Hyukjae gets through the rest of the day in a daze. He barely registers what’s happening in his classes (which is bad, considering one of them is a clinical practice), and practically moves on autopilot back home.

When he gets home, he immediately drops his bag on the ground and makes his way to the couch. Yesung is already there, the TV on and playing some basketball game that Hyukjae doesn’t really care about. Hyukjae picks up a cushion, smashes his face onto it, and screams his lungs out. 

When he’s finally done, he drops the cushion before flopping onto the couch himself, exhausted. 

“Did that help?” Yesung asks. 

“A little,” Hyukjae says. “Not enough. I need—there has to be something I can do. Like can I call the police, or—”

“Hyukjae,” Yesung cuts him off, a hand on his shoulder and his voice serious. “You can’t.”

“Or I could—what?” Hyukjae stops when Yesung’s statement sinks in. “What do you mean I can’t?”

“I mean,” Yesung says. “You need to take a deep breath and think about this rationally for a second. You don’t know Donghae. You might think you do, but you don’t. Nor do we have evidence beyond what we've seen, and you don’t know anything about his situation. Taking action without any information could very well just make things worse for him.”

“We can’t just do nothing,” Hyukjae says.

“Not nothing,” Yesung says. “Just be his friend, yeah? I think that would be very valuable to him.”

Hyukjae clenches his jaw—he wants to do more.

“Being his friend is the most you can do, right now," Yesung says. Hyukjae closes his eyes and forces himself to take a few deep breaths to clear his mind. The breaths he takes do work to calm his racing heart, but then the images of those bruises are back in his mind and he’s back to enraged.

The only experience he has with any kind of possible abuse scenarios was in a social work course he had taken in his third year of university. It has been almost two years since then, and all Hyukjae really remembers are the proper steps to take in order to report a possible abuse case. Back then, Hyukjae hadn’t paid much attention—this was a scenario that happened to other people, and he never really considered what he would do if he was placed in the scenario.

Like now.

The information he had learned had been clinical. Straightforward. But Yesung raises a good point, this situation is nuanced and uncertain. Hyukjae has nothing: no experience, no evidence, and no resources to help Donghae. Anything he might do could possibly make things worse. 

“You’re right,” he says eventually. 

“Of course I am,” Yesung says. “I’m always right.”

Hyukjae snorts. “Okay, don’t flatter yourself too much.”

Yesung tosses his hair out of his eyes and stands, clapping Hyukjae on the shoulder. 

“Whatever you choose to do, I know you’ll do well,” he says, and Hyukjae nods. 

He can do this.

He'll be Donghae's friend, the best he possibly can, because that's what Donghae needs. 

⸺

Donghae doesn't show up at the coffee shop the next day. Hyukjae had expected as much, but he can't help but be disappointed nonetheless. At the end of his shift, he goes to the back room and grabs Donghae's clothes. They're dry but wrinkled and stiff, so he takes them home and launders them. 

("Oh, so you won't do your own laundry, but you'll do his, I see where your priorities lie," Yesung says when he catches Hyukjae. Hyukjae mumbles some half-hearted excuse and Yesung snorts. "You're fooling nobody, Hyuk.")

He folds the clothes to the best of his abilities (which is not well, but it's the thought that counts, right) and puts them in a reusable bag. He doesn't know how to deal with the coat, but he puts it on a hanger along with the bag of washed clothes, ready for Donghae to pick up when he comes back.

But Donghae doesn't show up the day after that either. Or the day after that.

Hyukjae keeps one eye on the door every single day, waiting for Donghae's familiar figure to enter, only to be let down when it doesn't happen.

He's starting to feel a little like Pavlov's dog, except instead of drooling when the bell rings, his head snaps up so hard his neck is starting to hurt. If it’s around the time Donghae normally comes to the shop, he will look up without fail if someone walks in.

Just like right now.

The door chimes and Hyukjae's head snaps up at the sound. His face falls when he sees that it isn't Donghae, but then he reassesses and raises an eyebrow at Ryeowook, who is making his way to the counter.

"Wow, Yesung was right," Ryeowook says, folding his hands on the white marble and resting his chin on it.

"Right about what?"

"Right about you moping," Ryeowook says. "He said the object of your affection hasn't been coming around lately so you've been… well, moping."

Hyukjae feels a flare of panic in his gut at the possibility of Yesung oversharing. But the Ryeowook continues: "Don't worry, he'll be back. You might stick your foot in your big, fat mouth most of the time, but I'm sure he's just off doing something else."

Hyukjae breathes a sigh of relief. Then he leans over, flicking Ryeowook on the forehead. He laughs when Ryeowook yelps, flinching back.

"Are you calling my mouth big and fat?" Hyukjae says, mock offended. Ryeowook rubs his forehead.

"Rude!" he cries. "Just for that, I won't give you the cookies I made!" He holds up a bag of chocolate chip cookies.

Hyukjae's face immediately falls "No. Give me those." He reaches for them, but Ryeowook quickly backs up, ensuring the cookies are out of reach. Hyukjae growls, Ryeowook’s cookies are one of the best-tasting things on the planet, and he will not be deprived of them.

"Okay, okay," Ryeowook says, laughing. "Just apologize and they're all yours."

"I'm sorry," Hyukjae bites out.

"Ah, so disingenuous," Ryeowook says, but hands the ziplock bag of cookies over. Hyukjae grabs them, muttering thanks as he opens the bag. He’s about to take a cookie when the door chimes.

His head snaps up and his eyes widen when he sees Donghae walk into the door. 

"Oh, so that's Donghae," Hyukjae vaguely hears Ryeowook mutter under his breath. He ignores Ryeowook (who smoothly makes his exit, wisely knowing that Hyukjae was no longer free to talk to him anymore), instead opting to give Donghae a wide smile, waving at the man.

Donghae hesitates, but he offers a small, timid smile back.

"Small latte, right?" Yesung asks when Donghae makes it to the cash register. When Donghae nods, Hyukjae begins making the drink.

When he finishes, he blinks down at his drink. It feels strange, to just offer Donghae a mug without a note. It only takes him a second to decide his next course of action. He fishes out a cookie from the bag Ryeowook had given to him. Then he grabs the post-it note pad and begins to write.

Dear Donghae,

My friend made these cookies and he's looking for feedback! What do you think?

Also, what is 3/7 chicken, 2/3 cat and 2/4 goat?

-Lee Hyukjae :)

He wraps the cookie in a napkin, tucks it on the plate, sticks the note on the napkin, and places the drink on the counter.

"Donghae," he calls, and the man steps forward. 

"Thank you," Donghae says quietly. Hyukjae watches as Donghae makes his way to the back corners taking in his white knit sweater and slacks. 

He looks incredibly soft, and all Hyukjae wants to do is wrap the man in a blanket and just… hug him.

"That went well," Yesung says. Hyukjae scowls, using the towel draped on his shoulder to whip Yesung across the .

"Shut up," he says.

"What, I was complimenting you!"

"Don't sound so surprised, you idiot!"

"Given your inability to socialize with people you find attractive, I feel like I'm perfectly justified in being surprised at how well that went," Yesung says, snatching the towel out of Hyukjae's grasp. “Don’t crucify me for the truth.”

Hyukjae pouts.

“For that, I won’t give you my notes for this week.”

“What?” Yesung says. “You know how much I need those notes.”

“Yes,” Hyukjae says. “Which is why it’s the best punishment for making fun o