He was going to be late. Kyung never quite understood the meaning of the word “punctuality,” so when he walked out of his apartment six minutes before the meeting time, he knew he was pushing it. It was better than being one or two hours late, which was a habit he had a hard time shaking. Jaehyo was almost as bad as he was about being on time, especially when it came to anything related to Kyung.

At the small café, he picked a small table for two and sipped unenthusiastically at the caramel macchiato he had mistakenly ordered. It tasted like coffee and he hated that; he preferred his coffee sweet and syrupy, like candy.

With every tinkling of the welcome bell, his eyes flickered anxiously to the door. The passing minutes made him more and more nervous, and just like Ahn Jaehyo, he was becoming overwhelmed with the desire to just get it over with.

Finally, the tall and strikingly handsome man sauntered through the door. Kyung’s throat tightened when they made eye contact and held each other’s gaze. After a few tense moments, Jaehyo stomped to where Kyung was sitting, scraped the chair loudly against the hard floor, and sank into the wooden seat. At first, he avoided eye contact at such close proximity, which made Kyung’s anxiety about the entire situation rise even higher. If Jaehyo refused to even look at him at that moment, what was to follow would be a whole lot harder on the both of them.

Finally, Kyung decided to break the silence.

“Still can’t make it anywhere on time, huh hyung?” Jaehyo didn’t laugh. Instead he stared at him blankly with just a sliver of hostility in his gaze. Kyung cleared his throat awkwardly and took that as a cue to give him what he came for. “Right. Well.” He pulled the slightly crushed envelope out of his bag and slid it across the table. Jaehyo raised his brow when he noticed it was addressed to the younger of the two.

“I think they just gave it to me by mistake.”

“So you opened it?”

Kyung frowned at the accusatory tone; of course he had opened it. It was addressed to him, for ’s sake. Of course, when he saw Jaehyo’s name printed in formal letters across the top of the document, he almost stopped reading it then and there. But his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he read the document in its entirety.

He wanted to throw it out. Jaehyo wouldn’t appreciate what was left to him, and he probably wouldn’t even want it. But it wasn’t his decision to make, and Kyung knew he’d have to give the letter to its rightful owner. That’s when the anxiety set in. He had barely seen Jaehyo lately, and neither of them seemed eager to change that. But unexpected paperwork and drama had always brought them back together in brief and tumultuous reunions, each time Jaehyo’s animosity hitting him like a firestorm.

Jaehyo snatched up the envelope just as Kyung finally explained, “Of course I opened it, but I wouldn’t have if I knew it wasn’t even mine.” The older boy didn’t respond, but instead focused his attention on the document in