Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Taeyong pulls on the blades of the blinds, peering at the shop across the street with a deep-set frown. Their cafe is shrouded in darkness, as the rest of the staff sit around the large table – made up of several, smaller tables to make room for them all – and squirm uncomfortably. It isn’t unusual for Taeyong to call for staff meetings in the middle of the week – he likes to live his life on the edge and keep everyone else on their toes as well, as Johnny puts it. It is unusual, however, to summon a meeting right before opening hours, when they all should be at their stations, preparing for the week ahead.

“This better not be a last-minute team building exercise.” Renjun hisses to Mark, hiding behind his hand. “And if it is, it’s all your fault.”

Mark inwardly groans. None of his friends were going to let him go for nearly causing a rift in their group. In his defence, he didn’t ask Yuta to pick a fight with Ten for berating his poor memory. He simply whined as any 19-year-old would, and Yuta chose to stick up for him. It also isn’t his fault Ten has a temper and is very prideful, and chose to yell at Yuta for criticising his management of the store goods. It is his fault, though, for forgetting to order the truckload of avocados they needed for their Sunday Avo-Toast specials when Ten had asked him to.

Mark can’t sit through an hour of playing trust-games and bonding exercises – it’s too early in the morning and his head hurts. Plus, he’s sure his friends will, without a second thought, ruin him.

To be fair, they could just straight up tell Taeyong that none of his exercises actually work, and only creates more tension when Taeil fails to catch a member every time how does he do that how is he –

Besides the point, they’ve all been friends for as long as Mark can remember, so in spite of the little mishaps along the way, they all know they’ll pull through. They drove each other insane at most times, but hey, at least they can all go crazy together. But, you know, Taeyong is their boss and beloved friend who, benevolently, hired them all as soon as the café was handed to him by the previous, now late, owner – an old man who’d taken a liking to Taeyong and his work ethic trusting him to carry on his renown business.

Plus, the activities and sentiment behind them are sort of cute, and no one wants to disappoint Taeyong.

Taeyong releases the blinds and turns around with a stern expression. He places his palms on the end of the table and looks over each of them. Mark swallows thickly.

“Do you all know why I’ve called you here today?”

“Because we’re finally firing Shotaro now that we know boy can’t even butter toast nor do anything else without becoming a hazard to himself and others around him?” Renjun says in one breath.

Sungchan opens his mouth to protest, but Jaemin holds down his bandaged hand from the butter-knife injury two days ago, and he sinks back into his seat with a grumble.

“Good point Renjun, but that’s not why we’re here.” Taeyong scans the room again. “Anyone else?”

“This isn’t related but can I please not be on dishes this week. Yuta plays his NicoNico songs all day in the dish room and just last night I found a grey hair, which I know is because of the repressed stress I endure working with him.” Taeil complains, and Yuta nods along like he understands.

“No. You’re still on dishes, but we’ll swap Yuta out for Jaemin.”

“Yes!” Yuta pumps his fist under the table at being up front for the week.

Jaemin, on the other hand, makes a displeased face. It’s cute, so Mark rubs his back and tells him to cheer up.

“Guys, focus. We have a serious problem on our hands.” Taeyong throws his hand over to the window and they all follow with their eyes. “Johnny, show them!”

On cue, Johnny pulls up the blinds and lets the light stream in. They all cover their eyes and squint at the violent rays, before finally seeing what Taeyong is referring to. He ushers them over to the big glass windows, crowding around to inspect the construction across the street. Poor Renjun has to get on Mark’s back to see, but otherwise, when they do, they all gasp in unison.

“Shit.” Yuta curses. “They’re coming for our bank.”

“We’re the most popular and only café in this entire avenue.” Ten exclaims and points in offence to the construction. “They’re going to steal our revenue.”

Mark doesn’t see the issue, and he wonders if he should. All he sees is a chance for new neighbours, other than the butchers, shoe-shop owners and hipsters they have now. Maybe they do need those bonding exercises to level all their mindsets together – for Mark anyways.

The construction is nearly done, with a huge sign out the front and a countdown plastered to it. There are a few days left until the opening, and the name DO-DELIGHTS glistens under the sun bewitchingly. Johnny pulls the blinds down and the room is dark again.

Taeyong resumes his stance at the end of the table as they all sit back down. “I propose a heist –“

Mark panics, but before Taeyong can finish the sentence, the voice of reason speaks up.

“Guys, hold on. Maybe they’re aiming towards a completely different demographic. Maybe, it’s a cat-café!” Kun suggests light-heartedly, and the table erupts into murmurs of agreement

“But, that’s worse.” Renjun rebuts, “everyone likes cat-cafes.”

Kun makes a face and agrees, sitting back down.

“Well, we can’t do anything now. We just have to wait and see.” Johnny, residential Taeyong-handler finally asserts. “For now, let’s just continue doing our best and putting out the best food we possibly can, okay?”

Everyone nods in agreement, and look to Taeyong for this week’s rotation.

“Okay. Yuta’s at the register and Jaemin, you’re joining Taeil at the dishes. Ten’s at stock and general management while Johnny, you and Mark can bus tables this week. Kun, Renjun, and I will, as always, be in the kitchen.”

“What about me?” Shotaro pouts from Jaemin’s shoulder, feeling forgotten.

“Oh, shit, right.” Taeyong scrambles through his notes. “Shotaro you can work with Yuta and man the counter when he makes coffee. Stay safe, yeah bud?”

Mark sighs out of relief that Shotaro wasn’t put in table duty. He loves the guy. In fact, they’re almost best friends, but the guy is just disastrously unruly, and Mark simply can’t handle more stress in a job that already involves stress-inducing customers.

“Okay, guys, all in.” They all gather around to put their hands in the middle.

“Forever!” Comes the unified cheer before Taeyong orders them to disperse.

Along with the process of being coworkers, they’d all fallen into this family-like dynamic. Taeyong and Johnny have been friends since high school, and Ten was Johnny’s roommate in college. Yuta was Taeyong’s rock during their gruelling five years of studying hospitality and culinary – though, Yuta still can’t cook – and Taeil was Yuta’s roommate. Mark fell into the group by being Taeyong’s neighbour back home who admired the older boy so much he followed him into college, and Taeyong’s always, happily, taken Mark under his wing. As for Renjun and Jaemin, those two were Mark’s best friends during high school and into college – now roommates, with Kun being Renjun’s cousin and guardian ever since they made the big move from China. Mark wasn’t really sure how Shotaro came into the mix. They’d all just created and accepted the idea that Shotaro’s puppy-like charms must’ve attracted Taeyong’s soft spot, so when taking over the café, he had picked him up like a stray.

Work isn’t so much work as it is just a different way of spending time and making memories with his favourite people in the world. They go through all ups and downs together, from 10 am to 6 pm, and have established a fun environment entirely themselves. Mark’s pretty proud of their little home away from home, so he never complains about juggling work and early or late classes.

And therefore, he saunters up to the door and flips over the sign, big smile on his face as he readies himself for the day ahead.

“Welcome to Yong-wanhi Café and Restaurant! What can we get you today?”

-

“Staff meeting, NOW!”

Taeyong yells as soon as he arrives on Monday morning. The whole crew gather at the centre of the room to hear what his off-mood is about.

“Do you guys sense something wrong?”

Mark looks around at the others and they all shake their heads.

“No. Why?” He asks.

“Renjun, what time is it?” Taeyong turns to the Chinese boy.

“It’s 11 now, why?”

Taeyong shakes his head and tuts. “This place is empty! None of our early regulars is here!”

“They could be having a day off,” Kun says and looks to the others when they agree.

“No.” Taeyong walks over to the window and jabs to the newly-built café across the street. “They’re all there! I was walking here with the new fryer – which is really nice by the way – and I saw the nice old lady who always leaves extra tips, in, THAT, STORE.”

Johnny pats Taeyong’s head as the smaller man deflates in his arms.

“They’ll come in soon. I’m sure our brunch regulars should be rolling in any second now.” Jaemin tries to lighten the mood, and sure enough, an hour later, they come in.

Despite the crew waving off the uncanny lack of customers, nervous energy settles above their heads. Yuta pulls out all his charm on every customer that enters, smiling brightly and flashing all his teeth. The kitchen staff take extra care with their food, and even Mark feels the pressure to smile and make conversation with all the customers, taking time to listen in hopes to not lose any more regulars.

Just past lunch and the café is quiet again, with a few customers trickling in and out with a drink or food-to-go. Renjun and Jaemin have begun playing best-out-of-three games and painful knuckle wars, while Yuta has fallen asleep on the counter, leaving Shotaro by his own, dangerous, self.

Mark should probably get someone to keep an eye on him.

“Psst, Mark.” Taeyong beckons him over to the corner of the room, away from the others. Warily, Mark approaches him.

“What’s up?”

Taeyong throws Mark an oversized sweater and yanks a bucket hat over his head. “Go over there and see what they’re doing. Whatever it is, we have to do it better.”

Mark stares at him, stunned, then gawks awkwardly once he registers what he’s been told. “What? No, that’s just too low, even for us.”

“I am not above cutting back your pay-check first if we lose bank.”

That shuts up Mark quick. After all, he needs that money for his tuition and weekly trips to WholeFoods. With a deep sigh and glum look, he pulls on the sweater to hide his uniform and sets off across the street.

Arriving outside the store, Mark learns that they had severely underestimated the hype behind this new store. DO-DELIGHTS was making enough revenue in the first day than they make in a week. Needless to say, Mark feels a bit intimidated and slightly on-edge, when he pushes into the store.

Inside, the walls are painted a calming pearl white with baby-blue stripes. The tables match the whites on the wall, with lovely lace tablecloths that Mark already knows would be a bitch to clean. The workers are dressed in pristine, white uniforms – which is a stark contrast to their own grey and moss-green polos. But then again, none of his friends could keep white uniforms white. The café also has music playing in the back, which Mark recognises to be a selection of generic pop-songs from the early days. Perhaps the only thing that he dislikes about the store so far is the music, and he doesn’t understand how any of the seniors in here can tolerate Nicki Minaj’s raunchy and bland rap in Superbass.

“Yikes.” He mutters under his breath, “who chooses the music in this place?”

“Me.” A sharp voice says from his side, and Mark whips his head around to meet the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen in his life ever. The blaring music disappears to the back of his mind as his heart starts to beat louder in his ears. With every pulsing boom, his entire body pulses. He blushes furiously as the boy taps his foot on the ground and gives Mark a loaded look. His skin, a marvellously golden hue; eyes so dark and clear; brown hair that falls delicately just above his lashes and –

“And what about it?” The boy continues to glare at Mark as he gapes at the boy. His eyes flick down to quickly read the name Donghyuck, sewed onto his shirt in gold thread, and Mark’s just a little bit in awe. Just a little bit.

“Uhh…” Mark’s brain supplies as he fumbles for words. It’s always at such times when his supposed genius math-brain switches off, and always makes him want to crawl underground. Mark suddenly regrets listening to Taeyong. He’d take a snubbed pay-check over fooling himself in front of a boy-that-looks-like-a-miracle any day. “I was just going to say that…” He makes sure to choose his next words carefully, for the boy – Donghyuck’s face only gets darker. “It’s a great choice for such a place! Super inviting and nice vibe!”

Donghyuck doesn’t seem fully convinced, and Mark holds his breath until finally, the boy breaks into a grin. His face instantly lights up like the sun, and Mark feels the urge to both shield his eyes from the brightness and willingly go blind for his beauty.

“I know – but thanks! You here for something to eat or drink or both?” Donghyuck asks, and Mark suddenly remembers what he came here for.

“Uhh, I think I’ll just take a drink to go.”

Donghyuck guides him over to the drink counter and points to the menu. “We have a lot of goodies, but I’d recommend our chocolate Monster-shakes. It’s full of ice cream and wafers and then we shove a muffin into it!”

Mark nods dumbly, overwhelmed by the number of items on the menu. The café seemed to be dessert oriented, which he notes as a pro for their own place which is just, generally, food. Donghyuck takes Mark’s nod as an ‘okay’ and turns around to make the drink. He hums to the tune still playing in the background, and Mark thinks that if he closes his ears then the moment would be perfect.

Donghyuck could be, perfect.

Mark shakes himself out of his thoughts and slaps his cheeks, feeling heat rise to them. He came over to unravel their rival’s secrets to take them down, not develop a crush on the enemy. Taeyong, or anyone else back at the store, can never know about this.

Donghyuck turns around with the freshly prepared drink, chocolate melting and oozing out from the top of the mason glass. Mark blinks at it, unsure of where to start. He hops onto a nearby stool and tries, somehow, to dig in. When he manages to fork in a bite of the muffin and a sip of the shake, his brain goes haywire.

“Holy shit.” He clamps his hand over his mouth and looks up at a smug Donghyuck with wide eyes.

“Not bad huh?”

“Not bad? This is delicious!”

Donghyuck wiggles his brows and clicks his tongue. After a couple of minutes of Mark awkwardly trying to finish his drink and Donghyuck serving other customers, he resumes his position of drumming his fingers on the counter and staring at Mark.

“So, how’s business?”

“Business is doing meh –“ He chokes on a piece of cake when he remembers, he’s meant to be undercover. Donghyuck smacks his back until Mark finally calms down. When he looks up at Donghyuck in surprise, the latter simply replies,

“I saw you walk out of the café and come straight in here. I did the math, it was easy.” As if he had read Mark’s mind.

Before Mark can explain himself, a tall, slim man enters from the side door and distracts Donghyuck’s attention.

“Donghyuck, we need you back in the kitchen. Chenle just broke a jar of peanut butter and Jisung touched it and now –“ the man heaves, “we’re one man down.”

Donghyuck nods firmly and takes off his waiter’s apron. He turns to Mark with a coy smirk before leaving, “see you around, neighbour.”

When Mark retreats to Yong-wanhi’s, Taeyong waits by the door to welcome him back in. The store is still oddly quiet, and Mark feels slightly guilty for having no dirt on their enemy. Unless their poor music taste counts.

He quickly rethinks, mentally apologising to the beautiful boy behind the poor music taste who’s indeed, got Mark’s heartbeat on the run.

“So?” Jaemin asks, and Mark realises that he’s surrounded by the prying faces of all his friends.

“Uhh,” He drawls, racking his brain for anything to say. Pushing his way out of the crowd, he moves to the front of the room. “They’ve got these bright blue and white striped walls and this whole, pastel theme goin’ on. Much better than our boring brown wood –“

“Shut up, it’s retro.”

 “Right, sorry Ten, I forgot you redesigned this place. Anyways, they also have these killer milkshakes which are to die for and – oh you guys are frowning okay ummm –“

“Is that it? Is that how they’re stealing all our customers?” Renjun crosses his arms and scowls out the window. “People are so easy nowadays! Whatever happened to staying loyal?”

Mark still doesn’t think it’s all that deep, but everyone around him seems to think otherwise, humming and agreeing.

“They play music, which I guess adds in creating a more friendly and inviting atmosphere?”

Taeyong snaps his fingers, “aha! We’ll add some music too. We can’t lose our individuality, but we can make some tweaks! What do they play?”

“Cheesy pop songs stolen off Hit 100s –“

Not to Mark’s surprise, they all cringe as soon as the word’s leave his mouth. He knew he had picked the right company.

“Okay, we’ll do music… but we’ll add a twist.” Taeyong beckons the gang to huddle around, furiously whispering and sharing ideas and leaving the circle with a strict zip-lock motion to his lips.

“That’s it guys,” he flares his arms out, “DISPERSE!”

-

A couple of days later, Johnny hauls in a giant jukebox which they fit and centre nicely against the wall. Taeyong initially had the idea of starting karaoke, which they all unanimously voted against, making him sulk. Kun – angel, God bless – then suggested that for every have-in purchase, the customers would be allowed to give in song requests to enjoy while they ate. It was a brilliant plan that appealed to them all, and just for Taeyong – Thursdays were exclusively for karaoke.

Mark and Renjun make a pact to take Thursdays off.

“That’s it guys,” Johnny wipes his brow and puts both hands on his hips, “we’re good to go!”

Ten runs into the room with his iPod and starts playing Madonna’s smash hits on the jukebox. A collective groan sounds throughout the room. “Hey! Don’t disrespect! Only express yourself ba-by, put your love to the test –“

Renjun grabs the iPod mid Ten’s break out into song and switches it to some French tune no one recognizes. They groan again.

Mark now remembers that although all his friends hate generic pop, none of them share the same music taste. It’s why the road-trip Taeyong planned last year didn’t work out, and why they almost threw Yuta and Taeil out of the car for their respective Vocaloid and trot playlists.

“Injunie,” Jaemin calls out fondly and swipes the iPod away.

“Hey!”

“This is why you aren’t allowed the AUX cord in the car, babe.”

Renjun grumbles while Taeyong snatches the iPod away from Jaemin. “Customers’ choices only.”

They open shop and wait for business to start flowing, feeling restless and antsy. Around midday, they’ve regained an easy flow of patrons going in and out, with some staying for food and music.

Mark doesn’t think their idea is too shabby. The customers were surprised when they read the instructions on the chalkboard beside the jukebox, then immediately become excited about the new, small yet welcomed upgrade.

So far, most of the songs were, in Mark’s books, good pop or GREAT hip-hop – which only made working better. They’d also kept Shotaro behind the booth this week, lest he breaks out into dance while waiting tables and break, literally, everything.

During his break, as Mark snacks on one of Taeyong’s protein muffins, his eyes wander across the street in thought of a boy with deep eyes and sun-kissed skin. It’s only been a week since they met, and although they barely knew each other, Mark misses him. Sort of.

And those damned shakes too.

Maybe during tomorrow’s shift break, Mark can sneak out to see him. For now, it’s back to work. He downs the rest of his muffin with water, pushes off the seat by the window, and ties his apron back on.

“Nice thing you’ve got going here.”

Mark hates that he recognises the voice despite only hearing it once. That characteristic, silvery tone.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, tucking his notepad away. It’s deeper into the afternoon, almost closing hours in fact, and there are only a few people streaming in and out with a quick snack.

“Can’t a neighbour pay a friendly visit?” Donghyuck replies and strides into the nearest seat. “Shouldn’t you bring me a menu or something?”

Mark blinks for a couple of seconds, registering the fact that Donghyuck – an enemy but also someone he might have a teeny tiny crush on – was sitting at their store and ordering.

The loyal employee side of Mark’s brain says he’s only here to spy on them since he probably caught on that Mark was doing the same. On the other hand, the love-struck side says even if he is, give in because he’s cute.

Naturally, Mark goes with the latter.

“We – uh – the menu is at the top there.” He points at the large chalkboards above the front register, spanning across the top wall.

Donghyuck turns in his seat and looks surprised. “Oh, you guys don’t hand out your menus to the customers when they’re seated?” He raises a brow at Mark and makes him wonder if that’s what they should be doing. “That’s different, I guess.”

The first side of Mark’s brain feels slightly offended.

“I’ll have the Chicken Caesar wrap with a side of those potato twirlies.” He wiggles his finger around in a loop going up, and the small action makes Mark’s weak, oh so weak heart flutter.

“They’re called Potato Tornados.” Mark corrects him, but rings up the order anyways.

For a while, they bask in silence as Donghyuck drums his fingers on the table and Mark tries to look anywhere else. He remembers the jukebox and jumps off the counter.

“By the way, we have a new thing going on where you order something and then you choose a song and then we play it for you.” He tries to explain, pointing back and forth from the jukebox to the iPod in his hand.

Donghyuck listens carefully until Mark stops rambling, a smirk flying to his face. “Any song?”

Mark nods, and he instantly regrets the decision. He should’ve lied and set some ground rules.

“Play Superbass then. I haven’t listened to that in ages.”

With an inward groan and chant that the customer knows best, Mark half-heartedly turns on the song, the disastrous bubble-gum tune filling the room.

Renjun comes up to the bay with the food and rings the bell. He pauses when Mark comes over, eyebrows slanted. “Who’s that?”

“Huh?” Mark looks back at Donghyuck, “oh him. A customer?”

“You seem to be pretty chatty with him.”

Mark guffaws, “w-what? I was just asking for his song choice!”

Renjun doesn’t look convinced, but he accepts the answer anyways, realising he has much better things to do – which is anything else, really. Mark brings the food up to Donghyuck and waits nervously for his verdict. After a taste of DO-DELIGHTS’ high-quality food, he feels an odd need to level the field.

“Oh!” Donghyuck chimes, covering his mouth. “This is good!”

For once, Mark is grateful for Renjun.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat and leans back proudly, “our cooks are pretty neat.”

Donghyuck hums in reply. He eats rather quickly, much to Mark’s dismay, and is soon getting up to leave. Although they hadn’t said anything other than a few words, Mark enjoyed the boy’s company (and view) and was hoping to get to know him better.

“Well, it’s been nice,” Donghyuck squints at Mark’s name-tag, “Ma-rk.” He pronounces, heavy on the K. “I’ll have my potato twisty to go, see what my team thinks.” He winks and sashays out the main door.

Mark stands rooted to his spot, flustered and still thinking about Donghyuck’s wink. “H-hey, wait, what?!”

Before Mark can catch up to ask what he meant, Donghyuck is skipping across the street. He stops at the glass doors and turns around to wave back at a stunned Mark. As he does, the evening sun dips at the perfect angle, staining the glass behind him in a golden hue that bounces off, surrounding Donghyuck in a halo.

Mark bites his tongue and curses at himself to get a grip.

This little, maybe-a-crush of his just came in to spy on their café and is now probably, along with the rest of his crew, plotting how to take them down.

Or, maybe it’s not that deep – but either way, Taeyong –

“ – won’t be pleased.” Renjun tuts behind him, shaking his head at what he just witnessed. Mark spins around and gulps, looking sheepish.

“He said he was a customer!” He defends himself, sulking at Renjun’s disappointed stare. “Please don’t tell Taeyong –“

“ – don’t tell me what?”

Fuck everything.

“Uhh – well – you see – uhh –“ He looks to Renjun for help, but the bastard had already run off to the kitchen. It was Mark, on his own. “A worker from across the street may have posed as a customer to spy on our progress –“

Taeyong groans loudly and rubs his temples. “We were just getting back on track. Sleazy bastards, copying our concept –“

“Well, we spied too –“

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! First our reputation as the only café and now our tactics too? Bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit!” Taeyong stomps back to the staff-room then re-emerges to tell Mark off again. “You’re on lock-up duty today.”

Mark hangs his head and sighs.

-

To the chagrin of everyone around him, Mark has an awful tendency to forget things. He’ll remember trivial things like how many spoonfuls of sugar Renjun likes in his morning coffee, or to turn the thermostat up at night because Jaemin likes to keep warm – even if it means he sweats in his sleep. One would suppose those aren’t trivial at all – that they’re sentimental and cute – but when compared with what he does forget, they appear as useless sentiments.

Like now.

“MARK!”

Said boy flinches at the shrill call of his name. Taeyong and Renjun storm out of the kitchen, Kun following close behind.

“Did you turn off the kitchen lights yesterday after cleaning?!”

Mark bites his lip.

“The generator’s drained and the current cut off,” Renjun explains crossly. “Nothing’s turning on.”

Mark cowers under his cold stare.

“You know our kitchen’s old, you should’ve taken extra care!” Taeyong rubs his hands over his face. “The gas stove works but the oven and microwave won’t turn on…” He trails off in thought, pacing around the room. Mark looks at the clock to see that it’s an hour before opening, and he mentally kicks himself. Kun comes around to loop an arm over his shoulder, rubbing it in comfort.

“Sorry bud, you know they’re just stressed. Especially, Taeyong, but he loves you. They both do.”

Even so, Mark can’t help but feel guilt crawl all over him. They were stressed enough already, and none of them needed any more.

Ten walks in from the staffroom with his phone to his ear. He clamps a hand over the receiver, “the electrician is on his way to sort out the fuse-box. He said it’ll be an hour, tops.”

“Great. So opening hours is pushed back to noon since we need to prep the food after everything’s fixed.” Taeyong mutters aloud to himself. “Great.”

“Renjun, go check the freezer and see if the ice melted inside.” Kun orders, letting go of Mark.

“Everything’s fine. It probably didn’t all stop until this morning.”

A sigh of relief sounds throughout the room. Finally, Johnny claps his hands together and tells everyone to not panic – that they’ll just have to use what they can for now.

“The coffee machine and cakes are still good, right?”

Taeyong nods.

“That’s good enough. Shotaro, go get the chalkboard stand and put a notice outside that it’s only coffee and cakes until noon. That gives us time to prep, while still keeping the business afloat.” He gathers everyone around and they all bring their hands to the middle. “All in, one, two, three, FOREVER!”

Like all other trials thrown their way, they bounce back quickly. Customers are still stopping by for coffee, and honestly, if they were just a café, this would’ve been fine.

Eventually, the electrician manages to get the kitchen running again and all is well, so they remove the sign and business is alive again.

Well, as alive as it’s been ever since the start of the café across the street, but good enough. Taeyong comes around to give Mark a hug and apologises for his outburst, which Mark doesn’t think is needed, since he did screw up and they got rightfully mad. Likewise, Renjun makes him some fried chicken and waffles, with extra chicken, as a form of apology.

Mark appreciates it all.

Around lunchtime, Jaemin calls Mark over to the window and points outside. “What’s going on there?”

Sure enough, outside DO-DELIGHTS, a young boy – gorgeous face – stands, handing out flyers to whoever rolls by. It’s an old trick, but it’s clearly working, if the herd of young girls and boys filing into the store, after a smile from the handsome boy, says anything. Heck, even senior citizens are stopping by to coo and pinch at his cheeks.

Mark senses Taeyong’s hawk-eyes peek over his shoulder. He shrinks down so the other can see, but gets swatted instead.

“Don’t let them see me spying! I have a reputation to maintain, so cover me!”

After a couple minutes of peeping, Taeyong stands back. Somehow, the rest of the staff had gathered around the window too. Mark thinks Taeyong doesn’t give them enough work.

“We can’t lose them! What does he have?” Ten squints through the window, “like, a face?”

“A GORGEOUS FACE! Do you not see that?” Renjun yells and points at the boy, then turns to look again. “Holy shit, I need to see that up close.”

Beside him, Jaemin grumbles bitterly about something that misses Mark’s ears.

Taeyong claps his hands to regain attention. “Two can play this game! They have a good-looking face? We do too!”

“Yeah!” They all shout in unison, except Mark, because he’s still confused.

“Taeyong!” Taeil yells. “Get out there!”

“Yeah!”

“W-wait, guys, I can’t leave the kitchen.”

All their pumped fists slowly deflate, “oh.”

Taeyong looks between them, framing each of their faces with his fingers – like you would before taking the perfect photo. “Shotaro! Cute and friendly, he’s perfect!” He grabs the dumbfounded boy’s hand and drags him to the staffroom. With that seemingly sorted, the rest return to their stations.

Except, Renjun – who stands by the window and stares at the boy across, rubbing his chin and chewing his bottom lip. He hums, then steps outside, walking right across the street and to the handsome boy. Mark and Jaemin press their faces to the window to stare, completely perplexed. Renjun soundlessly speaks to the boy, who laughs, rubbing his nape and – oh, is he embarrassed?

While the boy looks down shyly and shuffles from one foot to the other, Renjun swipes away a flyer and skips back. He hums a light tune on his way back inside, a satisfied smile spread across his face as he waves the flyer around.

“You’re welcome guys.” He says and hands the flyer to a confused Ten. “Now, we have their menu, so we can see their pricing and gain an advantage.”

Mark and Jaemin crowd around to take a look.

“The little – “ Mark bites when he sees the new foods being offered – more savoury ones, much like what they sell. He points at a large, flashy picture of ‘Maple Corndogs’. “That’s – that’s – Potato Tornado – he – the little –“ he grits his teeth, feeling immensely stupid for letting Donghyuck get away with their best-selling ‘on-a-stick’ item.

After analysing the menu further, they realise their menus are as different as night and day. Where Yong-wanhi focuses on more meal-type items, DO-DELIGHTS is more dessert and snack-oriented. However, that doesn't eliminate the fact that they are still stealing potential customers who usually come in for a quick eat.

Ten decides that he’ll speak to Taeyong about lowering the prices for their desserts and snacks – see if that makes any positive impact on their business.

When Taeyong later emerges with Shotaro in tow, the younger male has his hair styled up and the slightest tint on his apple cheeks. His shirt is neatly tucked in, and he looks just the right amount of smart and casual. Ten kisses his finger-tips. “MWAH! Fantastic!”

“Now, go outside and promote our business with your beauty!” Kun hands a bunch of freshly-printed, hastily made flyers advertising their best items, and sends Shotaro out.

As Mark’s eyes follow the gangly boy stumble outside, they automatically flicker across the street to the distant image of Donghyuck, behind the counter, looking this way. He has an annoying feeling that Donghyuck is smirking that irritating way he always does – like he knows something Mark doesn’t, or like they’re playing a game and he knows he’s winning.

Mark’s got to start building more defence systems for his weak heart.

-

“Oh. It’s you.”

The Queen record in Mark’s hand hangs limply as he stares at Donghyuck, who stands by the door, equally surprised. Then, his expression slips into the usual, coy smile and Mark reminds himself of defence systems again.

“Nice to see you too, neighbour.”

Mark steps back as Donghyuck takes several steps closer and peers up at his face.

He scowls, “not neighbours. We’re now enemies.”

Donghyuck looks vaguely confused before his face morphs into one of mock-hurt. He pouts – making it really, really hard for Mark to keep those damn walls up –

“That’s not very nice.” He frowns, “I was beginning to like you too.”

Mark immediately regrets it, but Donghyuck’s smiling soon enough and all is well again.

“Do you come here often?”

It takes Mark an embarrassing while before he realises Donghyuck is talking, to him, about the record store.

“Oh, yeah. I do. It’s sort of like my haven.”

Donghyuck hums and nods, stepping into a nearby aisle and pulling out a Rolling Stones record.

“How about you? Come here often? I’ve never seen you around here before.”

Mark mentally slaps himself for how cheesy and cliché he sounded, like some rom-com hero trying to woo the girl.

“Not really. Actually, this is only my second time here.” He explains further when Mark cocks his head. “I just moved to Seoul recently from Jeju. My friend – Jeno, the guy with the flyers?” Mark nods. “Yeah, he told me about this place.”

The door creaks open and in walks Yerim – daughter of the owner. She smiles upon seeing Mark and runs over to hug him.

“Hey, haven’t seen you in here for a while.”

 “Yeah, work has been...” He looks to Donghyuck, who’s looking between them awkwardly before turning his attention to the shelves. “Work’s been hard lately.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Yerim looks across at Donghyuck. “Hi! Are you Mark’s friend?”

Now it’s Mark’s turn to stand there awkwardly as Donghyuck turns around.

“Oh, no. We’re enemies, according to him.”

Yerim throws Mark a pointed look – one that pushes him to explain.

“I-it’s complicated work stuff. We’re not actually enemies.”

From the corner of his eye, Mark sees Donghyuck light up with a smile.

“Oh, that’s… weird.” Yerim looks between the two of them, then shrugs. “Whatever. Nice to see you Mark, we should catch up when you’re free.” She turns to Donghyuck and smiles, “and nice to meet you too,” before she’s disappearing behind the staff-room doors.

“So, we’re friends?”

Mark scoffs but averts his eyes from Donghyuck’s expecting smile. “We don’t even know each other well.” He immediately bites his tongue when Donghyuck deflates a little, corners of his mouth slipping and bright eyes dimming. “But, with time, sure.”

And if he could compare the smile on Donghyuck’s face to anything in the world, Mark would compare it to the warmth that settles in the heart at the beginning of a new day.

Business resumes to a steady push and pull that lasts for a week before it’s staggering downwards again. The advertising had worked, and so had the reduced prices and special offers, but their high could only last for so long.

“We need a new plan.” Taeyong asserts at their Monday meeting. “Any ideas?”

“Can’t we just give up?” Yuta asks. “We’re at least managing, right?”

“I agree.” Jaemin pipes in. “No offence Taeyong, but you’re not getting any younger.”

“Okay, Johnny’s older than me, and, we’ll see what you have to say when there’s a big decline in your pay-checks.”

The two of them sink back in their seats and grumble.

“Anyone else?”

“We could just do the advertising again,” Renjun suggests and looks towards Shotaro. “You don’t mind, right?”

Shotaro’s eyes light up at the sound of his name, and Mark wonders if Taeyong really adopted him like a stray. “Yes!” The boy chimes. “I love it! All the grannies like me and I get to meet new people!”

“That’s sorted then. Anything else?”

“I could try out some new dessert recipes or designs? Some eye-catching ones?” Kun offers.

“Perfect! That’s the spirit guys!”

“Oh, and we’ll pull down the prices for main courses too. Do like a combo deal or meal-for-two specials sorta thing.” Ten advises.

Taeyong brims with enthusiasm. “Well done everyone. I’m so proud of all your contributions and hard work.” He puts his hand in the middle, and like second-nature, they all follow with their own.

“1, 2, 3, FOREVER!”

So, on goes the day with Shotaro out front, hair neatly styled up and shirt tucked in, Kun busying himself at the dessert station, and Ten, punching the calculator and having Jaemin adjust prices. Business picks up as planned, with more customers diverging away from DO-DELIGHTS and towards Yong-wanhi.

Around lunch break, Mark’s eating his impossibly bland egg-sandwich by the counter when he spots a suspiciously sneaky Renjun about to slip out of the store. He pauses mid-bite to eye the boy curiously, before slipping out of his seat.

“Where are you going –“

“AAHH FUCK, Mark!” Renjun clutches his chest and breathes heavily. “Shit. You scared me.”

Personally, Mark thinks that’s a bit of an overreaction if the boy was just going out for fresh air – or for something alike and innocent. This was different.

“Where are you going?” He repeats, and Renjun sighs with exasperation, looking out both ways.

“Nowhere.” Mark gives him a pointed look. “Fine, somewhere. I just – I have a date. A lunch date, which is right about –“ he checks the clock and panics, “ – now, shit. Out of my way.”

Mark bars the door with his hands, gulping when Renjun glowers at him. But nothing gets in the way of Mark’s stubborn curiosity. Not even Renjun’s wrath.

“You’re hiding something.” He’s seen that look of panic before. That way of checking surroundings as if hiding from one, soft-hearted yet relentless boss. Heck, he’s seen that on everyone and himself. “What are you hiding from Taeyong, to be specific?”

Renjun rolls his eyes and heaves in defeat. Before he can open his mouth, Mark’s gasping out loud from sudden epiphany.

“Oh shit, it’s that DO-DELIGHTS advert guy. The one with the face.”

“Yes, fine. Now will you please –“

“Does Jaemin know?”

“What? Of course he knows!” He hisses, checking around them again. “I told him first, obviously.”

“And he’s cool with it?”

Renjun steps back and frowns. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“I don’t know. We all thought you two were a thing. Ten was actually just waiting for the evidence to out you guys –“

“WHAT?” Renjun bites his tongue. “What?” He hisses, “we’re strictly friends! He told me to go on the date.”

“Oh.” Mark’s lips curve and stay in an O form as he blinks back at Renjun. “Cool. Then, uhh, have fun I guess?”

Renjun looks at him cagily before opening the door, a gust of hot wind battling against the cool air-conditioned room. “Before I go, will you please –“

“Cover for you with Taeyong. Got it. Have fun!”

Renjun grins gratefully and dashes out of the store, steps light as he hurries down the street and out of sight.

When Mark returns to his seat by the counter, he wonders if he should take Donghyuck out for a lunch date. Somewhere far away from their clashing diners, where they can be in peace and without the ‘enemy’ agenda flashing over them. He then shakes his mind away from the thought. Donghyuck would never go out with him – he’d get bored easily.

Besides, they’ve both got war fronts to keep up, and Mark would rather not skirt on dangerous shores like Renjun. Not that Taeyong would mind, really. He’d just enforce a strict line between work and personal life, after maybe an hour long, dramatized rant about being betrayed. Nothing is actually stopping Mark, besides a nagging fear that maybe, Donghyuck will get tired of him.

He’s lucky he has his friends now. Better stay satisfied with it.

Despondent and glum, he finishes the rest of his sandwich and decides to see if Kun needs help in the kitchen.

When Renjun returns just a few minutes after the break is over, he’s chipper and glowing. Mark almost doesn’t recognise the feisty Chinese boy that’s blushing uncharacteristically furiously, cheeks a lovely rose and beautiful smile refusing to move no matter how many times he clears his throat.

The sight makes Mark happy, and when he looks over to Jaemin to share the sentiment, the brown-haired boy smiles back. Yet, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes like it always does when he sees Renjun.

Oh.

-

“So, do you come here often?”

Donghyuck looks up from the MJ record in his hand and squints at him. “Mark, I thought we went over this the last time. I just –“

“Ah, shit.” Mark mentally slaps himself – except he also does it physically too and now he’s sure he has an awkward hand-print on his face because it stings. “Right. New to the area.”

Donghyuck side-eyes him and nods, moving towards the record-player to play the vinyl.

“So,” Mark begins awkwardly, hands shoved into jeans, “what made you wanna move?”

“College. There’s a better music program here.”

“Oh? That’s… that’s cool.” Mark trails behind Donghyuck as the latter takes a seat in the corner bean-bag, making room for Mark. “I like music too.”

Genius. Truly. Everyone likes music, idiot!

If Donghyuck thinks Mark is a bumbling buffoon, he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he opts to cross his legs over Mark’s as they squeeze onto the bean-bag, throwing the other boy into a blushing mess.

“Geez Mark,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes and giggles, “you’re so easy.”

Michael Jackson’s Bad makes for great background music for the current situation – sitting around and doing absolutely nothing while the upbeat pop song blares throughout the empty store. Donghyuck bobs to the sound and taps his fingers on his knee. There’s something about the quiet moment that Mark appreciates. Donghyuck is, without a doubt, as loud as most of his friends. Yet in this tranquil state, between just the two of them, Mark finds a sense of peace he didn’t know he was looking for, and most shockingly, from who he least expected it from.

“How’d you end up at DO-DELIGHTS?”

Donghyuck muses over the question for a bit, sweeping his tongue against the inside of his lip. “Doyoung, the owner of the store, is my mum’s best friend’s son.” He pauses for Mark to comprehend the connection, nodding when he gets it. “Since I was coming here and I needed a job, she hooked me up with Doyoung who was just starting up the café. It all kind of just,” he makes an awkward move with his hands, almost like he was juggling, “fell together.”

“And the guy with the face?” If Renjun was really seeing this guy, as the Chinese boy’s second-best-friend, it was Mark’s duty to do a quick background check. And maybe Donghyuck’s voice is sort of, kind of, just a tad bit, beautiful. 

“Jeno?” Donghyuck laughs through his nose, face breaking into a wistful smile. “Yeah, he’s got one of those faces huh? His grandparents live across from my house, and he visited every summer and,” he makes the same motion again, “yeah, we’ve been best friends ever since.”

The music has long since stopped playing, yet none of them moves to change the vinyl. Donghyuck’s picking on the loose strings on Mark’s ripped jeans, warm fingers ghosting above his skin. Mark feels warm all over.

“Enough about me, what’s the deal with you and your team of ragtag avengers?”

Mark feels genuinely bad for snorting so loud and embarrassed for doing it so openly. He loves his friends, but they really are as dramatic as Donghyuck points them out to be – and the boy has barely met them.

“They’re… something else…” – and starts Mark’s monologue explaining how their little family came together. It’s a question asked by many of their regulars who come by enough to pick up on their antics, and by now Mark’s memorised a specially crafted speech he’s saved for such occasions.

“ – and that’s how Taeyong suddenly woke up one day with a shop of his own and us to handle 24/7.”

“Wow.” Donghyuck comments as Mark catches his breath. “You all are wack.”

Before Mark can even fail to defend his friends, Donghyuck adds, “that’s okay. Mine are pretty wild too.”

“Two sides of the same coin, huh?” Mark laments, thinking back to their respective stores facing each other, brewing a Cold War of their own.

“Yes, if those sides are identical too.”

Donghyuck rolls off the bean-bag with much strain, disappearing between the shelves and leaving Mark’s legs horribly cold and lonely. He returns with a Queen vinyl and sets it to play, setting the still store alive with the sound of Freddie Mercury’s sharp voice. As the first notes of Somebody to Love play, Donghyuck closes his eyes and keens into the sound pouring from the player, just barely mouthing the words.

“You know, for someone who’s studying music and apparently has such rich preferences,” he points to the player as an example, “you really hit it low with liking bubble-gum pop –“

“Oh please, you probably like Bieber or something.”

Mark clamps his mouth shut and looks away. Donghyuck’s face splits in shock, then he bursts into hysterics.

“No way! Oh god, that’s – that’s – wow. I didn’t pen you for the type, Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck clutches his stomach and chortles, shaking his head in disbelief, muttering about Mark’s bold nerve to criticise his refined taste. Queen stops playing, but the absence of melody is fast replaced by the sound of Donghyuck’s musical laughter, echoing throughout the store.

-

Business settles down once again, and they are almost back to their original state, prior to all fiasco. It’s a new week, and just like the past four weeks, Taeyong starts the day with the staff gathered around a disjointed round table and both hands on his hips.

“We’re almost there guys, I can practically see DO-DELIGHTS crashing to the ground!”

“Hold on, since when did we want to ruin them?” Yuta pipes in like always, as if he isn’t used to Taeyong’s shenanigans already. “I thought we just wanted to do better.”

“Oh no. No. Better won’t settle. Not since that pesky mole-rat –“

“Hey, hey.” Johnny, thank Heavens, pulls Taeyong back. “We’re not stooping any lower than we already have.”

Mark looks around the table to share a confused look with the others as Taeyong grumbles to himself.

“Sorry. Johnny’s right. Just because Doyoung insulted my cooking and said I was back-dated and stole that last Crème-Brulee donut from the Bakery that was just within my grasp, doesn’t mean I should insult him like that. I’m bigger. I’m better.” He breathes deeply and composes himself. “But, this war is far from over.

“Come on boss, isn’t it time we moved on? You’re getting wrinkles on that face of yours and I am genuinely concerned about your health right now.”

Taeyong walks up to Jaemin and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, making the other boy scrunch up in pain, wheezing for dear life.

“Thank you so much for your concern Jaemin. But for saying I’m getting wrinkles, you’re on lock-up duty this week.” He pats the boy’s neck and let’s go, leaving Jaemin to collapse onto the table and whimper. “Anyone else?”

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Mark clears his throat.

“Shotaro has been doing surprisingly well with the coffee machine, and he hasn’t burnt himself yet. I think we should give him some proper training –“

“ – and run Yuta out of a job.” Taeil interrupts.

“Hey!”

“ – Yuta can always be dish-boy.”

“Ten, you little –“

“GUYS! No one’s running anyone out of a job. I was saying, Shotaro is doing pretty well around the store, just anywhere but the kitchen, so I think we should train him to be out front more. Maybe bus tables with me and Johnny? He’s pretty popular, and I’m sure the seniors who are always cooing over him would come to coo over him some more.”

Taeyong ponders over the suggestion, then looks to Johnny for affirmation. When he gets back a confident nod, he looks to Shotaro and smiles.

“Guess that’s settled. Congrats, Shotaro! We’re proud of your improvement.”

Shotaro beams and shoots Mark a grateful thumbs-up.

“So, have fun training him Mark.”

“What?!”

“Everyone, to your stations!”

There’s something off about Jaemin lately. At the back of Mark’s mind, he feels like he knows what it is, or has somewhat of a hunch, but nothing comes clear.

“Is Renjun out again?” Jaemin asks as soon as he enters the kitchen. He runs a hand down his face and groans. “I barely see him anymore.”

Mark has to admit, the boy’s got a point. For the past week, Renjun has barely been around, even at their apartment – coming home at ungodly hours, cheeks bright even in the darkness and timid small on his lips and he hides away in his room. In that sense, he understands where Jaemin’s frustrations are coming from. The three of them live and work together, so it was weird seeing so little of the Chinese male. Especially for the younger pair, who were inseparable. Renjun was never seen without a starry-eyed Jaemin trailing behind him, and now, a lonely Jaemin looked distasteful.

No wonder the boy is bitter and dull, like he lost his sun.

Oh. Right.

“I think he’s just pretty giddy right now, with that guy from across, you get me?”

Jaemin groans loudly and slams his fist onto the centre table. Mark flinches in his seat on the said table and immediately slides off. Jaemin slumps down onto a stool and sighs, face falling in his hands.

“What’s so good about that guy anyways?”

His voice is tired and strained, and it completely shreds Mark’s heart. Jaemin’s never like this – so small and weak. Jaemin doesn’t deserve to feel like this.

“Renjun’s just in a romantic high right now. He’ll come back to you soon. He’s just excited.” Mark tries to soothe, rubbing Jaemin’s back slowly, picking his words carefully.

Standing between them, Mark finds himself at a fork in the road. On one hand, he’s never seen Renjun this chirpy. This Jeno clearly makes him happy, and Mark would never want his mood to dampen.

On the other hand, he can’t stand one’s happiness at the expense of the other’s. He could tell Renjun about Jaemin, and the former would definitely give everything up for his best friend – but that wouldn’t satisfy anyone in the long run.

Mark’s sure Jaemin knows this too, which is why he sits and sulks instead of confronting Renjun about the feelings he’s been harbouring since forever. He wracks his brains and pulls at his hair. Johnny’s more cut out for this.

“I just, miss him so much –“

Renjun chooses the correct moment to burst in through the door, banging sound jerking Jaemin upright. “Hey guys, what’s going on?”

Jaemin blinks for a few seconds before leaping out of his stool, not caring as it clatters to the floor, as he crushes Renjun in a hug.

“You came back to me.”

Renjun makes a pinched expression at Mark, who shrugs and juts out his lip.

“Of course I did. I always come back to you, don’t I?”

Renjun lovingly strokes Jaemin’s back as the younger boy sighs in contentment. Quietly, Mark slips out the door, deciding to leave them to it. The break was over long ago anyways.

“Shotaro! Hope you’re ready for my Sparta training!”

-

Turns out training Shotaro is easier than expected. The boy is an eager and fast learner, making him a natural at handling customers – which evidently makes Mark’s job easier. With Shotaro out front and business dwindled down, Mark grazes away under the cooler in the staff room, watching Yuta beat Taeil in chess for the fourth time.

It’s kind of a wonder because Yuta just learnt how to play and was taught by Taeil himself.

“How the hell do you keep winning?!” Taeil yells and pulls at his hair. “I taught you myself. How am I losing?”

Yuta leans back with a smug smile and clicks his tongue. “What can I say? I’m just good at everything.”

“Except at doing your job.” Taeyong scowls as he bursts into the room, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently. Yuta makes a panicked face towards Mark before running back to the dish room.

Taeyong turns to Mark with the same expression, before looking back at Shotaro handling the few customers out front just fine. With a shrug, he leaves, and Mark releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

So back to his phone.

In the midst of creating a new home for his family of four on The Sims, there’s a loud knock on the door and call for his name. Mark looks up, and it’s Shotaro.

“What did you do?”

“What? No, I’m doing fine – someone’s here for you.”

Mark frowns. He doesn’t ever get asked for like this.

Following Shotaro out to the front, Mark stops at the sight of Donghyuck leaning over the counter, swirling the straw around in his cola. When he sees Mark out of the corner of his eye, he turns completely and smiles.

“Hey.” He waves with his fingers as Mark inches closer.

“Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I came here to see if you were free – looks like you are.”

Mark looks around for Taeyong or Ten, sighing when he sees neither. “We’re ‘enemies’ remembers?” He quotes around the word. “We can’t be seen together.”

“Ooh, scandalous.” Donghyuck takes a long drag of his drink, “let’s go out then. I’m bored and Jeno is off frolicking with this guy he’s in love with –“

“Renjun’s not here?” Mark cuts in and peeps through the crack of the kitchen door.

Donghyuck follows his gaze, “who?”

Mark takes a deep breath, rubbing his temples as he feels a headache growing at the back of his head, just at the thought of Jaemin surely rotting away at the corner of the kitchen – or maybe in the pantry. “Hold on for me will you.”

After being friend’s for so long and being disgusting close, Mark’s developed a sixth sense especially for his friends. This sense leads him to the kitchen pantry, where he opens the door and flicks on the light. He barely flinches when Jaemin shrieks and covers his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

Jaemin’s got his hand deep inside a box of Cocopops. He makes a face, then continues rummaging inside and shoving a handful of the chocolate cereal into his face – crumbs scattering over the floor.

“I’m miserable. Leave me alone.”

“This is the third time this week, and the sixth box you’ve finished. Get a grip.”

Jaemin throws his head back and wails loudly. “I can’t! HE is all he talks about – I’m losing my mind.”

Mark runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “Well, sort something out.” He flails his hands. “I don’t know – maybe you should tell him?”

Jaemin shakes his head violently, and Mark nods with understanding.

“Okay, fine. Just make sure no one finds you here or else they will kill you for making a mess,” he motions to the food on the floor, “and then they’ll make you tell and then they’ll tell Renjun and then everything will be up in flames.”

Mark turns around to leave, then looks back. “Also, I’m going out. Cover for me?”

Jaemin makes a lazy okay sign and shoos him away.

Mark discards his apron as he returns to the front. Donghyuck’s biting on his straw and staring out the window, jolting when Mark slams his palms on the counter.

“Let’s go.”

“So, tell me Mark Lee from Canada,”

Mark groans – he never should’ve told Donghyuck where he was from. He didn’t think he’d be constantly attaching it to the end of his name.

“What flavour do you want?”

Donghyuck presses his hands and face to the glass, eyes sparkling at the sight of the smooth pints of ice-cream. Mark joins him, eyes travelling over the different colours until landing on his favourite.

“Coffee.” He points.

Donghyuck scrunches his nose in offence and gags. “Yuck. Coffee flavour anything is disgusting.” Mark makes to defend himself, but the cashier comes around and Donghyuck swiftly orders; coffee for Mark, strawberry for himself. She hands them the cones and they take a seat on the cute, flower-shaped tables beside the window. Donghyuck goes off on a rant about work, as Mark quietly laps at his ice-cream and listens. He’s complaining about Jeno ditching him and a guy named Sicheng who’s always eating their supply of strawberries, when he stops midway to gasp.

“Did you just bite your ice-cream?”

Mark’s mouth hangs limply as he awkwardly stares back. “…yes?”

“Oh my God, I can’t be with you anymore.”

Mark rolls his eyes and takes another bite, chuckling as Donghyuck’s grimace deepens. “It’s not that bad, relax.”

“That’s monstrous.” Donghyuck retaliates, going back to lick at his ice-cream. “Anyways, your violent way of eating ice-cream aside –“

And it’s back to Sicheng and strawberries and Doyoung’s nagging that drives him insane – all of which Mark takes in. There’s something about the way Donghyuck speaks, his exaggerated hand movements and dramatized narration, sing-song voice and silvery tone, that has Mark spellbound – like he’s conjuring up a spell that’s hidden behind his casual words.

It’s enchanting, almost, and Mark finds himself lost in the mirth that lurks in Donghyuck’s eyes with every jab he makes. There’s a feeling bubbling in his chest, fizzing and filling his heart. It’s airy. It’s light. And Mark doesn’t hate it. 

The bubbling stops when Donghyuck’s phone starts to buzz loudly, cutting the boy off mid-sentence.

“Oh shit. Break’s long over.”

Mark checks his phone and panics when he realises he’s disastrously late. Tossing their rubbish, Donghyuck pushes through the door and Mark follows him out. Donghyuck grabs his hand and without warning, they’re running down the street, wind carding through their hair and burning their lungs.

“Give me your phone, Mark Lee from Canada,” Donghyuck asks when they’re two blocks away. Mark hands him his phone and watches Donghyuck type in his number. “I’ll see you around.” He says, handing it back and crossing to the other side with a wave.

Mark only checks his phone when Donghyuck’s long gone. He smiles at the new contact displayed on his screen, his heart fizzing again.

Donghyuck. <3

-

Jaemin and Yuta were acting weird ever since Mark had stepped foot into work on Tuesday morning. He’s wiping down the counter when the questionable two saunters out of the staffroom. Yuta whispers in Jaemin’s ear, pushing him towards the kitchen and smiling at his back proudly.

Mark looks up in thought, slowly connecting the dots.

“What are you two doing?”

Yuta scratches his nose. “Helping a little brother out.”

Mark abandons his station and gently pushes open the kitchen door. He spots Jaemin leaning on the counter as Renjun chops up the ingredients for today’s lunch special – fried rice.

Mark makes a mental note to ask for some later.

“How’d you find out?”

“I found him sleeping the pantry with his hand in a box of cereal.” He shrugs, “so I woke him up and made him tell me.”

Mark peeps into the kitchen again to see Jaemin and Renjun not doing anything out of the ordinary, so he couldn’t really figure out what Yuta was making him do.

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him to man up and pull Renjun into a passionate kiss that’ll blow the other guy right out of the park.”

Mark wants to comment that Jaemin would never do that, because Renjun wouldn’t be happy. But he stops when he remembers something direr.

“Do you know who the guy is?”

Yuta shakes his head and pouts. “He wouldn’t tell me. Why? Do you know?”

Mark frantically shakes his head and Yuta looks away in disinterest. “That’s boring. Then I could’ve seen who he was competing with.”

The kitchen door creaks open to reveal a freaked Jaemin. He throws himself over the counter and gasps. “I asked him out to the movies.”

Yuta looks vaguely disappointed, having wanted Jaemin to be bolder, but cheers him on anyways.

 “Flirting is so stressful.”

“But you’re always flirting with Renjun. That’s like, your job.” Mark points out.

“Yeah, but this time I am serious. I wanted him to know that I am serious.”

“Are you sure he knows it’s a date-date?” Jaemin appears stunned, before rolling his head and whining. Mark bites his lip, apologetic for killing the mood. “Sorry man.”

“No, no. He doesn’t, I’m sure.” Jaemin stands upright and puffs his chest. “But I’ll make sure he does by the end of it. Don’t worry.”

Naturally, Mark worries, but about something else entirely. He worries about Renjun, his budding relationship. He worries about Jaemin, and everything that could go wrong.

The doorbell rings and enters a family of four, prompting him to push his thoughts aside as Jaemin takes the front desk, and Mark prepares a table.

“Yikes,” Donghyuck says, feet scraping the concrete as he mindlessly swings his legs. They’re back at the ice-cream parlour, sitting outside on the bench as per Donghyuck’s request, to enjoy the rare bearable day during the heart of Seoul’s insufferable summer. Mark doesn’t comment further – he’s entranced by the way Donghyuck’s bare legs glisten under the sun, and how his feet barely touch the ground when he sits with his back pressed against the wall.

It’s weird because Mark isn’t that much taller. It’s weird because Mark’s just realised that Donghyuck’s legs are too long for his body, and yet the boy manages to be so tiny. It’s weird because Mark doesn’t think it’s weird at all – it’s impossibly cute, and by all the powers vested in him by whatever holy deity watching from above, he squashes the overpowering urge to coo.

“Mark.” Donghyuck pats his arm, “Mark, are you listening to me?”

“What?”

Donghyuck frowns as Mark gapes dumbly and meets his gaze, only for a peachy glow to spread across his cheeks, tearing his eyes away from Donghyuck’s. “Are you okay? You were like, glaring.”

Mark blinks back at him, then quickly fixes his face into a shy smile. “Oh, sorry. I’m fine, now, you were saying?”

“I was saying, that your two friends sound like they’re in a mess. They really need to sort it out, before someone gets hurt – especially the current boyfriend.”

Mark bites the inside of his cheek, contemplating whether he should tell Donghyuck their identities – particularly Jeno’s. They’re friends, after all, and Donghyuck thereby has a right to know if Jeno’s involved.

Mark nods to the conclusion in his mind, missing Donghyuck’s smile and mumble. ‘It’s Jeno.”

“What?” Donghyuck parrots Mark’s earlier statement, a bit louder.

“My friend is dating your friend, and my other friend is after my friend, who’s dating your friend…” He trails off, trying to make sense of his words in his head. After wracking his brain for a few seconds, Mark gives up and discloses the names.

“Shit.” Donghyuck’s back hits the wall, feet skid to a halt. “That’s not gonna end pretty.”

Mark hums in agreement, feeling the worry from earlier on crawl to his throat. There are many things their little family-of-friends have been able to overcome, and will be able to in future – many fights and misunderstandings that were fixed swiftly and without harm. But this, crossing friendship borders into new territory, blindly and obliviously, Mark fears will ensure damage.

“But, if Renjun and Jaemin are as good friends as you say, whatever happens, they’ll work it out.”

Donghyuck’s got his whole body facing Mark, leaning in with the warmest smile. He threads his fingers through Mark’s fringe, pushing the hairs away from his eyes.

“Don’t worry so much.” He presses a finger to his forehead and wiggles it, “you’ll get wrinkles.”

“I just,” he pauses to sigh, “I wish I could help them.”

Keening into Donghyuck’s touch, he breathes in deeply. Donghyuck’s hand is cool from the ice-cream, and runs softly through his hair, melting away the tension. Mark grabs his hand and brings it to his cheek, rubbing his thumb over Donghyuck’s knuckles.

“Thanks.”

Donghyuck’s eyes soften as they flicker between Mark’s. He runs his tongue over the swell of his lips, then, bites down and nods.

“We should head back now.”

-

Exchanging numbers with Donghyuck, coupled with the pair spending every break together, results in two things. One being Mark constantly glued to his phone, pouncing on it with every ring or buzz or beep. The other being, consequently, Mark spending all his time at work on his phone, having to slide it across the counter or stuff it into his jeans hastily whenever Taeyong walks by.

It’s becoming an issue because Yuta is catching on, and Mark’s running out of excuses.

“Your seatmate again?” Yuta asks, leaning over Mark’s shoulder. He quickly locks his phone and throws it onto the counter like he wasn’t just in the middle of an hour-long conversation with Donghyuck.

“Yeah, pssh. He’s so annoying, can’t leave me alone.”

Yuta’s face pinches as he eyes Mark suspiciously. “Right.” The Japanese man slouches onto the stool and relaxes over the counter, still concentrated on Mark. “Think this seatmate has a crush on you?”

“W-what?! No! No way!” Mark shakes his head furiously, arms maniacally flying. He can feel the blood rush to his cheeks at the mere thought of Donghyuck liking him, then quickly shuts it down. They’re just friends, and even though Mark thinks he’s pretty, it doesn’t mean they have to be anything but. 

“Okay, okay. Calm down. I was just asking.”

Yuta mutters under his breath as looks away from Mark, giving the boy some time to pick his phone up and text Donghyuck back.

As the weeks have gone by, Yong-wanhi’s has been gradually regaining their customers, and Taeyong has subsequently stopped staring out the window every hour and scowling. This would be a good thing, for now, the rest of them can relax, except Taeyong has resumed hovering over their shoulders and monitoring their work, which makes life harder for Mark, who just wants to text during work peacefully. It’s hard enough with Yuta idly strolling around the café and butting into everyone’s business. He doesn’t need Taeyong’s wrath after him as well.

Taeyong chooses the exact moment to burst in from the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, deep scowl on his face. Yuta scampers back to his station – wherever that was – and Mark starts vigorously scrubbing the counter he’d just cleaned.

“Has anyone heard from Jaemin? He hasn’t been here for the past three days and without a word as well.”

That gets Mark’s attention. He stops immediately and looks around him, realising that Jaemin wasn’t at his spot by the coffee machine, or anywhere else. He bites hard on his lip, cursing himself for not noticing his friend’s strange absence.

“Even Renjun doesn’t know where he is. Said he hasn’t been home for a few days.”

Shit.

Mark runs his palms down his face, cursing over again in his head as he connects the dots. Renjun and Jaemin’s date was a few days ago, and Jaemin’s been absent since.

“Do you think I should give him a call?” Taeyong asks, voice filled concern.

Mark shakes his head. “I’m sure he’s fine. If anything happened, he probably just wants some space right now.”

Taeyong doesn’t look fully convinced, swiping his tongue over the swell of his lip repeatedly as his eyes wander in thought. Finally, he nods and leaves.

Once Taeyong is out of sight, Mark flings open the kitchen door and grabs a startled Renjun by the wrist, pulling him behind the shelves of fresh rolls – which does nothing to hide them.

“Ow! That hurts!”

“Where’s Jaemin?”

Renjun freezes and stops rubbing at his wrist, head lifting slowly to look Mark in the eye. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him in a while.”

Out of frustration, Mark rolls his neck and sighs. He knew this would all be a terrible idea.

Renjun looks visibly tense before him, arms slack by his sides and head bowed – and Mark’s heart softens. He pulls the smaller boy into his arms; Renjun, releasing a shuddering breath as his face hits Mark’s chest.

“He won’t reply to any of my texts.” Renjun sniffs, words spilling from his lips in incomprehensible bubbles. “I said I was s-sorry. W-what if he h-hates me?”

Although Mark doesn’t have a clear picture of what occurred, he doesn’t need to ask to know that Jaemin was rejected, just like he’d feared.

By now, Renjun’s sobs are soaking his thin shirt, small frame shaking with every heart-wrenching sob. Mark pats down his hair and rubs his back, letting him cry until his knees go weak.

Out of the corner of his eyes, on a stainless platter hanging overhead, his eyes meet Taeyong’s, before the latter closes the door and silently steps away.

“Who was it?!”

Yuta and Mark jolt under Johnny’s booming voice.

“Well? Who told Jaemin to just barge into Renjun’s budding relationship and wreak havoc with his emotions?”

“Well…” Yuta steps forward, and Taeyong facepalms. “Those weren’t my exact words. I didn’t know it’d turn out like this. You should’ve seen Jaemin, he was miserable! I couldn’t let my little bro live like that!”

Mark sheepishly looks around the empty store, before warily glancing at Johnny. The taller man shakes his head at them, and Mark gulps.

“You guys need to stop meddling. They’re both old enough to work things out for themselves. They don’t need anyone else in their business.”

Taeyong steps up, arms crosses over his chest. “Johnny’s right. It’s not okay for us to disturb Renjun’s choices based on what we want, or what someone else wants. You two, and Jaemin, need to realise that.”

Mark doesn’t voice out that this is exactly what he’d been fearing, and what has been keeping him back from helping either of them, like Yuta. This is exactly what he needed to hear, to understand that sometimes, stepping back is okay and that not all problems can be fixed swiftly.

Johnny throws his arms over their shoulder, ruffling their hair. “Don’t worry too much. We’ll just give them some space. You two are great for trying to help them out, now it’s time for them to help themselves.”

-

“We meet again.”

Mark looks up from his grocery list to spot Donghyuck, gently knocking their trolleys to get his attention. He smiles right upon seeing him, forgetting about Renjun’s flavoured water and drifting to Donghyuck’s side instead.

“Some Sunday shopping?”

“What else does it look like?” Mark scans the mass of items in Donghyuck’s trolley. “What’s all that for?”

“Oh,” Donghyuck says, as if just realising he was carrying enough meat to start a butcher store of his own. “Jaehyun moved to a new apartment recently, so Doyoung is insisting on a farewell dinner for his current place. It holds a lot of stupid memories.” He wipes away a fake tear and sniffs dramatically.

“Sounds fun.”

“It is.” Donghyuck gives him a once over then smiles brightly. “You should come.” Mark shakes his head, but Donghyuck insists, “Jeno’s bringing Renjun. It’s kind of like he’s taking him to meet his family.”

“I don’t think –“

“Oh, come on! I’ll be making my special ribs! You can’t miss out on those!”

Mark muses over the idea for a moment, “I’ll think about it.”

That’s enough for Donghyuck’s smiles to grow wider, and for Mark’s heartbeats to stutter. He keeps forgetting the effect Donghyuck has on him.

He pushes through the aisles, collecting the rest of his items as Donghyuck chatters excitedly beside him. It’s been a while since they last met like this, with Mark spending breaks with Renjun and having to decline Donghyuck’s offers of heading out to their usual place. Before he knew it, he’d come to miss Donghyuck’s presence, only realising how empty he’d felt when the sunshine boy filled it again.

Towards the end of the trip, Donghyuck grabs a whole pint of cookie dough ice-cream. “We’ll eat as much as possible.” He clarifies, dropping the item by the counter.

Plastic bags tied to Mark’s bike, and Donghyuck’s sitting by his feet, the pair make an impromptu picnic at an empty park nearby.

Mark digs into the cold treat, as Donghyuck softly hums to the sound of the summer wind. As it blows, Donghyuck’s shorts ride up to reveal smooth, honeyed legs. Mark chokes on his spoon, brain freezing up.

“Shit.” He curses, holding onto his head, waiting for the dull ache to pass.

Donghyuck chuckles, leaning over to rub his head. “Silly, eat slowly, it’s not going anywhere.”

Mark blushes and looks away, focusing on a daisy on the grass that bends with the breeze. For a moment, they bask in the comfortable silence, letting the brush of leaves fill the gaps until Donghyuck speaks up.

“I went to the record store the other day, during break, and Yerim was packing the shelves.” He grows silent, lips pressing together. “They’re selling the store. No one wants old records anymore.”

Mark places his hand above Donghyuck’s and caresses his knuckles. “Sorry, I know you really liked that place.”

“It’s okay. Good things come and go, and we learn to move on.” Donghyuck lifts his hand and tangles his fingers in Mark’s, “I wish this didn’t have to go though.”

After a deep sigh, Donghyuck bounces back to his chirpy self, grabbing the tub for himself and stabbing his plastic spoon in. In an attempt to scoop out a large bite, the handle snaps, leaving him spoon-less.

“Why?!” Donghyuck wails, whining at his luck.

Mark chortles and tosses him his spoon. “Use mine.”

“Ew,” Donghyuck scrunches his nose, “I don’t want your cooties.”

“Don’t be annoying,” Mark argues, but as Donghyuck complies and shoves the spoon into his mouth, he can’t help but eye the way Donghyuck’s pouty lips curve around the spoon that had just been in his own.

Geez, Mark, can you be any more childish?

Donghyuck flicks the spoon on Mark’s head, pulling him out of a daze. “I hope you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking,” he pauses to take another bite of the ice-cream, “because if you are, you better stop.”

Mark makes a puzzled face, “what are you saying?”

“I think you know what I’m saying.”

With that, Donghyuck takes another bite of the ice-cream, dragging his lips slowly over the spoon. Mark gulps and has the decency to blush, like flames to lint.

“Gosh, you’re so easy, Mark Lee from Canada.”

-

It’s a quaint Monday at Yong-wanhi’s. This week, Yuta’s been doomed to the dishes, with Taeil up front for a change. The old man takes his new role with charm, making sure to engage with every customer that enters the store, smiling at every baby, and when change is short, waving them off with an “all good. The rest is on the house.”

“Damn, he’s out for Shotaro's position as the customers’ favourite.” Johnny examines from the sidelines, and Shotaro takes it to heart to up his game, puffing out his chest and walking off.

“Why didn’t we do this earlier?” Mark asks, watching Taeil hand another cookie to a crying child. “This change would’ve been great for business earlier.”

Johnny shakes his head, “that’s exactly why. He’s a favourite with the customers, but he’s too soft. Sometimes, you need ones like Yuta to handle the not-so-nice patrons.”

The morning starts off easy, with the new-usual stream of customers. From the previous week’s mishaps, Mark hopes that this week will be kinder to them. His mind drifts to Jaemin, who’s been MIA since, heart dropping to his stomach out of dismay. It’s only one person, and yet the entire store feels empty without him – like there’s a gaping hole in their home.

“What’s up guys?! What did I miss?!”

Johnny and Mark whip their heads around to greet Jaemin, lunging at the boy and pulling him into a hug. Taeyong, upon hearing his voice, runs out of the kitchen, hands covered in flour, tackling the boy and smothering him in white dust.

“Do you,” he pulls his cheeks, “have any idea,” pinches his arms, “how worried we were?!” He jostles him by the shoulders as Jaemin screams for help. “Ungrateful idiot! Thinking he can just walk out without a word and leave us to rot with worry!”

Jaemin wriggles out of Taeyong’s nipping fingers and cowers behind Mark. “I’m sorry! I just really missed my mum, and I wanted to go home for a bit. I didn’t want to bother anyone.”

Taeyong steps back and looks at Jaemin sadly. He doesn’t press further, brushing aside his lie. Mark cuts the tension by pulling Jaemin into a headlock, yelling at him for not bothering to text back.

“You even made Renjun cry! How are you going to make up for that?!”

At the sound of the boy’s name, Jaemin stiffens, gently pulling himself away from Mark’s hold to look towards the kitchen door. Sure enough, Renjun’s peeking through the door, shying away when Jaemin notices him. He cracks a smile, which Renjun returns, slowly stepping out to welcome Jaemin back.

Jaemin meets him halfway, lifting him into a tight hug, whispering words of apology over and over in his ears, as Renjun chides him for leaving.

“Was it because of me?” Renjun asks quietly against the crook of his neck, tears brimming his eyes.

“No, no way.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me.”

Jaemin sighs in defeat and sets Renjun down, cupping his cheeks and thumbing over the ripe swell tenderly. “Yeah, but it’s okay. I had some time to think about some things, and I’m okay now.” He kisses his crown and pulls him in again. “We’re okay now.”

Taeyong gives Jaemin the rest of the day to adjust back to the schedule, letting him wander around from station to station to – in the words of Yuta – bother them. It’s ironic because normally, it’s what Yuta does.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Mark asks as he wipes the same glass clean for the fifth time. It’s rush hour, yet there’s hardly anyone in the store, and he’s pretty sure Taeyong is losing his mind, but not choosing to voice any of it.

“This place is still as dead as ever. How come Taeyong isn’t back on his game –“

“Jaemin.”

The boy bows his head and exhales, shoulders relaxing, body wilting like he’d been forcibly standing upright all day. “We hung out. Watched a movie. In the end, I kissed him. He didn’t kiss back.” He waits for Mark to react, but is met by silence. He’d been expecting it, after all. “He froze, and panicked. Then I panicked. And he cried.” He shrugs his shoulders, still turned away from Mark. “I got the message after that.”

The seconds of silence that follow drag on forever. Mark isn’t shocked, but he hurts for Jaemin. There’s an unsettling discomfort in his chest at his friend’s sadness, and this dark, selfish part of him wishes Jeno never came into the picture – that Jeno never happened at all.

A voice in his head – Johnny’s he recognises – reminds him that this is their problem, and theirs only. That Renjun’s feelings and choices are his own. So he closes his mouth, extends both arms over Jaemin’s shoulder and drapes himself over him in a sloppy hug. A wordless reassurance, that he’s here. Jaemin responds fondly, clutching at Mark’s back and releasing a shaky breath into his shoulder.

“Jaemin,” they pull apart at the sound of Renjun’s small voice, “can we talk? Properly, this time?”

Jaemin turns to Mark, who nods and sends him off with a light thump to his back, watching as Renjun’s pinkie curls around Jaemin’s as he leads him away.

The two reappear towards closing time, with Jaemin taking the task to close the shop as a way of apologizing for his unwarranted absence. Mark and Renjun offer to stay back and help, but he declines, saying that it’s fine, and he still needs some time.

Mark doesn’t get it at first, but when Jaemin glances at Renjun, and he follows to see the Chinese male’s apologetic expression, thin lips, he understands.

“With time,” Taeyong says simply when he drops the two of them off at their apartment. “With time.”

Renjun nods, weakly pushing the door shut.

-

“So, are you coming?”

Mark takes another big lick of his ice-cream, looking at Donghyuck in confusion. “What?”

“To the dinner!”

Donghyuck’s legs are violently swinging, feet scraping against the pavement, as they sit back at their usual spot just outside the ice-cream parlour. Mark doesn’t admit it, but he missed coming here, with Donghyuck especially. It’s a place of their own, that they made their own, and he didn’t know he needed it until Donghyuck arrived in his golden glory.

He’s still stuck on coffee, and Donghyuck’s decided to go through all the flavours one by one apparently, with a soft strawberry cone in his hand.

“Sorry,” another lick, “I forgot.”

Donghyuck hums, “so? Are you coming?”

“Well –“

“Please? Pretty please?”

“Why do you want me there anyway?” He looks down to his feet, finding interest in a tiny ant that swims in a dribble of melted ice-cream. “Isn’t it only for your friends?”

Donghyuck frowns at that, forcing Mark to look up with a cold hand on his thigh. “Aren’t we friends?”

Mark gulps, scavenging through his brain for an appropriate answer – one that won’t ruin everything.

I don’t want to be just friends. “I think so?”

Donghyuck peers into his eyes, before pulling back with a bleak hum. “Well, that answers your question then.” Before Mark can open his mouth to protest, Donghyuck sticks out his pinkie. “Promise you’ll be there?”

“B-but –“

“Promise?”

Mark links his finger and nods. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

Donghyuck takes the chance to lace their fingers and smile victoriously, “good. It’s next Friday, around 6:30 in the evening.” He plays with Mark’s fingers as he talks, making it hard for the older boy to focus while forcing his palms to stay dry. “I’ll text you the rest of the details.” He lets go, and Mark rubs his hands on his jeans.

“Want some?” Donghyuck offers his half-eaten cup of ice-cream at Mark’s face. The latter makes a disgusted face and pushes it away.

“That’s gross. Anything strawberry, other than real strawberry, is gross.”

“You’re just a baby.” Donghyuck chides, tongue peeking from between his lips. “You’re missing out on a world of flavours, stuck on that boring coffee-caramel cone of yours.”

There’s strawberry cream stuck to the corner of his lips, and if Donghyuck’s tongue were to flick out just a bit to the side, he’d be able to get it. Mark has half a heart to tell him, and another to wipe it away himself. But as he scrutinizes the younger boy’s lips, the curves and the dips, the spot of pink against cherry, he considers kissing it off.

Mark doesn’t think he’d mind fake-strawberry, raspberry, or even ghastly passionfruit, if it were pouring from Donghyuck’s lips.

He only notices he’s been staring when Donghyuck clears his throat, a lovely dusting of blossoms blooming on his cheeks, the shade fading down to his neck.

“W-what?”

Mark tears his eyes away, warmth flooding to his cheeks. “N-nothing. You just have a bit, uh –“ He dabs at his mouth, hoping Donghyuck takes the hint. He does, and the cream is gone – and Mark oddly misses it.

“Geez, you could’ve just told me, or pulled the gentlemanly move and wiped it off.”

He whines, but there’s an airiness to his tone. A sort of relief, mixed with disappointment. Mark knows because he feels it – at least, that’s what he thinks.

Without another moment, Donghyuck seems to shrug it off, dusting his hands and jumping to his feet. He stretches, letting the afternoon sun that hides behind the blocks scatter light over his form. His cheeks are still rosy and warm, the visible bends and curves of his limbs blushing – and Mark can’t help but feel a strong urge to nestle into Donghyuck’s warmth.

The few minutes in bed he squeezes in before early morning classes or work; the covers, all toasty and soft, delicate and plush, perfectly tousled and homey and, with it all, Donghyuck.

And the heat spreads all over him.

“I think it’s time we go back, right?”

Mark swallows and nods. “Right.”

-

Jeno’s on his way over.

Mark squints at his phone screen, reading over the message again.

What?

He’s like, at the door.

What for?

Idk. Smth abt making his ‘claims’ and what-not.

He frowns. What does that even mean?

His questions are soon to be answered as the doorbell chimes violently and Jeno saunters in with that face of his. Gorgeous face, and killer eye-smile, Mark must admit.

Although it shouldn’t have been a surprise, Mark’s jaw still drops to the floor as Jeno strolls up to the counter and props himself right in front of –

Jaemin. Oh. My God.

Mark’s neck swings towards the boy just behind him, working the coffee machine. Like Mark, he seems to be equally taken back, but more irritation and fight-response than Mark’s what-the-fuck and flight response. It’s almost like he’s been expecting him – like he’s been ready for whatever is going on all along.

He gulps, eyes darting between the two, fumbling over a pile of thoughts in his head – some of which tell him to run before things get messy, and the other which tells him to speak and dispel the tension.

Jeno beats him to it.

“Hi.” The smiling boy beams, and if Mark wasn’t so head-over-heels for Donghyuck, his knees would knock together for Jeno. “I’m looking for Renjun? We’re supposed to meet for lunch.”

Mark remains speechless because Jeno isn’t talking to him. No, Jeno isn’t even looking at him, rather, directing his question right at Jaemin. The chestnut-head clicks back to focus and sets his face, calm, and totally not about to bite Jeno’s head off for stealing his best friend and then gloating about it.

“He’s out back. I’ll get him for you.”

Jaemin disappears and Mark meekly squeaks after him, turning back to Jeno with his best, customer-friendly smile. Jeno responds courteously with an even more charming one of his own.

“It’s nice to finally meet the Mark Lee from Canada.”

By Mark’s confused look, Jeno chuckles and shakes his head.

“Sorry. You’re probably thinking what-the-fuck right now.” Jeno does a little wave, which Mark follows with an awkward one of his own. He feels out of place and bare, wishing either Jaemin or Renjun would appear right now. “Donghyuck talks about you, a lot. It’s crazy and drives everyone nuts.”

He laughs to himself, while Mark squashes the urge to ask him to elaborate with an awkward giggle. Thinking about Donghyuck talking about him makes Mark want to know more about what Donghyuck thinks and talks about him. It’s momentarily driving him crazy and anxious, all at once.

Does he think Mark is super lame? Does he only hang out with him so he can have something to laugh at? What if he’s just using him for their rivalry?

Mark knows he’s being irrational, because Donghyuck’s heart is made of a pile of sunflower petals and poppy seeds – all things soft and full of goodness. He doesn’t think he’d, ever, intentionally hurt anyone.

So why –

“Jeno, what are you doing here?” Despite his confusion, he floats over to Jeno, letting the taller male pull him into a loose hold. His hands fall on either side of Renjun’s waist, and from behind him, Mark knows Jaemin is looking.

“I thought I’d pick you up,” Jeno thumbs his waistline, pulling Renjun even closer until he’s almost on his lap. “And see if I could sneak you out early for our date.”

Mark’s suddenly too hyperaware. Jeno’s hands, his eyes on Renjun’s, and Renjun’s hand curled against his shoulder, eyes too on his, and Jaemin’s rapid blinking, gritting teeth.

He wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

Renjun hums, “I think that should be fine…” He trails off and looks around the quiet store. Deeming it manageable by the two kitchen-staff, he nods. “I’ll grab my things.”

“Okay, but wait.”

Jeno’s tugs him back by his fingers, brings his hand up to Renjun’s cheek and pulls him in to – oh –

Renjun’s pulling away by the time Mark opens his eyes, looking alarmed and slightly unnerved. His eyes flicker in Jaemin’s direction for a split second, and Mark hears a defeated sigh from behind him. He decides, now is a good time to wipe the counter, again.

“Jeno…”

“I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

Renjun doesn’t reply, simply shaking his head and walking back to the kitchen. “I’ll just get my stuff now.”

Once Renjun’s gone, Jeno deflates, groaning into his palms as he rubs them over his face. His expression is mixed with stress and desperation, like he’s yearning and vying to make sure he doesn’t mess anything up.

Lest Renjun realise otherwise is better; more familiar, simpler – Mark’s brain supplies. He now understands what ‘claims’ meant.

Jaemin’s no longer looking. He’s turned to the pastry stand, rearranging the dishes already carefully and perfectly placed by Taeyong.

“Uh, do you want a drink or something?” Mark offers Jeno, who immediately bats away his previous, tired demeanour with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“No thank you. Doyoung would kill me if I was buying from the enemy too.”

Right. Mark completely gets that.

Once Renjun returns, Jeno’s on his feet, bringing an arm around the smaller boy’s shoulder lovingly.

“I’ll see you guys later.” Renjun waves on his way out, biting down on the inside of his lip when Jaemin doesn’t bother to look. Face downcast and trodden, he leaves without another word.

Mark jolts to the sound of Jaemin making a guttural scream, furiously rubbing his hair.

“Why am I like this?!” And he’s groaning again before Mark can inquire. “I promised him we’d be fine – that I’d be fine. I promised myself I wouldn’t make things awkward.”

There isn’t much room for input between Jaemin’s dramatic wails, so Mark rubs his back and nods to his every, blabbered, cry.

“Was that Renjun’s boyfriend?”

Jaemin stops whining to freeze, joining Mark in awkwardly blinking at Ten.

“No?” Mark tries, but Ten doesn’t buy it.

“And Jaemin likes Renjun…” Ten thinks for a moment, before slapping his forehead. “Renjun has two guys?! He gets two?! What am I doing wrong?!”

“W-well he doesn’t –“

Ten cuts Jaemin off with flailing hands. “I can’t believe he gets two, I don’t even have half! I hate this job!”

He’s slamming the door to the staffroom behind him before either of the two distraught boys can figure out what to say. Once a few seconds of still silence has passed, Jaemin starts to laugh, bordering on hysteria. There are tears forming at the corners of his eyes, and frankly, Mark doesn’t understand what’s so funny – he’s still a bit stunned.

But, Jaemin’s no longer so worked-up. He’s less tense than he has been in days, so maybe Ten’s melodramatic, late-nights and no-sleep induced radical outburst was perfect timing.

-

Mark feels like he’s lived through this moment before.

Taeyong bursts through the door, a half-hour late and visibly distressed. He slams down a magazine on the counter, breathing heavily as they all crowd around him.

“Look!”

According to Better Food and Living Weekly, garden gnomes are back in, pies can be made in just 3 ingredients, and DO-DELIGHTS is the hottest new café in town and is a must visit this week.

Mark frowns, then reads the cover again before he realizes.

 “Have we ever been featured on BFL?!” Taeyong cries, flipping open to a two-page spread on the rival café only. “Read; DO-DELIGHTS is the only café that matters this week, with different themed treats and events occurring each day. Monday will begin with the ever-classic Butler-café theme; Tuesday, with a Sailor Moon theme, and the rest – you’ll just have to pop in to find out!”

Kun points to another bold caption at the corner of the page, “throw everything else away, DO-DELIGHTS is the only place you’ll be wanting to stop at…”

Taeyong goes flippant at that, pulling at his hair. “We’re already 2% down our average monthly revenue. If this goes on for a whole week –“

He doesn’t need to continue for them to understand that it means funding for the shop will be near to impossible.

Johnny scowls at the spread, flipping it close and tossing it aside. “We can’t let this deter us from what’s important guys. Does anyone have any ideas for this week?”

The circle mumbles and shake their heads weakly, sighing out of exasperation.

“We can have a buffet week.” Shotaro chimes in, turning heads. “Everyone likes them!”

They all turn to each other in an agreement, nodding and clapping Shotaro on the back. Ten punches in a few numbers in the calculator, before giving the okay.

“It’ll be hard at first, but if it’s successful, then we’ll be back on track!”

“Okay, so is that what we all agree on?” Taeyong waits for a united acknowledgement. “It’s decided then. All in guys, this week will be tough.”

“Forever!”

The tough week brings gruelling hours of work for the staff. While Mark is more than happy to lend an extra hand in saving their shop, it cuts into his break time, and bleeds into off-hours as well. Ordering, preparing, cooking, cleaning, and refilling the food takes more effort than he’d imagined, and by mid-week, Mark is exhausted.

It takes a bigger toll on Renjun, who mopes because he couldn’t see Jeno in a butler suit during break. Lucky for him, late into after-hours while they’re all packing and storing away food, Jeno arrives donned in his outfit and whisks Renjun away for an impromptu, late dinner.

Jeno looks dashing, and Mark tries not to think about how good Donghyuck looks in his costume.

Tuesday ends with Mark and Jaemin playing Dominoes on the counter whilst waiting for the others to finish up before they all head out for dinner. Renjun’s been taken away again, and Jaemin’s trying his best not to whine.

“I hope he’s taking him out for hot-pot. He likes hot-pot.” Jaemin mumbles as he knocks over Mark’s 5-minute tower with a quick flick.

“Hey!”

Mark’s phone vibrates, and he loses interest in his tower to take delight in the message that floats to his screen.

Can we meet up for dinner?

I’ll be just by the corner of the café.

He jumps to his feet, typing out a ‘yes’ and throwing off his apron. “Guys, I’m sorry but I’ve got to go…somewhere.”

Taeyong sticks his head out of the kitchen door to squint at him. “Uh, sure. You’ve worked hard, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He regards Jaemin packing the Dominoes pieces and calls him over. “Help me out here will you.”

Mark runs out the door, turning to bid Jaemin goodbye. “I’ll see you at home.”

Greeting the summer night chill, he finds Donghyuck further down the complex, dressed in a hooded cloak. As he steps closer to the light, he gets a better view of Donghyuck’s form and stops.

“Oh my God.”

Donghyuck looks up at his voice, grinning from ear to ear. “Nice, huh? It took us days to make.”

The boy is dressed head to toe in a Sailor Venus outfit, with bright orange boots that reach his knees, contrasting against the white jeans. The white top is complete with the orange cape and blue bow, frilling at the hems to subtly imitate a skirt. Donghyuck takes his hood off to reveal a bow clipped to the back of his head, spinning around to show it off.

“It’s cute, huh?”

Mark cuts off his laughter and nods. It’s a bit overwhelming, the bright orange and stark white. Donghyuck’s shining like a beacon in the dark street, and Mark struggles to comprehend the look.

“You look, adorable. Absolutely adorable. God, I’m –“ He gushes, shaking his head. It’s not a lie, that the vibrant look suits Donghyuck, making him extra cute and loveable. Although he can’t help but laugh, his heart swells with adoration.

“I love it.” He says with finality, warming at the smile Donghyuck sends in return.

They end up at a fast-food chain not far from the store. Donghyuck’s got mustard on his white shirt from laughing too hard at Mark’s lame jokes, and the latter is fears he’ll choke if he doesn’t stop soon.

They order fries and soft-serve, and Donghyuck teaches Mark about the joys of fried potato and ice-cream.

“This is so good!” Mark exclaims, going in for more ice-cream.

“See? Maybe now you’ll try some more things I tell you about, like raspberry sorbet.”

Mark scrunches his nose in disgust. “That’s like, fake fruit blended with ice. No thanks.”

“We’ll find a medium then,” Donghyuck suggests, smiling through a mouth full of cream and potato. “I’m a cook, you should have some faith in my palate.”

Further into the night, Donghyuck takes Mark’s hand and leads him into a karaoke joint. By the time Mark’s stopped staring at their linked hands and registers where they are, Donghyuck is already pulling him into a small room, lit by tiny, glittering disco lights.

It’s all too pink, blue, red for Mark’s head, and the spinning lights make the room even more unbearable.

“Oh no, no way. We had karaoke once at the shop,” he shakes his head at the memory, “never again.”

“Please? I love karaoke!”

Mark blames his weak heart for being unable to say no.

Donghyuck starts off, naturally, by belting out the theme song of Sailor Moon itself. He bounces along to the tune, while Mark watches in amusement, admiring the way Donghyuck makes the song his.

“Okay, your turn.” He pulls Mark onto his feet. “I don’t care if you know the lyrics or not, we’re singing High School Musical numbers.”

Little did he know, that Mark was friends with one Huang Renjun, an avid fan of the franchise, and he knew the entire script by heart due to how often the Chinese boy would make them watch it.

Breaking out into The Start of Something Knew, Donghyuck is shocked as Mark turns away from the board to perform the song to no one in particular. Granted, they’re both a bit drunk on diet soda and ice-cream, so it makes sense that Mark doesn’t care anymore that the lights are too dull or that the music is too bubbly, and Donghyuck finds it all highly endearing.

Their hour is over faster than expected, and Donghyuck’s still giggly from Mark’s show of dancing to Bet On It.

“Oh my God,” Mark drops to the couch and groans into his hands, “if my friends saw me like this, they’d never let me live it down.”

“Yeah, because you were amazing!” He folds himself over Mark’s shoulders, leaning his head against his.

After a moment of silence, just the sound of Donghyuck’s tired breathing, the beat of his heart against Mark’s back, the buzzer time ticks off, and it’s time to go. Mark grabs the back of Donghyuck’s legs and lifts him onto his back, carrying him out of the store.

“Aren’t you lucky?” Donghyuck mumbles, arms folded across Mark’s shoulders, brushing against his collar. “It’s not every day you get to carry a Sailor Scout on your back.”

Mark rolls his eyes, focused on making sure Donghyuck doesn’t slip off his back.

He sets him down once they arrive at the bus stop. The night is cold, and colder still, without the weight of Donghyuck pressed against him. He shivers, and looks to his side, wondering if Donghyuck feels cold too. He doesn’t think so, because Donghyuck is always warm. His plump skin and tender hands, always tempered with heat, rubbing it off on whatever, wherever, he leaves his touch.

For what it’s worth, Mark wraps an arm around him, rubbing his shoulder. Donghyuck keens to the touch, craning his head against Mark’s neck.

“My bus is here.” He says, pulling away as the bus pulls up to the curb. “Don’t forget about this Friday.”

“I won’t.”

Donghyuck waves as the doors shut, disappearing into the night. Mark pulls his jacket tighter around him, digs his hands into his pocket, and heads home.

The apartment is dark and quiet except for the light of the TV screen, rolling the end credits of a movie. Jaemin and Renjun are curled up on the couch, sound asleep, head lolling against the other’s. Mark pulls out the recliner and drapes a sheet over them, switching the TV off, before finally, heading into his room.

-

The end of the tiresome week rolls around, and according to Ten’s calculations, the buffet was a success. They’ve managed to cover for their lost revenue, and even had a bit of surplus. They celebrate by closing early and feasting on the rest of the food – Taeyong even grants them

“Junjunie, you’re not eating?” Jaemin asks, concerned.

“No, I have a dinner to go to. Sorry.”

Jaemin shakes his head and shoves a fork full of shawarma into his mouth. “It’s okay, I’ll eat for you. I’m so hungry!”

“I’m never going through a week like this ever again!” Yuta massages his shoulders, rolling his neck. “I’ve washed so many dishes my hands are permanently pruned.” He picks up his fork, rubbing his thumb over it. “I can’t even feel it!”

Taeyong shakes his head as he helps Johnny stack the chairs onto the table. Mark finishes cleaning out the coffee machine, finally able to join the rest before Jaemin finishes all the chicken.

“Okay, anyone willing to close shop today? Johnny and I have a late seminar to go to.” Taeyong asks, looking around the table. “Anyone?”

“I’ll do it. I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

“Thanks, Mark. Don’t forget to check the kitchen properly.”

Shotaro squeezes in between Mark and Renjun, turning to whisper to him. “Hey, did you know Yerim’s shop was closing?”

Mark recalls a faint memory of Donghyuck, telling him about the impending closure of the store. “Yeah, I heard, why?”

“Today’s the last day. Their clearing everything out.” He breaks away to pile garlic bread onto his plate. “Yerim was supposed to take over, remember?”

Truthfully, Mark had forgotten. His brain had wiped out the fact that Yerim didn’t already own the store, seeing as she was always there in place of her father anyways. “So why isn’t she?”

“She’s moving.” He fits in between bites, “studying abroad.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you didn’t know?”

Mark slumps against his seat. “No…”

Shotaro shrugs, “maybe you can go see her?”

“Hey!” Yerim drops an empty box to rush over to Mark, greeting him with a hug. “You haven’t been around for a while.”

“Yeah,” Mark looks around at the empty shelves, once filled with the decades of music. “I missed a lot.”

“It’s a bit sad, isn’t it?”

Mark simply nods, stepping over the stacks of vinyl being prepared for storage. “What’s happening to all of these?”

“Selling some, giving away some, tossing some.” She shoves the packed boxes aside to form a pathway. “We tried to get rid of as many as possible but –“ she sighs, rubbing her temples.

The records are categorised in stacks of artists, then albums, then alphabetically, Mark notices. He scans them all before he stops at the Queen pile.

“How much are you selling them for?”

“For you, it’s free. Take it as my going away gift.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.”

Yerim kisses her teeth, “yeah. It’s all depressing here. Tell you what, help me with these boxes and I’ll give you any record you want for free?”

Mark flips over the record in his hand, then once more. It’s the same one from the time he met Donghyuck here. He moves up the ordered piles, stopping at the J’s.

Jackson 5. Donghyuck.

“Okay. I would’ve helped you anyways but, that offer isn’t bad either.”

The rest of the evening consists of Mark loading boxes onto a wheelbarrow, taking them to the van out back, while Yerim clears out the last of the shelves. He files through the records as he goes, picking out the ones he remembers sharing with Donghyuck, ones he’d like to share with him, and others he assumes Donghyuck would like.

“Does Donghyuck like Batch?”

“What?”

Yerim flips the vinyl over, “Batch.”

“Yerim, that's read as Bach.”

“What?” She parrots, frowning at the album cover.

Mark giggles, “Yeah sure. I’ll take it. He’s taking music anyways – wait, how did you know?”

“That you were taking it for Donghyuck?”

Mark nods.

“All the records you picked out, are the same ones, or same artists he’d come in to play every day. He’d promise to bring you here next time.”

He blushes at being caught, making Yerim laugh.

“Gosh, you really like this guy, huh?”

Mark doesn’t reply, and it only makes Yerim laugh harder.

“You really, really like him, oh my God.”

“Can we get back to work now, please?”

“Alright, I’ll stop… even though you’re SO CUTE –“

Mark packs in the last box into the van, stretching his arms from exhaustion. The day has long since ended, and a familiar breeze shakes the warmth from the day away, leaving him with cold shivers. Back in the store, Yerim lines the dismantled shelves against the wall as they finish vacating the entire room.

“That’s the last of it.” She dusts off her hands, resting them on her hips as she gazes around the store wistfully. “This place is no more.”

“You missed something.” Mark points to an open box on the counter, pulling the wheelbarrow along.

“Oh no, that’s not for packing.”

Mark looks puzzled as he peers into the box. It’s a vinyl player, still intact.

“That’s a parting gift from me to Donghyuck. He kept this place alive the last couple of weeks, and I thought a piece of it should live with him,” she sighs, “just a little longer.”

She looks down at her feet, lightly kicking the ground. “I’ll miss it here.” Yerim chokes on her words, eyes welling up and she rubs her throat.

“Oh, no.” Mark hurries over to envelop her in a hug, pushing her hair out of her face and caressing her arms. “Here isn’t going anywhere. You’ll come back and, I’ll still be here. Donghyuck too, and Renjun and Jaemin and the rest.” He leans back and cups her cheeks, softly squishing them. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Okay.” She sniffs, “okay.”

He wraps his arms around her again, resting his chin on her head, muttering words of reassurance.

Mark completely misses the creak of the door opening.

“Oh.”

They jerk apart at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice, blinking dumbly. He looks between them, before looking away.

“Sorry.” He breathes out, rushing back out the door before either of them can say anything.

Yerim slaps Mark’s arm and hisses. “Idiot! Don’t just stand there. Go after him!”

Mark doesn’t need to be told twice, for he’s running out the door and catching up to Donghyuck’s speeding pace.

He pulls him back by his arm. “Wait, Donghyuck, no –“

“You could’ve just told me. I would’ve understood just fine.”

Donghyuck’s voice is meek and airy. He’s sniffing erratically, trying to keep his tears at bay. It’s hopeless, because he blinks, and they tumble to the pavement in fat drops. Mark’s pretty sure no one looks so heart-stopping whilst crying – but Donghyuck is. The only light that allows him to see is that of the pasty white lamp-post, and even still, Donghyuck glows.

His cheeks are puffing with every sniff, his nose is red at the tip and god, his eyes are red and swollen – but Mark’s heart has never melted faster. His heartbeat catches in his throat, as he fumbles to explain.

“There was nothing to tell. Whatever you’re thinking – don’t.”

“Then why didn’t you answer my calls? Why didn’t you show up?” He heaves, shoulders shaking, “why did I have to find out from Renjun that you never even mentioned coming? That you said you had nothing else to do?”

It clicks. The dinner. Mark had completely forgotten about the dinner, even after he’d promised.

“Oh shit. Donghyuck – I’m so sorry. It completely slipped my mind I’m – I don’t know what else to say –“

“I thought you were ignoring me. I thought…” He shakes his head, “I don’t know what I thought.”

Mark clasps his shoulder, forcing Donghyuck to look at him. “No, listen, it’s me. I just, do this thing where I forget stuff, and,” he bows his head, “I have no excuse, but I’m so sorry. I know I promised, and I’m sorry I didn’t think of it at all.”

Donghyuck sniffs again, calming down steadily. “Did you think of me? Even a little bit? Did you think to check your phone, because I texted you so many times I – I got so worried… I thought something happened or your,” he sniffs, “stupid ass got lost on the way or something.”

Mark chuckles lightly, and Donghyuck, to his relief, cracks a smile. If only he knew, that Mark had been thinking about him all day. If only he knew, that there wasn’t one moment where he wasn’t running through Mark’s mind.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, dammit.”

Donghyuck freezes as Mark cups his cheeks, pulling him closer until their lips are touching, pressing, melting.

Mark stops when he realises Donghyuck is rigid against him. His brain shuts off as he immediately backs away. His mind blanks as Donghyuck stares at him, eyes growing in shock.

“Donghyuck,” he whispers, carefully, “I’m so sorry –“

“Do it again.”

“W-what?”

“I said, do it again.”

Mark is still staring when Donghyuck gets annoyed and tells him to hurry up. He scrambles to find the perfect, sweetest angle, leaning in – and Donghyuck meets him halfway.

The curb isn’t the most ideal place for cuddling after a whirlwind of messy emotions spill all over the place, before finally coming to peace. But Donghyuck’s legs gave out, and Mark’s arms were still sore. The edge digs into his bones, as he tries to get remotely comfortable while managing Donghyuck on his lap.

“And so that’s what you’ve been doing the whole day?”

“Yeah, basically.”

“You’re so annoying. I was so worried I did something wrong and that’s why you never bothered to even reply to me.”

Mark touches the pocket of his jeans. “My phone’s still at Yerim’s store.”

“Of course it is.” He says, but there’s no harm to his tone. “It’s late now. You can get it tomorrow. I’ll come with, so I can thank her.”

They fall into a comfortable silence. Mark squeezes Donghyuck’s fingers, stealing some warmth for himself.

“I guess this is fine.” Donghyuck murmurs, breathing against Mark’s neck.

“What is?”

“This. I had something else planned but, I guess, the universe had other plans.” Mark grows quiet from thought, and without being needed to ask, Donghyuck elaborates to dispel his obvious confusion. “After the dinner, I was going to take you out for a quick walk, and you were going to stare, like you always do.” Donghyuck peers up at Mark to catch him blushing, even in the dark, then nudges into his neck again with a satisfied grin. “Then I was going to take your hands in mine, and confess, and then you were going to return my feelings and kiss me.”

“And then?”

“After that, I guess it’d just be this again.”

Mark gently rocks their bodies to the sway of the wind. His legs are numb, but he finds, he isn’t uncomfortable anymore. “You were so sure.”

“I told you, you’re easy to me.”

“Very funny.” He mock-laughs, then kisses Donghyuck’s forehead. For the first time in a while, Mark feels the pace of his heart relax and resume a stable beat.

“The only question is, since when?”

Mark laments telling him, then decides, he has nothing to lose anymore. “Since the first time.”

This has Donghyuck laughing, half from disbelief, and the other, simply pleased. “That’s good.” Donghyuck fits between laughs, sitting up to peck Mark’s lips. “That’s very good.”

-

Not much changes after that. Dating Donghyuck isn’t much different than not dating him. Except for the kissing and pulling him into his lap, all the touching and hugging, and the making sure no one other than Renjun knows he’s dating him because, as aforementioned, his friends are crazy.

“Mark, are you okay?”

“What?” He gawks at Yuta, who peers closely at his face.

“You’re looking oddly, not dazed anymore.”

Mark waves it off as being more rested, but Yuta is hard to dissuade.

“No, no no. No –“

But Taeil’s yelling at him to get back to his station before he can grill Mark any more.

Boyfriend Donghyuck means meeting at the head of the street right before work, walking together for a few minutes until they’re forced to part. He leaves kisses at the corner of his lips before he leaves, that always linger until they meet again, and he can kiss Mark fully on the mouth.

Rituals remain rituals, with them returning to the ice-cream parlour every other day, taking breaks in between because Mark’s concerned about sugar intake and diabetes and everything else that could possibly harm Donghyuck.

Eventually, Donghyuck gets him to try the strawberry flavour, and raspberry and cherry and even passionfruit. But it’s alright, because Mark’s kissing him the first time he has strawberry, and every other time after that.

Soon enough, Summer is almost over, but not before one very special day.

“Happy Birthday Mark!”

The kitchen lights flick on as party poppers and blowouts go off at his face as Mark staggers back. His friends are all crowded around him, bright faces and shining eyes. Renjun’s on Jaemin’s back – poor baby, still tiny – flailing sparklers around in the air. Yuta and Taeil are helping Kun hold up a large cake, and Johnny is holding Taeyong back from crushing him in his arms.

“You guys… is this why we closed early?”

“Of course!” Ten chimes, draping himself around Mark’s shoulders. “We’ve been planning this for a while now.”

Jaemin laughs, “yeah, the cake alone took three weeks.”

“That’s because you kept distracting me and I kept pouring too much flour.” Renjun huffs.

“Look, Mark!” Shotaro points at the cake, “I drew watermelons for you. Isn’t it nice?”

“Thanks man, it’s amazing!”

“Yeah, but then Yuta ruined it by attempting to draw your face on the cake.”

“Hey!”

Mark laughs as Shotaro points to an abysmal icing sketch of, well, he guesses it’s him – a Poptropica version of him.

“I love it.” He really does.

Taeyong wrenches himself out of Johnny’s grasp, fixing his shirt and puffing out his chest. “I’m fine, I’m okay. Not crying yet.” He whispers to the taller, frazzled man. He gathers them around the centre counter, clapping his hands together for attention.

Clearing his throat and puffing out his chest, he draws a deep breath. “I have a few words to say. I think I speak for everyone here, maybe us elder ones especially, when I say it’s been an absolute wonder watching you grow up. It’s alarming how fast you’re growing – too fast, I must say – and it’s pleasing to see you become such a fine, young man. I’m so proud to call you my little brother.” He takes another, shaky breath, and Johnny prepares the box of tissues only to get pushed away. “No I’m fine just – wooh, okay. Mark, happy birthday. May only good things be in store for you. I love you –“

“ – we –“

“ – yes, Johnny’s right. We, love you.”

They clink their glasses of diet soda before the kitchen trip disperses to bring in the food. A loud dinner and long cake-cutting ceremony later – Ten takes too many photos, and Mark can never look into bright lights again – the night ends.

“Psst, Mark.” Renjun pulls him aside, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “You might want to hang back a bit.” He winks, then slinks back to Jaemin’s side.

When everyone prepares to leave, Mark maintains a distance, counting on Renjun to file everyone out without noticing he’s gone. Once the store is clear, he sits by the front door and waits. A few minutes later, a tuft of brown hair peeks through the door as Donghyuck checks his surroundings.

“I knew you were coming.” Mark beams. If his heart gets any fuller tonight, it might just burst.

“You know me so well, don’t you dear?” Donghyuck greets him with a quick kiss, nuzzling their noses together. “Happy birthday.”

“Indeed,” Mark whispers against his lips, kissing him again, and again.

Donghyuck pries his hands off him and holds out a small bag, gesturing for him to open it. Inside, there’s a tiny box, and its size has Mark raising a brow at Donghyuck.

“Will you just open it already?!”

Mark hurries to unravel the ribbon, flipping off the lid to reveal a small, wind-up music box in the shape of a vinyl player.

“It’s custom made. Play it.”

He winds it up, and when an all too familiar melody of a pop song trickles out, he smiles.

“Boy you got my heart-beat runnin’ away,” Donghyuck snaps his fingers, eyes closed and immersed in the tune, “beatin’ like a drum and it’s comin’ your way.”

Mark outright bursts into laughter as Donghyuck breaks out into song, stopping only when the music-box does. “This is so cheesy.”

“You love it.”

He reaches out and Donghyuck comes closer, their hands meeting halfway. “I do.”

Setting the box down, he rests his hand against the dip of Donghyuck’s back, the other on his cheek, and brings him in for a proper kiss.

“What the –“

Oh, shit.

Taeyong.

-

Johnny closes the blinds as Taeyong organizes the table setting, ordering Yuta and Shotaro around because this dinner has to be perfect. Chenle and Jisung help Taeil set the tableware, as Jungwoo helps Kun carry in platters of food. Ten and Jaehyun are by the corner, bonding over the realisation that they share a business class, while Jeno and Jaemin bore holes into the back of Sicheng’s head, who’s stolen Renjun’s attention and has done so since he first stepped into the store.

“Sorry I’m late,” Doyoung says as he rushes into the store. “This last customer insisted on another parfait.”

“Ah,” Taeyong nods in understanding, “there’s always one.”

All of them finally gather around the table, chattering excitedly amongst each other. Mark captures the moment with his eyes, filing it away safely in his head, so he never forgets. Beside him, Donghyuck takes a real photo.

“I want a print of this.”

Renjun’s settled in his rightful spot between Jeno and Jaemin, leaning in to steal a quick kiss from Jeno. The two sandwiching Renjun have now bonded over the mutual understanding that they both love him, and that’s just the way it’ll be. Earlier, Mark overheard Jaemin warning Jeno to protect Renjun with his life. Jeno swore he would, and maybe, it’ll all be okay.

It isn’t unusual for Taeyong to call staff meetings in the middle of the week – he likes to live his life on the edge and keep everyone else on their toes as well. It is unusual, however, to one day announce a ‘truce’ dinner, and hold it only a day later, rushing all preparations.

Turns out, Taeyong and Doyoung are childhood friends – much to the shock of everyone. Not that they get along still, but childhood friends nonetheless.

“Crazy how things turn out right?” Donghyuck whispers in his ear as Doyoung tries to fight Taeyong for the last can of Dr Pepper.

Mark rolls his eyes at them and nods. He looks around the table once more, marvelling at the sight. Perhaps, with a few joint trust-exercises and bonding activities, maybe even some karaoke, will bring them even closer. There’s always room for their little family to grow, always room for a little change.

Under the table, he takes Donghyuck’s hand in his, gently squeezing it, and warmth floods his heart.

Chapter Text

The café is dark and empty when Renjun returns to pick up his keys. Having forgotten to have taken it with him, when Jeno dropped him home after dinner, he had awkwardly stood in front of the door, shifting his weight from feet to feet until Jeno disappeared down the street. As he sped back to work, he cursed himself for forgetting and therefore, missing the opportunity to invite Jeno inside. Jeno probably thought Renjun was uninterested, or just rude, as the boy seemed like he was expecting something, anything, more when he dropped Renjun off.

Next time, Renjun tells himself. Next time.

He switches on the lights to the dining hall and makes his way to the kitchen, yelping when he kicks open the door and gets a cry of pain in response.

“Jaemin?!”

Said boy crouches to the floor, holding his nose and groaning from the pain.

“Jaemin, I’m so sorry.” Renjun bends down to inspect the wound, “I didn’t know you were here.” He pries Jaemin’s hand away from his nose, “let me see that.”

There’s a drop of blood trickling down to his lip from a nose that’s swollen, and red. Renjun grimaces at the sight.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

Renjun shakes his head, tutting and helping Jaemin up. He sits him by the counter and brings out a bag of frozen peas, pressing it gently to Jaemin’s nose.

“Tilt your head back.”

Jaemin listens, taking the cool compress from Renjun and pressing it to his nose, while squeezing the bridge close.

Renjun pouts, gently pushing Jaemin’s fringe away from his eyes, “I’m so sorry. What are you doing here anyways?”

“Lock up duty.” His voice comes out thin and squeaky, making Renjun crack a smile.

“You sound weird… but you didn’t go out for dinner with everyone else?”

Jaemin shakes his head and shrugs, “I wasn’t feeling it. We were going out for hot-pot and you weren’t there. It seemed wrong.”

That makes Renjun laugh, soft giggles floating throughout the room. “That’s a silly excuse, you should’ve went.” When Jaemin doesn’t reply, Renjun sighs, leaning his head onto the boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No. don’t be. Don’t apologise for your happiness.” He tosses the bag of peas onto the table. The swelling has stopped, and he even wriggles his nose for good measure. “I’m glad you’re happy. Sad that it can’t be me, but, glad nonetheless.”

“Thank you.” Renjun moves away to the fridge, taking out some bread and margarine, salad and lunch-meat. “Let me make it up to you though, with a sandwich.”

Jaemin bounces off his seat and beams, slinking up behind Renjun to peer over his shoulder as he assembles the food. “You’re so good to me Junjunie.” He wraps his arms around his middles, noses the crook of his neck. “Thank you.”

“It’s just a sandwich, but you’re welcome.”

As Jaemin eats, Renjun pulls his sleeves up and dons an apron, deciding to start ahead with the dessert preparations for tomorrow. Morning prep has been gruelling enough with the savoury items for the buffet, so whatever he can ease, he decides now is a good time to do so.

“I’m just gonna start the batter for the mini-cakes for tomorrow.” Renjun says as he pulls out a small stepping stool, trying to reach the flour up on the top shelf. He doesn’t understand why it’s always stored there – none of the cooks are tall.

“Sure.” Jaemin folds the last big bite of his sandwich in half and hastily swallows it down with water, keeping a watchful eye on Renjun, teetering on the stool. “Junie, wait, let me help.”

“It’s okay,” he pushes the flour with his finger to the edge, just enough so he can grab it. “I’ve got –“ He’s cut off by his own scream as the bag tips over the edge, falling flat on its side and pouring flour all over him. “Oh my God.” Renjun sobs, frozen from shock.

“Oh. My. God.” Jaemin parrots, gaping at the white ghost of Renjun before him. He helps Renjun get down, dusting the flour out of his fringe before it gets into his eyes. When Renjun looks up, his eyes are glasses, lips forming a pout – cherry red amongst the white.

And Jaemin starts laughing.

“Hey! It’s not funny.”

Jaemin clutches his stomach, doubling over in fits. “You look hilarious!”

“No…” Renjun whines, shaking his legs, “I want to cry.”

“Aw, baby,” Jaemin coos, reaching out to swipe flour off Renjun’s cheeks. “I’m only joking. You’re still pretty.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, pushing Jaemin away. “I hate you.”

“I’m being nice!”

“You’re laughing!” Renjun stomps his feet, huffing in annoyance.

This only has Jaemin cooing further, coming up to pinch Renjun’s cheeks despite the latter’s protests and cries for help. He swats Jaemin’s hands away and whines to be let go. “Stop it! You’re such an – an –“

“An?”

Renjun bursts, “an egghead!”

“Junie, stop, really. You’re being too cute.”

At that, Renjun sticks his hand out to the carton of eggs on the counter, picking two up in his hands and smashing them on Jaemin’s head. The yolk dribbles down his hair and falls onto his shoulder.

Renjun giggles, “egghead.”

A tight-lipped smile forms on Jaemin’s face as he nods. “Okay. You got me there.” Renjun giggles again, laughter bubbling delightfully in Jaemin’s ears and he tries, very hard, to not let it affect him. “What were we making again? Batter?”

Confusion spreads over Renjun’s face right before Jaemin hauls him over his shoulder.

“Let’s make some batter!”

Ignoring Renjun’s shrill cries of protest, Jaemin lays him down on the counter, pinning him in place. He tickles Renjun’s stomach, turning the screams into chuckles.

“Let’s see, what goes into batter? We’ve already got the flour…” He scratches his head in feigned thought.

“Jaemin, no! Stop!”

“Some eggs.” He singsongs, tapping them on the edge of the counter with one practiced hand and cracking them over Renjun’s body.

The cool, slimy liquid seeps through Renjun’s shirt and spills onto his stomach, as his shirt rides up slightly from all the squirming. “Stop!” He fits between laughs. “Bad Jaemin. Bad!”

“What the hell Junie?” Jaemin laughs as he struggles to hold Renjun in place. “Now, let’s add some vanilla –“

“ – Jaemin!”

“Can’t forget the milk!”

As he reaches over to grabs the milk, his hold slackens and Renjun immediately sits up. “No Jaemin, stop. That’s enough.” Jaemin smiles, but complies, putting the milk back down. “God, I feel disgusting.” He whines, shaking his head as he looks over himself.

“You’ll have to wear the uniform home.”

Renjun looks at Jaemin and frowns, flicking his cheek. “Whose fault is that?”

Jaemin scoffs, “you got flour on yourself first!”

“But you made it worse!”

Jaemin doesn’t argue against that. He helps Renjun off the counter, holding him up so he doesn’t slip on the broken eggs on the floor.

“Woah there.”

Renjun grabs onto his shoulders, keeping himself steady as Jaemin tries to push the mess aside with his shoes. He leans back, and catches Renjun staring; lips pressed into a thin line, eyes scattered over his face. Jaemin colours under his stare, looking elsewhere, then back at Renjun.

Suddenly, everything is too close. They’re too close. Renjun’s body is too close. His lips, too close. Too red. Too plump and plush, and the devil in his head wonders how they’d feel against his. How perfectly they’d press against his.

Eyes half-lidded, he leans down, inching closer to the forbidden buds and –

Renjun clamps his palm over Jaemin’s mouth before he can intrude further. Jaemin looks up, catches the look of fear that flashes through Renjun’s eyes, before they pool with apology.

“Jaemin,” He breathes, and Jaemin closes his eyes, “no.”

Oh. Right.

If only they belonged, between his.

But they don’t.

They’re someone else’s now, and there’s nothing Jaemin can do about it.

“Sorry.”

Renjun nods, but doesn’t reply. Jaemin’s hold on him loosens, and he slips away with the excuse of getting cleaned up.

When Renjun returns from a quick shower in the staff-bathroom, the mess is already cleaned up – almost like it never happened. Jaemin is restocking the flour, on a lower shelf this time. His hair is clean of eggs, wet and flat against his head, most likely from the hose in the dish room, Renjun supposes.

“You should’ve waited. I would’ve helped you.”

Jaemin turns around, facing Renjun, who keeps his distance by the door. “No,” he clears his throat, “it’s fine. Most of it is my fault anyway.”

Renjun bites his lip in thought, slowly making his way closer. He unwraps the towel from his head and throws it over Jaemin’s, helping him dry his hair.

“You’ll catch a cold like this.”

Jaemin hums and closes his eyes, letting Renjun rub his head.

“Do you want to go back home now? We can watch a movie until we pass out on the couch?” Renjun suggests, smiling softly when Jaemin nods sleepily.

“That sounds great.”

The walk back home is silent. As always, their paces are in sync, never too far from the other, just close enough for their hands to brush past. Whereas before, Jaemin would’ve taken the opportunity to grab it, this time, he doesn’t.

“So,” he starts, blowing out the remaining air from his lungs, so they’re empty and hollow. “Jeno.”

Renjun turns to look at him. “What about him?”

“He’s a good guy?”

“He is.” Renjun says simply, smiling to himself. “He really is.”

“And you really, really, like him?”

They’ve stopped walking, just a few blocks away from home, but without the heart to make it there, yet. Not until –

“Yeah. I really do.” Renjun looks up at Jaemin and smiles. It’s wide, and reaches his eyes. They grow distant, but warm, and that’s enough to tell Jaemin that Renjun’s heart is elsewhere. “I really, really, like him Jaemin.”

Finally, when Jaemin sighs, his chest doesn’t hurt anymore. He lets himself breathe - invites oxygen into his veins. “Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”

Jaemin starts walking again, steady pace towards their apartment when Renjun’s hand finds his. Loosely holding hands, Renjun leans against Jaemin. “I think you’ll like him too. Just, give him a chance.”

It’s then and there that Jaemin decides that he might as well. It’s just the way it’s meant to be.

“You know, I’ll always love you Junie.”

“And you know I’ll always love you back, right?”

Of course, Jaemin knows that. Even if not in the way he wants it, he knows Renjun does. So, for what it’s worth, he holds on to what he has, and doesn’t let go.