The first time they meet, it's like it comes out of some old cheesy romance movie.  Well, okay - maybe not that perfect.  Just cheesy.

It's a rainy day, soaked pedestrians packed into the old coffee shop on the corner; Myungsoo's jostled by wet shoulders and wetter boots, surrounded and barraged by laughter and semi-rueful jokes and shouts and smiles and a general swirl of chatter that runs right through him, runs through the report he's been trying to write, until it stops up in his ears and clogs whatever it is he's trying to think or write or say, god dammit.  Something about his accounting company's profits for the quarter, only by now, he's completely forgotten what those profits actually were.  Eventually he gives up.  Shuts the cover of his laptop with a loud bang and a pointed sigh, and gets up, heading over to join the end of the line, glasses half-pushed down his nose in a sign of resignation.  This is his ritual, has been for more than a year now: he's lost the daily battle with the monster that is work, albeit with help from an ally of the enemy - those dratted refugees from the rain, as it were - and now he's going to his wounds, with a cup of coffee for consolation.  Maybe he'll add in a run of today's comics, or one of the paperbacks the coffee shop always keeps kindly stacked in a corner.  Then he'll try again.

The person in front of him is so tall, Myungsoo can barely see around the fellow's head.  Myungsoo sighs again, standing on his tiptoes, craning his neck to try and see how many people are left.  Dratted foreigners and their height.  Sometimes he wishes he didn't live smack-dab in the middle of Itaewon; then maybe his coffee shop wouldn't get so much unnecessary traffic.

There's an opening to his left, where one of the servers standing at the counter seems to be idle, waiting.  Myungsoo glances through there, sees the face of a young boy - bright-eyed, earnest, unfamiliar to him - can't be more than twenty, Myungsoo reckons, though he looks like a high-schooler.  The kid catches his eye, half-waves uncertainly.  "Um.  Mr. Kim?  I can serve you if you'd like?"

The kid smiles, and, Myungsoo has to admit, it's a bright smile, for all the timidity the kid seems to show.  Myungsoo sighs again, silently, this time, and shoves his way past a knot of rain-soaked schoolgirls to the counter.  "How did you know my name?"

"Mrs. Jeong told me you'd be here, and to give you special...attention if you needed anything?"  The kid's smile falters, then brightens again.  Well, thinks Myungsoo.  Obviously a new recruit, and so green he hasn't even had time to become inured to the boredom of this job; Myungsoo's grateful, at least, that the shop's elderly owner has told the kid about Myungsoo, if only because she always seems to be granting him so many unwonted favors, he thinks to himself grudgingly.  Like he was her grandson or something.  She is sweet, but sometimes -  "I can give you something on the house, if you'd like - "

"No, I'll pay for it myself."  The shop would end up broke otherwise; he feels sure of it, what with the owner's tendency to give out freebies all the time.  "Just...an Americano, please.  No cream."

"Okay!"  God, the kid's smile is so earnest, it makes Myungsoo alternately want to grin back and throw up.  "Uh, just go back to your table and I'll bring it over."

"I'll wait here."

"No - "  The kid seemed confused.  "Mrs. Jeong said, uh, you should sit down because it's better for your health - "

"Fine."  The kid watches him, anxiously, all the way back to his table.  It's really quite annoying, Myungsoo thinks, grudgingly.  If only vaguely so.

He watches the people around him while he waits.  Most of them appear to be single, but there're couples, too.  One of them is kissing enthusiastically over tea in the corner.  To anyone else, it might have looked sweet, but to him -  Well, it doesn't affect him.  Romantic partners are a waste of time.  He'd rather sit here, thank you very much, and watch the money pile in and not have to cook for anyone but himself, and not have to worry about having a weird laugh or about going around in his nightclothes on off days or occasionally (well, perhaps a bit more than occasionally) doing science experiments with the baking soda and his neighbor's plants.  Never mind what his coworkers said.

Then the kid is back, coming toward him with a trayful of coffee and assorted pastries.  Myungsoo frowns.  Was that old woman giving him extras now, too?  He rises quickly to his feet.  "Excuse me?  I didn't order - "

There was a wet patch he hadn't noticed where someone else, someone with very wet feet, had been standing.  Just his luck to step in it, then.  Just his luck to go flying, straight into the path of his waiter -

He ends up on the floor with the magestic ring of broken china on metal echoing in his ears.  His tie seems to be flipped up over his eyes, and something warm, something very hot, something wet was trickling down his white shirt front - oh god no today of all days, I have to meet that girl in the evening -

There's someone bending over him.  He looks up into the wide, concerned brown eyes of the kid.  "Sir, are you - "

"No.  No, I am most certainly not okay."  Myungsoo starts to rise, but the kid pushes him back down again.  "Look, just get out of my way, okay!  I have to get this stain out before it sets - "

He freezes.

Something feels wrong about his left hand.  No, strike that: something is very, very wrong with his left hand.  He glances over, only to see the bits of glass peppering the back of his hand, apparently the remains of what used to be a fluted glass juice cup -

"Sir, I'm so sorry."  The waiter kid sounds absolutely stricken, shaking almost as badly as Myungsoo is.  "I'll get first aid or something, j-just wait - "

The truth is, it doesn't hurt very much.  Hardly a scratch, really.  He opens his mouth, starts to tell the kid not to worry, just leave him alone and give him some space until his hand starts to bleed.

Myungsoo has never been one for blood.

The last thought he has before passing out is that the kid wasn't so bad after all.

And that's how they first meet.

~

The top of the N Seoul Tower was a lot colder than Myungsoo had thought.  He sighs again, pulls his coat tighter against the cold, glances to his left.

"You sure we had to come here?"

The kid grimaces apologetically.  "I have to treat you somehow for what I did, right?"  Myungsoo's since learned - well, okay, by eavesdropping - that the kid's actually twenty-two, in his last year of college, majoring in biomechanics, which makes him Myungsoo's age, as it happens.  He's cute, not that Myungsoo would ever think of him that way.  No love for Myungsoo.  He's given up on that long ago.

"Right, well, like I said, I have a date tonight, uh - "

"Sungyeol," the kid offers helpfully.

"Right, uh....Sungyeol...and my mom's gonna be pretty angry if I miss it."  Myungsoo sighs for probably the millionth time.  Why couldn't she just get it through her thick skull that he wasn't interested in dating?  "So...if you'll excuse me..."

"Um.  Yes, of course."  The kid's tone is bright, Myungsoo'll give him that.  A+ for effort, Sungyeol, he thinks.  Unfortunately, Sungyeol's eyes are much too expressive to completely cover up how dejected the kid suddenly is.

"Well," Myungsoo relents, "I guess she'll never know if I'm just a little bit late."

"Great!"  Sungyeol's immediately excited, and, Myungsoo has to admit, he's pretty cute when he's excited.  "I didn't finish my payback, anyway."

"You didn't?"  Myungsoo nods at the skyline of Seoul, a blanket of artificial stara spread out on the ground below them.  "Isn't this what you wanted to show me?"

"Not entirely."  It's dark and Myungsoo can't see clearly, but in that moment he could've sworn he saw Sungyeol blush.  Unless it was the cold.  Yeah, probably just that, Myungsoo decides.  "Umm...follow me?"

"Where?" Myungsoo can't help but ask, sounding more suspicious than he intends, much to his chagrin.

"It's a surprise."  Man, but that kid's smile could stand in for a lightbulb, Myungsoo thinks.  "You'll see.  Just come on."

~

Myungsoo doesn't like surprises.

Still, he reflects, as surprises go, this one's actually pretty nice.  Agreeable, even.  Through the window of the cable car, past the cloud of most his breath makes on the chilled glass, Seoul floats almost directly beneath them, now, office buildings and car-filled streets and lamplight making a pretty panorama all around them.

Myungsoo turns back to Sungyeol.  "It's nice.  But why did you bring me here?"

"Well," replies Sungyeol, and fidgets.  "I thought - because it's White Day, and all, and - "  So it is, Myungsoo thinks with a gentle shock: he's been too wrapped up in his work to even notice.  No wonder there were all those couples snogging in there today.  "And I thought you looked kind of lonely.  And I thought you might like this.  You know, to make up for being lonely.  And for your hand."  The kid's almost babbling now, speaking in a rush: Myungsoo feels a little sorry for how nervous he seems.

The kid's looking at him now, anxious, wide-eyed.  Myungsoo glances down at his hand, wrapped in strips of gauze, then back up.  He can't help but chuckle a bit.  What's his name again, Sungyeol?  He's nice, Myungsoo thinks. "Kid...Sungyeol...that's sweet and all, but you do know you didn't have to do all this...right?"

The kid's eyes widen even further, if that's possible.  But he doesn't tremble when he speaks. "Yeah, but.  But I wanted to do this, 'cause, you know...it's what Mom would've wanted, 'cause she always said it's the loneliest people who seem prickliest on the outside - "  Myungsoo can't help but grin ruefully.  Prickly?  That's what he seems like?  "Only it's the prickliest people who need the most love, really.  They're the ones who really appreciate company.  So - so I thought you might like this."

Myungsoo lets the silence stretch out for a long moment.  Then, softly, he says, "Sungyeol, you're the most profoundly, equally ridiculous and wonderful little idiot I've ever met."

Instead of reacting, the kid, to Myungsoo's surprise, actually grins.  "Really?  That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard from someone as prickly as you."

Then he leans over, closes the two inches between them, grabs Myungsoo's face in both hands and kisses him, right on the mouth.  Hard.

Despite the fact that Myungsoo should be saying something rude to the kid, he finds that he actually quite likes the taste of Sungyeol's lips.

In the end he ends up missing that date with that other girl, after all.

~

It's Christmas, and Sungyeol's home from work today, sitting wrapped up in a pile of blankets on the living room couch like some adorable human caterpillar in its cocoon, reading English books, residue from last year's classes.

Myungsoo's in the kitchen, brewing cider for the both of them.  He calls, "Hey, babe?"

Sungyeol doesn't reply.  Myungsoo sighs and tries again.  "Babe.  Kid?  You listening?"

From the couch, he hears his boyfriend's voice, laughing: "You do know I'm older than you, right?"

Myungsoo rolls his eyes.  "Sure.  Whatever, by seven and a half months.  Big deal."  Ever since they shared birthdates with each other Sungyeol hasn't let that go.

"And taller."

"But you act like the baby, so."  When Sungyeol whines, Myungsoo comes into the living room to personally tickle him from behind.  "And you're dodging the question, Sungyeol-ah..."

"Fine!"  Sungyeol squeals and attempts to wriggle away, futilely.  Myungsoo reaches over and triumphantly closes his book for him.  "All right - what did you want?"

"Blue china or bisque?"

When Myungsoo just stands there expectantly, Sungyeol his head and makes a face.  "Seriously?  You interrupted my precious reading just to ask what cups to serve the cider in?"

"No," says Myungsoo solemnly, "I just wanted a chance to call you 'kid.'  And to tickle you."

This time it's Myungsoo's turn to squeal as Sungyeol makes a mock-angry face and tackles him to the couch, entangling him in blankets.  "Stop," Myungsoo gets out between gasps of laughter.  "The cider's gonna boil over.  And then you won't get any!"

"Fiiine," retorts Sungyeol, and sits up in his boyfriend's laugh, face set in a decidedly adorable pout.  "Blue china.  But then I get to serve!" he adds as Myungsoo gets up, still smiling, and retakes his place in the kitchen.

"Oh, no, babe," Myungsoo says as he ladles out the cider into the tea set of choice.  "You know me and your hot-drink serving abilities don't get along well."

He returns to the couch with the drinks just in time to see Sungyeol's dazzling smile: "Best mistake I made in my entire career of being a waiter."  Then he's next to Myungsoo, snuggled up against his side, and they don't even bother to take different cups, but, instead, sip from the same one as if it's the most natural thing in the world to them.  Outside the first flakes of snow fall: somewhere in the distance children sing.

 

 

 

happy birthday halmeoni!!!!