Kyungsoo at the side, grinning widely at Jongin when he was approached. He held out a hand. “I’m Jongdae,” he said. “I’m Kyungsoo and Baekhyun’s roommate.”

“I’m pretty sure Chanyeol said I’d only be buying four people bubble tea,” Jongin replied. “So I suppose you’ll be taking Kyungsoo hyung’s.”

“Hey!”

Jongdae’s eyes crinkled at the edges, and his grin got even bigger (if that was possible anymore), shaking Jongin’s hand with so much intensity that my own hand seemed to ache a little for Jongin’s. “I suppose we’ll have fun annoying Baekseul.”

“Baekseul!” Jongin exclaimed. “God, I’m so glad I’m not the only one who calls them that. Okay, even if Kyungsoo hyung refuses to sacrifice his bubble tea for you, then I’ll make sure Baekhyun does it.”

“Deal,” Jongdae replied.

When I turned to glance at Baekhyun, he was watching from the sidelines with narrowed eyes, looking a mix between fascinated and horrified. I decided that I was leaning a bit more towards the horrified side -- because now, I was wishing that Jongdae and Jongin didn’t actually meet each other. Getting along nicely was one thing, but this was on a different level, and it was quite scary now.

“You dragged us here to go shopping with you,” Chanyeol interrupted. “So I’m sorry I had to interrupt you guys’ moment of  staring into each other’s eyes, but I want the bubble tea and we’re getting that after shopping, so maybe we could hurry?”

Jongin turned back to Chanyeol, then to Baekhyun and I. I could see Jongdae’s satisfied smirk from the back, and I tried my best to ignore it. He pointed at me, then at Baekhyun. “They should hold hands,” he announced, and Chanyeol let out a laugh that sounded like he was choking. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, but he ought to known that Jongin would make such a request.

“No!” Baekhyun exclaimed a little too quickly, and when I snuck a glance at him, his ears were red. “It’s a public area. Besides, we’re out with friends, and malls have a lot of people, so it’s awkward and--”

“If you don’t, I’ll hold her hand,” Jongin called in a sing song voice, and I could almost see Jongdae applauding him. “And I won’t buy you bubble tea, so you’ll probably have to share with Iseul--”

I wasn’t sure if it was the threat of not getting bubble tea that motivated Baekhyun, or Jongin holding my hand -- because a split second later, warm fingers interlaced with my own. His grip wasn’t too tight, but it was a comforting feel, and if there weren’t so many people around us, I might’ve actually enjoyed it even more. “Alright,” Baekhyun groaned in defeat. His cheeks were red, and Jongin was grinning in triumph. “But seriously, I’d just share with Chanyeol if you didn’t buy me bubble tea. Or get my own, for the fact. You’re not the only one with money here, Jongin.”

“He’d share with Iseul,” Jongdae translated helpfully. “They’d use the same straw.”

***

In Baekhyun’s eyes, orange juice and apple juice were kind of like the opposites of each other.

They were both considerably popular drinks, and at restaurants, if they offered juice, there was always either orange juice or apple juice. People always had to choose if they liked orange juice better, or apple juice.

Baekhyun was more of an orange juice person.

So when Jongdae came back with apple juice for New Years dinner (Kyungsoo and Chanyeol promised to make a good dinner, but they’d probably end up in a food fight and wasting half of the food. Then, they’d have to make do with ordering pizza again, which might not even work this time because it was New Years and most stores and shops were closed, so they’d starve), Baekhyun was slightly disappointed. He’d always liked the colour orange and orange flavoured things, while apple juice was, in some way, the rival of that.

“I’m pretty sure the shopping list says orange juice,” Baekhyun called to Jongdae when the latter burst through the door. He kicked off his boots messily at the doormat, and if the spot he had been sitting in hadn’t been so comfy, Baekhyun would’ve been tempted to fix the way Jongdae’s boots were lying.

“All of us are sick of drinking your orange juice,” Jongdae retorted. “It’s New Years dinner for god sake! None of us want orange juice anymore.”

“I do,” Baekhyun grumbled. “And apple juice suits New Years so much better than orange juice.”

Jongdae shot him a withering look and retreated to his bunk.

Somehow, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol managed to cook that day without any unfortunate mishaps happening (namely water or some other kind of liquid boiling over -- that happened already one too many times), and soon, the mouthwatering scent of food was wafting through the whole dorm. It was a rare thing that Kyungsoo and Chanyeol, however good at cooking they were, were able to make a meal without any casualties.

Nearing seven, there was a knock at the door.

Baekhyun was a little slow to respond and control his own reaction: he leapt to his feet, only to sense Jongdae’s gaze on him. He slowly dropped back to the chair, but it was too late to stop Jongdae from bursting out into laughter. In the end, Chanyeol was the one who opened the door.

Iseul scanned the room with a frown, though her eyes ultimately ended on a snickering Jongdae. She pointed at him. “Is he the reason that it literally took thirty seconds for someone to open the door?”

“Blame your boyfriend.”

She cast her gaze at him, and Baekhyun raised his arms in mock surrender.

With an eyeroll and nothing else, she shrugged off her coat and tossed it towards one of the beds. “You guys better have made something good for dinner,” she joked. “My grandma said we could eat dinner together, but I already had plans with you guys. I’ll go tomorrow, but… her cooking is no joke.”

“If the food doesn’t turn out good, you’ll always be able to watch a food fight between Kyungsoo and his victim.”

Kyungsoo turned to fix his glare on Jongdae, raising his spatula in a threatening manner. “By the rate you’re going, you’ll end up being my so-called victim.”