The squawking call of the seagulls floated through the open window of Artist’s Choice, accompanied by the distant sound of the waves rushing to the shore. The salty air seeped into the room with the dwindling sunlight, and for half a second, Minho thought about closing the window before the chilly night set in. Absently, he wiped the paint off of his fingers and onto his shirt as he glanced outside.

It had been a quiet day. Just a few stragglers coming in to inspect his work. One measly tourist—a bit early for them, really…summer was still a few weeks away from officially being here—but she didn’t buy anything. Sooyoung, the baker from next door, had dropped in, laden with fresh pastries that she insisted he take.

Sighing, he picked up his brush again, dabbing it in his mixture of Prussian blue and white with the tiniest hints of alizarin crimson and burnt umbre and leaned forward to finish up the shadows in the storm clouds he was painting.

He was looking forward to summer. He loved it even before he moved to Jeju, which, here, meant an influx of customers and thriving business. He loved the warm breezes and the clear skies. Even the rain was warm when it fell.

Hm. Maybe he should add rain to this.

He sat back a little, inspecting his work. It was a simple beach scene based on a picture he took a few weeks back. One that would sell for any price he set once the tourists rolled in. People always loved to bring a bit of the beach back home with them, no matter the cost.

But, would anyone want a painting of the beach with rain? Hm, probably not.

He swished his brush in the paint-muddied water, switching his attention to detailing the seafoam on the crest of the waves.

No one else came in before he closed for the night. His keys jingled at his side after he locked the door behind him and started to stroll along the boardwalk. Instinctively, he turned to look out at the sea, his gaze following a couple as they chased after their barking dog. He smiled to himself as he turned away, letting his feet carry him past the other seaside shops.

Sooyoung greeted him with a wave as she flipped her sign around to closed, Jinki wasn’t behind the counter of his used bookstore, but the sign wasn’t flipped either. He was probably tucked away in the back, helping a customer or organizing his donations. The closed sign was flipped on the door of Taemin’s glass-blowing shop, but there was still a light on in the back, so he was probably busy doing the same as Minho—getting stocked up before the rush of tourists came.

Once he turned the corner, he slipped inside the seafood cafe he’d come to know a little too well in the years since he had moved here. Jonghyun, who was already busy with a customer, locked eyes with him from around them.

“Just sit, she’ll be ready with your order soon.”

Nodding, Minho hurried up to the counter, slipping onto one of the stools and propping his chin on his paint-smeared hand as he watched Jonghyun.

He and his sister, Taeyeon—who was the one in the back cooking his dinner—had immediately latched onto him when he moved to this tiny seaside town. Several of his pieces hung on the walls, and Jonghyun was the one who coaxed him out of his shop to come get his dinner at the cafe. It had been incredibly unexpected to be welcomed so warmly by perfect strangers when his own family—

Minho cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away and staring unfocused at the bar behind Jonghyun. No need to think about them now. What’s done is done, there’s no going back.

Jonghyun slid into his line of sight, his grin annoyingly bright enough to make Minho smile into his hand. “Are you bored?”

He shook his head. “Just hungry.”

“Well, she’s cooking it as fast as she can. Relax,” he added, with an exaggerated huff of irritation. Minho cracked up, lowering his hand and leaning on the counter. Jonghyun glanced down at his hands. “Get much done today?”

Minho shrugged. “Finished one, started another.”

“We still got a few weeks, though.”

“Yeah.” Jonghyun sighed, reaching below the counter for a bottle of Minho’s favorite soju and twisting the lid off before sliding it over to him. “I might head down to the beach tomorrow and take some more pictures.”

“Want some company?” Jonghyun asked a little too eagerly for Minho’s comfort.

Minho lowered the bottle, his eyebrow raising in amusement. “You?” Jonghyun nodded. “Nah.” He cracked up, almost spilling his soju as he leaned away from Jonghyun when he raised his fist.

“Stop flirting, you two,” Taeyeon said as she breezed through the door behind the bar, plopping down a bag filled with take-out containers on the counter beside Minho. He smiled his thanks as she wiped the sweat off her brow, and Jonghyun felt below the counter again, pulling out a chilled bottle of water for her. “Got any plans for tonight?” she asked as Minho gathered up the handles of the bag.

“Dunno. Probably watch a movie or something.”

Taeyeon smacked Jonghyun’s arm, rolling her eyes when he feigned hurt. “What was that one that Kibum recommended to us?”

“How am I supposed to remember when you beat me like this?”

Minho snorted as he dug in his wallet, fishing out the won he needed and setting it on the counter before slipping off the stool. “Notting…something. It’s English.”

“Yes, because I have a great memory of all his London obsessions.”

“Have a good night, guys,” Minho said with a laugh, waving to the still-bickering siblings before turning away and heading for the door.

Night had already started to creep in, a deep, star-strewn indigo stretching out across the sea. The air was cool now as he hurried back to his shop, nodding a silent greeting to the few other locals he passed. He let himself back inside, not even bothering to turn on the lights as he locked the door and made his way up to his loft apartment over his shop.

He set the bag down on the counter of his kitchenette, ing his billowy shirt and folding it absently as he made his way over to his sort-of made bed. The silence rang in his ears as he puttered around, getting ready for his night in. Once he the tv and the room was filled with sound, he relaxed marginally, even if it was just a commercial. Still, he set out his spread, flicking through the channels until he happened upon one of the dramas he’d sorta been keeping up with, if only because of his slight crush on the main male lead.

By the time he finished his meal, the episode had ended and a drama he didn’t care about had started. He left it on, though, while he picked up after himself and made himself a cup of decaf coffee. He meandered out to his balcony with it, plopping down in his chair as he watched the moonlight glimmer on the incoming waves.

He was nowhere near tired enough to sleep…maybe he should head back downstairs to get a bit of work done. Finish up his painting so he could start afresh tomorrow. Yeah, that was a good plan. He took a sip of his coffee, squinting at the heat of it, and propped his foot up on the banister.

A few moments of relaxation couldn’t hurt, though. He could head back downstairs once he finished his coffee.

* * * * *

The spinning of the ceiling fan cast strobing shadows across the textured ceiling. Kibum blinked slowly, unable to look away from them. The bedroom window was open, letting in the sounds of traffic and indistinguishable chatter from the street. Otherwise, silence filled every inch of his apartment. He shifted, looking away and to the empty spot beside him in bed.

It had only been a few weeks since…since he left. Perhaps he was expecting too much for that space to be filled again.

Not with another man. Obviously. That would be way too quick, given how long he and Joonwoo had been together. But with something else. The silence, the emptiness…it made him listless. Only at home, though. At work he put on his happy mask and went about his day as though his world hadn’t come crashing down around him. Because none of them knew. Joonwoo had just been his roommate, to them. His roommate who was moving back to Daegu in the arms of another man.

Kibum sat up, rubbing his hand roughly over his eyes, and sighed heavily before slipping out of bed. His gaze caught on the couch that they had bought together that Joonwoo in his benevolence let him keep after they split. Then it was the bare walls where artwork had hung. To be fair, it had been Joonwoo’s before they moved in, but it had hung there for five years now and…and…

Jonghyun was right. He needed to escape.

Just for a little while. To clear his head, to air the ghosts of his memories of Joonwoo out of his head and his apartment.

He trudged back to his bedroom, ignoring the untouched bedding on the other side as he grabbed his phone. Yeah, you’re right. I should come down for a little while, he texted to his cousin as he made his way back out to the kitchen to pour himself a too-full glass of wine to drown his sorrows, for now.

Jonghyun sent back a series of excited emotions that made Kibum roll his eyes with the slightest hint of a smile. Just tell me when and I’ll pick you up from the airport!

“When” turned out to be two weeks later after he applied all of his unused vacation days for a full three month-long vacation. The whole summer spent in Jeju. Joonwoo had always intended to take him, but never made the time. So, maybe he wouldn’t waste his vacation thinking about him any longer than he had to.

“How much luggage do you ing need?” Jonghyun asked as he lugged two of Kibum suitcases across the airport to his waiting car while Kibum walked casually beside him, carrying only his carry-on.

“I have to be prepared for anything while I’m here, you know,” he said drolly, digging in his carry-on for his sunglasses.

“Are you expecting the apocalypse?”

Kibum smiled, though it didn’t meet his eyes, and sniffed a laugh as he slipped on his sunglasses. “Don’t make me regret coming here.”

Whatever Jonghyun grumbled, Kibum ignored. He set his carry-on in the trunk and left Jonghyun to struggle with his suitcases as he slipped into the front passenger seat. Jonghyun was slightly breathless when he joined him behind the wheel, and then they were off.

Jonghyun pointed out landmarks and shops and restaurants on the hour-long drive to the town he lived in, and Kibum, nodding along, stared out at the sea as they drove, only looking around when Jonghyun announced that they had arrived. He ducked down, glancing at the shop signs that they passed. Several art shops caught his eye…maybe he’d be able to find something to fill the blank space on his walls.

He pulled up to the cafe his family owned, and Kibum let himself out when he parked, following Jonghyun inside. “You hungry?” he asked, to which Kibum shrugged. “You can just sit at the bar, then, and let me know when you are.”

Kibum nursed several bottles of soju as the day wore on, finally caving to his hunger when Taeyeon brought him out a bowl of sundae soup. It was a quaint little place, this cafe. The whole town, actually, from what he had glimpsed.

He glanced around at the jingle of the bell above the door to find a tall, rumpled man in paint-stained clothes. Kibum’s eyebrow rose as he inspected his frumpy attire, confused as he was that anyone would dare walk around in public like that. When he lifted his gaze to look at his face, shock jolted through him when he found him watching him. There were a few flecks of color dotting his cheeks, nose, and hair.

Just how messy of a painter was this guy?

The man sat a few stools down at the counter, quickly averting his eyes before Jonghyun ambled up to him. “Busy day?”

The man shrugged. “Sold a few pieces more than I was expecting. Gotta start some more before I sleep, I think.”

“That’s a good problem, though,” Jonghyun said with a grin and an attempt at cute finger guns. Kibum rolled his eyes, downing a bit more of his lukewarm soju. “She’ll be right out with it.”

He brought out his wallet, sifting through it for some won. Just how often did he come here? The man glanced back over at him, looking away again when he found Kibum eying him. Kibum blinked rapidly as Jonghyun supplied, “Oh! This is Kibum, my cousin! He’s here for the summer on vacation!”

The man’s expression brightened somewhat, if you could call it that, and he shot Kibum a small, definitely awkward smile. “Oh, he’s mentioned you before. I’m Minho,” he said, his hand struck out for Kibum to shake. He obliged him after glancing at his hand to see if there was any residual paint there, bowing slightly. “I own the art shop just down the way.”

“I figured,” Kibum said, glancing down at the man’s clothes again.

But before any conversation could continue, Taeyeon came out of the kitchen, a to-go bag in hand. Minho took it, thanking both her and Jonghyun before glancing back at Kibum. “I hope you enjoy your time here,” he said with a polite little bow before he turned to leave the cafe.

Kibum watched him go, slightly bewildered, and looked back at his cousins. “Is he always covered in paint?”

Taeyeon smacked his arm with a laugh. “Be nice, he’s really sweet.”

Kibum sighed with a slight shake of his head before he finished off the rest of his soju.

* * * * *

The annoying little jingle that was Minho’s alarm started to play, and even though he resisted for a few minutes, he still stirred enough to turn it off. He lay there drowsily, staring for a little while at the golden sunlight stretching across his room from his balcony. With a grunt, he rolled out of bed and grabbed his phone, stretching as he made his way to the balcony.

Yet another perfectly beautiful morning, with the mist off the sea still clinging to the buildings and the trees and the shore. He opened his camera, snapping a few pictures before heading back inside for some coffee.

He took his second cup downstairs with him, propping the front door open to let the morning breeze in before he set up his workstation for the day. He taped the sides of his sketch of the starfish in the tidepools and stared at it for a while, mentally deciding on what his paint palette should look like. A cheery hello? from the storefront tore him away before he could get started.

It took several more tries and customer interruptions before Minho was able to get everything situated. Not that he minded, for the most part. It was always a relief to sell a painting or two. As annoying as tourists could be, they helped to keep him here, so he had to be grateful to them.

He brushed a light coat of liquid white over the taped off sketch, then mixed up the greenish-blue of the sea before another customer walked in. He closed his eyes tight in frustration before plastering on a smile and going out to greet them.

Oh.

Jonghyun was there, accompanied by Kibum, who was taller than he had been expecting. Still inexplicably wearing his sunglasses, though he pulled them up after a minute, resting them in his lightly tousled hair.

Jonghyun glanced around as he approached them, beaming at him. “Good morning!”

Kibum looked his way, his gaze flicking down to his clothes like it had last night before he met his eyes. Minho let himself be held by his intense amber eyes until Kibum looked away, returning his attention to his paintings hanging on the walls. He blinked slowly, his heart stuttering a little as he stopped by Jonghyun. “Looking for anything in particular?”

“Not really, just showing him around,” he said, nodding to Kibum. “We’re heading to Jinki’s mext.”

“Well, if you’re not gonna buy anything, I have some liquid white drying on my canvas…”

“Oh, yeah, don’t let us keep you from your work. We’re just looking around.”

Nodding with a small smile, Minho glanced back at Kibum, and was pleased to find him engrossed in one of his pieces. He traipsed back to the back room, touching the corner of his taped-off section to see if it was still wet enough to start painting. Luckily, it was, so he finished mixing the color of the water and got to work.

He’d gotten the base of the water painted when Jonghyun peeked into his studio. “Mind if we come in?”

“Uh…” Kibum stepped up behind him, glancing around at the picture-covered walls and unfinished, abandoned pieces. “Sure?”

Both meandered in, Minho’s gaze flicking between them before he returned to mixing a darker shade of the water. “See?” Jonghyun said quietly, though not quietly enough for Minho not to hear him. “He lets me come back here and hang out with him sometimes.”

“The occasional company is nice,” Minho said, starting to add some definition to the water. “When he stays quiet.”

“That would be never, then,” Kibum said, laughing a little when Jonghyun became indignant.

Minho smiled, glancing over at Kibum, then at Jonghyun, and back to Kibum for a lingering second before he looked back at his painting.

“If you guys are just gonna be mean to me, I’ll leave.”

“Bye, then,” Kibum said, laughing again when Jonghyun stomped out of the studio. Minho grinned, pulling his brush away from the canvas and looking up at Kibum as he walked up beside him, inspecting his new painting. “I forgot how easy he is to rile up.”

“A little too easy, sometimes.” Kibum smiled down at him, a hint of a dimple indenting his cheek. He said something else, but Minho had been too focused on the dimple to hear. He cleared his throat, blinking as he met his gaze again. “What?”

“I said I suppose I should go after him.”

“Probably. If he’s not in the shop, he’ll be two doors down.”

Kibum glanced through the threshold of the studio and into the assumedly empty shop. “Thanks, I’ll start there,” he said as he started to walk away.

Minho leaned to watch him go, blurting out “See you around!” when Kibum reached the front door. He turned as he pulled his sunglasses down, giving Minho a little wave before he stepped back out into the sunlit day.

He went back to painting, glancing up when he caught a glimpse of Kibum and Jonghyun before they moved past the wall of Sooyoung’s bakery. A sigh escaped him as he returned his attention to the water.

It was a much busier day today. Many, too many tourists dropped in, plaguing him with small talk as he was trying to ring them up. He was polite, perhaps overly so. Because if they ever returned to this quaint little town, he wanted his work to be remembered fondly, which he supposed, came at the cost of human interaction.

Had he been more outgoing back…home wasn’t the word for it anymore. This was home now, one he made for himself. His tranquil little sanctuary. But yes, he had been friendlier back then. With his family and childhood friends around.

But here…he had the waves to drown out the echoes of his past life. And Jinki if he wanted companionable silence and the smell of old books. Taemin on the rare occasions he wanted to talk about art to someone else who understood, even if their mediums were vastly different. Jonghyun…had been the person he went to, once, when he had been feeling particularly empty.

But no more.

He did prefer his time alone, even if the silence ached sometimes. But sacrifices must be made for the sake of maintaining what you already know to be safe and comfortable.

It was a relief when his phone dinged that it was time for lunch. He hurried to flip the sign, then retreated upstairs to heat up some of his leftovers, then took them out to the balcony to enjoy the sunshine and salty breeze for a little while. He washed the dishes and set them to dry when he finished, then set a timer on his phone for the remaining lunch hour and dedicated the rest of his time to finally make some progress on his painting.

Business dipped after lunch, only a few stragglers coming in, and even less of them buying something. He closed up shop when the sun set, then went back to the studio to put the finishing touches on his piece for the day, signing it in the same coral pink as he had painted the starfish. Satisfied, he sat back to inspect it, smiling slowly the longer he looked.

He was still learning, of course, and he’d never be perfect at it, but he could still be proud of himself, right?

Once he set it aside to start drying, he cleaned up his station, setting his brushes to dry before he made his way down the boardwalk to the Kim’s cafe. He glanced around as he opened the door, finding Kibum sitting in the same corner he had been the night before. Yet again, he turned around, following Minho’s progress across the room. The prolonged look set butterflies loose in Minho’s stomach as he took his usual stool. Gulping, he looked over at him, giving him a tight-lipped smile and a tiny nod in greeting.

“Hello!” Jonghyun said on his way past them, arms laden with a bin full of dishes. “I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, Minho got out his wallet, counting the won.

“Do you come here every night?” Kibum asked, his voice slightly slurred.

Minho looked over at him, first as his half-full mojito before meeting his gaze. “Basically, yeah.”

“How come?”

He coughed a quiet little laugh, setting his won in a carefully neat pile on the counter. “Cooking’s not my strong suit.”

Kibum hummed as if in thought and took another sip of his mojito as Jonghyun came back out, gathering the waiting won and replacing it with an open bottle of soju.

Was it odd? To live such a habitual life? Perhaps, but he didn’t care enough to change.

“You’re late today, Minho,” Taeyeon said, interrupting his thoughts as she handed him his dinner.

“Had to finish my painting.”

She smiled up at him as he stood and thanked her, his attention trailing over to Kibum for a second. And, before he could look away, Kibum leaned a little towards him.

“Tell me,” he said, Minho’s eyebrows raising in question. “Do you have any clothes not covered in paint?” Taeyeon smacked his arm lightly, but he brushed her off.

“A few…”

“Do you ever wear them?”

Minho averted his gaze and tightened his grip on his to-go bag, thankful to the dimmer lighting for hiding his reddening face. “Not that often, no.” He looked back at Jonghyun and Taeyeon. “See you tomorrow.”

Calls of Have a good night, Minho! followed him out the door, and he trudged back to his shop, locking himself in.

He arranged his dinner before turning on the tv, surprised to find that the new episode of his drama was already airing. At least it was a scene of the secondary couple that he didn’t give a about. So he contented himself with eating, waiting for the main male lead to show up again.

When he did, he was smiling at his love interest, and Minho’s attention dipped just for a second to the dimple on his cheek.

* * * * *

[5:32]

What did you change the passcode to?

[5:47]

Why? Are you at my place?

Yes

Passcode?

Why are you there?

We’re here to pick up the rest of my stuff

We?

As in you and Daejung?

Yes

ㅋㅋ honey I threw the rest of your
out as soon as you two left

Never contact me again

ㅋㅋ way to be mature about this

[5:54]

So you’re just leaving me on read now?

Kibum turned his phone completely off, tossing it aside hard enough that it slipped off the bed. His eyes rolled back as he closed them tightly, letting out a long sigh. The audacity of Joonwoo showing up in the first place, let alone with the man Kibum found him in bed with.

Maybe he should throw the whole bed out when he got home.

Or burn it in effigy in the shared courtyard of his apartment complex.

Groaning, he rolled out of bed, holding his throbbing head as he stopped before his nearest suitcase and threw on the first items of clothing he could find. Did any of it go together? Did it actually matter?

As quietly as he could manage, he left his uncle’s house, meandering across the quiet street and walking along the shoulder of the road, his mind wandering unwilling to Joonwoo. And Daejung. And how the screaming match that ensued as both of them dressed and grabbed as much of Joonwoo’s stuff as they could before they left.

He stumbled when he unexpectedly stepped in sand, and he looked around, finding himself at an abandoned, unfamiliar beach. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon, a bright orange glow as the cloudy sky started to shift to a pale blue. He kept walking, bending over as he did to pull off his shoes, continuing barefoot as he made his way to the roaring shore.

The waves were surprisingly warm as they lapped at his ankles, and he kept on, not even bothering to roll up his pant legs as he waded in up to his knees. The sound of the waves obliterated everything else in his head, and yet the image of Joonwoo and Daejung together persisted.

His frustration, his anger, his inescapable sadness…it had all been building up inside since everything went wrong. Part of him wanted to yell, to scream, just to let some of the accumulating tension out. But before he could, tears started to spill down his cheeks unbidden. He held his hand over his eyes, hunching over as he sobbed.

Would he ever be able to move past this? Could he ever forget the man he thought was the love of his life?

It wasn’t fair.

None of it w—

“Excuse me?”

Kibum froze, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to stop crying.

“Are you okay?”

Did it look like he was okay? He scrubbed his hand over his eyes, whirling around to tell off whoever the was bothering him, only to find a concerned looking Minho watching him, a few steps into the sea after him. Kibum rubbed his nose, turning back around to wipe his eyes again.

“Is…is there anything I can do for you?”

Kibum let out a breath that would have been a laugh at any other time. “Take out a hit on my ex?”

“Uh…” Kibum sniffed, drying his cheeks and looking back around at him. How did he still have paint on his clothes? “I’m not sure if I can do that.” Kibum smiled, despite everything, then sighed. “What’d she do?” He frowned at that, throwing Minho a bewildered look, whose eyes widened. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No. I—h…she cheated on me. I don’t know for how long. I found out last month.”

Minho’s eyes stayed blown wide, mouth slightly agape. . Kibum trudged back to the sand, wiping at his still damp cheeks.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have unloaded on you.”

“It’s okay,” he said, a little too quickly. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“Me too.”

Neither spoke for a few long seconds, the rush of the waves filling in the silence between them. “I…I’ll leave you alone, I guess,” he said, giving Kibum an awkward little bow before he turned, trudging away.

Sighing, Kibum glanced around. Wait, where was he? How far had he wandered from his uncle’s house? A cool breeze swept up, starting him shivering.

Frowning, he looked down at what he was wearing, and to his horror, he found that he was wearing one of his pairs of silk checkered pajama pants that were soaked up to his thighs and gritty with sand that, in his distraught state, he had paired that with a plaid magenta sweater vest with nothing underneath.

His shoes? Nowhere to be seen.

Muttering a string of curses under his breath, he jogged for a few steps, trying to catch up to Minho, who only stopped when he called out his name. He watched him approach, his brow furrowed in concern again.

“Look.” Kibum gestured to himself, and Minho slowly looked down at him. “I can’t be seen like this, I don’t have my phone on me, and I don’t know how to get to Jonghyun’s place.”

“I mean, me neither.” Kibum deflated, wrapping his arms around himself and looking around to make sure no one else was around to witness him like this. “But, um, I guess I can take you back to my shop and lend you something of mine?”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, a hint of a smile twitching the corner of his mouth. “I’ll try to make sure there’s no paint on whatever it is.”

Kibum cracked a smile. “I’d appreciate that.”

Minho nodded toward the road and Kibum hurried to keep up with his longer stride as he led him to his miniscule car. He unlocked it for them, folding the driver’s seat up to reach in the back for a towel that he passed to Kibum. Kibum accepted it with a nod before heading around to the passenger side as Minho tapped the sand off of his sandals before slipping into his seat behind the wheel. After brushing off as much sand as he could, he folded the towel and set it over his seat so he didn’t get the leather wet. Minho started the car as soon as Kibum closed the door behind him.

An upbeat pop song started playing. Not too loudly, but Minho reached over to turn it down just the same. “Sorry,” he muttered as he checked both ways before pulling out onto the road.

“I don’t mind. I like that song, actually.”

Nodding, Minho reached to turn the volume back up a little. Both let the song play out in full without speaking, and when it was over, Minho turned it down again. Kibum, who had been staring out the window, watching the countryside pass them by, turned back around. He cleared his throat, diverting Minho’s focus from the road ahead for a split second.

“Thank you again for driving me back.”

“No problem.”

The song changed again. Another stretch of silence between them lasted until the second verse started. “I guess I was really lucky you were there, huh?” Minho shrugged, shaking his head dismissively. “Why were you there so early?”

“I like going to the beach when no one else is there. I get better reference pictures then.”

“Sorry if I ruined any of your shots.”

He chuckled as he stopped at a light, looking over at Kibum for a second. “I’d already gotten everything I needed, don’t worry.”

Kibum looked out the window again, surprised to find them already back in town. He must have not wandered too far off. Well, assuming that his uncle lived somewhere in town. Minho pulled off the road, heading into the alley behind the strip his shop was on and parked behind it. Kibum glanced around, making sure that no one was watching before he got out of the car. As surreptitiously as he could manage, he hid himself behind Minho as he walked to the back door, letting them both inside.

Minho lingered at the door, fiddling with his phone for a few seconds before he locked it. Kibum was still watching him when he looked up, and he held up his phone. “I was just letting Jonghyun know where you were in case he was worried.”

“Oh, thank you.”

He gave him a quick nod as he squeezed past him in the narrow hallway. “Just give me a second. I’ll run up and find something for you.”

And with that, he left Kibum alone, his footsteps pounding up the staircase leading to his apartment. Kibum peered up for a second before he meandered around the studio, still hugging himself except when he would reach out to straighten a sketch or a painting or a picture. He was quite good, he’d thought that yesterday. His style was both realistic with some slight idealization. As if Miyazaki dabbled in oil painted landscapes.

The stairs creaked, and Kibum released the edge of the picture he had been looking at, turning around to see Minho gradually appearing through the banister. He held up a stack of soft-looking clothes, extending them to him and reaching around to open the door in the hallway.

“You can change in here,” he said, holding the door open as Kibum slipped past him.

Why not…upstairs? Well, he did seem like a really private guy. Whatever. Kibum took the clothes and ducked into the small room, looking around for a place to set them down as the stairs outside creaked again. Basically every surface was covered with varied sizes of canvas or tubes of paint. A broken easel sat in one corner, and multiple other whole ones in another.

Huh.

He shivered as he pulled off his sweater vest, then flicked through the clothes, his brow furrowing in slight amusement. True to his word, Minho had brought him clothes with no paint on them. A simple pair of medium wash jeans and a black sweatshirt. No logo, no hood.

He’d never once looked so unassuming in his life, but…well, there was a first time for everything.

Kibum changed into the jeans first, eager to be out of his gritty pajamas. A huge blank canvas caught his eye as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, and he moved around to pull it out to look at it better.

If he had to guess, it looked as if it would fill the blank space on his wall back home. He bundled up his clothes and opened the door just as Minho was coming down the stairs, two mugs of coffee in hand.

“Where can I put these?” Kibum asked, and Minho stared at him, his eyes a little wider than usual. Kibum held up his handful of vibrant clothes in explanation when Minho didn’t answer right away.

“Um,” he stepped off the stairs, setting both of the mugs on the somewhat organized table. “I’ll get you a bag. One of those, uh, coffees…it’s for you. I thought you might…”

“Thank you,” Kibum said for what felt like the billionth time today.

Nodding again, Minho hurried back upstairs, returning a minute later with one of the bags from his uncle’s cafe. Kibum took it when he offered it to him, eying Minho in bewilderment as he turned into the studio and, shaking his head, he stuffed his clothes in the bag and tied it off before setting it by the back door.

Sighing heavily, he returned to the studio, pointing at one of the mugs. “Can I take this one?” Minho nodded without looking up from counting his empty paint palettes, and Kibum slowly took it, squinting slightly at him. “What are you doing?”

Minho looked up, his brow unfurrowing after a second when Kibum gestured to the palettes before taking a sip of his coffee. “Oh, making sure I have enough for my class later today.”

Kibum sputtered for a second, struggling to swallow the hot coffee. He covered his mouth, asking, “You teach?” Maybe the incredulity in his voice was too obvious. Minho gave him a pained smile, cocking his head as he shook it and setting the palettes aside. “Sorry, I just…I wasn’t expecting…”

“It’s okay. I know.”

“But you’re so quiet?” And awkward?

“It’s easy to talk about painting.”

Part of him wanted to stick around, just to see what Minho was like when he was vaguely more animated, but before he could ask if that would be possible, a knock at the front door distracted them both. Kibum turned his head as Minho stood, both of them finding Jonghyun waving at them behind the locked door.

Kibum set the mug down, hurrying to grab his bag of clothes while Minho went to unlock the door.

“Thanks for looking after him,” Jonghyun said before Kibum joined them in the store front.

“You’re making it sound like I’m a petulant child,” Kibum said before Minho could respond, glancing his way when he let out a sniff of a laugh. “Thanks again.” He patted the chest of his sweatshirt. “I’ll return these soon.”

“No rush.”

He held himself back from saying “Believe me, I don’t want to wear them any longer than I have to.” Instead, he just offered Minho a small smile when he fleetingly met his gaze. “Good luck with your class.”

“Thank you,” Minho said before Jonghyun dragged Kibum out of his shop.

The sun was fully up now, suffusing the air with a little bit of heat as they walked along toward the cafe. Jonghyun smacked his shoulder, making Kibum wince. “Jesus, what?”

“What happened to you? Where’d you go?” Kibum let out a huff as he rubbed his shoulder. “We were worried.”

Kibum rolled his eyes and looked down at their feet. His bare feet. “Can we go back to the house so I can change into actual clothes?”

“Kibum.”

He let out a long sigh. “The texted me, alright?” When Jonghyun didn’t have anything smart to say, he continued, “He and…they were trying to get into my place.”

“What!”

“I changed my code, relax.”

“What if he guesses?”

“It’s our anniversary, so he won’t remember.” Jonghyun his teeth at him, and Kibum let out a clipped laugh. “I’m kidding, Jjong. It’s a random set of numbers. I don’t even remember it.” The code was scrawled down and tucked behind his I.D. for when he got back home.

Jonghyun shot him an exasperated look, then sighed. “Are you okay?”

Kibum squinted and looked up as he stopped walking. “What part of me looks like I’m okay?” Jonghyun paused too, looking back at him. “I’ve been ing dumped and the won’t leave me alone. I’m wearing the most boring clothes on the planet, and I couldn’t even…ing mope properly because the most awkward man alive interrupted me and—“

Jonghyun’s brow immediately furrowed, cutting Kibum off from continuing his rant. “Please don’t tell me you were rude to him when he was just trying to help.”

“I—“ Had he been? No, he’d been as pleasant as the situation called for. “I don’t think I was.” When Jonghyun, who was still frowning, shook his head slightly, Kibum’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you and Taeng so protective of him?”

To his surprise, Jonghyun looked around before gesturing to him to follow him to the car. Kibum clambered in, being careful to avoid stepping on loose gravel.

“I don’t know the whole story,” Jonghyun said as soon as Kibum closed his door. He started the car, turning around to watch behind him as he backed up. “Because, well…” He squinted, working his jaw for a second before turning back around to drive forward. “Anyways, he only mentioned it once a few months after he moved here, but I guess that when he came out it didn’t go very well. At all.”

Kibum sank back in his seat, his defensiveness melting away. “What happened?”

Jonghyun shook his head. “Even if I knew, I wouldn’t say. That’s his story to tell. But,” he spared Kibum a glance when he paused at the light. “Taeng and I have been trying to be as nice as we can. Believe it or not, he’s extremely friendly compared to how he was when he first got here.” Oh god, he couldn’t even imagine… “I used to have to practically drag him out of his shop to come to the cafe, and even then he’d only order it to-go. Still does, but at least he comes on his own.” Jonghyun let out a long sigh. “If I had to guess—and this doesn’t leave this car—“

“Right, of course.”

“—I think he thinks he’s better off not getting close to people. Like, he wouldn’t be able to get hurt again, or something.”

Yeah, that would make sense. Both he and Jonghyun, when they came out to their families…it wasn’t exactly smooth, but now, everything was more than fine. They knew they were accepted as they were.

He was roused from his musings when Jonghyun parked the car. “Hurry up and go get changed.”

Once inside his and Jonghyun’s shared bedroom for the summer, Kibum grabbed his phone, turning it back on and tossing it screen up on the bed. He kept an eye on it as he started sifting through his suitcase for his own clothes. A few texts, mostly from Yerim—his little sister—but there were a few more from Joonwoo. He rolled his eyes, flipping his phone over and focused on putting an outfit together.

He changed out of Minho’s clothes and into some light wash jean shorts, a white t-shirt with a design that was covered up by his abstractedly-wavy checkered kelly green sweater vest. When he finished tying his sneakers, he grabbed his darkest pair of sunglasses, his phone, and Minho’s clothes before heading back out to Jonghyun’s car.

“It’s been a day already,” he said airily as he buckled himself in, flipping the visor down to check his hair.

“It’s barely eight,” Jonghyun said, chuckling.

“And?” He let out a long sigh as he started folding Minho’s sweatshirt. “I need a drink.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jonghyun glance at him. “What? I do.”

He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, and pointedly avoided Kibum’s gaze. “Taeyeon wanted me to talk to you about that.”

“About…my drinking?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you staging an intervention or something?” he asked, letting out an incredulous laugh. “Jjong, you’re a bartender.”

Jonghyun shot him a glare. “We’re just worried that’s all.” The light ahead changed to red, and Jonghyun braked with the other cars, turning fully to look at Kibum. “I get it. He broke your heart. But it’s not gonna do you any good to wallow in your feelings.”

“Wallow?” Kibum bit back, Jonghyun looking back at the road when a car behind them honked. “You can’t expect me to get over this so quickly. Not after how long—“

“It’s been a month, Bum.”

“Okay? And?”

“I’m just saying, there are a lot of other things you can do here besides drink your feelings away.” Kibum rolled his eyes, which was hidden by his sunglasses. “You can go lounge at the beach, read all the books Jinki has in his shop, go on a food tour of the island…take a ing art class, I don’t know, that’s for you to figure out.” He pulled up behind the restaurant, shifting into park a little rougher than usual. “You can be mad at me all you want, I don’t care. I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“Whatever,” Kibum mumbled, picking at a thread in the neck of Minho’s sweatshirt.

“I know it hurts, Bummie—“

“Do you.”

Before Jonghyun could continue, Kibum unlocked his door, slipping out of the car and slamming it shut behind him. Maybe he’d regret that later, but for now, he’d let himself be as angry as he felt like being. He trudged through the back door of the cafe, throwing Taeyeon a glare as he passed her on his way to where the to-go bags were kept.

“What are you doing?” she asked cheerily as Kibum stuffed Minho’s clothes into one of them. Ignoring her, he slipped out behind the bar, tossing the bag under the bar and before he could storm out the front door, he glimpsed a pair of sand-flecked mules below the counter. His black leather Balenciaga mules. The ones he had searched for months for at every consignment store he could find in Seoul. The ones he’d thoughtless thrown on this morning in his haste to escape. “Oh good, you saw them,” Taeyeon said as she pushed through the door and came up beside him. “Minho said you forgot those at the beach so he went back to get them for you.”

Kibum blinked slowly, frowning at them. Man could barely look him in the eye when he spoke to him and yet he’d go all the way back to the beach just to find these for him? Shaking his head, he continued around the bar, heading toward the front door.

“Where are you going?” Taeyeon asked, not glancing around as Jonghyun pushed through the kitchen door.

He turned, looking back at them with a sardonic smile. “Somewhere without alcohol, apparently.” And with that, he pressed the door open, returning to the oppressively sunlit boardwalk.

Most of the shops were still closed, or just barely opening. Jinki—who he had only met the one time—smiled and waved at him as he passed, to which Kibum responded with a forced smile of his own. The smell of freshly baked goods drew him into the bakery between Jinki’s shop and Minho’s and he bought a fluffy, chocolate and caramel filled croissant and an iced coffee before he left the shop.

Out of curiosity, he glanced into Minho’s shop—which was still closed— and was unsurprised to not be able to see him. Not that it mattered, he’d see him tonight when he came to get his dinner. He could thank him…again…then.

He hopped off the boardwalk when it came to a grassy end, looked both ways before jogging across the street and into the white sands of the beach. There were already people out enjoying the day. Families with young kids, mostly. He tramped over to a bench and plopped down, digging in the crinkling bag for his still-warm croissant and the accompanying napkins.

Admittedly, he knew it was becoming a bit of a problem. He’d drank until he couldn’t remember a thing the first few nights after Joonwoo left, and since then, enough to leave him debilitated for the better part of the next morning.

Still. It wasn’t great to hear.

Any of Jonghyun’s suggestions would be better than continuing to be self-destructive. He knew that. Did he actually care, though?

He was three angry bites into his croissant when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He chewed and swallowed quickly as he dug it out of his pocket, finding Yerim smiling at him from her tiny account picture. Sighing heavily, he answered the phone, tucking it between his ear and shoulder.

“Did Taeyeon tell you to call?” he asked drolly as she let out the most exaggerated, drawn-out aegyo version of Oppa he’d ever been greeted with by her. “What the is wrong with you?” He asked, unable to stop himself from laughing.

She laughed too, then cleared seriously. “Yes, she did. She told me you were being a little .”

“Did she?”

“In almost those exact words.”

“See, I don’t think I am.”

“You’re too close to the situation.” Again, Kibum laughed, rolling his eyes in amusement this time. “Listen, Kibummie.” He sighed, tearing off another piece of his croissant and dipping it in the melted caramel and chocolate. “After what he did to you, do you really want to spend any more of your time being upset over him?” He stuffed the pastry in his mouth, chewing slowly as she continued. “You’re better than that. You’re better than him, so start acting like it.”

He sipped his coffee, waiting for her to speak again. It took a few long seconds before she asked. “You still with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Well? Are you being quiet for once because you know I’m right?”

“This one time…”

“I take after Mom which means I’m always right.” He scoffed, shaking his head as he sipped his coffee again. “If you can’t be happy right now, I get that, but how do you think he’s taking all this? Knowing how devastated you are?”

“I’m not devastated,” Kibum mumbled, though it didn’t sound convincing, even to him.

She rightfully ignored it. “Be the one who got away. Haunt his nightmares with the knowledge that you—eventually—found someone so much better than he ever was to you.”

“Oh, I’m never dating again,” he said immediately. “It’s not worth all this.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, a smirk in her voice.

“I’m serious! I don’t want to go through this bull again. I’m better off by myself.”

“Well then, that just means you need to start living the life you want out of pure spite. Become so amazing that he regrets his mistake.”

“He already should, though.”

“He will.”

He took another drink of his coffee, surprised to hear her finishing off a drink on her end. “What’d you get?”

“A pink drink!”

He smiled to himself, swirling his ice in his coffee for a second. “I guess it would be pretty boring just to…to drink the entire time I’m here, huh?”

“Exactly. Who knows when you’ll be able to do this again? Might as well make the most of it while you’re there.” Kibum opened his mouth to speak, but she plowed on. “Find something you can do everyday that’ll take your mind off of him, and someday, hopefully soon, you’ll stop thinking about him at all.”

“You’re too wise for your own good.”

“God, I know, it’s such a burden.” He sniffed a laugh, and she chuckled quietly. “Send me pictures of whatever you do, okay? I gotta get back to work.”

“Thanks for calling, Yeri.”

“Yeah, yeah, bring me back a good souvenir.”

Both hesitated, and before Kibum could tell if she was going to say goodbye, she hung up the phone, beating him at the unspoken game he had started between them. “Dammit,” he whispered, smiling at his phone as he set it on his thigh.

After a second of thought, he picked up his phone again and took a bite of his croissant, leaving the rest of it hanging out of his mouth as he snapped a quick selca. He sent it to Yerim immediately, and she opened it a few seconds later.

I want oneeeee

Too bad ㅋㅋ, he replied, and stuffed his phone back in his pocket so he could finish off the rest of his croissant.

He meandered around the beach, picking up the occasional seashell that caught his eye, until he couldn’t ignore his hunger anymore. Reluctantly, he left the beach, heading back to the bakery to pick up two iced coffees before he slowly made his way back to the cafe. Jonghyun was busy serving customers at the bar when he walked in, but he still looked up at him. Kibum joined him behind the bar, wordlessly setting down one of the coffees on the counter by him before he slipped through to the kitchen.

Taeyeon looked up at him as he took off his sunglasses, and he sheepishly glanced away as he passed her the other coffee. When he looked back, she was smiling. “Hungry?” He nodded. “Give me a second, I’ll bring you something in a minute.”

“Okay.”

He had just barely situated himself in his corner at the bar when Taeyeon brought him out a steaming bowl of jjamppong. He watched Jonghyun mixing drinks and talking up customers, his mind wandering to what he could possibly do to fill up the rest of his vacation. Maybe Jonghyun would let him borrow his car? He could go exploring on his own? A food tour would be kinda fun, but—

“Wait, what is this?”

Kibum looked up as he scooped up the last of his broth to see Jonghyun peering into the bag of Minho’s clothes. “Oh, hand that here.”

Jonghyun glanced at him, curious, and Kibum gestured for him to hurry. So he did, and Kibum set it beside him, staring at it as he pushed his bowl aside.

Sure, Minho was awkward and quiet and, for whatever reason, stubborn enough to rebuff Jonghyun and Taeyeon’s many attempts at cultivating a deeper friendship than their surface-level five-minute daily interaction. But there was this underlying desire for connection. Why else would Minho have butted in this morning when he had been crying? Why would he have gone out of his way to go back for his shoes when Kibum had, admittedly, been a tiny bit rude to him? Why would he come every day, without fail, to the cafe?

He had to miss it, didn’t he? Genuine connection? Friendship?

Well then.

He was stubborn, too. Probably even more stubborn than Minho was. Besides, he owed him kindness in return after today, didn’t he?

But…what could he do?

The door opened, and Kibum glanced absently over his shoulder, doing a double take as Minho walked in. Their eyes met, and Kibum sat up a little straighter as he approached the bar.

“How was your class?” Kibum asked as Minho asked “Did you get your shoes?”

Both paused, Minho giving him a small smile. “Yeah,” Kibum said when Minho didn’t speak first. “I would have really missed them.”

He nodded, looking over at Jonghyun as he hurried over to ask him about his day. Kibum inspected Minho, his eyes catching on every fleck of paint he could see. He was an artist. A painter who had an empty canvas big enough to fill the blank space in his home.

Wait…he could commission him.

He came to this conclusion as Minho was walking away with his dinner, and Kibum grabbed the bag of his clothes and darted after him. “Minho!” he called out as he stepped out onto the boardwalk, grabbing his attention before the door to the cafe swung closed. Minho swung around, eyes wide in surprise as Kibum hurried over to him. “I was gonna return these to you,” he said, holding out the bag, only for both of them to look down and remember that his hands were full. “I can carry it back.”

“O-okay.”

Kibum waited for Minho to start walking before he did, matching his gate. “I have a favor to ask.” Minho’s brow furrowed, and he looked over at him. “You know that big canvas in your store room? I saw it when I was changing earlier today,” he added quickly when Minho looked even more confused.

“Oh, right.”

“Do you have a plan for it already?” He shook his head. “I was thinking I could commission you.” Minho stopped walking, blinking rapidly as he stared at Kibum. “You see…” He glanced around, making sure there was no one else around before he leaned a little closer, lowering his voice to say, “I have a blank space on my wall now because my ex took the artwork that we had hanging there with him when he left.”

Minho stopped blinking and he averted his gaze, frowning at the boardwalk.

“And so, I thought you might be able to help me. I don’t care about the price at all, I’m willing to pay whatever, I just need to fill that space as soon as possible.”

“Why me?” Minho asked after several quiet seconds.

“I like your art style. And, I thought it’d be a good souvenir for me from this trip.” When the furrow in Minho’s brow deepened again, Kibum reached out, his fingers grazing Minho’s arm before he pulled his hand back. “You don’t have to answer right away. Just, let me know if you’re interested or if you’ll have time for this at all.”

“Okay.”

Minho stopped at his shop door, opening it and letting Kibum in first before he kicked it closed behind him, and Kibum led the way back to the studio. He set the bag of clothes on the table, watching Minho come around to the stairs. “One last thing before I head out, uh…” he froze when Minho looked at him again. “I’m…sorry, I probably came off as rude this morning. You didn’t deserve that.”

Minho shook his head. “It’s okay, you were having a bad day.”

“That’s still no excuse.” Minho shrugged dismissively. “But, anyways, I don’t want to keep you from your dinner. I’ll drop by sometime tomorrow and we can…figure it all out if you’re interested?”

“Around what time?”

“Uh…when would be good for you?”

“Sometime after lunch. So, one.”

“Alright.” Kibum took a step back, still holding Minho’s gaze. “See you then?”

When Minho nodded, Kibum took it as his cue to leave, so he gave him a small smile before turning and heading for the door.

Well, if this didn’t work out, he could always fall back on the food tour of Jeju as well as some retail therapy to occupy him for the rest of his vacation…

* * * * *

Minho stared at the door long after it had closed behind Kibum. He was only pulled out of his daze when he moved to sit and his jjamppong sloshed in its container.

Right. Dinner.

He looked down at the bundle in his arms, then to the bag of clothes Kibum had set down on the table. Was the canvas even in good enough condition? Should he go clean it?

No, no. Food first. The newest episode was airing soon and he didn’t want to miss it. He trudged upstairs, flipping the lights on, setting his dinner down on the table, and turning the tv on before he went to get changed out of his work clothes and into his pajamas. He listened to the last few minutes of the drama that was airing before his as he picked up the mess he had made looking for paint-free clothes for Kibum earlier.

The lack he had of clothes that didn’t have paint on them was honestly kind of sad. But it didn’t really matter, because it wasn’t like he was ever anywhere but here.

The intro song of his drama started playing, so he stopped folding up his clothes and made his way to his tiny couch, pulling his soup and containers of rice and banchan toward him. He ate slowly, savoring his familiar dinner, and finished his last bite just before the previews for next week started to play. Leaving the tv on just for the noise, he cleaned up after himself before hurrying back downstairs.

He let himself into his store room, flicking the light on and finding the canvas set out in front, fingerprints marring the layer of dust on it. Kibum must have pulled it out to look at it. Humming in thought, Minho brushed some of the dust off before holding it up, inspecting the canvas itself for cracks or tears. It was still stretched nicely, which was good. He’d just need to clean the dust off if he was going to do this.

Which, why shouldn’t he? It’d probably be a good chunk of money that he’d need after the tourist season.

But then…

What if…

What was Kibum doing this for? Was there some sort of…ulterior motive here that Minho just wasn’t seeing?

He set the canvas down, frowning at it, then left the store room and turned the studio light on. Pity? Could that be it? He felt bad for being, what, rude earlier? Even now, as he thought back to their short interactions, he had been nothing but pleasant. Maybe he was even nicer than that usually?

The furrow in his brow deepened as he reached for the bag of clothes, and he hugged it as he looked around at the many pictures—painted and photographs—littering the walls.

Even if it were out of pity…he was, he was like him. He had an ex-boyfriend too…Yeunseo…

He shuddered at the thought of him, then scratched absently at the place when Kibum had touched his arm. It still tingled, just a little. It had been…quite a while since anyone had touched him. Jonghyun had been the last, after he drank too much and let it slip why he came here. He had hugged him, then, and as soon as he was alone again, he had cried.

Tears welled up in his eyes now, but he blinked them away quickly.

He couldn’t stand being pitied; he could see it in Jonghyun and Taeyeon’s eyes whenever they looked at him.

If he was ever gonna overcome this—and he would, eventually—he would do it on his own. He didn’t need help, he just needed more time. More space.

He’d be fine.

Clearing his throat, Minho sat at his workstation, looking about the room at all the pictures.

No, he should do it. If it would help Kibum, then…he sniffed a quiet laugh, smirking to himself. Was he doing it out of pity for Kibum? That would be ironic.

Sighing, he stood and turned off the light to the studio, working on untying the knot holding the bag straps together on his way back up the stairs. He returned his clothes to their places in his closet, then turned the tv down to a whisper before he went to brush his teeth.

His mind was still buzzing with the possibilities of what Kibum might want him to paint for him by the time he crawled into bed. Not an ordinary beach scene, surely. He didn’t seem like the type. He turned over in bed, hugging his pillow. If he didn’t stop thinking about this, he’d never get any sleep.

It did come eventually, so gradually that he didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep until he woke up to his alarm. Groaning, he pulled his phone off the charger, blearily checking the weather for the day before he rolled out of bed. Sunny, it looked like, so there would probably be a pretty steady stream of customers until…

.

His painting class for kids. At one. When Kibum was gonna be here.

, how could he have forgotten?

Anxiety clawed at his stomach as he got ready for the day, his coffee perfuming the small space as he buttoned up his overly large black dress shirt. He took the mug downstairs with him, setting it aside to cool as he set the studio up for the later class. The table folded up and set against the wall, all but his own easel stuffed into the store room and replaced with the smaller models. By the time he had them all set up, it was time to open for the day.

His abandoned coffee grew cold as customers took his attention away from even the thought of sitting down to enjoy it. Luckily, though, he had sold a few pieces before lunch rolled around. He threw together something quick and easy, distracted the whole time with whether or not he should run down to the cafe to apologize to Kibum and reschedule, or…

Before he could decide, the first of the families showed up. A shy little girl and her mother, who kept trying to make her talk to be polite, and Minho wished she’d just let her be. He gave her a small smile before instructing her to paint her canvas with a thin layer of liquid white, but by then the next of the families came in.

Was Kibum not coming?

He had gotten the last of the kids settled when the door opened again, and in breezed Kibum, his shirt a shocking shade of pink, that, unless he was mistaken, could be matched with some alizarin crimson, white, and a touch of phthalo blue.
His eyebrows shot up above his sunglasses, and he set the two iced coffees in his hands down on the counter so he could take his sunglasses off and look around at the waiting class.

“Excuse me,” Minho muttered to the class before he joined Kibum in the store front.

“Is this the wrong time? I could have sworn you said one.”

Minho winced, looking away. “I did, I’m sorry. I…forgot about this class.”

Kibum’s mouth opened in a silent Oh, and he went up on his tiptoes to peer over Minho’s shoulder. “I don’t mind waiting,” he said, looking back at Minho with a dimpled smile before he reached for one of the coffees and slid it over to him. “I asked Sooyoung what your order was but she said you never get coffee from her, so I got you what I get. Hope that’s okay.”

Minho stared at the coffee for a few seconds before he took it off the counter. “Do you, um”—Why did his mind have to be a jumbled mess right now?—“want to wait in here?”

“Oh, can I paint too?” he asked, his bright gaze snatching Minho’s before he could look away.

“Sure, let me…you can use my station,” he said quickly, before he turned to head back into his studio. “I’ll be right back,” he said to the class as Kibum followed him in. He greeted the class as Minjo hurried upstairs to get one of his painting shirts to protect Kibum’s clothes. He handed it to Kibum as he passed him, then he stood before the class. “Let’s get started,” he said to the class after taking a deep breath.

It was a simple painting, one that he had done a variation of at least a hundred times. A sunset—or sunrise, depending on how you looked at it— over the sea. He painted alongside them, walking around to show the kids how to hold and use their brushes to get different effects. They all looked like his had done when he was first getting into painting—messy and enthusiastic. He praised them all, because really, any painting is a good one, no matter if it’s not technically perfect.

He stopped at Kibum’s easel, doing a double-take. It was…well, bright was too tame a word. Vibrant, maybe. He hadn’t followed what Minho was showing the rest of the class, not even a little bit. It was just, streaks of fluorescent colors intermingled together. No rhyme or reason to it. Kibum looked up at him, a few bright green flecks of paint dotting his cheeks like freckles. “I think I deviated a bit,” he whispered, looking back at the canvas and cocking his head to the side.

“Am I that bad of a teacher?” Minho whispered back without thinking. , what if he—

Kibum laughed, reaching up to shove him lightly. Minho cracked a smile as his hand drew away. “No, I just like doing my own thing.”

“What’s it supposed to be?”

He shrugged, dipping his brush in the blueish-purple on his palette and adding a few more streaks. “No idea. I’m just playing around with color.”

Hm.

Minho cleared his throat and, before he could say anything else, he noticed one of the kids had their hand up, so he stepped away.

While no one’s paint was quite dry, he had everyone title and sign theirs, showing them how to thin out the paint to make it glide easier for the signature. Then he helped the kids hang their paintings to dry, stepping back to give their parents ample space to take as many pictures of their kids’ art as they could. He glanced around, finding Kibum already watching him, and took a step or two back to stand beside him again.

Curious, he peered over his head to see if he signed and titled his painting. “Son of a ” was written in English in the pen that he had given everyone. He coughed a quiet laugh, and Kibum looked up at him then followed his gaze. With a wry smile, he leaned a little closer, and Minho bent down so he could whisper “I know it’s in English, but I didn’t want the kids to see it.”

“Why’d you give it that name?”

“I was channeling my feelings in a constructive way,” he said dryly, and Minho scanned the mess of a painting again. Ah, the ex.

“Well, if you had painted the scene I did, you could have named it ‘sun of a beach,’” he said, switching to English for the title.

Again, Kibum shoved him with another quiet laugh. Minho staggered away a step, straightening up as he bit back a smile. Butterflies were fluttering like mad inside, but they gradually calmed as Minho rejoined the kids and their parents, accepting their thanks and seeing them out of the store front.

When he returned, he found Kibum hanging his painting up to dry as well. Minho looked away before he turned around, starting to gather up the used paint palettes.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Minho frowned, shaking his head, starting at the sound of an easel being folded up. “Do these just go in the store room?”

“Uh, yeah, I can get…them…though,” he said, his voice trailing off as Kibum took it back, letting himself in the back room.

He made quick work of the easels, and Minho finished cleaning off the palettes when he came out after putting the last one away. “What next?”

“Really, you can just sit and relax.” After a few seconds of hesitation, Kibum did, but Minho could feel his eyes on him as he walked around, straightening things just to have something to do with his hands. “So, what are you wanting? For the painting, I mean.”

Kibum’s eyebrows slowly rose. “I’m not sure, really.”

“Well,” he let out a sigh, his eyes flicking to and away from Kibum. “Landscapes are what I usually do, as you can tell from, well…” He gestured to all the pictures around the room. “I used to drive around to find views that interested me, but—“

“Used to?”

“I don’t have time anymore.”

“How come?”

“I don’t take any days off,” Minho said with a quiet laugh. What was the point of time off when you weren’t gonna do anything besides work anyway?

Kibum’s brow furrowed so quickly that it was almost funny. “What?” Minho shrugged, and Kibum pondered him for several long seconds. “Okay, then. Would you be alright with taking some time off to show me around?” Minho was about to protest, but Kibum cut him off. “This is my first time in Jeju, and I want this piece to be meaningful, you know? And it won’t be unless I see it for myself, right?”

He…supposed he couldn’t argue with that. Minho nodded, and Kibum’s confused concern melted into a smile.

“When would work best for you?”

After some one-sided debate, the conclusion they came to was that Minho would take not this but next Sunday off. He put it off that long just so he could mentally prepare himself, but Kibum seemed happy enough with it, because it meant that they’d be able to narrow down places for Minho to take him. Which also, apparently, meant that Kibum dropped in nearly every day. Just for a little while. Sometimes with a coffee for him. He’d look at Minho’s pictures and talk with him about the locations so he could decide where he wanted to go on their rapidly nearing excursion.

While he wasn’t quite sure why Kibum had to come in every day to do this, he was surprised to find that he didn’t mind too much.

In fact, he sort of looked forward to it.

By the time the Sunday rolled around, he was a bundle of nerves, but there was a bit of excitement tangled in there. As much as he wanted to tamp down the thought, he was starting to consider Kibum a friend—or as close to a friend as he’d let himself have in a very long time.

Which, now that he thought about it—laying awake in bed as the night crept by, waiting for the sun to rise—it was sort of pathetic.

They barely knew each other. Kibum was just being friendly, not a friend.

This was all just for his commission.

Minho sighed, rolling over onto his side, staring now at the dark, bare wall instead of the ceiling. But he didn’t sleep. As soon as the day dawned, he dragged himself out of bed and searched high and low in his closet for something that didn’t have paint on it. Wait, what would the weather be like today? He finished zipping up his jeans and grabbed his phone to check it.

Hm, a little warm, but it’d cool down later…

He threw on a plain black t-shirt that only had a couple splatters of cadmium yellow, phthalo green, and raw sienna on it and grabbed his black sweatshirt to stick in the back seat if it got too cold later. As soon as he finished tying his shoes, there came a knock from downstairs, so Minho grabbed his wallet, keys, and phone and hurried down, looking instinctively at the storefront door.

Only, no one was there. Had he imagined it?

Frowning, he went to the back door, expecting for no one to be there. But when he opened the door, Kibum was resting against the hood of his car, glancing back down the alley at Jonghyun and Taeyeon unloading groceries from their car.

He was wearing a bright shade of orange today. A little more vibrant than a tangerine. Cadmium yellow with a bit of alizarin crimson and…white. Maybe some burnt umbre, to round it out, but just a touch of it.

Kibum turned his head as Minho closed the door behind him, holding a coffee to him as he stood straight. “You ready?” he asked with a small smile.

Minho nodded, stepping forward to take the coffee from Kibum before he unlocked his car. Taeyeon yelled something from the other side of the alley, but whatever it was, Minho didn’t catch it as he slipped behind the wheel. Kibum called something back before Minho leaned across the passenger seat to open the door for Kibum, whose hands were full with his own coffee and what looked like a bag of pastries from Sooyoung’s bakery.

“Here, hold these,” he said, shoving both the coffee and bag toward Minho before he closed his door. Minho quickly set his drink in one of the cup holders, then dropped Kibum’s into the other as he buckled up.

“Take whichever one you want,” Kibum said, gesturing at the bag. “I figured you’d skip breakfast. And, even if you didn’t”—He looked up, flipping the visor down to fix how his fringe was laying—“I think it’s pretty impossible to reject a croissant.”

Sniffing a laugh, Minho peeked into the bag, a bit of steam caressing his face as he pulled out one of the croissants and held the bag back out to Kibum. He took it after a few seconds, looking over at Minho expectantly. “Do you have an aux cord?”

. He didn’t. He shook his head, and Kibum unbuckled quickly. “Hold on then, I’m gonna go steal Jjong’s.”

He darted across the alley, and Minho sipped his coffee, watching him slip inside the restaurant. After a second of thought, he started the car, driving slowly up to the restaurant and parking behind the back door. Kibum soon emerged with the keys to Jonghyun’s car, followed by Jonhgyun, who diverted toward Minho’s car when he noticed him. Minho quickly rolled down his window as Jonghyun leaned in.

“Where all are you guys going?”

“Uh,” Minho listed the beaches he was taking Kibum to that he could remember off the top of his head.

Jonghyun nodded seriously, though he had a hint of a smile in his eyes. “Will you be back in time for dinner?”

“That’s the plan, but, we’ll see I guess.”

“Well, just have Kibum text one of us if you’re not so we don’t worry, alright?” Minho nodded, both of them glancing over at the passenger side when Kibum got in. “Behave,” he said, in a much sterner voice, to Kibum.

“You’re not my mother,” Kibum muttered as he plugged the aux cord into Minho’s car, then his own phone.

“I could be, you never know.”

Minho coughed a laugh, glancing back at Jonghyun. His eyes darted to meet Minho’s gaze, and he winked. Kibum turned the volume up a little louder than Minho was expecting, a girl group song he didn’t recognize blaring in his speakers. He turned to find Kibum flipping Jonghyun off, then he tapped Minho’s knee.

“Just start driving before he tries to come with us.”

Gently, he pushed Jonghyun’s arm off the sill before he shifted the car into drive, then he waved goodbye to him before he returned his attention to driving.

Kibum turned the volume down as soon as they reached the road, then rolled down his own window. “Where are we heading first?”

“To get gas.”

“What if that’s what I end up wanting my painting of?”

“Of the gas station?” he asked, sparing him a quick glance to see him nodding before he looked back at the road. “Then we could have walked there, I guess.” Kibum chuckled, shaking his head a little when Minho looked over at him again.

Kibum went inside as Minho filled his car up, coming back out with a bag of snacks and drinks that he tossed in the backseat. And then, they were officially off, following the coast. It really was a pleasant day, both opting to keep their windows down as Minho drove, and Kibum just turned the music up a little louder to compensate when it was a song he really seemed to like.

The beaches were all a bit too populated for Minho’s liking, but Kibum didn’t seem to mind. Minho followed his meandering trail around the lounging or roudy beach-goers, his camera in hand in case there was something particularly scenic that caught his eye.

But, so far, nothing.

By their third beach with no good shots, worry was starting to gnaw at Minho’s mind. Was he upset that they hadn’t found anything yet?

As Minho pulled back out onto the road, Kibum’s hand rested on his shoulder as he twisted around, reaching for the snack bag. “Salty or sweet?” he asked as he turned back around and rummaged through the bag.

“Salty.” Nodding, Kibum grabbed the salty snack, turning back around to drop the bag back behind them before he opened it. “We’re going to Sagye next. It’s one of my favorite spots,” Minho said quickly, as if to explain, to make up for not doing well on this road trip.

If that were even possible.

Kibum held the bag out for him to take some of whatever it was—something seaweed flavored, judging by the smell. “One of your favorites?” he asked, a hint of a smile in his voice. Minho tore his gaze from the road to see the smile for himself before he grabbed a small handful of the snack. “Why’s that?”

Minho shrugged, popping a few in his mouth and relishing the crunch of them before he answered, “It’s close to Mt. Sangbansan, which catches the clouds sometimes. And that’s cool. It’s really pretty at sunset, too. And sunrise. Much more colorful.” And much quieter.

Kibum hummed, reaching in to take some of the chips for himself. “So what you’re saying is we should go back at sunset.”

“Only if you want to,” Minho said quickly, and he could feel Kibum watching him but he didn’t look away from the road.

“How much farther do we have to go until we reach it?”

“Ten, fifteen minutes. Depending.”

Kibum let out a muffled okay as he ate a few more chips, and as Minho was trying to come up with an apology for how badly this was going, Kibum sighed. “This is so nice.” Minho blinked once, not daring to take his eyes away from the road. “I forgot how much I like driving around. But then,” he laughed, and Minho glanced over at him. “Driving in the city isn’t exactly relaxing, is it.”

Minho sat back in his seat, allowing himself to relax at last, and shook his head. “Not from what I remember, no.”

“Oh? Did you not grow up here?” When Minho didn’t respond right away, Kibum continued, “Jjong and Taeng did, so, I just assumed…”

“Uh, no, I didn’t.”

So much for relaxing. His chest started to constrict, tendrils of anxiety wrapping around him, closing around his throat.

“Are you from Seoul originally? Or—“

“No.”

There must have been something in his choked voice that told Kibum to drop it, because he fell silent, and Minho started breathing normally again when he could feel him look away. Guilt soon replaced the anxiety. Why’d he have to ruin this? Kibum had just said he was having a nice time, and he had to—

“Oh! Sagye!” Kibum said, pointing through the windshield, and Minho sat up a little straighter, going a little faster to reach the parking lot, eager to get a bit of space again.

He leaned against the car once he was parked and outside again, allowing himself a few deep breaths before he succumbed to Kibum’s call drawing him onto the beach.

He couldn’t stop the flood of memories, the flashing images, the sounds echoing in his head. Crying, yelling, accusing. So clear, still, as if it had happened just yesterday. Might as well have, if he were being honest, with how little progress he had made in the passing years.

“Minho!” Kibum called for him again, and Minho picked up his pace, hurrying over to him. When he tried to link their arms, Minho stepped away before he could. He didn’t seem perturbed, however, since Minho walked alongside him, just at a slight distance. “It’s really pretty here.”

Minho nodded absently, looking up and covering his eyes so he could see the mountain better. “Here, come this way,” he said, leading Kibum through the few clusters of people at the beach. “It’s high tide now, so people won’t be here, but come sunset the tide should be lower, so we can walk out here a bit,” he said, coming to stand on a craggy rock, and Kibum came up beside him, steadying himself by grabbing Minho’s arm, but only for a second. “If you like this spot, that is.”

He glanced at Kibum, pleased despite his anxiety to find him smiling. “I do. But, I would like to see it at sunset.”

Minho nodded and hopped off the rock, standing still so Kibum could lean on his shoulder as he did the same. “I…I don’t just do oil painting all the time,” he said as he started leading them back to the car. “I like to try different mediums if I can get my hands on them, and…and this is my favorite place to come to when I work on practicing watercolor painting.”

“Do you use the sea water for it?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any of them hanging up in your shop? I don’t think I saw any watercolor paintings.”

“Uh, no, I don’t. I have them in a notebook in my apartment.”

There was a pause, and Minho was sure that Kibum was gonna ask him if he could see them. Which, the answer to that was a definite no. It wasn’t anything especially private. Just practicing painting the sky in all its variations of colors and cloud shapes. There was just something he loved about the sky that he…it felt too personal to share with someone else.

For whatever reason.

Maybe someday he’d show him. Or anyone, really. Just not…now…

Minho unlocked the car, letting them both inside.

“So, what should we do until sunset? When is it today, anyways…” He dug out his phone, flicking to the weather app.

“I’m not sure.” There were more beaches along the way, but…

“Oh,” Kibum said, looking up from his phone. There’s this market that I’ve been wanting to go to since I got here.” He snapped his fingers. Minho made his way out of the parking lot and to the road, hesitating there so he’d know which way to turn. “Oh right! It’s called Jungang Underground…? I think? It’s in Seogwipo,” he added, and Minho turned to the right, picking up a bit of speed.

Kibum looked it up on his Maps app, and Minho followed the directions that interrupted Kibum’s music.

“I’ll look up a place to eat, too.”

Minho’s eyes flicked away from the road for a second, and he cleared his throat. “Can you let Jonghyun know? That we won’t be home for dinner.”

“Yeah, okay sure.” In what seemed like only a few seconds, he added, “He says ‘okay’ and ‘I hope you’re having a good time!’“ He texted a quick response, then slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Are you getting thirsty?”

When he nodded, Kibum reached around to grab their drinks.

While Minho was still antsy, waiting for more prying questions, Kibum didn’t seem to mind the silence. Though, he had been spending a bit of time with Minho almost everyday since he arrived, so he had to be used to it by now. They arrived in the city before Kibum could ask more about his old home, though, now that he really thought about it, the subject had been dropped long enough that Kibum probably wasn’t thinking about it any longer.

“There’s one,” Kibum said, shaking Minho’s arm and pointing across the street to an empty parking spot. They had spotted the sign for the shopping center about ten minutes ago, and had been driving around the block since then searching for a place to park Minho’s car.

He eased into the spot, checking the street to make sure there were no cars coming before he got out and joined Kibum on the sidewalk.

“I think it was this way,” Kibum said, and Minho hurried to keep up with his quicker pace as they raced to the underground shopping center.

An overwhelming number of clothing stores greeted them. There were other stores too, but Kibum was drawn particularly to the clothes. He’d make comments here and there to Minho—about the combination of colors of this, the feel of the fabric on that, how he’d been looking for the name brand version but it was way too expensive so he had to try this on. Minho nodded at it all, perusing the racks alongside him.

He was certainly drawn to very bright shades, which wasn’t surprising. He was a vibrant person. He could pull them off effortlessly.

Kibum looked back at him, holding up a gauzy yellow shirt to Minho. “I know it’s probably a bit more than you’re used to but…” He cocked his head to the side, inspecting the shirt critically. Minho looked down at it, finding it not to be just yellow, but rather a variety of shades spreading over the fabric like brush . From as light and bright as cadmium yellow to as warm and rich as gold ochre. “I think you’d be able to pull it off.”

Minho smoothed the fabric over his chest. “Really?”

But before Kibum could respond, his phone rang. “,” he muttered, letting go of the shirt while Minho was holding onto it so he could grab it. “Oh, it’s my sister. Do you mind?”

Minho shook his head, and Kibum turned away, trailing down the rack as Minho followed him, still clutching the yellow shirt. He started to say hello, but was cut off by his sister. Then he chuckled, pulling out another shirt to look at before shaking his head and shoving it back in its place.

“Hey, would you relax? I just forgot, that’s all. Mhm. No,” he said with a laugh as Minho stopped, pulling out a pale blue and green striped shirt. “I’m hanging out with my friend all day today, that’s why I haven’t yet.”

Minho froze in his place, staring unblinkingly, unseeingly now at the shirt before him.

Friend? Did he just…did he imagine..?

Warm relief bloomed within him, soothing his mounting anxiety until it was almost non-existent. Well, non-existent for him at least.

He could just be saying that because you’re right here and doesn’t want to speak his mind, he reminded himself, but even that thought wasn’t enough to end his sudden sense of calm.

Absently, he grabbed the shirt he had been looking at and threw it over his arm with the yellow one, following Kibum to the next rack over. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice that Kibum had hung up the phone until he called his name. Minho looked up, surprised to find Kibum standing before a mirror, taking a picture of their reflection.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked, holding Minho’s gaze through the mirror. “I promised I’d send a picture to my sister everyday of what I was doing.”

“No, go ahead.”

After he sent the picture, he received three texts in rapid succession as he made to stuff his phone in his pocket. Kibum held it up, scoffed at the screen, and met Minho’s gaze in the mirror before shoving his phone back in his pocket. “She’s so…” he let his voice trail off as he rolled his eyes, and Minho cracked a smile, returning his attention to the clothes.

“Is she older than you, or..?”

“She’s younger.” He dug out his phone again, swiping another notification from her away before he pulled up his instagram profile and scrolled down a little before turning his phone to show Minho. “She’s cute, huh?”

It was a picture of Kibum and her at brunch. The resemblance was definitely there, even with Kibum's clear attempt at an awkward smile and the evident laugh glimmering in her eyes.

Minho smiled and nodded.

“She’s knows it, too. Uses it against me.”

Another text notification flashed across the screen, but Kibum turned his phone back around before Minho could read so much as the name. “What’s her name?”

“Yerim. But literally everyone calls her Yeri.” Minho nodded again, still smiling as he went back to sifting through the clothes before them. “Do you have siblings?”

His heart stuttered, and he fumbled with the sweater he had pulled out to look at until it was hanging back on the rack. What was the harm in answering that? It was a simple question, even if he hadn’t heard from him since.

But, if Kibum considered them to be friends, too, then…

Minho cleared his throat. “Just one. An older brother.”

“Do you get along well with him, too?”

“I did.”

Minho couldn’t make himself look away from the clothes, even if he wasn’t seeing them at the moment, but in his peripheral vision, he saw Kibum nod and glance away from him. Thankfully, he didn’t ask anything else, distracted now by a sweater with sharp, jagged slashes of black cutting through a mottle of white and chartreuse knit.

“What do you think? Is it too much?” He held it up to himself, turning back toward the mirror and inspecting himself. But before Minho could decide on his input, Kibum scrunched up his nose, shook his head, and returned it to the rack.

He picked out a few things, though nothing quite as vibrant and busy as the yellow shirt Kibum had chosen for him. Once Kibum finished buying his own clothes, they made their way back to the car, Minho setting his smaller bag next to Kibum’s larger one.

“Where to eat now…” Kibum said to himself, pulling out his phone again as Minho pulled out onto the road. “Oh…that sounds good. Let me check their instagram.” Minho glanced over at him, finding him concentrating on scrolling, before he returned his attention to the road. “It’s close to Mt. Sangbansan! So we shouldn’t have too far to go to get to the beach, which means we can relax for dinner.”

“What do they have on the menu?”

“Let me check again.”

He listed off a few things, but the one that stuck in Minho’s mind was the bacon ragu pasta, and he kept mulling it over until it came time to place their orders at the One and Only cafe. Kibum got the rosé pasta, and a Sanbang Mountain dessert to split once they had finished their dinners.

Kibum sipped his water as he looked around at the stunning view of the mountain, the lush foliage around the cafe, and the sleek, modern cafe itself. “Cute place, isn’t it?”

Minho hummed and nodded, picking at his nails as he glanced about the room. It was odd. After eating alone for so long, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do? He looked across the table at Kibum so he might have some sort of clue to find him fiddling with his phone.

“Do you mind getting a few shots of me?” he asked, handing his phone to Minho. When Minho just stared blankly at him, Kibum laughed, taking his phone back and opening up his instagram again. “See,” he said, scrolling down a bit to a picture of him in a restaurant. Then a little further, another couple pictures. “It’s just something I like to do.” He swiped back to the camera app, holding his phone out to Minho.

He took it, positioning it to get Kibum in the frame.

“Just take a few so I can pick my favorite.”

“Okay.” He snapped a few, making slight angle changes as Kibum shifted with each snap. “We don’t even have our food yet, though,” Minho said as he handed him back his phone.

Kibum chuckled, taking it back to do a quick appraisal of Minho’s work. “We’ll just have to take more then, hm?”

“I guess.”

Kibum threw him a look he couldn’t quite decipher as he set his phone aside, leaning his elbows on the table. “I just like documenting where I go, you know? It’s nice to be able to look back on fond memories.” Minho’s eyebrows rose slowly as he searched Kibum’s gaze. “Besides, I try to keep my instagram as aesthetically pleasing as possible to help my shyer clients have an idea of what they should post.”

“Clients?”

Kibum’s brow furrowed for a second, the faint wrinkles clearing the next second. “Right, I haven’t mentioned it yet. I’m a social media manager for an entertainment company.” Minho must have looked shocked, because Kibum laughed loudly. “Don’t look too surprised.”

“Do you like doing that?”

“Oh, of course, I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t.” He cocked his head to the side, dimples appearing as he smiled again. “Which reminds me, can I see your shop’s instagram? I’ve been curious about it.”

“I don’t have one.”

It was Kibum’s turn to look shocked. Minho gave him a sheepish little shrug and a smile. “Well,” he said, leaning away from the table as their waitress came around with their dinners. “We can get that started tomorrow, then.”

“Oh, no, you really don’t have to do that.” Kibum speared him with another unreadable look as he twirled his fork in his pasta. “Not on your vacation.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” He passed Minho his phone again. “Just like three more, but be quick so your dinner doesn’t get cold.”

Even if it wasn’t his usual quiet bowl of jjamppong while watching tv, it was still a nice dinner. Maybe…some nights…when he got back home, he’d be able to have his dinner in the cafe instead of always taking it home.

Kibum’s eyes lit up as the miniature of Mt. Sanbangsan made out of chocolate covered mousse was set between them. He grabbed his phone as Minho picked up one of the spoons the waitress brought with the plate, but Kibum batted it aside so he could get a picture of it first.

Minho watched him, amused, until he pulled his phone away to look through his pictures. “Am I allowed to start eating it now?”

Kibum glanced up at his phone, snorting as he smiled. “Leave some for me, please.”

That he could do. Minho carved off a bite of the chocolate mousse mountain, finding a layer of caramel between the mousse and layer of cake below that. He hummed as he ate it, and only took two more bites before Kibum set his phone aside and joined him.

“Is it good?” Kibum asked, his spoon poised to take some for himself, but before he could, Minho impulsively grabbed the edge of the plate, pulling it closer to him. “Hey…” he said, pouting a little until Minho caved, grinning, and pushed it back, a little closer to him than it was before.

Shaking his head, Kibum got a spoonful of their dessert for himself, narrowing his eyes at a still smiling Minho before he ate it. “Is this gonna be a habit now?”

“What?”

“Being a bastard just for the fun of it.”

Minho blinked rapidly, but before he could apologize, Kibum smiled faintly and looked back down at the dessert, getting another bite.

They left the One and Only as the sun was nearing the horizon, returning to the road and making their way back to Sagye Beach. The beach was empty once they arrived. Everyone who had been there previously must be on their way to dinner or back to their hotels for the night.

The sun was sinking lower and lower, gilding the crests of the incoming waves, setting the underbellies of the clouds reaching across the shore aglow. A smooth mass of a cloud was clinging to the craggy peak of the mountain. It stretched far inland, nearly reaching where the night had begun to set in. The sky was almost fully pink now, save for the orange glow on the horizon where the sun was struggling to remain afloat above the sea.

Minho looked back at Kibum to find him drawing nearer of his own accord, looking about in wonder at the sky. He glanced down at Kibum’s shirt. Earlier this morning, he had compared it to a tangerine. But, looking back out at the glowing sun’s remaining light, he knew now it hadn’t been as accurate a comparison as this sunset.

“What about right there?” Kibum asked, nudging Minho’s arm and drawing his attention back to why they were there at all.

Minho captured several shots. The mountain presiding over the sunset, the sea returning to the shore, the sun’s last stand before it conceded the battle against the night. Kibum, while still following him, hung back as he moved around, getting closer, lower, finding the perfect angle to capture the rapidly fading light.

There was still a residual glow by the time he returned to Kibum, but it was fading fast as they made their way back across the beach to the car.

“Here,” Minho said, passing his camera to Kibum once he was buckled. “You can look through and see if you like any of them. If not, we can try again another day.”

“Oh, so pretty,” Kibum kept saying as Minho drove, flicking through the pictures. Minho smiled, keeping his focus on the road. “We don’t get sunsets like this in Seoul.”

“No? We did in Incheon.”

It had slipped out. Without a thought. He just…said it. Incheon.

“Yeah, well, you were on the coast. Makes sense.”

How could he have just said it? So…so effortlessly?

“Is that where you’re from?”

“Uh”—Wow, his throat was so dry—“yeah.”

“Probably why you chose to move here, huh?” No, it was because no one he knew was here, nor were they likely to come. Especially not to a small town like—“I’m glad I came. It’s been…such a relief to escape, to be honest.”

Yeah, he could relate to that.

“Are you dreading going home?” Minho asked, risking a glance at Kibum when the light from his camera screen disappeared.

“Yeah. A bit. It’s just so empty now, you know?” He shuddered, and Minho worried his bottom lip. “But I’m better off this way, I think. Without him.”

“Probably, yeah.”

“Sorry,” Kibum said with a clipped sigh. “You don’t need to hear all of this.” Then, he laughed. “My mouth runs when I get tired.”

“I don’t mind.”

He could feel Kibum looking his way, but it didn’t last long. It was good to talk about things—despite his own personal way of going about it—and…and if Kibum was his friend, it was his duty to listen, no? But, even so, the subject didn’t come up again. Silence between them returned, though it was filled by Kibum’s playlist playing softly so as to not disturb the night.

Kibum sat up when they reached the edge of the town, directing Minho where his cousins lived, which only happened to be a few streets away from their cafe. Minho pulled up to the house, parking the car as Kibum unplugged the aux cord and wrapped it around his phone. Minho fiddled with the steering wheel, resisting the urge to look over at Kibum until he did. He met his tired eyes, and Kibum gave him a small smile.

“Thanks for taking me out today, it was fun hanging out with you for a while.”

Fun? Fun…hanging out? With him?

“You’re lying,” Minho said before he could stop himself, but Kibum just laughed, giving him a half-hearted shove.

“What? Did you not like hanging out with me? I see how it is,” Kibum said quickly, a pout rapidly creeping into his voice.

“No, no, no, I didn’t mean that. I’m just…surprised.”

“Cut yourself some slack. You can be fun when you want to be.” Minho couldn’t even begin to think of a reply to that, but he stopped trying when Kibum yawned and stretched. “I’ll get the clothes I bought when I come over tomorrow, okay? Okay. Bye,” he said, drawing out the farewell cutely while he opened the door. He let himself out and closed it behind him.

Minho watched him go, rolling down the passenger window and leaning across the seat. “Kibum!” He turned back around, and though he was cast in shadow, Minho could feel his expectancy. “I had fun with you today, too!”

“Oh, honey, I know.”

Minho snorted a quiet laugh, then said, “Bye!”

Kibum waved and turned back around, and Minho waited until he was inside before he headed home.

He was still smiling, albeit faintly, by the time he crawled into bed, and his last thought before drifting off to sleep was that he missed the new episode of his drama.

Ah…well, surely there was a way to watch it before the next episode aired.

Right now, he couldn’t really bring himself to care all that much.

* * * * *

The lights were all off inside as Kibum closed the door behind him. Squinting to see a bit better, he slipped out of his shoes and tiptoed to his and Jonghyun’s room. A faint yellow glow emanated from the crack below the door. Was he still awake?

Actually, that was a dumb question.

Sighing heavily, he pushed open the door, his gaze landing on Jonghyun, who immediately cast aside his manga. “How’d it go? Did he have fun? Did you make him take those pictures of you at dinner?”

Kibum stared at him incredulously.

“What? Did he not have fun?”

“Were you wondering about me at all or just him?”

“Just Minho.” Kibum scoffed loudly, shaking his head as he tugged his shirt off. “What? This isn’t new for you, it’s very new for him. Do you know how long it’s been since he hasn’t gotten dinner from us?” Kibum glanced over his shoulder before digging around in his suitcase for his pajamas. “Probably like two years. This is huge for him.”

“Don’t worry, he did have fun.” Jonghyun visibly relaxed, and Kibum grabbed the first matching set of pajamas he laid eyes on and made for the door. Bed springs creaked behind him, and he looked to find Jonghyun following him. “Am I not allowed to get ready for bed in peace?”

Jonghyun sank back on his bed. “You’ll tell me everything when you get back?”

Kibum rolled his eyes and left the room, making his way down the dark hallway to the bathroom.

Two years was an awfully long time to be getting the same dish from the same cafe every night for dinner. He flicked on the light and quickly changed into his pajamas before clipping back his hair so he could start his face washing routine.

What was there to tell, really? They went to a few beaches, went clothes shopping, and had dinner. A fairly average day off. Well, not for Minho, of course, but… He rinsed his cleanser off his face, reaching for the next product.

He did have fun. He hadn’t been lying to Minho about that. But there were moments where Joonwoo was viscerally brought back to mind. At dinner, mostly. He’d always been the one to take the pictures for Kibum. And, well, it wasn’t as if they ever shared desserts because they had vastly different tastes, but whenever Kibum tried to take some of his he would have pulled the plate away, too. Only to relent a few seconds later.

Kibum scrubbed his cheeks a little too hard, wincing when he pulled his hands away. No, he hadn’t been able to escape him today. Minho being so quiet didn’t really help all that much, either.

Still, it had been fun. He hadn’t lied to Minho. That would have been cruel. He seemed to gradually be warming up to him, which was nice to see. Still hesitant to share really personal things, but then he couldn’t fault him there. Hopefully, by the time he had to go home next month, Minho would be feeling a bit more comfortable with the world in general.

He finished washing his face and patting it dry before he brushed his teeth. Jonghyun was still sitting up, eagerly waiting for him, when he got back into the room. Kibum sighed again and flipped his suitcase closed before flopping down on his bed, facing Jonghyun.

“What all do you want to know?”

Jonghyun didn’t let him stop until he’d given him every minute detail of the day, which was honestly a bit much, but hey, he was just excited. Kibum grabbed his phone when Jonghyun finally laid down, opening his messages with Yerim.

[18:43]

Oppa…

Are you on a date right now?

He’s so cute?????

Who is he? How did you meet?

[19:21]

Oppaaaaa~ are you ignoring me?

 

Whatever, enjoy your date~ tell

me everything~~ I hope it went well~~~

[19:52]

Oh, so it really was a date???

That pasta looks good

A date? Really? Kibum sniffed, scrolling back up to the semi-blurry picture of him and Minho he had taken earlier. Minho was just behind him, looking into the mirror because he called his name. Kibum zoomed in on Minho himself, critically inspecting him.

Alright, yeah, she had a point. He was sorta attractive. Or, he would have been if Kibum were actually interested in anyone right now. But he was so quiet and reserved…Joonwoo had been, too. Still lively, in his own way, but…no. Nope. Not thinking about him again. And not dating ever again so it didn’t matter if Minho were his type anyways.

Which, he wasn’t.

So there.

He plugged his phone in to charge and rolled over, facing the wall. But sleep didn’t come for what felt like hours, and his eyes were gritty when Jonghyun shook him awake.

“We’re heading out soon, didn’t you want to come with us?”

Kibum groaned something that might have been yeah, but he didn’t rouse himself more than that for several more minutes. When he finally pulled himself out of bed, he dressed lethargically—but carefully—before heading down the hall to where Taeyeon and Jonghyun were waiting for him.

“Do you want breakfast before we go?” Taeyeon asked, watching him with slight concern. He just shook his head and yawned, following the pair of them out to the street.

They went shopping for groceries, Kibum trailing behind them sleepily as they bickered over what they actually needed for the day. He helped them unload it the bags into the kitchen before he started heading all the way down the alley to Minho’s shop.

Maybe it’s too early for him. Well, whatever. He knocked on the backdoor, not really expecting Minho to answer it after that. But the door opened almost immediately, startling Kibum.

“Oh, hey!” Minho said with the brightest smile Kibum had seen him wear to date. “Sorry, I was just…come in!”

He opened the door wider, letting Kibum in.

Ah, he’d been in the store room, that’s why he had been so quick.

“I was just cleaning the canvas so I could get started on your painting,” he said, taking him through into the studio. There was a laptop he’d never seen before in all his visits to the studio, and on the screens were Minho’s pictures from yesterday. “Go ahead and look through these again and pick your favorites. I’ll go make us some coffee.”

Kibum turned, watching him disappear up the stairs before he angled the laptop toward himself.

They were all pretty, but one in particular stood out. The wave in the picture was just receding, and there were clusters of seafoam sticking to the sand in streaks. The sky was such bright shades of pink and orange with a bit of purple creeping in. Puffy lines of clouds were strewn across the sky, and the mountain in the distance, boldly shadowed in the oncoming night, was capped with a sleek, almost dome shaped cloud. He was still staring at it when Minho came downstairs, only tearing his gaze away to look up at him as he handed him his coffee.

“I really like that one, too.”

“Yeah, it’s so…dynamic.” Was that the right word? Did he get enough sleep last night to care?

Minho’s brow furrowed as he looked at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just really tired.” He plopped down in one of the nearby empty seats, dragging his hands over his face. “Jonghyun kept me up late talking, that’s all.”

“Oh…” When he looked up at him, he found Minho looking around the studio before his gaze flicked upstairs. “Do you need to take a nap or something?”

“I mean, it sounds nice”—He met Kibum’s eyes for a second, looking conflicted—“but I’ll be fine.”

“If…if you need to, you can crash on my…on my couch.” He let out a shuddering breath, as if he were relieved to get the words out. Then, a lot quicker, he added, “Besides, I have to do the sketch first before we can talk colors and style, and that’d probably put you to sleep anyways.” He finished with an awkward little laugh, and Kibum sniffed in amusement.

“Are you sure?”

He hesitated, but he still nodded. And after a few more seconds of just looking at each other, Minho started upstairs again, and this time, Kibum followed him.

Banisters protecting the stairwell were on either side of it, splitting the room in two. To the left, on one side lay a kitchenette with a small fridge, a stovetop, and a tiny countertop oven that looked like it had never been used, and on the other was a neatly made bed with a dresser pushed up against the back wall. To the right, a tv positioned right up against the banister with a small couch sitting before it, and behind that, a balcony overlooking the street and the sea.

Odd that there was no artwork on the walls up here. Maybe he was just sick of looking at it downstairs and didn’t want to be reminded of work in his home.

Minho was fidgeting with his hands as Kibum looked around at the small space. “Oh, a blanket. Let me get you one.”

Kibum watched him dart off, digging in the drawers of his dresser for one. Only, when he looked back around, he found one draped across the back of the couch. “Min—“ Minho jumped at the sound of his voice. “—ho, there’s already one out.”

“Oh. Right. Okay.” He took a step toward the stairs, glancing down them. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

He took a couple steps down before he cast a fleeting glance at Kibum, then hurried all the way down. Kibum looked around, humming in thought. This space probably suited him really well, but it was just so small compared to his own place back home, he couldn’t imagine living here… He made his way over to the couch, sitting there for a second, listening to Minho moving around downstairs before he pulled the blanket over him and curled up on the couch.

There was a faint, almost floral scent clinging to the fabric. He must have recently washed it.

Kibum watched the reflection of the slowly shifting clouds outside in the blank screen of the tv as his eyes started to droop. It sounded like Minho was painting now. Wait, already? Or maybe he was just sketching like he said he would. For a second, he thought about getting up to go inspect for himself, but he was too cozy now, and he dozed off before he could convince himself to move.

When he came to, he stared about the unfamiliar room in total confusion until his eyes landed on Minho in the kitchenette. Kibum rubbed his eyes quickly, sitting up a little straighter, the blanket slipped down around him.”How long was I out?”

Minho looked over at him, amusement brightening his expression for a second before he looked back at what he was making. Kibum self-consciously smoothed his hair. “A little while. It’s my lunchtime. Are…you hungry?”

“Yeah, a bit,” he said as his stomach growled ravenously at the mention of food. Thankfully, it wasn’t loud enough for Minho to hear.

“It’s almost ready, so you can just wait downstairs.”

Kibum stared at him for a second, trying to process what he said before he nodded and made his way downstairs.

Ah, so he had indeed just been sketching. Faint outlines of every major part of the picture had been transferred to the canvas. Which, had to have taken forever. Kibum stepped closer to it, trying to imagine what the finished project would look like when Minho’s footfalls sounded behind him.

He had two bowls in his hands, passing one of them to Kibum. Ah, bibimbap. He took the offered spoon with a grateful nod and stirred the contents of his bowl before taking a bite.

Hey, not bad.

“So, I was thinking about how to go about this,” Minho said, taking the seat at his workstation while Kibum took another bite.

“The painting?” Kibum asked, covering his mouth. Minho nodded. Kibum swallowed the rest of his mouthful. “Won’t you just do it like you usually would?”

Minho cracked a smile and cocked his head to the side before looking down at his lunch, scooping up a heaping spoonful but not eating it yet. “That’s what I thought at first, but…I have an idea.”

Kibum squinted, his eyebrow shooting up. “What is it?”

He met Kibum’s gaze for a second before he set down his bowl and stood, striding across the room to grab a bound notebook. “I just do these for fun usually. Like, warm-ups before I get to the actual paintings I sell.” He untied the knot, shifting the notebook for Kibum to see for himself. They were all still definitely landscapes, but they leaned more towards impressionism rather than his usual, more realistic style of art. Abstract too, with some of the color choices and extra brush . “I like experimenting with different styles when I can, because I like the challenge. And,” Kibum flipped the page, finding a painting of the shops on the boardwalk. “I was thinking that you’d prefer something like this.”

Kibum blinked a few times before he looked up.

“Like, with really saturated, bright colors, because you’re really drawn to them. It’d be a statement piece for your place.”

Just how much had he been paying attention to his preferences? Because he was spot on.

“Have you ever done a piece in this style on a canvas this size?” Minho shook his head, but his eyes were smiling. As if he couldn’t wait for the go-ahead to take on the challenge ahead. Kibum couldn’t help but smile in return. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it, then.”

To his surprise, Minho hurried back to his station, pulling out a much smaller sheet of thick paper and his palate before returning to the table Kibum was leaning against.

“What are you doing?”

“A quick practice one so I can decide on the colors.”

Oh. Made sense. Kibum sat on one of the stools, watching him sort through his tubes of paint for a few minutes before he asked, “Will you need the reference photo?”

“Not really, no.”

“Good.” He slid Minho’s laptop around, setting his bibimbap aside. Minho looked up at him, confused. “I’m gonna set up your instagram.”

“Personal or business?”

Oh god, did he not have either? He lived in Jeju, how on earth…

But then, he barely left his home or shop, so, he supposed that made sense.

“I can do both for you.”

He pulled Minho away from his paints long enough to type in his email and password so he could set up the accounts, then asked for his phone number so he could type it in.

“Oh, hey, do you mind if I put your number in my phone?” Kibum asked, already whipping it out and opening his contacts.

“Uh, no, that’s alright.”

Kibum typed it in quickly, opening up a new message between them. It’s me~

“Do you have any ideas for your handle?” he asked, setting his phone aside on the table.

“Handle?”

Kibum chuckled. “Like, your username.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” He shot Kibum a sheepish look that cracked both of them up. “Not really, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He typed out a few quick ideas, but they were either already taken or he didn’t like how they looked. “When’s your birthday?”

“December ninth,” Minho said, not looking up from mixing paint on his palate to make…was that fuschia? He looked up with a frown a few seconds later. “Wait, why?”

Kibum shook his head, playing around with a few more names including his birthday until he typed—“What about this?” he asked, spinning the computer around to show Minho choiminho_1209. He gave him an approving nod, and Kibum turned it back around to continue setting up the preliminary parts of the account—including setting it to private—before he switched over to making a business account for him.

Again, it took a few tries, but he decided on artists_choice, and when Minho gave the okay, he got to work.

Once both accounts were set up, Kibum picked his phone back up, following artists_choice first before requesting to follow choiminho_1209. He glanced across the table at Minho, who had just moved to get his brushes.

He hadn’t been kidding about a saturated array of colors. Purple, fuschia, orange, a spot of green, and blue. Some black, white and brown. A bit of bright yellow. They were stunningly bold, even on the messy palette, so he could only imagine how they’d come together for the finished piece.

“Hey,” Minho looked up after a few seconds, clearly distracted as Kibum reached for Minho’s discarded camera. “Is it alright with you if I get a few pictures around here?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, though Kibum wasn’t sure if he knew what he was agreeing to.

Minho started painting before Kibum even slipped off the stool, and Kibum left him to it as he made his way outside to get a shot of the front of the store. Then, back inside and out of the sweltering sun, he took some more. Of the interior of the storefront, of some of the paintings themselves. Then back to the studio, with some more close-ups of the paintings and photos on the walls, one of the easels set up with a painting that Kibum assumed was drying.

He stopped beside Minho, positioning the camera over his shoulder and watching his hands and the deft brushstrokes he was making with the orange paint for a few seconds before—

Click!

Minho jumped just as soon as he pulled his brush away to get more paint, hand over his heart with a breathy laugh as he met Kibum’s amused gaze.

“Did I scare you?”

“Would you believe me if I said no?” he asked, and Kibum shook his head, his smile growing. “Then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Kibum chuckled, heading back to his spot in front of the computer on the other side of the table. He waited for Minho to get back to painting before he snapped a few more pictures of him in his paint-smeared…well, everything. There was even a bit of fuschia smeared on his cheek. He was so engrossed in his work again that he didn’t even notice the clicking of the camera.

He took the sim card out and inputted it into Minho’s computer, selecting the photos he was satisfied with. He changed artists_choice’s profile to the one of the outside shot of the shop, then typed a bit in the description that Minho would hopefully update later. Then, just as he was finishing putting together a few drafts, Minho sat back, his eyes still on the practice painting, the biggest grin Kibum had seen him wear to date splitting his face.

“Alright, so this is just the concept for it, but what do you think?”

He turned the painting around to show Kibum, who leaned around the computer to inspect it for himself.

A bit messy and rushed, but that was to be expected, given how little time Minho had spent on it. But…even so, there were emotions there. His emotions, somehow. About Joonwoo, about his aching loneliness…He could see it all in the swirling colors that mirrored the chaos inside that he had struggled to contain with the constant drinking but now…looking at it… A sense of calm, of peace warmed over him. How? With that vibrant color palette, he had no idea. But, some of the tension that had been accumulating within him since that night he walked in on them in his bed released.

And this was only the practice painting.

He slumped back on his stool, and heaved a heavy sigh, not able to tear his gaze away until Minho asked quietly, “Is there something the matter with it?”

“No,” Kibum said, finally looking up and meeting Minho’s gaze with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the finished piece.”

It was nearly time for dinner when Minho finished clearing up for the day, and after he finished, Minho took him around back to get his clothes out of the trunk before they made their way down the alley to the cafe.

“Just go through the back,” Kibum said, nodding insistently when Minho hesitated. “They won’t care.”

Kibum opened the door for them, stepping in to get Jonghyun’s keys after Minho reluctantly made his way inside. He let himself into the car, tossing the bag in the backseat and locking it again before walking back inside. Taeyeon had stopped Minho at the hot plate, chatting cheerily at him despite his apprehension at being back here clearly shown by his overly wide eyes.

Kibum linked his arm with Minho, pulling him along. “Get back to work, Taeyeon,” he said as cutely as he could manage, which earned a laugh from Minho and a rude gesture from Taeyeon as he pulled Minho out behind the bar.

Jonghyun looked over at them, immediately looking again when he spotted Minho. “Wha—“

“Shh, Jjong,” Kibum said, his fingers slipping away from around Minho’s arm as they reached the edge of the bar. “Don’t bother us, we have business to do.”

“Business?” Minho asked, sitting on the stool beside Kibum.

“Yeah, I’m gonna explain Instagram to you while you wait for your food.”

It took until about ten minutes past when Taeyeon dropped off his to-go bag for everything to click in Minho’s mind. For a second, Kibum thought he was gonna stay and eat his dinner there but, after looking around at the full cafe and when the guy sitting on Minho’s other side accidentally bumped into him for the fifth time, Kibum knew it was a lost cause.

They said good night, both he and Jonghyun waving goodbye to him when he turned to do so at the door, Kibum watched him until he disappeared behind the edge of the cafe before turning on his stool to face Jonghyun.

“I don’t know what you're doing but…” His smile grew, and he looked back at the empty window. “Keep it up.”

Taeyeon brought Kibum out a bowl of jjamppong, too, and just as he was about to start on it, his phone screen lit up. He turned it toward him, looking down at it to find:

choiminho_1209 started following you!

Kibum watched the notification disappear with a smile.

* * * * *

Almost as soon as he opened his shop for the day, his storefront was flooded with tourists and customers, despite the looming promise of rain perfuming the air and coloring the clouds. He barely had a moment to work on any of his paintings, including Kibum’s. No, he was practically chained to his register with just enough room to walk around and talk about his paintings with the customers. He recommended a visit to whichever beaches he had taken references from, if they were especially drawn to a particular piece.

It had been like this for days, and he was exhausted.

When lunchtime rolled around, he’d decided to skip it, just so he’d have some peace of mind and a bit of time to work on any painting at all—but honestly, probably Kibum’s. He’d just finished stocking some of the empty slots in his dwindling back stock of already completed paintings and was about to flip his sign when the door opened.

He was barely able to mask his exhaustion with a smile as he turned to greet the new customer, only to find Kibum standing in the doorway watching him with amusement. Relief settled in his shoulders, his smile coming a little easier as Kibum said, “Oh, honey, is that your customer service smile?”

Minho let out a huff of a laugh. “It is today.” Kibum tucked the to-go bag from the cafe into his arm and turned to flip the sign for him. “Thank you.” He held up the bag, leaving it in Minho’s open hands as he passed him on his way into the studio. “What is it?” Minho asked, peering tentatively into the bag.

“Taeyeon made too many haemul pajeon for an order so she told me to give them to you, since I was already coming over.” He stopped at Minho’s station, looking blankly at the large canvas. “You haven’t painted any more since yesterday?”

Minho’s shoulders slumped, though not out of relief this time, as he trudged to join Kibum in his studio. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s been so busy here lately.”

“Oh?” Kibum looked back at him, his expression immediately brightening. “But that’s a good thing, right?”

“I mean, yeah.” Minho slipped around him, sitting before the canvas and looking up at Kibum. “But I’m tired of people.”

Kibum’s face didn’t exactly fall, but he definitely sobered a bit. “Do you need me to leave you alone?”

Minho immediately shook his head. “You’re alright. I like being around you.”

His smile returned, faint but pleased enough for a dimple to appear before he turned to sit at the table across from him. He declined the pancake Minho offered him, instead, choosing to sit on his phone in quiet company as Minho ate. It was nice. Almost like…when he put his phone to charge by his bed while he slept. Like the comfortable silence was recharging him. It did, enough at least for him to have the time to finish painting the purple base layer of the sea before his phone alerted him that lunchtime was over and he needed to get back to work.

It was a much quieter afternoon leading into the evening, with only a handful of people coming in. He couldn’t exactly blame them. In the few glimpses he had of the outside world, the weather-app-predicted storm was definitely brewing.

“How’s it looking out there?” Minho asked, taking his attention away from Kibum’s painting to look through the threshold at him. His lemon yellow shirt was exceptionally bright against the increasingly darkening clouds.

Kibum glanced back at him, shaking his head, only to jump a second later when the door rattled with a violent gust of wind. Minho jumped up as Kibum hugged himself and whipped back around to look at the storm, slipping around him to turn the deadbolt and flip the sign.

“I don’t think anyone else is—“

Lightning crackled over the sea before Minho could finish, both of them looking up as thunder rumbled.

“I think you’re stuck with me for a bit longer,” Kibum said, looking Minho’s way, even though Minho couldn’t tear his eyes away from the storm.

“You don’t have to stay here. If you’re quick, you might be able to—“

Again, Minho was cut off by lightning slicing through the air. Closer to the beach now. It was followed by a torrent of heavy rain and, in the time it took for Minho to look away from the storm to meet Kibum’s gaze, the power failing.

They were cloaked in near darkness, save for the grim gray light seeping in from the storm.

“You were saying?” Kibum asked, clearly amused. He turned away, heading back into the studio. “Do you have candles or anything?”

“Yeah. Upstairs.”

Kibum’s face was illuminated by another crack of lightning as he looked back around at him. “Do you want to bring it down, or…”

Minho had to remind himself to breathe. Where would they sit to wait the storm out? His bed? There was no way. The couch? Neither were good; neither would be okay. But that’d be weird, right? For him to refuse to join him on the couch? But what if he thought…he didn’t want him to think that he…that he would ever…or could ever…

“Minho?”

He blinked, the storefront and a very concerned Kibum coming back into focus.

“Are you alright?”

Minho cleared his throat and looked away. “No, it’s okay…we…we can both go up.” Kibum gave him a long, searching look before he turned and led the way to Minho’s apartment.

It was fine during the day with the sunlight and the promise of other people around. And in the car on their road trip last month, given that they were never too far from being with other people. Then it was fine being alone with him. But like this? In the dark?

His hands shook as he grabbed the candle from his dresser, turning to find Kibum making himself comfortable on the couch. Minho hurried to the kitchenette, searching for the lighter in the top left drawer. Once he grabbed it, he brought both over, setting the candle on the table and lighting it as another roll of thunder sounded. Kibum leaned closer to smell it as Minho moved back to set the lighter back in its place. Then, slowly, very reluctantly, he returned to the table between the tv and the couch and sat on the floor on the other side.

Kibum’s gaze flicked to meet Minho’s, and as much as he wanted to look away, he couldn’t. “What?”

“Am I taking up too much space on the couch?”

Minho shook his head, and when Kibum’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Because of me,” he said so quickly he wasn’t sure if it came out jumbled.

“Uncom…” Kibum sat back, still watching him, his concern etched a bit deeper now. “Have I given you that impression?”

“No!” If anything, he just looked more confused. “I just—“ How to explain? “Something happened. A while back. Before I moved here. And I don’t want to...to risk anything.”

Realization dawned and Kibum sat back a little, his face now hidden in flickering shadow. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Yes.

Minho blinked rapidly. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, let alone tell anyone what actually happened since, but…but would he be able to? The story was lodged in his throat now, a hard lump keeping him from speaking.

Kibum patted the cushion beside him, and when Minho hesitated still, he said, “I promise, you don’t make me feel uncomfortable.”

For now, at least.

It took every gram of willpower within him to stand, to move to join Kibum on the couch, even if he was as pressed against the armrest and away from Kibum as he could get. Kibum was still watching him, he could tell, but he couldn’t look away from the tiny flame.

“Do you want to know the whole story? About my ex?” Minho blinked, his eyes burning as he turned his attention from the candle to Kibum. He smiled, albeit sadly. “We met in college, and I was…to my embarrassment now, immediately enamored. We were in the same year—different majors, of course—but, you know how people like us find each other.” Minho nodded. “Anyways, we went out to the same party during the first week of the anniversary and then…”

His voice trailed off, as if he was lost in the memory.

“And then we were basically inseparable. He wasn’t my first kiss but he was my first time, which obviously didn’t help with my infatuation,” he said, cringing. “But we were happy.”

He squinted a bit, fiddling with his fingers as more lightning shattered the blooming darkness. “After college, we immediately moved in together. Into the place I live at now. At that point, we both had our own separate, surprisingly lucrative jobs that enabled us to stay in Seoul, despite our families wanting us to return to Daegu.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

Kibum nodded. “Isn’t that funny? We could have met at school, but, I guess we lived on opposite sides of town.” He let out a long sigh, neither of them speaking for several, rain-filled moments.

“We had even talked about marriage, despite us not being able to. Obviously.” Minho nodded again. “But a pair of friends of ours that we also knew from college had a secret commitment ceremony that we went to. I had been excited and wanted to do the same—in our own way, of course—but while I was daydreaming of that, I guess Joonwoo had met Daejung. The other guy,” he added quickly when Minho’s brow furrowed. “Joonwoo became really secretive afterward. Staying later and later at work. I, in my foolishness, thought that meant he was saving up for a ring, planning his proposal.

“I was taking a trip down to Daegu to surprise my mom for her birthday, and usually that’d mean that Joonwoo would join me and we’d visit his family, too. But he had to work. He’s a lawyer, claimed he had a new case he was working on.” Kibum rolled his eyes, sighing again. “So, I went alone, thinking that when I came back, I’d find him waiting to propose, but instead…instead I found them in my bed.”

Minho gasped quietly, and Kibum lifted his gaze to meet his wide eyes. “To make matters worse, I can’t make myself block him. Part of me, however small it actually is, wants him back. Even now.”

Minho stared at him until Kibum looked away. “He doesn’t deserve you, though.”

“You sound like Jjong.”

“He doesn’t, though. Not after all that.”

“See, logically, I know that, but…I don’t know, maybe someday I’ll let go.”

“I hope you can. For your sake.”

Kibum smiled forlornly at the flame, eventually meeting Minho’s gaze again. “So that’s why I came here, I guess. I needed the escape. You’ve helped me a lot, actually.” Minho’s eyebrows shot up involuntarily. “Don’t look so surprised,” he said, chuckling. “You’ve been a nice distraction.” How in the world had he been a distraction? Some of his question must have been legible in his expression, because Kibum added, “I don’t know how obvious it’s been, but I’ve been trying to befriend you.”

“Why?” Minho couldn’t stop himself from asking.

He surveyed Minho quietly for several long seconds, clearly thinking. “Jjong said something had happened”—Minho froze—“when you came out and”—his stomach curdled—“I wanted to help you. If I could.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Just that.” Minho stared unblinkingly at the flame, thunder filling the silence. “You’re not a charity case, Minho, and I hope you don’t think that’s how I regard you. I have come to think of you genuinely as a friend, and I look forward to the time we spend together. And…since you’ve helped me, I really would like to help you. If you’ll let me.”

He half-blinked, looking back at Kibum, his heart stuttering irregularly. “How can you help me?”

“I can listen.” The story was getting closer now. Ready to spill out of his mouth. After this long, he had had enough practice with repressing the urge to let it happen, but— “I promise, whatever you say won’t leave this room.”

It was time. It had festered long enough.

“His name was Yeunseo.”

Even that was a relief to say. Just his name.

“I was in love with him, and he with me. We had been since middle school. Our families had been really close, so it was only natural, really…” Tears? Already? He turned away from Kibum, brushing his cheek to swipe the tear away before Kibum noticed. “Neither of us were out to our family, but we’d been together since second grade of high school, and still together after we completed our military service. Separated though, of course. We didn’t want to risk being caught.”

He wiped his eyes again, not caring now if Kibum saw.

“We’d only been back for a few weeks and we were still all over each other whenever we were alone.” Minho let out a choked chuckle. “His parents were gone for the weekend, and I had told mine I was gonna hang out there for his birthday. So, we were gonna have two blissful days together. Absolutely alone.”

The words finally caught in his throat. He’d been expecting it to happen sooner, but this was also a good place for it to happen.

Kibum let the silence linger for a while, finally breaking it with the quiet question: “Were you not alone?”

“We were at first.”

Another long pause. “What happened?”

Minho averted his eyes, staring down at his folded hands. “Well, we started off with a romantic, home-cooked meal—Yeunseo was a really good cook—and got a bit…distracted while trying to clear up. They…his family a-and mine…they barged in. A surprise party,” he added weakly. “I don’t know which of us was the most surprised. But…he said…”

The words caught again, and it took several throat clearings to start him speaking again.

“He said I had forced him.” Kibum gasped, reaching across the couch to grab his hands, but Minho couldn’t stand the contact. He moved away, and Kibum released him, but didn’t return to his side of the couch. “That I came onto him. That I wouldn’t take no for an answer. But that wasn’t true. It never had been, he was just scared.”

He was crying in earnest now, the words mangled by his repressed sobs.

“Our fathers tried to…I don’t know. They beat me, though. Might have been trying to kill me if my mom hadn’t stopped them. Yeunseo just…he just watched them do it. I don’t think he could move.” Minho fell silent until he couldn’t bear it, then he added, “I lost everyone I’d ever known, that night.”

Minho sniffed loudly, turning away from Kibum and wiping his wet face with the inside of his shirt. “Have you seen any of them since?” Minho shook his head before lifting it out of the neck of his shirt. “Minho, I’m so sorry that happened.” He still couldn’t make himself meet Kibum’s eyes. “I understand why you’d be worried about making me—or anyone— uncomfortable just by being around you, but I guarantee that’s not the case. Not with me.” Minho relented, looking over at him. “Nor with Jjong.”

“Jjong?”

Kibum let out a loud, somewhat exasperated sigh. “He’s basically frothing at the mouth trying to be your friend. It’s okay!” he said quickly when Minho’s brow started to furrow again. “I understand why you’d be so…reclusive, now. After all that. But really—“

“But he pities me.” He said it with such vitriol that it surprised even him.

“Honey, you haven’t given him a chance to do much else.” Minho settled against the back of the couch, struck dumb. “I swear, if you give him even a hint of a genuine desire for friendship, he’ll take you along for the ride.” When Minho continued to stare at him, Kibum sighed again. “I know, it’s easier said than done. But you won’t ever recover from this unless you let yourself make some new roots here. New friends, new experiences…a new boyfriend, maybe.”

Minho shot him an incredulous look. Friends and experiences he could do eventually, but boyfriend? That seemed like too big of a risk to try for again.

“I know,” Kibum said with a laugh. “I’m feeling pretty against the idea of trying to date again, too. But who knows? Maybe you’ll get lucky again someday.”

Doubtful.

Still, he allowed himself to relax fully into the couch, his head slumping against the back of it. Why the did he feel sore? Had he been carrying the tension of that night with him all this time?

Is this what peace felt like?

It’d been so long, he’d forgotten.

The lights flickered back on downstairs, drawing both of their attention. Minho jumped off the couch, making his way across the room to flip on the lights of his apartment. As he did, he found Kibum halfway to the balcony to look outside. There was still a hint of thunder, though in the distance. Rain pittered lazily outside, no longer coming down in sheets.

Kibum looked up at him as he stopped beside him. “Should we go get dinner?”

“Sure.”

Minho led the way downstairs, flipping the upstairs light off, then the studio, then the storefront by the time Kibum joined him at the front door.

“Wait, Minho.” He cast Kibum a curiously nervous glance shocked to find him leaning closer, his arms wrapping around him in a…in a hug.

Every nerve was immediately alive as Kibum pulled him flush against him. His heart was beating wildly—were they close enough for Kibum to feel it? When Kibum rested his chin on Minho’s shoulder, Minho finally relented and turned his head, burying his face in his neck as he started to tear up again.

Kibum’s hands his back lightly. “I hope you feel better soon, Minho.”

“I hope the same for you.”

Minho’s eyes squeezed shut when Kibum held him tighter. Just for a few seconds. Then, Kibum started to release him, so Minho quite reluctantly let him go. His hands slid away from Minho’s sides as he looked up at him with a tired smile, and Minho repressed a sigh when Kibum’s hands finally slipped away from him.

The cool, dank night greeted them, starting both of them shivering on the short trek down the boardwalk to the cafe. Minho held the door open for Kibum to enter the cafe first, surprised at how empty it was.

“We’re cl—“ Jonghyun started to say as he pushed through the kitchen door, but cut short at the sight of them. “Did you lose power, too?” Both he and Kibum nodded. He gestured for them to hurry up to the bar, both of them choosing a stool right beside each other. “I’ll let Taeyeon know you’re here, Minho, so she can make your—“

“Oh, I’m not very hungry, so, uh, if she wants she can just make some more of those haemul pajeon. For here,” he added quickly, stifling a chuckle at the look of shock on Jonghyun’s face.

His wide eyes turned to Kibum for a second before returning to Minho. “I’ll go tell her.”

Kibum waited until Jonghyun slipped back into the kitchen before he swiveled toward Minho, knocking their knees together. “For here, huh?”

Minho shrugged with a small smile. “Gotta start sometime, don’t I?”

He returned the smile with a nod, but was unable to reply when Jonghyun burst back out the door. He grinned at Minho as he moved around the bar, hurrying to the front door to lock it.

“Here, we’ll sit at a table. Taeyeon is gonna join us.” Minho took the place beside Kibum and Jonghyun plopped down on his other side, still grinning.

Dinner was simple, but boisterously fun. The trio of cousins kept him laughing with embarrassing stories about the others from growing up. By the time he thanked them and said his goodbyes, the sense of peace that had begun in his apartment had filled him completely.

He’d be okay again.

Sooner rather than later, it looked like.

* * * * *

“What happened?”

“Yeah, what’d you do?”

Jonghyun and Taeyeon’s questions were rapid fire as soon as the door closed behind Minho.

Kibum had been drinking the last of his water, and he choked on it as he started to laugh. “Would you two relax?”

“No.” They said in near unison.

“We talked, okay?” Both of their eyes widened, Jonghyun starting to speak before Kibum cut him off. “He told me everything. And no, I’m not gonna say anything. If he wants to tell you, that’s on him.”

“Was it really bad?”

Kibum gulped, then nodded. He wouldn’t have wished that on anyone. Not even Daejung.

“Don’t smother him, though. Let him come to you.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?”

Pitying him, apparently. He couldn’t really blame Minho for keeping his distance, if that’s how he felt about it, but he also couldn’t blame Jonghyun for feeling that way either.

But things were looking up now, for both of them.

“Does he know you’re leaving next week?” Taeyeon asked. Kibum shook his head, sighing. “You should probably tell him.”

“I know.” And he would. Tomorrow probably, when he went over to keep him company in his studio.

He helped them clean until Taeyeon decided it was time for them to head home. He hopped into the backseat, glancing down the dark alley toward Minho’s shop as he pulled out his phone, unlocking it absently.

Joonwoo stared back at him.

He hadn’t had the heart to change his home screen yet.

But it was over. He had to admit that.

As much as he missed him, as much as he longed for him to return to him, he’d never be able to fully forgive him.

So…it was time to say goodbye, then…

Kibum opened up his camera roll, scrolling through the pictures to find one to replace it. He stopped at the picture he had taken at sunset on Sagye Beach, zooming in over the sea. Yeah, that’d work for now. He set it to his lock and home screen and then, after admiring it for a few seconds, he opened his Instagram.

He tapped open his following list, typing in Joonwoo’s handle, then hesitated before pressing unfollow. Quicker now, he did the same with his follower list, making him unfollow Kibum. He let out a sigh as he exited the app, swiping to close it before he shifted to his messages.

The ones with Joonwoo were pinned to the top of his messages, and without scrolling through to read them, without even glancing at the last string of texts that Joonwoo had sent him, he blocked him.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he stared at the unblock button, but before he questioned his resolve, he swiped back to the screen with all the messages so he could delete the entire thing. He didn’t hesitate, he just hit the red trash can icon and…and…

He was gone.

Kibum was finally free.

He leaned his head back against the seat, letting the relief fill him completely. Going back home didn’t sound so daunting anymore. He smiled at the night, his eyes slipping closed in what was almost contentment.

Tomorrow came all too soon, and he didn’t have a chance to drop in at Minho’s until mid-morning. He bought a couple of croissants and coffees for them, going around the back when he saw that Minho was busy with customers. Letting himself in, he set Minho’s coffee down by his station and peeked into the bag, pulling out the sweet and spicy red bean paste-filled croissant that Minho favored, and took his stuff over to the table to wait for him to finish with the customers.

Even though his mouth was full, he smiled at Minho as he came through, and was a bit dazzled at the brightness of Minho’s expression when he saw him.

“So you’re just letting yourself in now?”

“Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” Minho sat at his station, tearing off a bit of his croissant. “Still busy today, but I’ve been able to get some stuff done so far.”

“That’s good.” Minho took another bite of his croissant. “How are you doing today?”

He chewed quickly, covering his mouth as he swallowed to say, “Good. I’m…feeling better than I have in quite some time.”

“Me too.” When Minho shot him a quizzical look, Kibum went on. “I blocked Joonwoo. Deleted all of our messages.” Grinning, Minho wiped the croissant crumbs off on his paint-stained jeans, leaning across to high-five Kibum, who obliged him with a laugh. “Hopefully,” he said as he settled back on his stool, “it’ll make going home easier.”

“When do you have to head back?”

“Sunday.”

Minho’s expression fell, even though he looked like he was struggling not to let that happen. “Did you have fun here?”

“I did, yes.”

“Do—“ He let the question drop with a shake of his head.

“What?”

“Do you think you’ll want to come back?”

Kibum cracked a grin. “Of course.” Minho nodded, averting his eyes, despondently squeezed a bit of the paste out of the center of the remainder of his croissant. “I’ll miss you, too, Minho, but I’ve already decided to save up my vacation days and come back next summer, too.”

There it was. The light was back in his eyes. “Really?” When Kibum nodded, Minho relaxed against the back of his chair. “I can’t wait.”

“So you want me to leave now so you can get a taste of the waiting, or…” He laughed when Minho scoffed loudly. “Nah, I’m kidding. You’re stuck with me until dinner.”

“I can deal with that.”

By the time Sunday came around, he was dreading leaving again, but not because he had to face his empty home. He had really come to love it here. Before, he never really understood why Jonghyun and Taeyeon felt so out of place when their family came up to Daegu to visit his—because who didn't like to visit the city?—but now, after visiting their small town, he understood. He’d miss the quiet quaintness of the tourist trap of a town they lived in. The beaches…the shopping…

He glanced across the back seat of Jonghyun’s car to where Minho was sitting, currently laughing at something Taeyeon said. He’d miss him, too. All of them. He’d been relieved when Minho asked if he could come with to drop him off at the airport, even though it’d be just as hard to say goodbye there as it would be in his shop.

Both he and Jonghyun grabbed one of his suitcases, and Taeyeon walked with him into the airport, leaving the pair of them to trail behind while Kibum checked into his flight.

“Text us when you land?” Taeyeon asked, looking up at him after she hugged him.

“Of course.”

Jonghyun hugged him tight, patting him a bit roughly on the back before letting him go. He almost looked like he was gonna cry, but he shook his head dismissively when Kibum eyed him with concern. “I’m fine.”

“Why are you acting like you’ll never see me again?”

“I mean, you never know…”

Shaking his head with a laugh, he held out his arms to Minho, pulling him into a hug. “You have my address, right?”

Minho nodded against his shoulder. “I’ll send you a picture as soon as I finish it, too.”

“Thanks,” he said as he slipped away from Minho. “I guess I should go.”

Jonghyun wrapped him up in one last hug before Taeyeon pulled him away so that Kibum could join the line to security. He looked back at them when he reached the front of the line, waving when they did, then hurried up to the agent so he could head through to the terminal.

* * * * *

Night had long since enveloped the world outside his studio, but Minho was too engrossed in his work to notice. Rain pittered merrily against the window, drowning out any thoughts in his head aside from the ones that were allowing him to focus on Kibum’s painting.

A few more brushstrokes, then Minho pulled the brush away as he stepped back, surveying the whole thing.

“I’m…done…”

He blinked his burning eyes, looking around for his phone. It was nearing Halloween, which meant that it had taken him at least two more months than he had been expecting to be satisfied with the finished project. He lined it up in the camera, framing it symmetrically within it before he snapped a picture.

[19:58]

Finally done

He sent it and the text to Kibum, setting his phone aside so he could thin out some of the fuschia to sign his name. It vibrated just as he reached the right consistency, and he reached for it, opening their messages.

Oh my god

I love it so much

When can you send it??

Minho stuck his paintbrush between his teeth and balanced the palette on his knee.

As soon as it fully dries and after I can varnish it.

So, sometime this next spring

That’s too far away

to be you then ㅋㅋ

you ㅋㅋㅋ

Minho laughed aloud, looking back up at the painting before returning his attention to his phone.

Don’t worry, Bummie, I’ll take care of it for you until then