After moping in bed for much of the day and resisting the urge to rush right back into the cafe, Jongin showers and dresses up a bit with a white button down paired with dark denim jeans. It’s Saturday, which means it’s a good day to make friends and avoid a soulmate, he decides. The party Chanyeol invited him to ends up being at a fancy apartment own by a guy named Junmyeon. Jongin double checks he’s at the right address and texts Yeol once he’s standing outside the luxurious high rise to see if he’s already inside. He gets an enthusiastic Yeah, get your up here! in reply and nervously makes his way through the lobby.

It’s an intimate gathering rather than a raver, which is nice. The liquor is already flowing, and Jongin settles in with a whiskey sour. Aside from Chanyeol and Baekhyun, it’s just Junmyeon and a girl named Irene hanging out. To his surprise, his own roommate shows up a few minutes later, yanking off his tie as he walks through the door.

“Saturday night, and my boss asks me to stay until 10pm. This internship is such b.s.,” Minseok bemoans, slamming back a shot of vodka on the bar that Junmyeon had poured for himself. His spies Jongin out of the corner of his eye and turns in surprise. “Hey roomie - what are you doing here?”

Introductions and explanations go around. The five of them grew up together on the outskirts of Gangnam. While Jongin ought to feel like an outsider, given how much history the group shares, he really doesn’t. They’re all gracious to include him in conversation. (And the drinks steadily being served by bartender Junmyeon certainly help.)

It’s approaching midnight when Jongin’s tipsy enough that his mouth starts asking the questions that have been lodged in his heart all day. “Baekhyun, tell me. Did you ever wanna date someone other than Chanyeol?”

The boy is sitting on Chanyeol’s knee, and turns to pat his cheek. “Naw, I was only ever interested in this hunk right here. Dumbo ears and all,” he teases, playfully yanking on the one closest to him and laughing at Yeol’s yelp.

“Don’t stretch them, they’re big enough already!” he mock pouts until Baek is giving his lobe a dainty kiss to ‘make it all better.’

“What about you?” Jongin turns the question onto Chanyeol.

“Hmmm, there was this one girl who I thought was really pretty when I was thirteen, does that count? I never felt any urge to act on it, though.”

“Who?” Baekhyun asks accusingly, giving his mate a titty twister. Jongin catches Irene behind the bar suppressing a laugh, and she puts a finger over her lips, making a shhh sign at him. Junmyeon notices their exchange and makes an X sign with his arms with a warning head shake. Jongin grins and nods in understanding. He likes how willing they are to let him in on their inside secrets.

“It doesn’t matter, Baekkie, because I’ve only ever wanted you, my sweet soulmate,” Chanyeol coos at him, nuzzling his jaw and hugging him closer.

“So you never wanted to date other people either, once you met? Not before nor after you knew you were soulmates?” Jongin continues, leaning forward.

“What’s with the mate questions tonight?” Chanyeol asks, looking at him curiously. “You’re not normally so inquisitive about things. But no, one lunch in the cafeteria with him over soggy gimbap, and I was sold. My eyes have never strayed.”

Baekhyun leans down and gives him a loud kiss in approval.

“Those two have always been disgusting. It’s best to ask no questions and just look away,” Minseok advises.

“Look out, here comes Mr. Doom and Gloom,” says Baek, sticking his tongue out.

“I’m not doom and gloom just because I don’t much care for the mystical soulmate stuff and waiting for lightning to strike.” The analogy catches Jongin’s attention and he thumbs over the butterfly currently imprinted on his wrist. “I see nothing wrong with dating around with whomever catches my interest.”

“Oh you’re so enlightened,” Irene mocks with an eyeroll. Turning to Jongin, she tattles with a smile. “The truth is, he has no standards.”

“He was the resident high school ,” Junmyeon explains. “If you so much as said hi to him, he’d turn on his bedroom eyes and see if you’d take the bait.”

Jongin looks incredulously at his neat, hard-working roommate who has always seemed so proper. Shamelessly, Minseok waggles his eyebrows at him before breaking into a laugh. “Don’t worry - I’d never have a one night stand with a roommate. I mean, that kinda makes it impossible to sneak off in the morning. Where am I gonna go?”

“Wait, so all the times I thought you were just stuck pulling a night shift??”

“Well, not all the times. I do work late fairly often. Just not that often.”

Chanyeol laughs. “Oh no, we’ve scarred Jongin. Get him another whiskey sour, quick! Drink til you forget what you know about Minnie’s late night activities!”

The friends devolve into bickering and good-natured teasing about each other’s vices, eagerly sharing dirt with Jongin. They’re like one happy, dysfunctional family, with a long record of harmless secrets to help embarrass each other in new company. Jongin loves it.

As the evening winds down, he and Minseok decide to head back together. Jongin thanks Junmyeon for his hospitality. Yeol corrects him, saying he should thank Junmyeon’s daddy for spoiling his little rich kid. With a swift kick in the pants, Junmyeon clears Chanyeol out of his home and everyone else follows, saying goodbyes.

“You know, they like to tease me about not caring to find a soulmate. But honestly: what’s the point in worrying about it?” Minseok drunkenly philosophizes on their walk back to the dorm. “If it’s fate, it’ll happen, right? So just… date who you wanna date, Jongin. That’s what I say.” Minseok nods to himself, as if reaffirming his choices even absent the approval of others.

The advice buzzes through Jongin’s system along with the whiskey. He mulls it over.

---

Terrified as he is, Jongin finds that he can’t avoid the cafe. He’s too drawn to the comfort of being there; it’s like a second home. Over the next week, he visits daily, making it part of his afternoon routine. He discovers that Monday is Kyungsoo’s day off, and (unsurprisingly) he is most productive on this day. His chemical models on the blackboard are all gone now. At least, that’s what he thinks. Then he notices that his regular booth is in a slightly different position than usual. When he scooches the pleather booth back to its original spot, he discovers one dopamine model that was hidden by the back rest.

Not hidden: protected. Jongin smiles, heart warming at who likely did this. He moves the booth forward again, keeping it their little secret, protected from getting erased by the bustling world around them.

He works problem sets and branches out to different types of coffee. Black, no sugar: disgusting. Jongdae laughs at his grimace, takes the cup away, and comes back with a cafe au lait. It’s decidedly more palatable, though not his favorite.

He orders a cappuccino from Kyungsoo the next day and waits at the counter, watching him prepare it while they discuss superhero movies from the summer. Jongin delights in how passionate Kyungsoo gets over movies, especially foreign films. His big eyes brighten with excitement and seem to stare directly into Jongin’s soul as he recounts the merits of the cinematography in a Japanese film he’s never heard of. The barista is slow to finish up his drink, drawing an intricate abstract pattern in the foam, adding a dusting of cinnamon on top, then re-swirling the powder into the design. It feels like it’s on purpose. A guise to keep them talking longer. (As if Jongin wouldn’t stay planted there all day to listen to that velvety voice just because.) He leans his elbows on the counter and watches the attractive arch of Kyungsoo’s eyebrows as he animatedly comments on the use of color in a dramatic Italian film.

He gets very little done, in terms of academic progress, that day. The cappuccino is delicious.

The week continues in the same manner: Jongin occasionally runs into Chanyeol at the cafe and works with him at the table, but on days when it’s just him, he hangs out more and more at the counter. By the end of the second week, he’s discussed the entire history of American cinema with Kyungsoo and knows his favorite films from each era, but despite his conscious efforts to chat with Jongdae, too, he had only learned the guy had an older brother and preferred music to movies.

Truth be told, Jongin also preferred music to movies, usually. But not when he looks at movies through Kyungsoo’s eyes. He’s spoken less and less with Sehun in the late evenings, getting engrossed in Kyungsoo’s recommended films, which often require subtitles and therefore his total concentration.

Sehun teases him good-naturedly about it. “I’m losing you, dickhead. To a barista and foreign studs in indie flicks. Feels bad, man.”

“I can’t replace you. You’re like that annoying birthmark on my : no matter how much I want it to fade, it’s still there,” Jongin ribs.

“Speaking of marks, update me on your thoughts about these signals.”

They’ve been appearing more frequently these days, almost daily now. But the subject matter has been all over the map. There’s no cohesive link between them that he can discern, aside from them each relating to Jongdae, he supposes. There was a cat caricature that looked sorta like the barista, the day after he heard an ahjumma complimenting Jongdae’s ‘kitten curls smile.’ He’s even had one with words show up: Milky Ways, written in elegant script. He’s unsure what to make of that one.

“You didn’t text me one yesterday nor today. Are you experiencing a lull?” Sehun asks carefully.

He didn’t text yesterday’s tattoo because it was a . A literal, erect , with so much detail that Jongin fell out of bed blushing when he first laid eyes on it. He covered his wrist with gauze, just for peace of mind, and claimed he was having carpal tunnel pain when Minseok asked about it. He still visited the cafe, but stuck to his booth for much of the day, unable to meet Jongdae’s eyes when he came to take his order.

“No, no lull. Just forgot to snap the picture. It was a fig leaf yesterday,” he lies. Sehun would never let the pic go if he knew.

“Well, I know how things are going with Eyebrows. What about with Thunder?”

“It’s… still okay. We’re kinda friends by now, I think? I mean, we get along fine and even have an inside joke, but it’s just him throwing random crap at me at unpredictable times to see if I catch it.”

“What’s the score thus far?”

“Me 12, Jongdae 4.” He’s become a master at snagging sugar packets and silverware, but stirrers always manage to fly past his hands and smack him in the face, much to the barista’s amusement.

“Guy’s either got a weak arm or is letting you win because he likes you. You were always at baseball in gym class.”

“Oh, like you were Oh-Se-Canseco. You’re just bitter because I always eluded your dodgeball throws.”

“That’s only because you’re so agile from years and years of dance lessons. And the fact that I have a bountiful booty with more surface area to hit than your flat .”

“Excuses, Hunnie. Lame excuses.” They lapse into silence, and Jongin turns over on his bed to clutch his pillow before revealing his actual concerns. “I’ve been thinking. What if… what if I’m Jongdae’s soulmate, but he’s not mine?” It’s something he’s been worried about for awhile, but hasn’t had the courage to say aloud.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe fate’s wires got all tangled up, so we don’t actually match like we’re supposed to. Like I’m getting his signals because I’m what he needs in his life... but someone else is who I really need in mine?”

“Like some kind of soulmate love triangle? That’s pretty ed up, Jingo.”

“Well… I was pretty ed up after my dad died.” Jongin has always known that terrible day changed his life permanently; Soulmate education day only confirmed he lost not only his father but also his soulmate in one fell swoop. “When one partner suffers a major trauma so deep that it dramatically changes him...”

“Have you talked to your mom lately?” Sehun’s underlying question is clear. Does she know about the signals?

“Only briefly.” No.

“It’s only 9pm. Maybe you should give her a call. Tell her that her second-son says hello.”

“Okay, annoying brother I never wanted.”

“Whatever, you love me.”

Sehun hangs up, but Jongin tells the disconnected line anyway. “I do…”

He sits up in bed to lean against the wall and think. He glances at the family portrait in a small, black frame on his desk. It’s his favorite photo of his family, intact. They’re at a carnival with a big ferris wheel and crowds of happy people wandering in the background. Jongin stands between his mom and dad, holding a cotton candy bear and sporting a huge grin. His father has a hand on Jongin’s right shoulder and beams at his mother, who is mid-laugh with a flower Jongin had picked for her tucked behind one ear. They were so happy. Life was perfect.

A bus unexpectedly barreling its way through a busy crosswalk stole that childhood bliss.

Jongin turns his phone end over end out of nervous habit. He’s unsure if he’s okay with dredging up painful memories in his mom. But she’d want to know about this, about the signals. She’ll probably be really excited, actually. Maybe too excited. What if it’s a bad idea, to give her false hope when things might not be… orthodox with respect to this seemingly messy match? He sighs and thumps his head against the wall, before deciding to dial her anyway.

“Hi, mom.”

“Jonginnie! It’s about time I hear from you,” she exclaims. The conversation takes off at once, with a barrage of information sharing from both sides, about his classes and her book club and if he’s been eating healthy. Naturally, his mom asks if he’s made any new friends.

“Yeah. Yeah, I have… but I wanted to ask you about… about soulmates.” He’s cautious as he continues. “I’m starting to wonder if I’m going to match with someone properly.”

She hums lightly. “I think everyone worries about