It was an average, cold spring morning. Jonghyun had bundled himself up in his favorite leather jacket and a hat, determined to not freeze to death as he grabbed his bag and headed out for the subway.
 

He couldn’t be late and even though most would say taking a nine o’clock train to get to his twelve o’clock shift was trying a bit too hard, it wasn’t his job he was trying to be prompt for. He had much more pressing matters to attend to than some bill payer.
 

Every day, the walk to the station was agonizingly long, and not because of the cold air whipping at his face and cutting through the layers and precautions he’d used to defend against just that; no, it was what waited for him once he finished this walk that had him feeling the most frigid.
 

He curled into himself, shoulders rising, face burying deeper and deeper into the high collar of the jacket, eyes squinting to narrow slits against the dry air.
 

The station was not too far and on most days he actually enjoyed this walk (aside from the fate that awaited him at the end of it); but as a college student, life was hard and a car was not an option financially, so he was forced to man up and power through situations like these, no matter how terrible.
 

Minho, his roommate, always warned him to dress in more layers, but he hated being tied down to so many articles of clothing. He felt like it clogged up his life, thus making their presence unacceptable.
 

Eventually, he made it to the large grey building topping the entrance to the underground train, going through the many gates and down the stairs to the area of which the subways were boarding. He took a seat on one of the closer benches, not wanting to miss the chance of getting the seat he needed.
 

His legs bounced off their toes, partly from the cold and also from anticipation. Waiting for this train had to be the most stressful yet enjoyable part of his day. It was his pep talk time –the time for him to try and conjure up whatever kind of courage he had in his being, get on that train, and face his deepest darkest fear (he was unfortunately very aware that something this small was his biggest life’s struggle and that fact said a lot about him as a person).
 

He let out a long breath, shutting his eyes in despair when he could clearly see his breath in the nippy air.

Finally, the train had arrived.
 

He stood up and swung his bag back over his shoulder as the old wheels squealed to a stop in front of him, counting the cars back from the conductor to make sure he had the right one.
 

One, two, three… five.  Jonghyun found his destination. As he made his way to the open sliding doors, his foot came in contact with the trashcan placed against one of the pillars –the one he hit nearly every day.
 

Son of a  his toe hurt.
 

Internally crying for a moment, he walked (or rather limped, as it seemed to him) and nearly lost his balance as soon as he set foot on the slotted floor. There he was, curled hair, black nails, extravagant outfit –everything Jonghyun had been trying to convince himself he definitely was not head over heels for over the past few of weeks.
 

The boy stood out, what with his gaudy, near platinum blonde hair and even more obnoxious outfit, but in Jonghyun’s eyes, it was endearing. It just sort of fit him, no matter how strange the ensemble was comparative to the many suit and tie clad business men and the raven-haired high school students on the bus.
 

He had his nose buried in a magazine as usual, sharpie in hand, circling designs as if he were a child with the Toys R Us Big Book at Christmas time; and every once in a while, he would bite his lip as if he were concentrating really hard on a particular article of clothing. He never pushed up his think-rimmed glasses with his fingers, instead opts for scrunching up his nose in the most adorable way possible and somehow, they work their way back up to their proper spot on the bridge. He got this cute look on his face whenever he was really pleased with a certain ensemble, unable to contain himself as he drew a little heart beside it.
 

Jonghyun noticed all of these little habits, and he has never spoken a word to the boy.
 

He walked passed him, sitting in the double seat one row behind and across the aisle because of course, he wanted to be able to see him without being too blatantly obvious about it.
 

The boy had headphones on today, they were white and blue with little music notes in the center and if Jonghyun didn’t have enough reasons to love him already he could’ve cried just then.
 

The first time he saw the blonde was only a month or so ago; back when his shifts at the music store were earlier.
 

He’d been in a rush, so his hair wasn’t entirely done and he often had to take his breakfast (Cookies n’ Cream Pop Tarts and a little orange juice pouch) on the go. He had just barely gotten there when the subway was on last call, slipping in between the automatic doors literally as they were closing. He could’ve died.
 

Now, this was long before Jonghyun had himself together in any sense of the word –he had been living off of snack food and juice boxes for God knows how long—so his shoes were a bit dirty, and he may or may not have been wearing those same pants for a fourth day in a row.
 

But no matter how hard he tried to defend himself in his mind (and against Minho, who would never let him live it down; he ing hated himself for ever telling that ), he would never be able to explain to the boy as to why his shoelaces were untied when he to tripped and fell in the middle of the aisle, ripping the material instantly.
 

He had taken a moment to lay there on the floor, cursing himself out in his head for being such a and not watching where he was going. And when he finally looked up, red lines gracing his forehead, a high school student was holding out his recollected textbooks to him, and the blonde beauty had just finished laughing with his gorgeous smile hidden behind the back of his hand.
 

It was the best and worst day of his life.
 

Jonghyun’s stop was approaching, he heard as the conductor made the announcement through the subway speakers.

 

As he got off the train, he had to physically keep himself from sighing in dejection, promising yet again, that he would grow a pair, walk up to him, and introduce himself the next day.







 

“What ever happened to that guy you were oh so in love with?” Minho asked absent mindedly from the couch, his focus primarily on the Templars he had to take out on the TV in front of him.
 

Jonghyun could tell he wasn’t really interested and was only asking solely to spite him and nothing more –this made him roll his eyes dramatically, even though the taller man couldn’t see it.
 

When he didn’t respond, Minho just chuckled, knowing exactly what that meant.





 

Another day, weeks later, he’d hopped on the train, grinning from ear-to-ear. He had just gotten word that there was an opportunity for a raise at work and he had gotten a solid 90 percent on his math test –aside from hitting his leg on the trash bin outside again, it was a good day.
 

The weather had finally become much warmer so his clothes had been cut down to just a plain tee and jeans, much more comfortable and attuned to preference. He felt really good and thought maybe it would be a good time to talk to his blonde prince. His confidence was through the roof and there was just something right about the atmosphere.
 

So as he sat on the bench and waited for the train to show up, he made the final decision to stop being such a creep and say “Hello”.
 

It all sounded wonderful in thought, but when Jonghyun got on the subway that morning, his mouth went dry and that cold sweat broke out under his collar again. His immediate thought was never mind.
 

The boy’s hair was straight that day; bleach-blonde locks falling just above his black-lined eyes perfectly and his pink bow lips were just as plump as ever and he just looked wonderful. He was wearing a loose tank top, which left his collarbones and just all of his pretty, pretty pale skin exposed and free for Jonghyun to openly gawk at. Along with the boy’s usual accentuating accessories, it was safe to say the blonde looked more stunning than he had ever seen.
 

And because of this, Jonghyun quietly took his seat just behind the angelic beauty, swearing to try another morning, another time.



 

 

“I think I’m going to give up.” Jonghyun said out of no where one night when they’re eating takeout on his bedroom floor, straight from the containers. Minho just hums, knowing exactly what he was referring to, but just having nothing to reply with as he fishes out more noodles with his chopsticks. He keeps looking at the taller man, obviously waiting for a response and Minho finally sighs, setting the box of rice down and wiping his mouth with a nearby napkin.
 

“Why?” He asks dryly.
 

To be honest, he wasn’t sure why he had even said something to Minho, he’s the type of person who will sit there quietly and listen to you rant –sometimes he’s so quiet you feel like you’re talk to a brick wall. Really, the only time Jonghyun ever bothered to talk to him about his problems was when he just wanted to complain without someone coming back with anything; that certainly wasn’t a problem for Minho.
 

Jonghyun shrugs, “I don’t know.” Minho groans at this. “I just feel like it’s a lost cause. I’ve been at this for almost three months now and I still don’t even know his name.”
 

He nods, resuming his meal, “Well okay then.” He says with a mouthful of food.
 

Minho was never good with advice.
 

So the next time Jonghyun goes to the station, he doesn’t kick the trash bin on his way inside the subway. He doesn’t even take a moment as he walks to the back of the car to marvel at the blonde’s majesty. No, he just sits down, puts on his head phones, and shuts his eyes, focusing solely on the music.

 

 

Weeks and weeks following that day, Jonghyun grabbed a hold of the pole just beside the entrance to the subway, swinging inside just before the doors shut behind him, nearly catching a strap from his bag in between them. He was running late –thanks to Minho keeping him up late with a marathon of Mario Kart—and had barely made it there before its departure.
 

After taking a moment to catch his breath and collect himself, he realized just how crowded the car was. There was only one seat left; and of course, it was the most dangerous seat on the entire vehicle.
 

He couldn’t turn back and find another car, no, the doors were already closed.
 

Also, he’d just kneed the damn trashcan for the nth day in a row and it hurt a lot more than usual on account of how fast he was running and therefore was in no condition (more from his bruised ego than anything) to stand for an hour long train ride.


He should have taken that as a sign.
 

Jonghyun hadn’t wanted it to be this way. He played over the entire situation out in his head so many times: the blonde would drop something and he would get it for him, say a charming line and then reel the pretty boy in for a nice conversation.


It was even worse now that he had already pledged to not obsess over it anymore. But yet he was still crying over the situation as the subway pulled out of the station.
 

He wasn’t at all prepared for this, honestly the blonde hadn’t been on his mind at all that morning after he was jostled awake just a mere half hour before his train was scheduled to leave and he had been doing a good job of not thinking about him for the past week or so; but here he was, about to go say hello and effectively end his life.


Jonghyun felt grungy, he didn't have the time to clean himself up and dress in some decent clothes -only wearing what smelled clean in his haste to make his train. It was just terrible timing.
 

The brunette sighed, took the few strides (one step… two steps… three steps… his forehead was sweating) necessary to reach the two seater and tried to put on his absolute best smile.

“Is this seat taken?




 

a/n: wow it's been a really long time since I wrote something. this isn't my favorite thing ever but it's just something to get the creative juices flowing and that's what I care about.

this has been in my wip folder since january along with four other fics and like twenty other prompts and plot bunnies just begging to be written. maybe this is a sign!

i'm also really scared to re-read this now that it's finally done so yeah.


thank you so much for reading c: