Taeyong doesn’t see much of Johnny over the course of the next week. He’s busy reworking the menu for the bakery with his parents, and teaching them some of his new recipes. Taeyong doesn’t mind; he’s got his hands full helping his parents with normal shop business while they fill the order for the funeral bouquets. He’s in the middle of making a few protective charms—simple jar spells, when the door of the shop opens with a light ring of the bell. Taeyong looks up from his work to see Johnny.

“Hey,” he says. “You busy? Do you want to come to the market with me? I want new spices.”

Taeyong smiles. “One sec,” he says, melting a little wax over a flame and drizzling it over the corked bottle. “I’ll pick up some herbs while we’re there.” He sets the spoon aside, cleaning out the excess wax before it cools, and stands. 

“What’re you making?” Johnny asks curiously as they step outside.

“Protection charms,” Taeyong replies. “Nothing too crazy. It’s for a family of tourists who are passing through. I guess they heard about us from locals or something.”

“That’s really cool.” Johnny’s eyes shine. “I never really got the feel for magic, even though my mom tried to teach me.”

Taeyong gives him a pointed look. “You’re insanely good at cooking. That’s its own magic.”

“I suppose so.” 

The market is a little quieter today; it’s the middle of the week, so there aren’t a whole lot of outsiders about, and it’s a little overcast today, so most people haven’t wandered out of their homes or their shops. A few familiar shopkeepers wave their hellos, and Taeyong and Johnny wave and bow back. They head to the spice stall, and Taeyong mulls over the dried rosemary and sage bundles while Johnny sticks his face in open baskets of cinnamon and cardamom and star anise. He giggles when Johnny jerks his head back suddenly, turning to sneeze into his elbow. 

“,” he mutters fondly, showing the worker at the stall the herbs he wanted and handing over his money. “You know what all of those spices smell like.”

“Some I can only identify by smell,” Johnny says sheepishly as the other worker helps him package what he needs.

When they’re all set, they stop quickly to get honey for Taeyong, and then they’re on their way back to their stores. They walk in sweet, amiable silence, pausing to pet a dog that comes up to them before continuing on down the street.

“Hey,” Johnny says when they reach the front door of his bakery. “Tonight, are you free? I want to go for a drive. Maybe end up at Jaehyun’s.”

Taeyong gives him a grin. “Yeah, I’m free. Does Jaehyun know about this plan?”

“I’ll text him,” Johnny says with a laugh. “Make it incredibly clear that we are there to see Sugarfoot and Lacey, and definitely not his .”

“Don’t know how easily he’ll buy that, considering Sugarfoot kicked you the last time you saw her, but okay,” Taeyong says. “I’ll see you around eight then, after dinner?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Johnny waves at him as he pushes the door of his shop open, and Taeyong waves back before crossing the street.

= = =

Taeyong snatches a light jacket at his mother’s bidding, bottle of cider in his other hand, as Johnny honks from the road. He promises he’ll be back in a few hours, then closes the door behind him, shoving his feet into his shoes hurriedly and scampering down the path.

The sun is setting, but Johnny has sunglasses on, his windows rolled down, sleeves of his white t-shirt rolled up. Taeyong hops into the passenger seat, throwing his jacket in the back and cradling the bottle of cider. 

“What’d Jaehyun say?” he asks as Johnny turns the car around and heads toward the hills.

“I said, ‘Can Taeyong and I come over to hang out with Sugarfoot and Lacey and definitely not our childhood friend?’ and he said, ‘miss you too, see you tonight,’ so.” Johnny shrugs. “Clearly he’s very unenthused.”

Taeyong laughs. Jaehyun is an old, old friend of theirs, and his parents have a sprawling property that they use as a farm. They have two horses—Sugarfoot, mean and bratty, and Lacey, an absolute angel. Naturally, Johnny loves Sugarfoot because she doesn’t love him back. They always used to joke Johnny would get hanahaki for Sugarfoot—long before they’d faced the realities of the disease.

Jaehyun’s parents were planning to move away to retire within the next year, which leaves the farm to Jaehyun. Luckily, Jaehyun is strong and loves the work, so they’re leaving it in good hands.

“Oh, also,” Johnny continues. “You know the spare room above the bakery, upstairs? I’m going to clean it out and live there instead of in my parents’ house. I just feel like I’m too old to live with them—no offense,” he adds quickly when Taeyong gives him a hurt look. “I just want a little independence. I guess being away from home for so long changed me.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes. “Your year abroad did not change you in the slightest. You sound like a racist white girl.”

“That’s so rude. You asked if I’d been working out! Clearly, it did change me!” Johnny fends off Taeyong’s half-hearted punches. “Anyway, my point is if you ever want to come hang out, or stay the night, you’re perfectly welcome. That is, if you stop punching me.”

“It’s a deal,” Taeyong agrees, hands returning to his lap.

They are away from houses now; open fields blur by as Johnny presses on the gas. Warnings or threats to be more careful die in Taeyong’s throat. He trusts Johnny. He’ll get them there in one piece, and it’s kind of nice, the wind in Taeyong’s hair. He can’t help but laugh, and Johnny starts laughing, too.

“I’ve missed driving,” Johnny confesses. “It was the worst part of being away. I couldn’t just go for a drive whenever I started feeling restless. Well,” he amends with a sideways glance at Taeyong. “It was the worst part of being away other than missing you.”

Taeyong is grateful for the growing dark, because for some reason it makes him blush. “I missed you too,” he says delicately. “Take your sunglasses off, or you’re gonna get us killed.”

“Yes, mom,” Johnny says, one hand leaving the steering wheel to push them back through his hair so that they’re perched on top of his head. Taeyong watches, and can’t help thinking he looks handsome, golden sunset dancing off his skin.

They arrive at Jaehyun’s as the last of the sun fades on the horizon. Jaehyun is out front, playing with one of his dogs, and he waves when they get out of the car.

“We come bearing gifts,” Taeyong calls to him, holding the cider bottle up in the air so he can see. “How are you?”

“I’m good!” Jaehyun jogs over to them, accepting the bread Johnny s into his arms. “It’s good to see you, Johnny. And I haven’t heard from you in a while, Taeyong. Everything okay?”

Taeyong nods. “Yeah, shop’s just been busy. A girl… a girl died, and we got a large order for bouquets.”

“Oh.” Jaehyun purses his lips as he takes the cider bottle from Taeyong and gestures for them to follow him. “Did you know her?”

“No,” Taeyong says. “She’s a lot younger than us. It was… it was hanahaki. White lilies.”

“Ah,” Jaehyun says, probably thinking what Taeyong had thought when his mother first told him. If he is, he doesn’t mention it, though. “That’s the first death this year. The first in a few, actually, right? Well, it’s the worst reason to be busy, but busy alone isn’t bad, hm?”

“No,” Taeyong agrees.

“How are things here?” Johnny asks, trying to steer the conversation somewhere happier. “You look well.”

“It’s been so good, taking over some of the day-to-day,” Jaehyun says, pushing his front door open with his hip. “I’ll miss my parents, of course, but I think it’s going to be fun, to run this place.”

“It suits you,” Johnny says.

“And I think my parents will be happy in retirement. No large animals to care for. Myself included,” he adds with a light laugh. “One sec, let me put this away—thank you both very much, by the way—and then we can go see the horses.” Jaehyun puts the bread on the counter, and then slots the cider away in the fridge. He leads them out to the barn, where both horses are snacking away, tails swishing.

Taeyong watches Johnny get reacquainted with Sugarfoot, smile dancing across his lips, staying back by the door with Jaehyun. 

“It’s good to have him back,” Jaehyun says quietly.

“Yes,” Taeyong agrees. “I was worried he’d go… and he’d just stay.“

Jaehyun smiles. “He’s too in love with this place to do that,” he says. “And he’s got the biggest heart in the world. He’d miss us too much.”

Johnny yelps, and both of them snap their heads in his direction, worried. But he’s fine—Sugarfoot has her nose in his neck, and he’s giggling from how it tickles. Taeyong lets his gaze linger, holding back laughter, before turning back to Jaehyun.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks when he finds Jaehyun’s eyes on him.

“Sugarfoot missed him a lot, I guess. You missed him a lot, too, didn’t you?” is all he says in return, and Taeyong doesn’t know how to respond to that.

After a little, Jaehyun ushers them outside, where the stars are coming up, and the moon is rising. He spreads a blanket on the lawn and they lie shoulder to shoulder, Johnny gushing that he missed the night skies so much. Taeyong and Jaehyun quiz him on the constellations for an hour as the moon climbs in the sky, the clouds clearing away as it gets later.

Johnny is warm against Taeyong’s side, and it’s welcome now, the cool breeze dancing across Taeyong’s skin and raising little goosebumps with its delicate touch. He snuggles closer on instinct, and Johnny just wraps an arm around him, holding him close. It’s so comfortable and easy, and he thinks about what Jaehyun said. He knew he’d missed Johnny, but he supposes he didn’t really know how much. He’d engulfed himself in his work when Johnny left, so it made sense that he was only now discovering how lonely he’d been.

After a while, he insists they go home. “It’s getting late,” he says, when Jaehyun protests. “I know you’re an early riser. And I don’t want Johnny driving when he’s too tired. It’s dangerous enough in the dark.”

“Yeah, get home safe,” Jaehyun says, waiting for them to stand so he can shake off the blanket. “Thank you again for the food. Come by more often! Maybe I’ll host a dinner or something sometime.”

“That would be nice,” Johnny says. “We could get all our old friends together—all the ones that still live here, anyway.”

“I don’t know if you want that many noisy people in your house, but I won’t stop you.” Taeyong shakes his head.

They wave goodbye, and Johnny pulls away from Jaehyun’s gate and into the night. He turns on the radio, and Taeyong is lulled by the sound of Johnny’s soft voice, smoothing the static. He watches the movement of Johnny’s lips through lidded eyes, the working of his throat. Johnny catches him looking and gives him a charming smile, and Taeyong’s stomach does a flip.

“What?” Johnny asks, tilting his head.

“Tomorrow,” Taeyong chooses to say. “If it’s nice and you’re not busy, or the day after, if it’s not. Let’s go to the beach. We can have a picnic.”

“Absolutely.” Johnny’s smile is bright and full of anticipation. 

Too soon, they pull up in front of Taeyong’s house. The lights are off inside already, but Taeyong can’t feel guilty. They’re still for a moment in the car, and some strange, terrible feeling washes over him and mixes with his weariness from the long day. It collects in his chest, in his throat. Johnny’s looking at him but almost sort of looking through him, and Taeyong’s looking back, frozen. Johnny’s beautiful in the moonlight. The feeling in Taeyong’s chest grows, and he trembles.

And then Johnny just reaches out and pats his arm, eyes focusing back on him. “Go straight to bed, okay?” he says.

Taeyong smiles. “Yes, mom.” He opens the car door and swings one leg out. “Get home safe.”

“I live down the street, Taeyong,” Johnny says, chuckling to himself. “I’ll be fine.”

“Goodnight.” Taeyong closes the door then bends to wave so that Johnny can see him through the window. He takes a couple steps toward his house, and then stops to watch him drive off.

Taeyong sluggishly gets himself ready for bed, throwing his clothes in a pile on the floor, taking a cursory shower, and tugging on a nightshirt. He’s suddenly exhausted, and he doesn’t know why. The feeling in his chest hasn’t gone away, either.

He’s about to settle into bed and turn off the lights, having received a text from Johnny that he is, in fact, home safe, when he starts coughing, violently. It’s almost like when he was little and he had pertussis; he’s drawing in huge breaths of air and hacking them back out, the force of it reverberating in his lungs. He covers his mouth with his hands, doubled over, and feels something hit his palms.

As quickly as the coughing bout hit him, it dissipates, leaving him shaking in his room, cupping three pale, yellow petals. He doesn’t have to check an almanac or Google to know what they are. Narcissus pseudonarcissus. Wild daffodil. A strain of daffodil native to Western Europe, almost weed-like, but a daffodil all the same. In Japanese hanakobota , representative of unrequited love.

Taeyong could have cried, maybe, as he holds his death in his own hands. To have the flower be so fitting! It’s like the universe wants to drive it home. But, he realizes numbly, as he wraps the petals in a tissue and buries them in the trash, somewhere in the back of his mind he had a feeling he would die this way. Because you want to die for love, you always have . Richard Siken. He always has. And now, he will.

It puts a wry smile on his lips.

===============================================

(A/N) thank u for reading! pls check out my other works ^^ tumblr here, buy me a coffee here~

hope ur all staying safe n healthy! (jaehyun voice: selfy!)