“I actually don’t like coffee…”

“Oh, really?”

The barista slid the cup of iced French roast across the counter to where YiXing and JongIn stood. YiXing retrieved it, lifting it a bit in a salute of thanks to his barista friend, and the two weaved their way through the narrow aisles to an empty table near the back of the crowded café.

“Ah, well,” YiXing sighed as he settled himself into the chair. “I used to be addicted to cola back home, but after getting this job, I needed more caffeine. This is the only thing that works now.”

JongIn was slouching in his chair. “What do you do, again…?”

YiXing sipped his coffee, considering his answer. “I guess… I’m a writer, of sorts? I write long columns, medium articles in a magazine. Seoul Sense. Have you heard of it?”

“No. I don’t really look at magazines. So you’re a journalist?”

“Mmm… I feel like the title ‘journalist’ gives off a sort of… how would you say it…?” YiXing could imagine Amber pressing to that flat line of disapproval as he dug through his vocabulary. “… like there’s a negative connotation to it. You know?”

“Not really.”

“Yah, you have really great conversation skills.”

A corner of JongIn’s mouth lifted slightly. “Yeah. Your Korean’s not too bad, either.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ve lived here for about three years now.”

“You still have an accent, though.”

Vacant smile. “It gives some individuality.”

JongIn didn’t reply and just stared at YiXing for a while. YiXing returned the stare, continuously sipping at his coffee. The furrow in JongIn’s brow was still there, his lips returning to their downward slant. Even with his sloppy posture, the kid looked like he was caving in on himself.

“How old are you?” YiXing asked, finally cutting into the silence.

“Nineteen.”

“Ah. So you already graduated from high school, right?”

JongIn’s eyes flickered away briefly before they reverted back to hold YiXing’s gaze, a quietly daring challenge behind them. “No. I was out of school for a while, so I’m behind.”

“Ah, I see. I was thinking you were probably too old for this kind of program.”

A sneer spread on the youth’s face. “I was forced into it because of my aunt.”

“Your aunt…” YiXing paused to consider, “…is the lady I met before?”

“Yeah.”

Once again, YiXing found himself under a scrutinizing glare. No words were exchanged as he tried to see what JongIn was telling him. JongIn gave nothing away, only keeping his eyes at the same level, his brows still knit together.

“So why were you forced into the program? If I may ask, of course.” YiXing’s coffee was almost gone, and it had only been maybe ten (fifteen, to be generous) minutes since they sat down. This can’t be healthy.

JongIn blinked before he let out a scoff. “I happened on some classmates doing drugs, and then a teacher happened on all of us. They thought I was with them, but I proved I wasn’t a part of it, so in reality, I’m innocent. But my aunt is crazy and still thinks I’m lying, so she cut me off of everything extra-curricular I did in school, set a stupid curfew, and then signed me up for this thing.”

“Well, that’s unfair,” YiXing commented.

“It is…” JongIn replied, hesitating at first. “It’s whatever, though. Once I’m twenty, I’ll be a legal adult, and I can cut off ties with her and jump out of this stupid program.”

“Ah, I see,” YiXing repeated. “When is that?”

“January. Fourteenth.”

“Hmmm. You still have a good six months to go. Will you survive?”

The sneer returned, but it was lighter, more out of sarcasm than scorn. “I’ve lived this long. Surely I can handle another six months of being treated like a child.”

YiXing responded to the sneer with his vacant smile. “I’ll try my best to do otherwise.”

“What about you? Why are you in this program?”

YiXing let his focus float off elsewhere (the air above JongIn’s head, maybe) as he considered the most accurate answer. JongIn, who wasn’t used to YiXing’s random space trips, followed YiXing’s gaze upward to find what he was looking at, a bit baffled.

“I was being conceited,” YiXing finally said, jerking JongIn’s attention back to the table.

This obviously wasn’t the answer JongIn was expecting. “…huh?”

YiXing, however, didn’t elaborate and simply pasted on his vacant smile. “I think I’ll get more coffee. You don’t want anything?”

“No.” The brows pushed together. “Should you really drink so much coffee all at once, though?”

He probably shouldn’t have as YiXing was left with a bothersome, unsettled feeling somewhere between his chest and stomach that had nothing to do with the coffee coursing through his gastro system.

“So you’re saying these places are famous because of you?”

“No, not necessarily. Not everything I write is in their favor.”

“But to be famous doesn’t necessarily mean a good thing.”

“That’s true.”

Their conversations usually turned out like this the next few times that YiXing and JongIn managed to meet. Since JongIn had nothing to pitch for a conversation, they ended up talking about YiXing’s job as a columnist and the various stories he had written. At one point, they happened upon the latest issue for sale on a shelf while strolling through a bookstore.

“Wait, this is you?”

“That’s me.”

“But it says Lay.”

“That’s my penname.”

“Why do you need a penname?”

At that point, YiXing had spaced out, trying to remember the reason why he had chosen the penname, so JongIn ended up dropping the question.

The next turning point occurred on a Saturday, when JongIn was unavailable.

YiXing took care to discreetly wipe his palm on his pants, a bit disturbed at how sweaty the hand he had just shaken was. The heavy-set man he had just interviewed ran his own Japanese restaurant, but was he allowed to sweat so profusely while making food for customers? Maybe his secret ingredient was, literally, his own sweat and tears.

YiXing’s stomach twisted at that thought. Even though he was about to meet BaekHyun and ChanYeol for lunch, his appetite was quickly depleting. He paused at an intersection, pulling out his cell phone to find out where his comrades were planning to meet. As he carelessly gazed at the traffic zooming by, his gaze fell on a dark figure standing on the opposite sidewalk.

“Well, well,” he called out, having reached the other side of the street. “Here we have found Kim JongIn’s true identity.”

The kid visibly jumped and spun around. His spooked expression relaxed into an exasperated one. “What are you doing here?”

“I just finished an interview for my next article, and I’m about to meet my friends for lunch.” YiXing eyed the stack of leaflets hanging morosely from JongIn’s hands. “And what are you doing here?”

JongIn frowned. “Community service…”

YiXing stared for a good while before replying. “Community service? I thought you said you were innocent.”

“I was the only one who thought that, anyway. Just more idiocy I have to put up with.”

“You’re stuck with handing out flyers every Saturday for another six months?”

“No… I… do other stupid stuff, too.”

YiXing watched as JongIn half-heartedly tried to pass his burden off to the pedestrians who whizzed by; he doubted it could even be called “half-hearted” as JongIn wasn’t even trying.

“Have you ever dreamed of being an actor?” YiXing suddenly asked.

JongIn’s frown deepened. “An actor? Why?”

“Why not? A lot of people have dreamed of being famous in one way or another.”

“Well… I dunno… Maybe…”

“See, this kind of activity would be perfect if you were practicing to be an actor. Look.” YiXing snatched the leaflets from JongIn’s hands. “First, the eager-to-please man.”

Immediately, YiXing’s demeanor changed. He called out loudly to the pedestrians as he fluttered the paper at them, pausing every now and then to read the actual content of whatever he was promoting. When a few people actually accepted the flyer instead of brushing him off, he smiled widely and loudly bid them a good day.

“Then you wait until enough people pass by,” YiXing informed JongIn. “After that, you can change to someone else. For instance, the foreigner.”

YiXing changed personalities again, this time shouting loudly in his Changsha dialect. While his first role had been a bit more reserved, the foreigner was definitely more forward, shoving the leaflets in people’s faces until they took it just so he would stop bothering them. JongIn scratched his head and pretended to not know who YiXing is.

“And now, the Kim JongIn.”

YiXing’s shoulders drooped and his face fell to that of a sullen teenager. He said nothing as he stiffly held out the leaflets to anyone who would accept them. Compared to his previous acts, not a single leaflet left his hand. That is, until someone recognized YiXing’s face from his magazine and almost shouted in surprise. A polite greeting, a handshake, an autograph on the flyer, and multiple bows later, the girl skittered off as she whipped out her cell phone, fingers already working out a text message in a flurry. Having had enough fun, YiXing rejoined JongIn who had watched the whole show from the side.

“Anyway, I imagine playing like that would make something like this even a little bit more fun,” YiXing commented.

“Quite the celebrity, are you.” JongIn’s tone was teasing, one corner of his mouth pulling back to make the slightest of smiles.

But YiXing vehemently shook his head. “No, no way. That girl is one in a million. I’ve never had anyone recognize me on the street.”

“Do you really go out, though? Enough to where someone would recognize you?”

“No…” YiXing lapsed into blank silence as he considered for a good minute or so. “No.”

At that moment, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He missed JongIn’s baffled expression as he swiped the lock screen away. The hamster had finally returned YiXing’s text, listing out a time and location. Of course the giraffe would be there, as well.

“Well,” the foreigner announced, “I’m off meet some friends for lunch.”

“Oh.”

YiXing returned JongIn’s empty expression with his vacant smile. “Don’t work too hard.”

“Yeah…”

He turned to amble his way toward the intersection, wondering if he had enough time to trot across the street without getting run over by a runaway sedan. He looked both ways. Ah, too late.

“Yah, wait!”

YiXing glanced up to see as JongIn approached. When their eyes met, JongIn abruptly stopped in his tracks.

“I…” His voice stopped as well. He coughed to get himself to start talking again. “I… Could I… go with you?” When YiXing’s eyebrows lifted the slightest bit, JongIn seemed to recoil, holding up his hands in surrender. “I mean, I don’t mean… I wasn’t really being serious – ”

“No,” YiXing quickly interrupted. “I think that would be great, but… can you?”

“What? You mean leave this?” JongIn let out his teenage scoff. “They don’t care. I’ve pretty much done all of my time for today, anyway.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“No one cares,” JongIn insisted. “Just give me a sec. I’ll be right back.”

YiXing watched as JongIn scampered off up the sidewalk. It took him a second to realize he should probably text BaekHyun again.

Three coffees and one cola slid onto the table.

JongIn watched in amusement as YiXing and BaekHyun did their customary attack on the sugar and creamer. ChanYeol, ever the manly giraffe, took his coffee black.

“So… Are all of you addicted to coffee, then?” JongIn quipped.

“I blame them,” YiXing replied lightly, swirling a spoon in his mug.

“Uh? You were already throwing back coffee when I met you,” BaekHyun retorted.

“Was I? Well, then I blame you for not stopping me.”

YiXing liked how JongIn was able to easily get along with BaekHyun and ChanYeol. At first, it seemed like JongIn was shyly falling back, but BaekHyun’s sassy attitude pulled him out of his shell. That, and he was just as startled by ChanYeol as YiXing had been. The height difference between the two wasn’t as vast, though.

“Aouw, YiXing-hyung – ”

YiXing stared incredulously at BaekHyun. “What was that?”

“The coffee was still hot! Shut up!”

“Did that warrant a squawk, though?”

“Shut up! Anyway, did JunMyeon call you this morning?”

“This morning?” YiXing spared a glance at his phone. “No. I was working, though.”

“This guy!” BaekHyun let out a diva scoff before he proceeded to rant. “This guy calls me up first thing on a Saturday morning – when I’m trying so hard to sleep in – and starts fanboying about that JongDae kid. I keep trying to tell him to shut up so I can fall back asleep before it’s too late, but he just wouldn’t stop.”

“Why didn’t you just hang up on him, then? That’s what I would have done.”

“Yes, I know that. However, I am not you, and I’m slightly considerate to my hyungs.”

“You’re just mad that JunMyeon interrupted any morning, y time you had with ChanYe – ”

The coffee BaekHyun had been sipping was violently expelled in spray form. “YAH, YIXING!” BaekHyun screeched.

“YAH! I’M WEARING WHITE, YOU KNOW!” YiXing screeched back.

“Yah, you two are being obnoxious,” ChanYeol cut in.

The hamster glared indignantly. “Tell that to the horndog over here!”

“So says you.” The giraffe snickered as he lifted his mug to his lips.

YiXing covered his own smirk with a napkin, acting like he was mopping up his face, as BaekHyun’s face flushed all the way to his ears. “I’m gonna kill the both of you,” he grumbled, angrily swiping a napkin across the table to clean up his coffee mess.

“Wait, you guys are gay?”

The commotion was brought to a halt when the trio was suddenly reminded of the extra party at the table. All eyes fell on JongIn who sat beside YiXing, a slightly perplexed expression on his face.

BaekHyun threw a quick glance at ChanYeol. “Er, yeah, uh… We didn’t realize you didn’t know.”

ChanYeol threw the glance at YiXing who apathetically added, “Must’ve slipped my mind.”

The giraffe sighed. “Well, to be fair, I don’t think it’d be normal for someone to say, ‘I work in an office full of fruitcakes.’”

“Even though YiXing is more of a unicorn than we are,” BaekHyun pointed out.

“Eh?” JongIn turned to YiXing. “You’re… too?”

YiXing almost laughed at the awkward question, but nodded instead. “I am.”

“But… is that allowed?”

The fruitcake eyes slowly fell on JongIn again. When he realized all three men were staring incredulously at him, he quickly threw up his hands. “I mean, not like that! I meant… you know, with the program…”

“Oh, right.” YiXing lethargically finished the sip he had been relishing. “I just decided to go with ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’. It’s the easy way to go.”

ChanYeol cocked his head a bit, looking like a puppy as he did so. “Hmmm… You might want to look in to that, YiXing-hyung.”

“Turn off your lawyer brain, ChanYeol.” YiXing passed his vacant smile to JongIn. “Don’t worry. I won’t fall in love with you.”

JongIn seemed to scoot more space between them. “Yeah, please don’t…”

“Why, are you scared of me?”

“What? No, no. It’s not that. Just… please, don’t…”

YiXing kept his vacant smile alive. “I was just teasing. I have no need for anything like that.”

The table lulled to silence as YiXing slipped off into space to enjoy his coffee again, not noticing the ghosted glances traded between hamster and giraffe. The looks weren’t missed by the youth, but neither were they brought to attention.

“That was fun, right?” YiXing asked JongIn after the forms of BaekHyun and ChanYeol disappeared around the city corner.

“It was,” JongIn replied. “Your friends are cool.”

“Yeah.”

The two were at a standstill at an intersection. It was quite obvious they would have to go in differing directions to go home, but neither made the first move for a while.

“Well…” YiXing finally said. “If you feel like having another rowdy chat over coffee, just let me know.”

“Yeah… I will.”

“I’ll see you later, then, JongIn.”

“Yeah.” A light grin pulled up JongIn’s lips. “Later.”

YiXing beheld the new sight for a second before he turned to head home.

A/N: An extra 300~ words for y'all for waiting so long u_u I fell into ugly writer's block I am gomen. It's not getting boring, is it? .-.