The day starts quite nicely for Sanghyuk, and that’s why he is immediately aware of every single little thing on the matchbox he calls a dorm; he doesn’t fall off the bed nor is awaken by the devil cat whom belongs to his roommate and unfortunately – as it is typical of him – best friend Sungjae. There’s no leak on the ceiling that happens to drip on his forehead and there’s no weird noise coming from the other side of the room, which means Sungjae and his boyfriend Peniel aren’t faces – or… other places – in the early hours of morning.

 

The sun isn’t too bright on his face, he’s well-rested and for once, he’s not late to class.

 

Sanghyuk almost feels normal.

 

(because he never knew what it means to be lucky, not in the twenty one years of his existence)

 

So, of course things change by the time he goes to the bathroom. First, he has to – shamefully – wake Sungjae and ask, with a flaming face and gritted teeth, for toilet paper, since the bathroom just ran out. After getting mocked by his alleged best friend and being hit square on the face by the accursed paper, Sanghyuk enters the little shower rectangle, only for the water to smack him like a block of ice. He trips by the door, barely managing to hold onto a wall and avoid breaking his neck and when he looks at his bed where he had put his clothes for the day earlier; he finds the devil cat – Miyu, a name too cute to belong to that furry monster – on top of his black shirt. In his attempt to pry Miyu – he resists the urge to scoff – out of his clothes, he gains yet another scratch on his arm, to make company for the others; he does manage to make the cat go away, but his shirt is ruined, and he has to choose another.

 

Thanks to his – complete lack of – luck, the other clean shirt he finds is a hot pink sweater Jaehwan – a hyung that acts like a five year old – gave him.

 

The day is hot, but Sanghyuk will have to bear with it.

 

Until he leaves home, his papers scatter everywhere, and his phone disappears in the last minute, making him pass through the door in a haste to arrive the bus stop in time, kicking the door. A curse slips passes his lips.

 

In a miracle he catches the bus, but has to spend the next forty minutes standing, since his lateness cost him the last seat. He sighs; sweat drips down his back and neck, his hair plastering on his forehead, staining his face blue with his recent dye-job – that was supposed to be purple, but, yeah, unlucky – and making some high-schoolers snicker at what he knows it’s a pathetic vision.

 

They make him remember that his first class is with Ms. Oh, and the snake hates him with passion.

 

 

 

***Luck***

 

 

 

“Excuse me, did someone lost 50.000₩?!” Hakyeon exclaims, waving the money in the middle of the office; Taekwoon stands by his side, slightly flustered at his friend’s loud voice, secretly wishing there was a quieter way to call everyone’s attention.

 

A girl – Nayoung, if he recalls correctly – quickly searches for something on her pockets, squeaking when she seems to not find it; she runs towards them, bowing deeply and thanking them repeatedly for finding her money for the day. Hakyeon smiles brightly, giving it back to her, saying she should thank Taekwoon really, since the thing flew straight into his face the moment he got up to pick some water.

 

He nods when she turns to him, a slight smile on his face.

 

“This guy right here is very lucky~” Hakyeon singsongs, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Walk half an hour with him on the street and who knows? Maybe you’ll meet G-Dragon or find the winning ticket for the lottery.”

 

Nayoung looks at Taekwoon, mouth hanging open in wonder.

 

He raises both his hands in embarrassment, trying to cover his face; his friend should be more discreet if he’s going about how lucky he is, no matter how true the statement is. It’s not like he has found a pot of gold in the end of a rainbow, and he’s not some kind of invincible person who can cross the street with his eyes closed and survive. So yes, he often finds money and for some reason he always has an umbrella with him when it rains, but that’s about it.

 

Still hiding his flaming face from the obviously admiring look people – because Hakyeon has to speak very loudly – throw at him, he softly says, “It’s nothing,” before attempting to go back to his cubicle.

 

Attempting being the right word for it.

 

“Taekwoon!” someone calls him, and as he turns, he mentally sighs. It’s not like he has a problem with Luhan, but his superior is kinda… clingy. “Taekwoon!”

 

“Yes, sumbae-nim?”

 

“I need you to bring me six coffees: three decaf, one black, one with cream and a latte, please~” Luhan singsongs, and Taekwoon slowly nods his agreement, not exactly understanding; his superior has assistants and a secretary to do this kind of menial job, and he’s past the period of doing them. Yet, he goes after picking up his phone and in the last moment, bows down to pick a fallen pen. Almost immediately, someone grumbles an ‘ouch’; he apparently just escaped a stapler on the face thrown by an angry-looking Sooyoung, the object hitting his cubicle neighbor Wonshik.

 

He leaves waving Hakyeon away, his hand holding instinctively a packet of snacks Jaehwan – a dongsaeng that acts like a two year old baby – keeps throwing in the air. It’s his favorite flavor – spring onions – and so he decides to have it, happily ignoring the whines of the younger as he opens the packet to eat.

 

“Ah, hyung! Don’t forget Friday’s meeting! 7p.m!”

 

Taekwoon nods to himself, humming around a mouthful of the snack. The moment he presses the button of the elevator it opens its doors for him, luckily empty and descending. He looks at himself in the mirror and fixes a strand of hair that falls out of places in his head, perfectly content with the recently dyed black color, done really well and without stains. The elevator reaches the ground floor and he leaves.

 

He hasn’t given four steps the building when he ponders if he has enough money to buy everything Luhan asked him and a little more, if it’s the day the coffee shop is selling his favorite chocolate muffin – he’s still hungry, okay? He’s a 26 year growing adult – and digs for his wallet.

 

He’s just finishing counting – he has the exact amount, down to the cents – when a flash passes through his eyes.

 

“OMG HYUNG! I’M SO SORRY! IT DIDN’T HIT YOU, DID IT?!”

 

Not understanding, Taekwoon looks up, meeting the blurry faces of some of his juniors, Jimin and Taehyung, almost falling from the window they’re hanging from, hands flailing everywhere as they shout apologies. He catches words like ‘competition’ and ‘spit’ and ‘Taehyung’ and ‘fault’ and he kinda of understands what is happening; to confirm, his eyes drop to the ground, and there it is, a wet mark, gross and centimeters away from his feet.

 

“Gross,” he says to himself; to scare the guilty boys a little, he turns his attention back to them and puts on his scariest glare. Even from the distance – there are on the second floor – he can hear the squeaking sounds they made as their heads disappear inside the building.

 

Let them sweat until he’s back.

 

The coffee shop is bursting at the seams with so much people, and he pouts, thinking of how much time he’ll waste waiting; it turns out half of the people were together and not two minutes after he’s arrived, Taekwoon is the next in line as the 10+ group leaves, chatting loudly. He shrugs and repeats the orders to himself and a minute later, to the cashier, who smiles at him. Yeah, he’s a loyal customer that comes there at least thrice a week. He also orders for his chocolate muffin and the girl – Youngji, as written on her nametag – giggles as she gives it to him, saying he’s lucky for picking the last one. The boy behind him groans dejectedly, clearly having the intention to buy the same muffin.

 

Taekwoon goes on his way happily munching on the sweet, six coffees on his left hand.

 

 

 

***(Un)Luck***

 

 

 

“Yeah, I know hyung, I know I’m late, I had some… problems,” Sanghyuk apologizes, pressing the phone between his ear and shoulder, as one hand tries to help his feet into fitting his shoes and the other runs through his hair, slightly greasy and stiff for the excess of gel Sungjae – the jackass – poured on his head in an attempt to help him get ready in time, for the devil cat jumped on his friend’s lap, scaring him and making him squeeze too hard, practically soaking Sanghyuk. Half an hour went to taking most of it off.

 

“It’s impolite to make others wait! Everyone’s already here!” Jaehwan’s shrill voice hurts his ears, and he sighs, tripping right after. He doesn’t fall, but the scare is bad enough. Sanghyuk prefers to use the stairs; with the way life is, if he picks the elevator the thing will probably stop and make him wait 3 hours for help.

 

“Twenty minutes tops–” he stops himself when he sees the traffic. “Make that forty.”

 

He hangs up before Jaehwan can complain more.

 

For some divine help – not luck –, the place is near so he doesn’t need to pick a bus and the taxi fare isn’t really expensive, though it still takes him forty five minutes to arrive. Jaehwan had chosen a cozy little restaurant, with soft lights and tables made of dark wood; even with the dim illumination, he easily finds his friends’ table. It’s not hard, for Jaehwan is loud with his laughter, free because there aren’t a lot of patrons in the place save for them and another group that is just as loud as his table.

 

“Ah, Hyuk!” Jaehwan is the first to see him, waving manically, and how he doesn’t dislodge his shoulder is a mystery. “You’re finally here!”

 

“I am,” he says, approaching slowly; Jaehwan is obviously there and with Kyungri, his girlfriend. Hongbin, another one of his friends and Youngji, his girlfriend are there too. Another two men – both with tan skin, one with dyed blonde hair, another with black hair – he does not know sit together, and there’s two empty spaces side-by-side, one apparently occupied, judging the half-full glass of wine. He turns to the two unfamiliar people, bowing in greeting. “I’m Han Sanghyuk, I’m sorry I’m late.”

 

The man with black hair smiles kindly at him. “It’s okay. I’m Cha Hakyeon.”

 

“Kim Wonshik,” the other, with blond hair, greets too.

 

“So, Hyuk, I imagine you lost your wallet on your way here, or your cellphone, and maybe your shirt ripped off in the last minute,” Jaehwan teases, supporting his face on his hands. By his side, Kyungri giggles, well acquainted with Sanghyuk’s lack of luck. Hongbin rolls his eyes.

 

“Glad to see my unlucky self amuses you,” Sanghyuk also rolls his eyes, but takes the teasing as it is; he sits in the empty space by the other with the glass of wine. “But no; that idiotic Sungjae dropped a bottle of gel on my hair.”

 

This time all his friends laugh, and Hakyeon and Wonshik blink in confusion. A waiter appears and asks what he’ll want to drink, and after looking around the table – two glasses of wine, one of juice, one of water, a bottle of soju with three glasses – he asks for another glass, so he can drink soju too.

 

“Are you even old enough to drink, Hyuk?” Hongbin mocks, sipping his cup. “Just try not to look directly into the guy’s eyes; then he’ll ask for your ID.”

 

“10,000₩ that he’ll ask for it.”

 

“Knowing Hyuk, 10.000₩ that they’ll bring him strawberry milk or mango juice.”

 

“I’m in,” Kyungri smiles apologetically in his direction. “Sorry Hyuk, but if I were you, I’d have my ID ready.”

 

Youngji giggles. “More like a complain ready for when they bring him banana milk. I’m in too.”

 

“Okay~.”

 

Sanghyuk throws a glare at them. “I hate you all.”

 

“We love you too,” Hongbin smiles, dimples opening holes on his cheeks. He turns to the still confused duo, happy to explain. “This one here is the unluckiest guy I ever has the pleasure to meet.”

 

“Indeed,” Youngji agrees with her boyfriend, ignoring the glare Sanghyuk sustains. “It’s funny how unfortunate he can be, no offense Sanghyukkie.”

 

“None taken,” he pouts, bitter.

 

Hakyeon stares at him curiously. “Is that right? Funny, ‘cause Taek–”

 

“I’m back,” a quiet voice, different from any other Sanghyuk has heard, interrupts Hakyeon. He looks up, and meets the kittenish features of a man; slanted-eyes, bow shaped pink lips, black hair falling on top of his white complexion and two dangling earrings shining silver in his ears. He seems tall, almost as tall as Sanghyuk, and his shoulders are visibly broad, with the collar of the black long-sleeved shirt he wears accentuating the attibute. He’s really handsome, in a weirdly, soft way.

 

“Took you long enough, hyung,” Wonshik raises one eyebrow, side-glancing the newcomer.

 

“A boy bought me a drink,” the cat-like man explains, pushing his hair out of his face. It falls back messily. Charmingly, in Sanghyuk’s opinion. “It was rude to not accept.”

 

“All this luck of yours serves for nothing if you won’t get laid,” Jaehwan has only enough time to say before a spoon flies in his direction, hitting him square on the forehead, despite initially moving to escape the object. “Aw, Taekwoon-hyung!”

 

“You deserved,” the stranger – Taekwoon – says, a light strain of annoyance on his voice. He goes to sit by Sanghyuk’s side, and then stops.

 

“Have some manners, Taekwoon,” Hakyeon huffs like a mother would to a child, “and greet Sanghyuk-ah.”

 

Black eyes fixate on him, and it feels like looking into two bottomless pits; they reflect him, and it is as if an electric current ran through all of Sanghyuk’s nerve endings. The hairs on his arms raise, and his palms feel sweaty, his face hot as fire. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Weirdly enough, Taekwoon stares at him in similar position; wide-eyed and open-mouthed, his prominent cheeks going redder and redder. The air around them tickles with energy and Sanghyuk’s whole body is stiff, glued to its place.

 

 

 

***Luck***

 

 

 

“They’re still staring at each other…” he thinks he hears Wonshik whispering to Hakyeon, and normally that would make him aware of his position, backing off in embarrassment; yet, his body feels oddly frozen in place, and as much as he wants to deviate his eyes from the big, shocked brown eyes he’s staring at, he can’t find strength to do so. His face is burning, and the restaurant is suddenly too hot, the air stifling and making him slightly faint.

 

The boy, Sanghyuk, is cute, with his blue hair – that seems a little too stiff from gel – and brown eyes, framed by a handsome face that has remnants of child-like features clinging to it, like the roundness of his cheeks and the way he tilts his head to the side, similarly to a puppy. What he can from the boy’s body shows long arms and wide shoulders not unlike his own. He's mostly Taekwoon's type, if not a bit too young; he usually prefers the hyungs.

 

“Taekwoon!”

 

He snaps out of it when Hakyeon calls loudly for him; his sudden movement makes his elbow bump on his wine glass on the table. It spills on the floor and on his pants, soaking it, light blue of his jeans turning almost black.

 

Muffled, he hears Hakyeon’s gasp and Wonshik squeak, just as Jaehwan calls for the waiter, voice clearly shaken. All his eyes can see are the stain on his pants.

 

… How… How unlucky.

 

 

 

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So, first chapter of 2, or 3!

Honestly, I didn't expect to take so long in publishing this, but as always, I'm a mess.

But I always wanted to write a Luck, for I love Hyuk and Leo's interactions and the way Sanghyuk simply manhandles my baby Woon so easily~

I hope you guys enjoyed, and if you did, please tell me what you thought of this! A review would make me extremely happy!