warning: mentions of abuse

Ryeowook had a very specific daily routine. He would get up in the morning and make himself breakfast, quietly flipping through the newspaper or reading a book while he ate. Then he would go grocery shopping or searching for a new notebook or whatever he needed before lunch. After lunch (he never ate much, just a sandwich, usually), he would grab his laptop and head to his favorite café downtown. He would order bubble tea with extra pearls and take his spot at the same table he sat at every other day and sip slowly on his drink while people-watching and working on something he never let anyone see. Then it was dashing back to his apartment to put away his things and changing into his uniform and making his way to his night job at a small bar where he would silently mix drinks for whoever asked. He would clock out at one and head back to his apartment, where he would shower and fall onto his bed for some semblance of sleep before he got up the next morning to do it all over again.

The employees and regular customers of Kona Beans knew Ryeowook by name. One of the employees, Jungsoo, knew that Ryeowook never deviated from his routine and, therefore, had his regular bubble tea waiting for him the moment he walked through the door. The quiet man would hand over the exact amount he owed the shop without being asked, take his bubble tea (always in his left hand because he carried his laptop in his right), and sit down in his seat by the window. Jungsoo learned a long time ago that, if Ryeowook needed anything (and he rarely did) that he would ask for it and to otherwise just leave him alone to work in peace.

Nothing had upset Ryeowook’s routine in months so, that bright winter afternoon when a man he’d never seen before entered the shop, he had no reason to believe that today would be any different.

Ryeowook had barely settled into his spot when the man bustled through the door, shaking snowflakes from his dark, messy hair. The man smiled brightly when he spotted Jungsoo behind the counter and hurried forward.

“Hyung!” he called, and Ryeowook’s ears perked up when he heard the deep tones of his voice.

Jungsoo looked up to find the man right in front of him and his eyes widened in surprise. “Jongwoon! I didn’t know you were back! It’s been—”

“Two years, yeah. It’s so nice to finally be back home. I like what you’ve done with the place. Ownership suits you,” Jongwoon laughed a y laugh, leaning casually against the counter. “Can I get just some coffee with a little bit of milk?”

“Are you back for good?” Jungsoo asked, carefully pouring a cup of coffee and mixing in just the right amount of milk.

“Unless something happens, yeah. Maybe a couple trips here and there, but I shouldn’t ever have to be gone this long again, which is a relief. I sincerely missed Korea.” He paused as he pulled a couple of bills from his pocket, sliding them across the counter as he glanced around the shop; his eyes fell on the small figure in the corner bent over his laptop. He nodded in that direction. “What’s he working on?” He kept his voice low, but he was obviously curious.

Jungsoo didn’t even have to look to know who Jongwoon was talking about. “No one knows. He doesn’t talk about it. He’s been coming every day for months and working, though.”

“Well, I’m gonna go ask,” Jongwoon said softly as he grabbed his cup of coffee, walking toward the smaller man before Jungsoo could stop him.

Ryeowook could feel someone approaching him and immediately minimized the Word document he had been typing on just a moment earlier, instead staring blankly at a picture of a snow-covered Seoul that he had taken the year before. He could see the reflection of the man behind him in the darker parts of the screen. The man laughed.

“I guess I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you like that, huh? I suppose I don’t like people reading over my shoulder either,” he said with a small smile, sitting down across from Ryeowook at the table. He placed his coffee on the table, his eyes running over the half-empty cup of bubble tea, the notebook full of scribbles and notes, and the thin frame of the man before him. “My name’s Jongwoon. What’s yours?”

Ryeowook didn’t reply. His eyes flickered back down to his laptop screen and stared at it, willing the man to leave.

“Aw, come on, I don’t bite. I’m just curious. What’s your name?” he asked again and Ryeowook, thinking it would be easier to just give this Jongwoon what he wanted so he would leave, grabbed his notebook and flipped to a clean page.

Ryeowook, he wrote carefully, then flipped the book around so Jongwoon could see it.

“Ryeowook,” Jongwoon repeated, and a smile broke out across his face. “What’re you working on?”

The smaller man shook his head just slightly.

“Okay, well, I guess you want to get back to work on whatever it is, so I’ll just go. I hope to see you around, Ryeowook! Good luck on your project!” Jongwoon said with a nod, taking his cup of coffee and heading for the door.

Ryeowook watched him leave over the top of his laptop before returning to his work, trying desperately to go back to the normalcy of his daily routine.

---

That single meeting completely ruined Ryeowook’s routine. He was almost late for work that night and was so distracted that he messed up orders twice. By the time he got home, he was trying to convince himself that the day had just been a bad dream and that he would wake up without even remembering it.

Much to his disappointment, he very much did remember it the next morning, and almost changed his routine entirely to go to another coffee shop, but that, he decided, would be worse that the vague chance that he would see this Jongwoon again, so he went to Kona Beans at one o’clock like the always did, his laptop thrown in the bag he carried on his right shoulder.

He’d settled in with his bubble tea and was typing away quickly when he heard the soft tinkling of a bell as the door opened. His eyes flickered toward the door before he looked back at his computer; he stopped typing and actually looked up fully when it registered who he’d just seen.

It was that Jongwoon guy, smiling brightly as he headed toward the counter. Ryeowook immediately snapped his laptop shut, ing it into his bag before he escaped to the bathroom, locking himself in one of the stalls before Jongwoon had a chance to see him. He shivered slightly.

No. No more interruptions. No more interactions.

---

Jongwoon, when he got to the counter, glanced at the table in the corner before giving Jungsoo his order.

“Where’s Ryeowook? I thought you said he came everyday?”

Jungsoo looked up from the coffee cup, his eyes wandering over to the table. He blinked in surprise. “He was there a minute ago. His bubble tea is still there and he always drinks all of it, so he’s probably around here somewhere. Why are you so concerned with it anyway?”

“He’s intriguing.” Jongwoon cracked a grin, taking the cup from his friend.

“Don’t bother him, Jong—”

“I’m not going to bother him. Just share a table with him. I have work I need to do today too.” Jongwoon took a seat across from the glass of bubble tea and pulled out a notebook and a red pen, slowly turning through the pages and sipping on his coffee. Ryeowook had to come back sometime. Didn’t he?

---

After what he was sure was long enough for the man to be gone, Ryeowook poked his head out of the bathroom, breathing a sigh of relief when he didn’t see Jongwoon at the counter. He hitched his bag a little higher on his shoulder and headed back toward his table, freezing halfway there when he saw who was occupying the usually-empty seat.

He was about to turn around and go back to hiding in the backroom when Jongwoon looked up, glancing across the room and making eye contact with him; he waved slightly and Ryeowook, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, slowly shuffled over to the table. He took his normal seat, absolutely refusing to make any more eye contact with the other man, and slowly pulled out his laptop with every intention of just hiding behind it for the rest of the afternoon.

“I won’t bug you,” Jongwoon murmured after a moment, keeping his eyes on his own papers. He saw Ryeowook hesitate out of the corner of his eye. “I just wanted a little company as I sat, that’s all. Is that okay?”

Ryeowook blinked, peering out from behind his laptop at him. Suddenly, surprising even himself, he nodded once, his eyes glued to his screen. He didn’t catch Jongwoon’s happy smile.

---

Instead of upsetting Ryeowook’s daily routine, Jongwoon quickly became a part of it. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, he would come into the coffee shop at one o’clock and order the same thing before sitting down at the table with Ryeowook. He would pull out a packet of papers and a pen and spend an hour or two in silence before packing up his things, bidding the younger man goodbye, and leaving. Despite trying to convince himself otherwise, Ryeowook couldn’t help but look forward to those hours more than anything else in his week.

He didn’t think he would, but he found himself growing attached to Jongwoon. But he absolutely refused to admit it and instead continued to sit silently behind his laptop, sneaking glances every once in a while at the man across from him.

One afternoon, Jongwoon packed his things and was about to leave, but he hesitated. After a moment, he cleared his throat softly; Ryeowook looked up in surprise.

“Are you writing a novel?” he asked, and Ryeowook’s eyes widened as he glanced back at his computer. “It’s not that I’m asking to see it!” he said quickly. “I...know a publishing agent and I could get him to read it when you’re done, if you’re interested. Just let me know, okay?” He beamed when, after a long minute, Ryeowook nodded. He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and placed it carefully on top of the smaller man’s notebook. “See you Friday!”

Ryeowook watched him leave the coffee shop silently before his eyes slide down to the slip of paper: there was a set of numbers on it that he recognized as a phone number and a messy name - Jongwoon’s - sprawled across the top.

It was a very long time before his heart returned to a normal beat.

---

It took a few weeks before Ryeowook attempted to text Jongwoon, but once he started Jongwoon wouldn’t let him stop. That’s why, one Monday night, when he got a text message, the older man didn’t immediately think anything of it.

Jongwoon, can you come to Kona Beans on Thursday?

He blinked, slightly perplexed at this change in routine, but he quickly replied back that he would.

Ryeowook didn’t tell him why.

---

Thursday, when Jongwoon walked into Kona Beans, he didn’t see Ryeowook sitting at his usual table. He did, however, see a thick brown envelope placed very carefully in the middle of the table by the window. Curious, he approached it, looking only a little surprised to find his name on a piece of paper on top of it.

Jongwoon—

It’s done.

A smile spreading across his face, he picked up the envelope, prying it open and finding an entire printed manuscript of the novel Ryeowook had been working on all those months. His grin widened and he immediately left the coffee shop; he owed it to Ryeowook to get started on this right away.

Jungsoo appeared behind Ryeowook, who had watched the scene play out from his hiding spot behind the counter. “You could have just handed it to him in person, you know.”

Ryeowook shook his head slightly, his cheeks light pink, and Jungsoo just sighed.

---

It was almost two weeks before Jongwoon went back to Kona Beans. He found Ryeowook sitting at his usual table with his usual cup of bubble tea and a new notebook. Instead of getting his coffee, Jongwoon immediately went to take his seat across from his friend, looking much more serious than he usually did. Ryeowook slowly looked up, his stomach suddenly twisting itself into knots.

“I have a couple of questions,” Jongwoon started, then shook his head slightly. “No, wait, first I have to tell you something and then I have a question.” He took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry, Ryeowook; when I told you I knew a publishing agent, I didn’t exactly tell you the truth. I don’t just know one; I am the publishing agent, so I’m the one who read your story and I’m really sorry if you didn’t want me to but—” He stopped when he saw the younger man nod toward his notebook.

I know.

“You…you know. You knew? And you didn’t mind?”

Ryeowook shook his head slightly.

“Oh.” Jongwoon smiled slightly. “Oh, good. It was brilliant, though, Ryeowook. It was a gorgeous piece of literature from start to finish. But, um…I do have a question about it.” He thought he saw Ryeowook tense up slightly, but he plowed ahead, keeping his voice soft. “The hero of the story…the one who saves the main character…that was me, wasn’t it? He was based on me.”

Ryeowook, who had been turning the pen in his hands over and over, froze entirely, his eyes fixed on the table.

“And the main character…was…was based off you. Right?”

The younger man started to shake visibly.

“Answer me, Ryeowook. Please.” His voice was quiet, but there was a pleading note to it that was as clear as if he had shouted.  With shaking hands, Ryeowook reached for his notebook but stopped when Jongwoon placed his hands gently over his.

“Please, Ryeowook. I won’t hurt you. Please talk to me.”

Ryeowook was trembling, shaking his head quickly, his lips pressed tightly together.

“Please. Would you talk to me if we were somewhere more private?” It took several minutes before Ryeowook finally gave a very small nod and Jongwoon jumped to his feet. “My apartment’s nearby. Is that okay?”

Ryeowook didn’t answer; he just slowly got to his feet, clutching his notebook to his chest as he followed Jongwoon out of the door, leaving his unfinished cup of bubble tea at his usual table in the corner.

---

Jongwoon’s apartment was small and filled to the brim with manuscripts and novels and articles and notebooks and Ryeowook, though he was nervous and scared, smiled slightly at the mess. It was exactly how he’d pictured Jongwoon living.

The older man pointed toward a couple of chairs in the living room that were miraculously free of stuff and mumbled something about Ryeowook having a seat before dashing off to his office to grab the manuscript from his desk. Ryeowook obediently sat down in one of the armchairs, making himself as small as possible; he jumped in surprise, however, when a small brown-and-black ball of fluff bounded into the chair with him.

“I’m coming, I just wanted to—Kkoming! Leave him alone!” Jongwoon dropped the envelope of papers on the coffee table, hurrying over to grab the puppy that wouldn’t stop Ryeowook’s face and pull her away. “Sorry about Kkoming; I don’t usually have people over, so she gets really excited when someone else is here,” he explained quickly, his cheeks tinted the lightest of pinks.

Ryeowook shook his head slightly, holding out his hands; Jongwoon blinked in surprise, but handed his dog back to the younger man. Kkoming immediately curled up in his lap as he her back, looking pleased.

Jongwoon sat down in the other empty armchair and pulled the manuscript into his lap, slipping it out of the envelope and thumbing through the pages. “I didn’t notice it until I was reading it for a second time,” he said softly after a moment. “But the hero is a lot like me. He looks like me and he has a lot of my quirks. At first I thought it was coincidence, but then I started to realize how much the main character was like you and I thought it couldn’t be. Am I right?”

Ryeowook stared down at Kkoming and nodded slowly.

“Ryeowook, maybe this sounds stupid, but I care about you a lot. Honestly. And between the way you act, the way you hide from everything new and different, and what you’ve written, I know something happened and I just want to help you. Please.”

It took several long minutes before Ryeowook opened his mouth. He slowly formed the words with his lips, then took a deep breath before trying to speak.

“Jongwoon…” He sounded uncertain and looked surprised at his own voice, scratchy and muffled from years of no use. He pulled Kkoming up against his chest, holding onto her tightly like a security blanket as he cleared his throat and tried again. “I-I’m sorry--”

Tears welled up in the younger man’s eyes without him even realizing it and then suddenly he was crying, his chest heaving and his shoulders shaking and Kkoming trying to the salty tears off of his cheeks.

Without a second thought, Jongwoon moved, sitting down on the arm of Ryeowook’s hair and wrapping his arms around the younger’s shoulders, pulling him to his chest. He didn’t say anything; he knew it would be better to let Ryeowook cry, to let him let out those pent up feelings.

Ryeowook cried until he couldn’t anymore, and then he sat, sniffling, for a moment before he tried to talk again. When he did, the words came rushing out like they’d been looking for a chance to escape, a stumbling waterfall of emotions and heartbreak and pain.

He had been in love, so in love, when he was in college, and they had moved in together afterwards. Everything was fine until the mistakes, the slip ups, that led to at-first-gentle and joking shoves that slowly became harder and rougher. But He was just going through tough times, Ryeowook would rationalize, and would stay with Him, covering up the bruises with long sweaters and jackets and sunglasses. But then he found himself at the river and they were arguing and, the next thing he knew he was waking up in the hospital, his head pounding. The doctors said he was lucky that the blow to his head hadn’t caused any lasting damage, but it had. Not mentally, but emotionally, which was worse to Ryeowook and left him almost wishing he’d at least lost his memory. It wasn’t long after that that he’d slipped away, left everything he knew, and moved to Seoul. New starts, he’d decided, but all of the fight seemed to have been blown out of him; he’d fallen into a daily routine of nothing and work, then writing and work, staying silent rather than risking finding anyone else who might want to get closer to him. But then he met Jongwoon and, for the first time in years he allowed himself to be happy. For those brief meetings in the coffee shop, he was happy. Jongwoon started to sneak his way into his writing, and it was when he’d almost finished that he realized that he had some semblance of feelings for the older man. He was terrified of that, of liking anyone in that way after what had happened, but he couldn’t help it. And he was sorry, he said. Over and over and over. “I’m sorry.”

---

Jongwoon ran his fingers through Ryeowook’s hair. The younger man had slipped into a light sleep after his story, exhausted from so much discussion all at once. Kkoming whined softly, nudging his free hand gently and at his fingers. He looked down at her and smiled softly.

“I can’t leave him now,” he murmured, ruffling her fur. “I filled your bowl in the kitchen this afternoon.” Kkoming defiantly curled up in Ryeowook’s lap, refusing to move, and Jongwoon smiled. “Thanks, girl. He deserves the love.”

---

When Ryeowook woke up, he found himself wrapped up in Jongwoon’s arms on the couch. The older man looked like he was asleep, but his eyes immediately opened when he felt Ryeowook move.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Do you feel a little better?”

Ryeowook glanced into those dark eyes, the dark eyes he’d written about all those months, and he nodded slightly.

“Wook, I…” Jongwoon paused, thinking for a moment before a grin overtook his face. “I want to be your hero.”

Ryeowook’s eyes widened; the words rang loudly in his ears. “M-my book—” he choked out, shaking slightly. “I-I—”

“I figured, since he was based off of me anyway, your character wouldn’t mind me borrowing a line of his dialogue.” Jongwoon winked, tightening his grip around Ryeowook’s shoulders. “I just want to fix this. I want to be with you and I want to help you. I’m an utterly ordinary publishing agent, but I want to be your hero. I love you.”

The hesitant, soft kiss pressed against his jawline was the only answer Jongwoon needed.

---

Ryeowook no longer had a very specific daily routine. It had been three years since that day, since Ryeowook had left everything he knew for a second time and took a chance on a man he met in a coffee shop. Now he was generally woken up by kisses from Kkoming or Jongwoon or both, but, from there, every day was different. They still went to Kona Beans sometimes between book signings and meetings and lazy vacations to Jeju to relax, but their visits were more spontaneous and never really planned. Their days were filled with jokes and laughter and enough gentle kisses to fill several lifetimes and Jongwoon never stopped smiling, or talking.

Ryeowook didn’t either.