“Wow. What a warrior,” Chanyeol said, as Junmyeon slowly entered the room. The landlord glowed with a new radiance, even if he was shuffling along at the pace of a snail and dragging a foot behind the other.

 The three boys were already clustered around a coffee table in Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s new shared apartment, doing absolutely nothing as usual.

 “We commend our fallen soldier,” Baekhyun retorted, stuffing his face full of popcorn. Jongdae followed suit, pouring the burnt kernels into his mouth.

 “I didn’t know you bottomed,” he asked casually, through teeth full of corn.

 “Oh shut up.” Baekhyun elbowed him in the side, earning a shout from the dark haired boy. “You’re a total bottom yourself.”

 “AM NOT!” his friend whined back, crossing his arms.

 “He has a good point,” Chanyeol mused. “Jongdae looks like a switch to me.”

 “No way.” Junmyeon piped up, still limping with great difficulty. “He’s a top. I know it.”

 The other two in the room scrunched up their faces, and before they knew it, Chanyeol, Baekhyun and the temporarily disabled Junmyeon had launched themselves into another meaningless debate about their friend’s life.

 “Look at him. Is he not a ?”

 “It depends, Baek. I mean, if he were dating-”

 “ENOUGH!” Jongdae screamed, clamping his ears tightly.

 Baekhyun’s eyes were getting all shifty, which meant he was exerting massive control to not utter out a dirty joke.

 “I still think he tops,” Junmyeon coughed out.

 The florist rolled his eyes.

 “STOP! Let’s talk about the important stuff.”

 As if there was an invisible cue, everyone leaned in at once.

 “Yessss,” Chanyeol hissed, making Junmyeon recoil.

 “Who’d ya hook up with?”

 The three boys were wide eyed with amazement around him, and Junmyeon felt his head heat up to a hundred degrees in a split second.

 “His name is Yixing.”

 “Who’s that? Is he Chinese?”

 “.......Yes.”

 “How old is he?”

 “GOOD GOD, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?! WE HOOKED UP ONCE AND NOW IT’S LIKE I’M GOING TO A JOB INTERVIEW!”

 “Holy Jesus, you let a stranger shove his dong up your ? You must be desperate.”

 “Hey-hey…..stop it, Baekhyun. You’re making him angry.” Jongdae elbowed his friend, causing the sandy brown colored hair on his head to bounce lightly. He pointed at Junmyeon, who looked traffic-light red, like he was going to implode any second now.

 “We’re happy for you, you know right?” Chanyeol said.

 “We just want to meet this Yixing.”

 “So we’ll know his address and we can beat him up if he ever does you wrong.” Baekhyun flicked his chin in the air.

 Junmyeon hated him a little less now.

 “Of course. I’ll point him out if we ever run into him.”

 He leaned over to grab a handful of the popcorn….and immediately spit it out.

 🍿🍿🍿

 The professor didn’t look too happy when Jongdae his heels to head out the classroom door. The botany lesson had just wrapped up, and the student couldn’t wait to go home and have a relaxing nap, along with finishing the new K-Drama he had started on.

 “Jongdae, come here,” the prof said, gesturing with a yellowed nail.

 “Yes, sir.” He walked over, obediently, knowing better than to question the man.

 His prof was the textbook version of what you would find if you googled professor. His name was Lee Soo-man, but everyone called him SM sir…..if they didn’t call him a flaming heap of egotistic garbage that overworked all his students to the bone. In Jongdae’s opinion, he wasn’t all bad. Sure, he was strict and made up controlling rules, but compared to the other prof YG, he would have taken any other class in a heartbeat.

 According to Chanyeol, the best professors were JYP and the new lecturer, who seemed to be a “big hit” among the students. Jongdae’s contemplation was interrupted by the piercing gaze of his professor, who cleared his throat with dominance.

 As if that was a thing.

 “Do you see this? This is the spreadsheet that my PhD students use to assign grades.” The cursor scrolled down to his name, highlighted in orange.

 “You haven’t handed in anything from this semester. I have nothing to mark.”

 SM clasped his hands together and lowered his gaze at the now terrified student.

 Jongdae had heard that SM would make any student that he dislikes life living hell.

  “Take this as a light warning, or a wakeup call when I say this, because you could very well fail with your lack of work ethic here. I know you are-you were-no, you absolutely are one of the most gifted and bright students in my class, so it’s time you start acting like it.”

 His eyebrows quirked as his arms dropped to his side, not knowing that he was squeezing his backpack straps until his knuckles had turned white.

 It’s not like the professor to let students off the hook so easily.What have I even done to make him think I was the golden boy?

 “That’s all,” SM said gruffly, waving the student away. “Please close the door behind you. I have some important work to do.”

 Jongdae nodded politely, making his way out.

 It was no secret that the professor’s only “work” to do was watching Red Velvet videos at full volume, with unhealthy, uncomfortable levels of thirst.

 🥀🥀🥀

  After the dishes were washed and dried, Jongdae decided to actually get cracking on his work. He had told himself over and over again that he would eventually make time to do it, but there were so many other, better things that he could spend his time on, including but not limited to bawling his eyes out when the grandma in the K-Drama died.

 RIP Great-Auntie Ha-eun. You will be missed.

 Thankfully, Chanyeol had lent him his template for his history project, which was completely unrelated, but Jongdae was just happy to have something to go off of.

 Halfway through his lab report observations, his stomach growled. Apparently that dinner of cheese, potatoes, and cereal wasn’t enough. Setting down his pencil, Jongdae groaned when he realized there was nothing left in his fridge to eat. Without Baekhyun, he had grossly underestimated the amount of groceries he would have to buy each week.

 And then, the spark formed in his head.

 What if I go down to the cafe? They open until late; I could grab a bite and then mooch off the free wi-fi.

 It sounded like a pretty good plan to the starved boy, who was already changing from his comfy clothes(a pair of shrimp patterned boxers, and a graphic t-shirt depicting a dead meme), into something more suitable to go out in(a plain blue shirt under a grey windbreaker, black skinny jeans, and a pair of Vans).

 He checked his reflection one more time in the mirror, smoothing down the stray black curls of hair that were sticking out, and headed downstairs, cradling his binder and laptop in his hand.

 It was barely even 8:00 at night, and the half the street lights were , creating a strange yellow glow on every fourth sidewalk step. The fall wind blew softly around Jongdae, a not quite unwanted draft that carried notes of dirt and a distinct burning aroma of maple.

 Today’s special was Stinging Nettle tea.

 Nobody was standing by the front entrance, as far as he could tell, so the boy craned his neck to peek into the kitchen.

 The last few night stragglers were all dispersed across the cafe tables, people who looked to be respectable authors and business people, and Jongdae felt out of place.

 “I’m telling you, it’s birthday cake-”

 “Birthday cake is not a flavour. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

 “No, but it’s everywhere! It’s on Oreos and ice cream and cupcakes-”

 “You can’t have a birthday cake flavoured cake, Minseok! That’s literally not a thing.”

 “I will do it, Sunny. I will prove you wrong.”

 It took a few seconds for the barista to notice Jongdae, but when he eventually did, his eyes grew wide.

 “Oh, h-hey.” Minseok put down the white mug he was carrying, and stared at the florist up and down, obviously, and shamelessly checking him out. It was almost a parody of when they first met, except the roles were reversed, and Jongdae had no idea why it felt so awkward. He tugged at the sleeve of his windbreaker, silently praying that there was nothing too gross hanging from his face.

 A slight draft blew past him as Sunny rushed around the vicinity, quickly buttoning up her coat and throwing a purse over her shoulder. “Birthday cake is not a flavour,” she asserted, tugging her hair out of the topknot. “My shift was supposed to be over half an hour ago.”

 “Minseok,” she ordered. “You’re working alone today. I don’t think anything too-too bad could happen. Just don’t let the cafe burn down.” Her eyes flickered, then narrowed. “And don’t hand out free food. Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook.”

 Yep, just like last time, Jongdae thought.

 It was like the universe wanted to mock him.

 With one last pointed look, Sunny pulled the glass door behind her. The two boys watched her disappear down the street, before the barista turned, closing the space between them by a few steps.

 “What do you want?” Minseok flinched. He hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh.

 Fortunately, Jongdae seemed oblivious.

 “Don’t listen to her. Birthday cake is totally a thing.”

 “Agreed! Am I right? She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

 “Do you still want your bagels?” Minseok offered, scratching his arm. “You didn’t come in this morning. I saved them in the fridge.”

 “That would be nice. And thank you.”

 “You’re welcome.”

 The bagels were a little stale when he tasted one, but Jongdae didn’t care. He was just happy to be sitting under the cafe lights, eating warm food. The stuff he had brought with him was splayed all over the round table, a mess of papers and a laptop tossed to the side. He stuffed his earphones in, and the lofi-hip hop playlist on his phone.

 Slowly, but surely, the work was getting done. His assignments were more than halfway finished, and the night was still young.

 Maybe, Jongdae thought, just maybe, I can actually do it all and head home in time to get more than six hours of sleep.

 The hours flew by, eight-thirty turning to nine, nine to ten, and eventually, Jongdae stared up at the analog clock on the wall, that read ten-thirty. He pulled out the earbuds, winding them around his finger.

 “Tired?”

 The cafe was completely empty all around him. There was only Minseok, standing at the edge of the bartop, spraying a sea of Lysol onto the counter.

 “Yeah, kinda.” Jongdae let out a suppressed yawn.

 “Me too.”

 The barista gave him a knowing look, scrubbing off the edge of the counter and throwing the wipe in the trash.

 “The cafe was supposed to close half an hour ago.”

 “Oh. I’m-uh...sorry about that.” The chair let out an unpleasant skree as Jongdae quickly stood up, gathering his stuff.

 “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I-I shouldn’t have kept you waiting like this. You probably have somewhere to be-and-and…”

 Minseok quickly shook his head, gesturing for the younger to relax.

 “No, no. Stay as long as you want. It’s really no trouble-no trouble……..at all.”

 Reluctantly, the dark-haired boy sat down, not breaking eye contact until the older turned his back, walking behind the counter with the same white mug in hand.

 “If you’re tired,” the blonde said, “have this. It’ll keep you up.”

 A single leaf shuddered in the water when Minseok set the cup in front of Jongdae.

 “Stinging nettle isn't such a palatable name, is it?”

 “It’s good though.”

 The barista admired the way that Jongdae’s lips turned slightly pink when he slurped through his teeth. He looked blindingly dashing in his windbreaker, both cool and cute at the same time. It was amazing how the boy could pull it off effortlessly.

 “Sunny’s going to kill you for giving this out free.”

 “Doesn’t matter,” Minseok said, then wondered if he should tell Jongdae that the single nettle leaf was hanging out the corner of his mouth, making him look absolutely rude and lovable simultaneously.

 Jongdae’s “done” pile had grown to the same height as his ring finger, which meant he was definitely finished. But he didn’t feel like he was in any rush to get home, so why should he?

 “Here you go,” he said, handing the cup back. Minseok’s fingers brushed against the inside of his wrist as he took the mug, and Jongdae’s skin tingled, causing him to pull back.

 “Oh, sorry.”

 “It’s no big deal.”

 “......Wait.”

 Suddenly, Minseok’s hand shot out of nowhere, and his fingertips brushed against the inside crook of his elbow.

 “Ah!”

 A slow grin spread over the blonde’s face, who bit the corner of his mouth, trying not to laugh. “Are you….ticklish?”

 “.......No!”

 The charcoal-haired boy yelped again, when his friend poked him in the side.

 “Oh, yes you are.”

 It was a sudden move, but Minseok lunged for him from across the table, seizing his arm when Jongdae tried to make a hasty escape.

 “Hey!” the boy cried out, when the barista’s fingers began to scrabble over his arm, creating fluttering sensations in his stomach.

 The florist quickly squirmed away, putting as much distance between him and Minseok as possible. They were both giggling like little children now, and from the outside in, it looked like a game of cat and mouse, with Minseok chasing Jongdae, arms outstretched, and his friend running away all the while, sides shaking from uncontrollable laughter.

 “I’ve got you!” The older backed the younger into a corner and tickled his sides gently.

 “Oh-my-my god….st-stop…..Minseok!” Jongdae swatted his hands away playfully, pink in the face as peals of laughter escaped his lips.

 “Never…” The barista grinned devilishly.

 They weren’t even moving now, both of them had ended up on the floor, falling and crawling over each other as they struggled to breath in between episodes of cracking up. As soon as one would stop laughing, the other would start again, and they would join each other in fits of cackling.

 At least, one of them was cackling.

 My god, Jongdae thought. Even Minseok’s laugh is perfect. He thought his friend looked flawless when his face was scrunched up in pure joy.

 His thoughts were put on hold when the blonde stood up, the same devilish smile making a reappearance as he flittled his fingers in the air.

 “I’m coming for you,” he rasped.

 “Only if you can catch me first.”

 The tickle-fest ensued when Jongdae launched himself onto a cafe table, jumping from one tabletop to another as Minseok chased him on the ground, both of them laughing so hard they thought their sides would split.

 “You’ll never catch me, my Baozi!” The barista blushed at the nickname, shaking his head lightly as Jongdae stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry.

 It was so ridiculous, it made him want to laugh more.

 There was a harsh squeak as the florist’s Vans skidded on the tile floor.

 “Careful there,” Minseok warned, making note of the slippery surface. Jongdae had backed up into the nook where the washrooms were located.

 “Woah…..” His friend grasped his arm with an iron grip to steady himself.

 “W-wo-WOAH!”

 They collided on the floor, heads bumping, elbows smacking and Minseok laying on top of Jongdae, barely touching as he broke his fall with his arms.

 As he leaned in close, Jongdae immediately decided that Minseok smelled like three things:

 1. The scent of spring linen, hung out on a beautiful March afternoon to dry under a bluey sky and pale clouds-

 2. Maple wood, emulating the taostiness of a campfire under a blanket of stars, embers flickering up like the golden flecks in Minseok’s eyes-

 3. The rich aroma of brewed coffee, exotic and dark, all pale cream skin and a sweet heart in the boy that stood before him-

 It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. No cologne, no suffocating perfumes or tobacco smoke.

 Just a curiously pretty barista that gazed at him with amber eyes and a gummy smile.

 “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Minseok waved a hand in front of Jongdae’s face, and he blinked in surprise.

 He wanted to bottle up Minseok’s scent in little jars. It was better than Junmyeon’s basic candles by a mile.

 “Is something wrong?” The blonde boy furrowed his brow in concern, carefully inspecting his friend for injuries.

 “Are you hurt?”

 “No,” Jongdae said, blushing under the barista’s gaze.

 You smell so nice….

 “Thanks,” Minseok muttered, and Jongdae’s eyebrows shot up.

 .

 Did he really HAVE to say that out loud?

 🍃🍃🍃

 After they had picked themselves off the ground, they found themselves sitting together, around the table where Jongdae had messily shoved his stuff together to make space for Minseok.

 The conversation just flowed naturally from there; they talked about everything and anything that came to their mouths.

 Including spilling the tea about their friends.

 “Junmyeon hooked up with some Chinese guy.” Jongdae held his his mug snugly(Minseok had been nice enough to pour him another drink), and shook his head with a slight smile on his face. “I actually can’t believe he would be the kind of guy to do it. He’s always talking to us about going slow and steady.”

 “A Chinese guy?”

 “His name’s like Yi-Yi….something.”

 “Jesus Christ. Yixing?”

 Minseok was going to kill his friend for not telling him earlier.

 “Yixing? The person you were waiting for in the lobby?”

 “The dancer guy. Yeah.”

 Jongdae’s lips widened into an O. “Have you ever had a one-night stand?”

 The question came out less awkward than he would have thought, but Minseok felt his face begin to heat up anyways. The younger thought it was cute, but immediately felt bad for putting him on the spot.

 “No…...I haven’t,” the blonde finally replied. “Have you?”

 Actually, I don’t want to know.

 “Twice. Once was with a girl, where I got really drunk on prom night, the other was with this guy at a bar, about two years ago. I don’t think I’ve had a real relationship in at least three years.”

 Jongdae paused, and caught note of the perplexed expression on Minseok’s face.

 “Oh, and yeah. I’m biual.”

 Great. There’s still hope.

 Something heavy took off from the barista’s chest when the florist looked straight into his eyes and said those words. He knew he was acting like a fourteen-year old, but he couldn’t help it.

 Thankfully, the conversation shifted to complaining endlessly about everything. If Minseok was a natural ranter, Jongdae was just a whining machine.

 The clock had struck midnight but neither of them protested, secretly thinking how nice it was, how nice this was, with the two of them together, doing nothing and everything at once. Even if they were seperated by the tabletop, they never felt closer. Sitting, talking, laughing, like real friends.

 “I’ll refill it for you,” Minseok said, grabbing Jongdae’s empty glass.

 “Thanks.”

 The dark-haired boy slumped down in his chair, exhausted. His papers were completed, albeit forgotten, and it was just so comfortable here, in the warm lighting, with the residual scent of good food- Jongdae’s eyelids fluttered and he let out a deep yawn as he curled up into himself.

 “Jongdae?”

 Minseok rushed over to the boy, sprawled over the chair, completely passed out. He didn’t want to wake him up, with his eyes shut tight, and his arms rested comfortably under his head. Sure, it was creepy, but Minseok didn’t think twice before deciding that he would stay here until he woke up. He took in every detail of Jongdae’s sleeping form(non-creepily, of course);the way his long lashes fluttered just above his rose-tinted cheeks, the rise and fall of his chest.

 The barista found the fluffiest kitchen towel he could, and brought it back to the dining area, to drape his friend in the soft white material.

 How can he be so unbearably endearing? Minseok thought.

 💤💤💤

 “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

 Jongdae groaned, eyes still closed.

 “No, no….no,” he muttered, blindly, as he set his head back down, and flinched. It hit wood, and he immediately snapped his eyes open, squinting to get his pupils to adjust to the light.

 Where was he?

 His mind raced with all the possibilities.

 Where did he go before he fell asleep?

 The cafe. Did I go home? Then, how did I get home? I can’t remember! If I didn’t go home, that means that…

 Jongdae’s vision suddenly sharpened, then focused as he sat up, shrugging off the white towel that had somehow been wrapped around him.

 What the hell?

 “You’re awake.” Minseok looked up at him with those big dark eyes, sprinkled with golden flecks-

 Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.

 “What time is it?” Jongdae rubbed his eyes crankily. He couldn’t believe this.

 “Almost four-o’clock in the morning.”

 Oh, no.

 The younger scrambled off the chair, gathering his stuff in one hand as he fumbled towards the door with another.

 How was this happening?

 He fell asleep in the cafe, and Minseok didn’t even bother to kick him out or wake him up. His face began to heat up as he pictured the barista tucking him in.

 “I’m sorry,” Jongdae muttered, rushing towards the door. “I’m sorry I kept you up all night-”

 “No, really. It’s fine. It’s okay.”

 “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

 “I-I don’t know? You just looked so comfortable there, and so peaceful that I didn’t bother….”

 “Then why did you stay here all night?”

 He sounded almost angry, and Minseok’s expression softened. “Jongdae, I wasn’t going to leave you there….why would I do that?”

 The dark haired boy took a step for the exit and almost fell forwards. At least, he thought he fell forwards.

 Maybe I’m just swooning.

 “I’m just-just sorry that this happened,” he choked out, suddenly feeling overwhelmed for no reason.

 “It’s fine.”

 His eyes...his cheeks...his hair...

 Jongdae shut the door behind him as he left in a panic, putting one foot in front of another until he reached the apartment elevators.

 A finger pecked at the buttons, while he rested his head against the chrome metal.

 Curse Minseok. Curse those breathtaking eyes, curse those adorable cheeks, curse his softness. Curse him.

 He couldn’t wait to fall asleep and forget about the whole situation.