Archive of Our Own

February 3rd

Hongjoong can’t stop yawning. 

His feet drag against the sidewalk, music blasting in his ears through his headphones while his eyes droop. He lets out a sigh, adjusting the straps of his backpack on his shoulders. He thought he’d been done with 9am lectures since sophomore year. 

But he successfully forced his eyelids to stay open for the duration of it, and now he pushes through the glass door in front of him, a shrill bell dinging above his head. The warm, rich smells of coffee and pastries lift his mood, just a little.

His gaze drifts over the windows, the counter, the menu, everything strung with bright pinks and reds, cutouts of flowers and lips and so many paper hearts plastered everywhere that Hongjoong can’t help but roll his eyes. 

He shuffles behind the counter, dropping his coat, backpack, and headphones in the break-area that consists of a single table and chairs, tying an apron around his waist and clocking in. 

“Joongie!” 

Hongjoong approaches the counter and Wooyoung greets him with a grin and a voice more shrill than the bell had been. Hongjoong grunts in response and gets to work at the espresso machine, crafting a much needed drink not for any customers, but for himself. 

“You’re grumpy.” Wooyoung observes.

“I’m tired.” Hongjoong slaps a lid on his steaming drink and takes a large gulp, ignoring the searing of his tongue in the process.

Wooyoung leans on the counter, watching Hongjoong with narrow eyes, “You’re grumpy.” 

Hongjoong sighs again, keeping an eye out for any incoming customers, “I just don’t like the whole Valentine’s Day season- thing.”

Wooyoung gasps, a dramatic hand flying up to splay across his chest, “What do you mean!? How could you not love love ?”

Hongjoong stares at him, incredulous, “Not all of us have a perfect boyfriend and a perfect relationship, Woo.” 

“Sannie is pretty perfect, isn’t he.” Wooyoung’s sigh is happy, his eyes drifting off to get lost in clouds until he snaps himself out of it, “But I think you just need to get laid.” he shrugs.

Hongjoong doesn’t exactly have a counter to that, so he just grumbles in defense, his eyebrows knitting. Wooyoung chuckles but takes pity on him, walking off to wipe down tables, leaving Hongjoong with a supportive pat on the shoulder, a “you’ll get there,” and customer duty. 

Hongjoong loves working at the Sunrise Cafe, he really does. He gets free caffeine, overly-energetic but nonetheless loveable co-workers, and the chance to interact with a lot of people every day, but not for too long. A short and sweet, usually pleasant interaction, and then Hongjoong’s small talk job is done.

Working here, he’s also realized how much he enjoys people watching. He hands out happiness in a cup or on a plate, and he gets to casually observe. He’s developed a habit of bestowing upon customers nicknames for his inner dialogue while observing, since they don’t take down names like a big coffee chain might. 

Anything that’s identifiable about someone he’ll use to refer to them in his thoughts. Glasses and Dangly Earrings are on a coffee date, a friend meet-up between Pink Hair, Platform Boots, and Ripped Blue Jeans, busy workers all named Briefcase, students cramming or typing away that are usually some variation of Backpack, and even Freckles being interviewed by Gold Necklace. Hongjoong hopes Freckles got the job. And all of it happens among their tables.

The bell dings, glass door swings open, and Hongjoong turns to address the customer, but his polished, generic, spouted-a-million-times customer service greeting immediately dies on his tongue. 

The man that just walked in is exquisite . He looks like he was handcrafted by the gods themselves, but even they must envy him. The prettiest sculpted face, round doe eyes, wavy black hair, Hongjoong could swoon. Not to mention the fact that he’s barely wearing any clothes . A white silk crop top and matching shorts are all that cover him, but Hongjoong can still see the tan, muscled, slender frame beneath-

A sharp elbow lodges into Hongjoong’s side, and he snaps his head to glare at Wooyoung, until he realizes he did it because he’d been staring wordlessly at the beautiful customer, not serving him. 

Hongjoong’s face blares a bright, hot red, and he coughs, trying to cover up his devastating embarrassment. It doesn’t work.

“H-Hi, sorry- welcome in! What can I get you?” Hongjoong winces when he stutters, his voice a little too loud and unsteady. 

But the handsome customer only has a gentle smile on his face, his wide eyes kind, although there’s a small twinkle there.

“That’s quite alright.” He says, his proper diction catching Hongjoong off guard, “I will have…” he glances up at the menu, contemplating, before turning back to Hongjoong, “what would you suggest?” 

Hongjoong, who’s used to being asked the very same question, drops the ball yet again on his practiced response. It’s not his fault there’s a six pack of abs on display for his eyes to keep wandering down to without his permission. Plus, he didn’t expect the pretty man to ask for his opinion. 

“Oh! Well, what- uh, what do you normally like to drink? Then I can recommend something similar.” 

The man pauses again, “I am not sure.” 

Hongjoong just kind of malfunctions, and blinks at him. He has got to get himself together, it’s just suddenly so hot in here .

“Oh that’s okay!” He laughs, and then abruptly cuts himself off because the sound is still too loud. He can feel how hot his face is, and knows it must be absolute cherry by now. He clears his throat and tries again, “Our seasonal drink is really popular, so I’d definitely recommend that.” 

“Sounds lovely.” The man smiles again. 

Hongjoong goes through the motions of ringing up his order, and when he recites the total to him the man pulls out a golden card. This time, when the payment is done, Hongjoong’s disappointed that the interaction now has to end so he can make the drink, as mortifying as it’s been. 

“I’ve got it.” Wooyoung calls from behind him, and when Hongjoong turns his head to look at him he winks before getting started on the man’s drink. 

Hongjoong simultaneously wants to hit Wooyoung and fall at his feet in thanks. But when he turns back to the man he’s just looking at Hongjoong, waiting patiently, and Hongjoong’s mouth feels like pure chalk. 

What he ends up blurting out next is, “Aren’t you cold!?” And then he almost slaps a hand over his own mouth, wishing the earth would swallow him whole, his cheeks never cooling as he tries desperately to save face, “I mean- um, sorry- I don’t normally comment on people’s bodies or clothes, it’s just that it’s February, but it’s not that you don’t look great because you do, you look amazing-” 

Hongjoong definitively shuts himself up, inwardly groaning and face palming repeatedly in his head. Face most certainly not saved.  

“Oh.” Seonghwa’s eyes widen, almost like he’s surprised. He looks around the cafe, where customers are sipping hot drinks wrapped in thick coats and long pants. His gaze meets Hongjoong’s again and he laughs a little, “I run hot.” 

Hongjoong’s first immediate thought is most definitely not yeah you do . Instead of trusting himself to speak again he hums in understanding with a small nod. 

“Here you go!” Wooyoung slides next to Hongjoong to place a cup down in front of the man. 

“Thank you.” The man tells him, Wooyoung slinking off again as the man reaches out to take the cup, then his eyes slip back to Hongjoong, “It’s been a pleasure to meet you…”

“Oh, Hongjoong.” 

The man’s flawless, thick-lipped smile returns, “A pleasure to meet you Hongjoong. I’m Seonghwa.” 

“It was really nice to meet you too Seonghwa.” Hongjoong squeaks, his skin on fire, “Uh- I hope you enjoy your drink!” 

Seonghwa walks off with grace and poise, while Hongjoong practically melts into an ashamed puddle, taking multiple deep breaths and debating sticking his head in the freezer. The most beautiful, perfect man he’s seen in a long time- no scratch that, the most beautiful man he’s seen ever , and he completely blows it.  

“Soooo.” Wooyoung sidles up to Hongjoong again, and Hongjoong groans. Loudly. “He’s so cute!” Wooyoung tries to speak in a hushed tone, but it’s not exactly in his repertoire. “I tried to take as long as possible to make his drink, but it did have to be done eventually.” 

“I hate you.” Hongjoong wipes down the counter just for something to do, his eyes pointedly looking anywhere but at where Seonghwa sat down, “And thank you.” 

“Anytime.” Wooyoung puffs his chest out, far too proud of himself, “You should go ask him out!” 

Hongjoong spins around, “Are you kidding!? That was a train wreck ! Not to mention that someone like that would never want to go out with me.”

“I don’t know, I saw the eyes he was giving you.” Wooyoung shrugs, his eyebrows bouncing up and down suggestively. 

Hongjoong refuses to let himself feel even a glimmer of hope at his friends’ words, but he still feels a smile sneak its way onto his face. 

He’s saved from having to respond by a couple approaching the counter, so he leaves Wooyoung’s side to help them. At least he falls back into his automatic customer service role easily, and he lets out a deep breath, feeling sturdier, sure of himself again. 

Blue Eyes and Redhead each order their drink, and then Redhead says to their friend, “Do you want to go to find us a table?” to which Blue Eyes chirps, “Sure!” and walks away from the counter. 

Redhead looks at Hongjoong again with serious features and a hint of nervousness, their voice low, “Is there any way you could do me a favor? I want to ask her out, and I was wondering if you could write ‘will you go out with me?’ on her cup?” 

Hongjoong can’t help but grin, nodding, “Yeah of course! I’m happy to.” 

“Thank you so much.” Redhead seems relieved, and steps aside to wait for the drinks. 

Hongjoong has Wooyoung step in to help the next customers while he makes their order, and when Blue Eyes’ drink is done he grabs a sharpie, using his best penmanship to write the question on the lid, complete with a heart next to the words.

When he slides the cups over the counter, Redhead takes them from him, breathing out a grateful “Thank you again,” and Hongjoong whispers “Good luck!”

Hongjoong makes himself busy, but keeps a curious eye out. He sees Redhead hand Blue Eyes their drink, looking like they’re not even breathing. Blue Eyes pauses, reads the lid, and their head snaps up to look at Redhead, who’s waiting, expectant and open. 

“Yes! I’ve been waiting for you to ask me!” Blue Eyes cries. Redhead seems to let all of the air out of their chest, both of them grinning and nearly buzzing. 

Hongjoong smiles. He’s seen them in dozens of other times, always stealing glances at each other but stepping around it, so he’s happy for the cute couple.

He goes through the rest of his shift on autopilot, making sure he’s always occupied, and the time flies by. He absent mindedly chats with Wooyoung when it’s slow, discussing their classes, homework, projects, and it’s nice. 

When his shift is over, Seonghwa is still sitting at the table he chose. Longer than most customers tend to stay, but it’s not unheard of. 

Hongjoong keeps glancing at him as he clocks out and pulls on his coat and backpack. Has he been waiting there so long for Hongjoong? No. Hongjoong feels Wooyoung’s eyes on him, and as he leaves he ignores his friends’ insistent stare, waving him off disguised as waving goodbye. 

As he moves for the door he keeps Seonghwa in his peripheral, seeing if he’ll do anything, maybe call him over or say something, but he doesn’t. He does catch Hongjoong looking at him though, and waves. Hongjoong waves back, smiling, or maybe cringing. 

He wishes he could talk to him more, could just walk over to him and strike up a conversation like Wooyoung would, but he can’t. He has no excuse to go near him, and nothing comes to mind to say, so he walks out the door, bell dinging. 

Goodbye, beautiful man with a beautiful body , he laments. He lets out a longing sigh and secures his headphones over his ears as he starts down the path towards home. 

February 7th

Physically, Hongjoong is at work, but his head is racing elsewhere.

He’s fixated on the multiple projects at school he’s elbow deep in with deadlines that are approaching rapidly, menacingly, weighing heavily on his mind and shoulders. 

Wooyoung, aware of his stressed state, had greeted him when he showed up for his shift with an already made steaming cup of coffee and a sympathetic smile. Hongjoong even almost hugged him.

Wooyoung’s also taken primary charge of customer interaction, intuitively sensing that it might be too much for Hongjoong today, leaving the older to make drinks and wipe down tables. It had been going well for a couple hours. 

That is, until the door jingles, and from a casual glance in its direction Hongjoong sees that it’s Seonghwa. Today he’s wearing long flowy pants and an even smaller crop top. Hongjoong’s mouth waters, his heart and pulse leaping as he takes Wooyoung’s place at the cash register. Every minute he’s been at work since the day he met Seonghwa he’s been looking for him, refusing to acknowledge to himself that he’s been waiting and hoping for Seonghwa to show up again. 

As Seonghwa walks up to the counter, as elegant as ever, Hongjoong tries not to appear as giddy as he feels, having to stop himself from actually bouncing on his feet. 

“Hi!” Hongjoong smiles, pleased when Seonghwa gives him a pretty smile in return, “What’ll you have today?” 

“I’d like the same as I had last time please.” Seonghwa says, “It was a-”

“I remember.” Hongjoong cuts him off without really meaning to, and then wonders if he’ll ever be able to get through a conversation with the man without blushing furiously. 

“Ah, very good.” Seonghwa chuckles. 

Hongjoong rings up Seonghwa’s order again, and then turns to look at Wooyoung, who addresses him with a nod of his head, wordlessly telling him he has his back as he starts on Seonghwa’s drink. 

Since there aren’t any customers waiting or pressing tasks to do, and Seonghwa doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush to sit down, Hongjoong lets himself indulge in the other’s presence for a while. 

“So, what do you do, Seonghwa?” He asks.

Seonghwa blinks at him, tilts his head in confusion, and Hongjoong’s heart hurts it’s so cute.

“Like, where do you work?” 

“I see.” Seonghwa says, “I work here.” 

Hongjoong pauses, unsure what to say, and his eyes hesitantly circle the cafe.

“I mean- I work around here.” Seonghwa hurries to clarify. 

“Oh, nice!” Hongjoong laughs, feeling a little awkward but rolling with it, although he decides to abandon that conversation point, “Do you go to school?” 

Seonghwa shakes his head, “No, I only work.” 

“Yeah, that’s cool though.” Hongjoong’s still getting used to Seonghwa’s formal way of speaking, but he’s just happy to be talking to him.

“Do you go to school?” Seonghwa turns the question back on Hongjoong, who’s thrilled to receive it.

“I do! I’m studying music production.” Hongjoong lets a little bit of pride crawl through his words. 

There’s no comprehension in Seonghwa’s eyes, but he still smiles, nodding, and asks, “What is that like?”

“It’s really amazing. It does get stressful, like right now I have so many projects due soon, but I love doing it, and I want to get a job doing it after I graduate.” Hongjoong’s chest warms at Seonghwa’s genuine interest, that he’s not the only one asking questions and keeping the conversation alive.

“Your passion is beautiful.” Seonghwa states, like it’s a fact, unaware of the butterflies that it makes erupt in Hongjoong’s stomach.

“Thank you.” Hongjoong’s cheeks heat as his lips pull into a bashful smile, suddenly needing to get the spotlight away from him again, “So, I hadn’t ever seen you in before last time, are you new around here?” He cringes at himself, realizing too late that the question could come across as stalker-y. 

Seonghwa doesn’t look phased though as he continues, “Yes, I am new to the area. I came here for work.” 

Hongjoong hums, and only then he sees that Seonghwa’s drink has been sitting on the counter for a while now. Wooyoung, that sneaky little bastard. Seonghwa follows his line of sight, and takes the cue to grab the drink. 

“Thank you.” He smiles, a clear signal, and as sad as Hongjoong is that their conversation has to end, he knows it can’t last forever. Hongjoong smiles back and Seonghwa retreats to the same table he sat at the other day, sipping at his drink. 

Hongjoong doesn’t move from his position at the cash register, and Wooyoung pauses what he’d been doing to stand next to Hongjoong.

“That seemed like it went better.” Wooyoung teases, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Hongjoong huffs, hitting Wooyoung’s shoulder with no force, “Don’t you have a job to be doing or something?” 

Wooyoung laughs, “Says you, Mr. flirts-with-the-cute-customer-all-day.” 

“I do not.” Hongjoong mumbles. 

“Are you good though?” Wooyoung sobers a little, his eyes flicking down to the counter, calling back to the mood Hongjoong had been in before. 

“Yeah, I’ll take over.” Hongjoong feels better now, refreshed, more confident, and he’s positive it has nothing to do with getting to talk to his favorite gorgeous customer again.

Wooyoung nods, and continues on with his earlier duties. Hongjoong helps a couple customers, slipping into the flow of things again. Wooyoung tells him he’s stepping into the back for a minute to do temperature checks and take inventory, and Hongjoong assures him that he’s still okay. He really is grateful for Wooyoung.

In between customers he leans down, grabbing a gulp from the water bottle he keeps stashed below the counter. He hears the ding of the bell, and he puts the polite customer service smile in place on his face. 

But when he stands up straight again and sees the man strutting up to the counter it falls right off, a lump lodging in his throat and chest constricting. Oh god, no . And he doesn’t even have the chance to get Wooyoung to save him.

“Yejun, I asked you not to come here when I’m working anymore.” He tries for a gentle reminder, but his voice is tight. 

“What, no hello for an old friend?” Yejun’s smile is slimy. 

Hongjoong breathes sharply out his nose, sounding almost robotic when he recites, “Hello, Yejun.” 

He thought he got rid of Yejun after the multiple classes they had together over previous semesters. Yejun demanded to sit right next to Hongjoong every class, and Hongjoong couldn’t get through a single lecture without being subject to lewd stares, a litany of suggestive comments, and multiple attempts to get Hongjoong to go on a date with him. 

Turns out his luck isn’t so good afterall. 

“That’s better.” Yejun sneers, “I just had to see you, and you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Although I don’t like what you did to your hair.” 

Hongjoong stares at him, expressionless, “Did you want to order something? Because I have to get back to-”

“Go on a date with me.” 

Hongjoong wonders if he’ll lose his job for smashing his face against the counter. 

“Yejun, I’ve told you so many times-”

“I’ll treat you so much better than some stupid jock, or whatever it is that you think you’re into.” Yejun spits, intensity and impatience bordering on anger swirling in his eyes, “Just go on a date with me.” 

Hongjoong’s words are slow, careful, “I’ve told you before, and the answer is still no. Now please, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I have work to do.” 

“Fine.” Yejun bites, choking on bitterness, “But don’t think this is the last time you’ll see me. I’m not going to give up, and you can’t avoid me forever!” he stomps off, shoving the door out of his way as he leaves to make room for his bruised ego. 

As soon as he’s gone Hongjoong deflates, turning around to lean back against the counter as he blinks tears out of the corners of his eyes. Only now he realizes that his breathing is shallow and his hands are shaking. He tries and mostly fails to get his breathing under control as seconds tick by. 

“Joong, do we have any more- hey, what happened?” Wooyoung, coming out of the back area, sets down what he was holding and runs to Hongjoong’s side. 

“Yejun was here.” Hongjoong’s voice wavers when he speaks.

“What! And I wasn’t here!? I would’ve punched his face in!” Wooyoung’s fists clench, his eyes burning with rage.

Hongjoong tries to laugh, but it comes out trembling.

“Sorry.” Wooyoung loosens himself, “What do you need?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Come on.” Wooyoung leads him into the back, guiding him to sit down in one of the break-area chairs, “Just take a minute, and don’t forget to breathe. In slowly and out slowly. Okay?” 

Hongjoong nods, taking in an unstable but deep breath to show Wooyoung that he will. Satisfied, Wooyoung returns to the counter. 

Hongjoong focuses on his breath, filling his lungs fully, letting it out slowly, and repeating. He wishes he didn’t get this shaken up by Yejun, wishes he were stronger, but there’s nothing he can do about it, helpless against the whims of the adamant man. 

When he’s feeling a little more solid, his breaths coming easier, he stands, running his fingers through his hair and smoothing down his apron. 

He walks back out towards the counter with his head held high, determined not to let that asshole ruin the rest of his shift. And when he sees Seonghwa still sitting there, he feels like a breath of fresh air washes over him, settling his nerves the rest of the way. 

Wooyoung sees him, pausing to look him over. 

“I’m okay now.” Hongjoong tells him.

“You sure?” 

“I’m sure. Thank you.” 

Wooyoung smiles, and Hongjoong falls back in line, helping Wooyoung make drinks. 

They get a small rush, but the two of them go through it with ease, a well oiled machine of friendship and having worked with each other for so long. There’s yet another jingle of the door, and Hongjoong joins Wooyoung to greet them. 

“Yunho! Mingi!” Wooyoung calls, him and Hongjoong both lighting up.

“It’s so good to see you guys!” The two of them beam. 

“You want the usual?” Hongjoong asks. 

“Yeah, thanks!” Yunho and Mingi both answer. 

Hongjoong gets started making the drinks he’s long since memorized, chatting with their friends while he does. 

“How’s your project for Professor Dongho going?” He asks Mingi while Wooyoung and Yunho talk about their dance choreographies. 

Mingi groans, “Oh my god, it’s kind of a disaster .” 

Hongjoong laughs, “I feel that.” 

“Oh please, you’re his favorite student. His star pupil.” Mingi teases. 

“Maybe not after this project.” Hongjoong finishes the two drinks and pops the lids on top. 

“Yeah right.” Mingi chuckles. 

Him and Yunho grab their respective drinks and Wooyoung announces that, “They’re on the house.” 

“Ah you spoil us.” Yunho smiles, while Mingi cheers, “Great, thanks!” 

“We’re still on for dinner next week, right?” Hongjoong asks them. 

“Of course!” Yunho answers. 

They part ways so Hongjoong and Wooyoung can keep working, while Yunho and Mingi go to sit down. 

Hongjoong can see the couple as he works, the conversation never slowing between them. They’re honest to god giggling , looking at each other with the biggest, gooiest hearts in their eyes, leaning towards each other in their chairs, their hands resting on the table so close to touching.

It’s disgustingly sappy.

“When are they going to get their heads out of their asses?” Wooyoung asks, coming to stand next to Hongjoong, watching the same hopelessly lovestruck display as him. 

“Well considering it’s been three years and they still haven’t, at this point, I’m gonna go with never.”  

Wooyoung leans his elbow on the counter and his cheek on his hand, sighing, “But they’re so perfect together.”

Hongjoong nods in sad agreement.

They continue working for a while, the voices of the customers and the machines whirring becoming a comforting white background noise in Hongjoong’s mind. 

That is until Hongjoong hears Mingi’s voice rise a little above all the others, and his head snaps up to look at the pair.

“Yunho, I’m in love with you! I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, but I’ve been in love with you for years!” 

Hongjoong’s jaw falls open, his eyes bugging out of his head. Is this really happening right now?

“Are you kidding me? I feel the same way, I’ve just never known how to tell you!” Yunho laughs like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

They both jump out of their seats, leaping into each other to meet in a crushing, passionate kiss. 

“Hell yeah!” Wooyoung whoops, several other ‘aww’s coming from surrounding customers. Hongjoong notices that Seonghwa is among those watching the heartwarming display. 

Yunho and Mingi lean their foreheads together, breathing heavily with the widest smiles on their faces, still embracing each other. 

“We’re definitely celebrating!” Wooyoung calls, making the new couple laugh. 

Hongjoong can’t stop smiling either, his heart full of love for his friends. He’s still processing that after all these years, watching the two of them flirt and pine and vent to him about how much they want the other, it’s happening right in front of him, right now . 

He couldn’t be happier for them, it’s just one hell of a coincidence.

But he shrugs off the feeling, shares a raised eyebrow, shoulder shrugging smile with Wooyoung, and gets back to work.

February 10th

Today when Seonghwa walks through the cafe’s door, Hongjoong briefly wonders, selfishly, irrationally, if somehow Seonghwa only comes in on days he’s working. He’s not about to ask though. 

“Hello.” Seonghwa greets with a smile, his pretty face glowing.

“Hi!” Hongjoong returns it.

“How has your day been?”

Hongjoong’s smile widens, “Pretty good. I get off early today because I have a late class. How’s yours been?” 

“Quite good. I’ve been occupied, working.” 

Hongjoong’s eyes narrow, his lips still turned up, “Are you ever going to tell me about this mystery job of yours?” 

Seonghwa’s pristine eyebrow raises, “My mystery job?” 

“Yeah, you never told me what it is. I’m curious.” Hongjoong doesn’t want to scare Seonghwa away by prying into his life too much, but Seonghwa still has a playful aura about him, his features open and doe eyes sparkling. 

“It is… hard to explain.”  

“Are you an undercover cop?” Hongjoong leans over the counter, lowering his voice like he’s scandalized, “Are you a private investigator?” he gasps, “Are you a spy !?” 

“Yes.” Seonghwa nods with an intense expression.

“Wait, what!?”

Seonghwa’s face breaks out in a grin, “I was just kidding.” 

“Oh my god!” Hongjoong cackles, “I guess I walked into that one.” 

Seonghwa chuckles, “Actually, I work in somewhat of an HR role.” 

Hongjoong hums, unable to stop his eyes from raking down and back up Seonghwa’s body, “Interesting dress code for HR.” 

Seonghwa looks down at his own outfit, today another pair of loose, silk shorts and a cropped button up.

“Oh, I change first.” Seonghwa laughs, “But I thought - what was it you said - ‘I look amazing?’” he teases, and he smirks , which is just entirely unfair.

Hongjoong’s face bursts bright ruby, and he tries to stammer out some excuse, caught red handed. 

“I apologize.” Seonghwa clears his throat, “I couldn’t help myself.” 

Hongjoong laughs too, even though he can still feel the heat of his blush, “It’s okay, you’re not wrong.” 

Then Seonghwa just looks at him, inquisitively, his head tilting a little. It’s like he can see right through Hongjoong, looking straight at everything he’s hiding.

Hongjoong fidgets, squirming beneath his gaze, spouting the first thing that comes to mind, trying anything to get the attention away from him and his heated face.

“So, did you want your usual?” 

Seonghwa’s head tilts even more. 

“Your coffee?” Hongjoong clarifies. 

“Ah. Right, yes.” Seonghwa shakes his head a little, as if to reset himself. It’s almost like he forgot why one usually comes to a cafe. “I’m honored to be a regular now.” 

“As you should be.” Hongjoong puffs his chest out, “It’s a coveted position, very competitive. There’s a rigorous selection process, interviews, cross examinations, the works, and you made the cut." he tries to keep a very serious face, but he can’t stop the smile that slips onto his lips. 

“Is that right?” Seonghwa raises one of those damned eyebrows again, “And what qualities put me above the other candidates?” 

Seonghwa’s teasing him. Seonghwa’s flirting with him. Seonghwa’s flirting with him ?

Play it cool- play it cool- play it cool.

“Well let’s see,” Hongjoong starts counting the list on his fingers, “you’re polite, you’re patient, you always tip, you never leave a mess at your table when you leave.” Fuck it , his brain decides, “And you’re pretty.” 

This time both of Seonghwa’s perfectly shaped eyebrows raise, “Glad to know I get customer points for prettiness.” 

Hongjoong shrugs, “I don’t make the rules.” 

At that moment Wooyoung walks behind Hongjoong, fake coughing “ othercustomers ” into his fist. 

Hongjoong realizes that there is in fact now a couple walking in behind Seonghwa who will in fact want to be served. 

Hongjoong laughs, a dry sound, but Seonghwa gets the message. He pays for his order and Hongjoong makes it for him quickly, sliding the cup across the counter. Seonghwa gives him a radiant smile in thanks, and when his fingers brush against Hongjoong’s as he takes it, Hongjoong tries to chalk it up to coincidence. He curses the butterflies batting their wings against his stomach regardless though. 

Seonghwa sits down, the couple behind him steps up to the counter, and Hongjoong has to snap himself out of the smitten stupor he’d been floating in. He’s still at his place of work, as Wooyoung had so subtly reminded him. 

This couple, Septum Ring and Buff Arms, is particularly happy. They’re all over each other, hugging or looping their arms around the other’s shoulders or waist, leaning into each other and laughing.

“Hi, Welcome in!” Hongjoong feels like he’s interrupting something, but he presses on, “What can I get for you?” 

“Oh, yeah! Hm, let’s see…” Septum Ring peers up to peruse the menu, still tucked into Buff Arms’ side.

“Ooh, you should try that one,” Buff Arms points at the menu, “I think you’d like it.” 

“Okay, I’ll have that.” Septum Ring erupts in another fit of giggles. 

“Me too.” Buff Arms adds.

Hongjoong recites the total and Buff Arms makes a show out of whipping out their wallet and card to pay. 

“It’s our first date, you know.” Septum Ring tells Hongjoong.

No shit , he thinks, that’ll be one hell of a honeymoon phase.

But he pastes on a look of surprise and says, “Oh, congratulations! I’ll get those drinks made for you!” 

As he works on the order, even above the sounds of steaming milk, whirring machines, and other customers, he can still hear the happy couple laughing and falling over each other. When his back is turned he rolls his eyes, but then his mind helpfully plays Wooyoung’s words back to him. How could you not love love?

He doesn’t want to be the grouchy love hater, and he’s glad when people are happy. He just thinks it’s a little over the top, but he can’t blame young love too much. 

He hands their drinks off to them, shocked to get an absent minded “thank you,” given that their attention doesn’t leave each other for a second. They walk off to sit down and flirt to their heart’s content, and Hongjoong lets out a sigh. 

Him and Wooyoung alternate taking care of customers and cleaning and stocking, sometimes chatting, sometimes working in comfortable silence. Hongjoong lets the sounds and smells of the cafe occupy his mind, brewed coffee beans and flaky dough swirling into a delectable atmosphere. 

His thoughts occasionally veer off into the homework he has waiting for him, what he has to do this week, and the growing pile of laundry he’s been putting off doing for days, but he doesn’t let them linger on any one thing for too long. 

He’s startled out of his half-thinking state by a chair scraping across the tile floor. He looks towards the sound and it’s Buff Arms standing, staring at Septum Ring. Buff Arms’ voice is loud and intense and a little desperate as they speak.

“I’m sorry- I just can’t ignore it anymore. You’re so perfect, and I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Buff Arms gets down on one knee, but having no ring to present, grabs and holds Septum Rings’ hand instead, “Will you marry me?”

Hongjoong’s jaw drops to the floor while Septum Ring hops out of their seat, nodding wildly and crying “Yes!” The two of them embrace, kiss to the background sound of customers clapping for them, and kiss deeper, probably too passionately and messily to be appropriate for a public setting. 

Hongjoong’s left astonished, wondering if that really just happened. They said this was their first date, right?! They definitely said this was their first date. 

Wooyoung appears next to him, huffing out a laugh, “Wow, crazy how that keeps happening, huh?” 

“Really crazy.” Hongjoong’s still watching the couple, distracted, “Don’t you think it’s a little weird?” 

Wooyoung shrugs, “It’s near Valentine’s Day, it’s bound to happen.” 

“Good point.” Hongjoong supposes, although something in his gut wriggles around. 

The excitement dies down, and Hongjoong and Wooyoung get back to work. Every time Hongjoong thinks about what happened he shakes his head in disbelief. People really do crazy things, but best of luck to them. 

He makes a few drinks, wipes down the empty tables and the counter, restocks the low syrups, and then he switches with Wooyoung for his turn at the cash register.

Eventually Wooyoung announces that he’s taking his break, retreating to the break area and leaving Hongjoong to hold down the fort. Everything is par for the course for a little while, until the door swings open with a ding and a rush of cool air, and Hongjoong glances up into the snarling, predatory face of none other than Yejun.

He should call for Wooyoung, or tell Yejun off, or do something, anything, but he freezes. He thought he’d have longer before he had to face him again. 

Yejun opens his mouth to speak, no doubt to barrage Hongjoong with more desperate and forceful pleas to go out with him, but before he gets the chance a jolt runs through his frame, like he was shocked. It rattles his whole body, head turning for just a split second, and Hongjoong would’ve missed it if his eyes hadn’t been glued to the man from the second he walked in. 

Yejun seems to shake off whatever it was, and he raises his head, fiery eyes meeting Hongjoong’s again. But the second they do they widen, and it’s like a floodgate of fear is unleashed into them. 

Yejun takes a step back, then another, stumbling a little.

Hongjoong, at a complete loss for words, lets out a stunned “Um…” 

And then Yejun spins on his heel and flees the building, the bell ringing and glass door banging closed behind him. 

Hongjoong’s left floored, still frozen in place, frazzled and wondering what the hell that was about. He’s not complaining, he’s more than relieved not to have to deal with Yejun’s torment, but it was just so weird. This place is weird lately. 

When Wooyoung comes back Hongjoong doesn’t tell him about Yejun’s reappearance. Partly because Wooyoung would be furious if he found out he missed him again, and partly because he doesn’t even know how to begin explaining what occurred, so he opts to skip it altogether.

Instead, Hongjoong takes a drink of cool water, takes a minute to compose himself, and concludes that he doesn’t feel bad at all. On the contrary, his spirits are soaring as he approaches the home stretch of his shift. 

He tries to make himself busy, but he quickly runs out of tasks to do. He hears his manager’s voice in his head say there’s always something to clean , but he’s not exactly in a hurry to find something to do a deep scrub on. He ends up still with time to go, bored, leaning on the counter and tapping his foot. 

That’s when he sees Seonghwa out of the corner of his eye, still sitting, still sipping on his drink that has to be luke-warm by now. 

“Hey Wooyoung, are you good here?” He looks over at his friend, who is also leaning on the counter, examining his nails, “I’m gonna go wipe down tables.” 

Wooyoung follows Hongjoong’s line of sight that he apparently does a bad job of hiding, and a smirk appears on his face. 

“Oh, yeah definitely, go wipe down those tables.” Wooyoung winks, and Hongjoong groans. 

Ignoring him, Hongjoong grabs a rag and spray bottle and walks around to each unoccupied table, making sure it’s squeaky clean. He saves the table right next to Seonghwa for last and spends extra time on it, because it’s extra dirty, of course.

He makes an albeit weak effort to keep his eyes from wandering towards Seonghwa, peeking over his shoulder, drifting to the side, gravitating towards how perfectly he looks on the chair, like a meticulously sculpted statue. 

He knows he’s caught when Seonghwa’s eyes meet his, no matter how quickly he whips his head away again.

“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa calls.

Hongjoong winces, turning around and trying to act casual, “Hm?” 

“Would you like to sit down for a minute with me, or are you terribly busy?” There’s a smile playing on Seonghwa’s pink lips, his gaze flicking down. 

Hongjoong realizes he’s been barely moving the rag across the same spot for more than a couple minutes now, cleaning the already spotless surface, and his cheeks burn beet red. So much for thinking he’d moved past embarrassing himself in front of Seonghwa. 

“Oh uh, no- I mean no I’m not busy! I’d love to sit, if I’m not bothering you.” 

“You never could.” Seonghwa’s voice is solid, firm even, and Hongjoong’s blush spreads heat across his face and down his chest.

Hongjoong smiles as he takes the empty seat across from Seonghwa, setting the spray bottle and rag in his hands on the floor at his feet and praying that he doesn’t smell like chemicals. He ends up saying the first thing that comes to his mind, as is becoming his habit.

“You saw that proposal a while ago, right? That was crazy.”

“I did.” Seonghwa nods, “They seemed… like a good fit for each other.” 

“That’s an understatement.” Hongjoong laughs, “A match made in Heaven.” he raises his hands towards the sky, exaggerating a deep voice. 

“You think?” Seonghwa tilts his head, looking serious and questioning and adorable. 

“I mean I couldn’t say for sure, but I think their chances are pretty good.” Hongjoong shrugs, chuckling. 

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” Seonghwa asks. 

“Oh,” Hongjoong reels a little bit at the sudden philosophical question, “uhh…” 

“I’m sorry, was that inappropriate to ask?” Seonghwa frowns a little, and Hongjoong wants to wipe it away immediately. 

“No, no!” He’s quick to assure Seonghwa, who relaxes in his chair, “It just surprised me, but I don’t mind answering.” 

He takes a minute to think about his answer, to piece together the fleeting, fragmented thoughts he’s had on the topic throughout his years. He tries not to look too deeply into Seonghwa’s warm chocolate eyes for fear of getting lost. He thinks about the first time they met. 

“I think at first it’s more about intuition and connection than love. It’s about that gut feeling that you get around someone, and all you want to do is keep being near them.”

That small smile is back on Seonghwa’s lips, “So do you believe in love, then?” 

This question stumps Hongjoong even more than the last. It’s one he’s never been asked before. Everyone’s always spoken about love as if it just is , not that it merely could or couldn’t be.

“I’ve never really thought about that.” He admits, “But I believe in the possibility of love. I think sometimes the word is thrown around a little too much, but the potential for love is everywhere.” 

“And then love just… happens?” Seonghwa questions. 

“The spark or connection might be there, but you have to work at it, not just wait for it to happen.”

Seonghwa hums, “I think your thoughts are fascinating.” 

Hongjoong’s cheeks dust with pink. 

“And what about you?” He asks, “What do you think?” 

“I think love is something that lives in the clouds, in rose petals and pupils dilating and in the colors of paintings. Something that humans long to touch but only scratch the surface of.” 

Hongjoong feels his heart pulsing in his ears and his stomach fluttering. Seonghwa’s poetry murmured in his deep, sultry voice did something to Hongjoong that has him squirming in his seat. 

“Well that was way better than my answer.” He laughs, breathless. 

Seonghwa chuckles, “Yes, well, I’ve had much longer to ponder it than you.” 

“Good point.” Hongjoong smiles, still trying to force himself to stop thinking about what else he wants Seonghwa to whisper in his ear with that voice. 

“On less theoretical matters,” Seonghwa continues, “I’ve seen you with your-” he pauses, miming cupping his hands over his ears. 

“My headphones?”

“Yes, headphones. I’ve seen you with them often. What kind of music do you listen to?”

Hongjoong blushes all over again, his stomach swooping at the implication that Seonghwa’s been watching him, paying attention to him and his habits. 

“It kind of depends on my mood, honestly. A little bit of everything I guess, rock, rap, pop, they all have different vibes that I lean more or less towards based on the day.” He cuts himself off before it’s too late and he descends into a full blown ramble about it. “What about you?” 

“I really enjoy classical music.”

“Oh!” Hongjoong nods, “I listen to classical while I do certain parts of my projects. It’s less distracting, helps me think and feel inspired to be creative.” 

“Exactly.” Seonghwa grins, his tone wistful, “My favorite memories have been attending live orchestral concerts.” 

“That sounds amazing. I’ve never been to one.” 

“I would love to take you sometime, if you’d like.” 

Hongjoong wants to squeal, or jump for joy, or shout from the rooftops , but instead he says, “Really? I would love to go!” and he lets only a fraction of his elation bleed into his words.

“It’s a date then.” Seonghwa looks so put together and sophisticated, as neat and beautiful as ever, while those words make Hongjoong feel like he’s falling apart at the seams. 

As he’s trying to come up with some sort of composed response to squeak out, Wooyoung beckons him back over. 

“Sorry, duty calls.” He tells Seonghwa, sighing with regret.

“Of course.” Seonghwa flashes him that heart-liquefying, stomach-butterfly-inducing smile again, which does not help Hongjoong’s difficulty with making himself leave.

And he blames it on Seonghwa’s unique ability to wear his defenses and verbal filter down the longer he’s near him when his mouth blurts “See you soon?” before he can stop it.

Seonghwa couldn’t look more pleased, however, and spares Hongjoong even more embarrassment. 

“Have a good class, Hongjoong.” 

“Thanks!” Hongjoong stands and grabs the spray bottle and rag before returning to the counter.

Wooyoung elbows him in the side with a cocky grin when he gets there, to which Hongjoong shoves him off, the younger cackling. 

Hongjoong helps him get everything cleaned up and miscellaneous tasks finished before his shift ends. Although for once he wishes his shift was longer.

On campus, he feels like he’s walking on air towards his class, weightless and floating. He thinks maybe he should be concerned about how strongly a simple conversation is affecting him, and then he shoves that thought aside. Talking to Seonghwa makes him happy, damnit . 

He manages a respectable 50/50 ratio of paying attention and thinking about Seonghwa throughout his class, which he’s very proud of himself for. 

He leaves the brick building and starts through campus, humming lightly to himself, and thinking about how he’ll listen to some classical music when he gets home. 

But he stops in his tracks when he sees Yejun directly in front of him, walking towards him. Only the other hasn’t noticed him yet. 

Hongjoong’s busy contemplating turning tail and finding some other super roundabout, back roads way to get home when Yejun’s eyes meet his.

Hongjoong braces for the worst, for some explanation of why Yejun acted so weird earlier, probably blaming Hongjoong himself, but none of it ever comes. 

Instead, Yejun once again freezes, stares at Hongjoong, and then takes an abrupt left turn, hurrying through the grass in the opposite direction of Hongjoong. 

He’s completely confused about where this sudden change in the creepy man came from, the idea that something Hongjoong said having finally gotten through to him seems possible but unlikely. 

But it feels so good to finally be the one who doesn’t have to hide or flee. 

He makes his way home feeling free, like he owns campus, like he’s on top of the world. 

February 11th

On Hongjoong’s first day off for his weekend he takes a morning (re: his morning, actually closer to afternoon), walk around campus just because he can .

He spends the rest of the day in his apartment at his desk with his headphones snug on his ears and his laptop perched in front of him with an oversized mug of coffee steaming next to it. He doesn’t stand up for hours, but he achieves a heightened state of productivity that lets him get miraculously caught up on all of his homework and projects. 

He does leave his desk in the evening to shower and get dressed and make himself look casual-presentable. He has dinner with Yeosang and Jongho because he hasn’t seen them in too long, so of course San and Wooyoung tag along, and they invite Yunho and Mingi.

They all have a couple drinks and laugh and congratulate Yunho and Mingi even more on getting their relationship shit together, and Wooyoung has far too much fun pestering Hongjoong, endlessly teasing him about Seonghwa. Hongjoong would never admit it, but when he sees the way Wooyoung and San hold each other throughout the night, the way they clasp hands and kiss and stare into each other’s eyes, so obviously and disgustingly in love, there’s a sharp pang of longing and want that punches a suspiciously Seonghwa-shaped hole in his chest.

But Wooyoung knows , and Wooyoung knows Hongjoong knows he knows, so round and round they go. The worst part is Hongjoong can’t even try to deny anything anymore, so he puts on a pouty face instead and at least doesn’t confirm anything either, which is somehow still encouraging to Wooyoung, that little pest. That intuitive, perceptive, lovable little pest.

Wooyoung tackles him in a big, tight, slightly tipsy hug after dinner, and even while pretending he doesn’t want him to, Hongjoong hugs him back just as tightly. 

It’s late into the night by the time he says a fond goodbye to his friends and walks himself home. Inside his apartment, he eyes his chair and desk and laptop, sitting just as he left them, and wonders if he should push himself to get more work done. 

He then kicks off his shoes, shoves off his coat and pants, flops onto his bed, and falls into a deep sleep with a heavy, happy sigh. 

February 12th

On Hongjoong’s second day off he spends the entire day curled up on his couch with a blanket wrapped tight around his shoulders, a movie playing on the tv, and snacks piled on his coffee table.

He manages to get his growing pile of laundry done in between movies, even getting it all folded or hung up and put away. 

For dinner he makes himself ramen, once again sitting on the couch to slurp up the noodles. As he scrolls through the movies on his various streaming services, there’s one that catches his eye, and he pushes play before he can convince himself not to.

It’s a romcom with a sappy love song intro, a cheesy red and pink title card, and an even cheesier title that appears across the whole screen in bright, loopy, cursive letters: Love Struck . Hongjoong rolls his eyes, but it’s the Valentine’s Day season, and he can only be so resistant to its charms.

By the end of the movie he’s shamefully entrenched in the lives of the main characters and their red-colored, heart-candy-coated world. 

Then there’s the big climax scene, where the two lovers dramatically realize they’re perfect for each other, and fall into each other for the long awaited kiss.

Hongjoong watches their lips lock and all he can think about is Seonghwa. The way his lips look, how full and pretty, the way they’d feel if they pressed against Hongjoong’s the way the characters’ are on the screen.

The characters’ hands on glistening skin become Seonghwa’s, or Hongjoong’s, carding through hair, grasping at napes, pulling at clothes to get them closer for the sloppy kisses that they both refuse to stop indulging in. 

Hongjoong can see himself and Seonghwa in the place of the two on the tv, exploring each other for the first time, gasping.

Hongjoong wants to know what Seonghwa would smell like, what his tongue would taste like against Hongjoong’s, what he would sound like, what his pretty face would look like. The thoughts grip Hongjoong’s mind like a vice until there’s nothing else left.

And as the movie continues to play in the background, he comes to the oddly calm conclusion that he’s completely fucked.

February 13th

Hongjoong walks into work feeling a strange mixture of refreshed and apprehensive. 

The entire world has really ramped up every possible aspect of Valentine’s Day in preparation for tomorrow, and their cafe is no exception. Somehow the decorations that were already up have multiplied since he was here last, like a rapidly reproducing monster. Hongjoong feels like he’s walking through a sea of scarlet plastic and paper cutouts. 

His greeting to Wooyoung is enthusiastically met with, “Joongie hi, you’re here! You’ll never guess what you missed!” 

Hongjoong holds him at bay until he can put his things down and clock in, the two of them going to stand by the counter so they at least look like they’re working.

He faces Wooyoung, leaning against the counter and gesturing for him to continue.

“While you were gone, this group of three came in, and when they were sitting down, one of them suddenly sprung up and confessed their longstanding and undying love to their friend, but it turns out that their spouse was the other person with them !” Wooyoung laughs in disbelief, but Hongjoong is shocked into silence.

“So their spouse started screaming at them and crying in front of everybody, it was a whole huge thing. Can you believe that? Like, who would do that, you know? And why!?” Wooyoung shakes his head.

That word repeats in Hongjoong’s head; why, why, why, and there’s a jittery feeling in his bones that he can’t shake. 

“Wow, that’s crazy.” He agrees, because it is , “Kinda weird that things like that have been happening here so much lately, right?” 

Wooyoung shrugs, “Yeah well, maybe a little, but it’s good for business!” he laughs it off, while Hongjoong’s mind is running a mile a minute. 

“Hey, was Seonghwa here when that happened?” 

Wooyoung pauses for a second, eyes looking up while he thinks, “Yeah actually, he was. I remember him coming in now. He asked about you.” he winks, “But don’t worry, I wouldn’t let anyone else make a move on your man.” 

Hongjoong chuckles, but the sound is weak and distracted, “Right, right, thanks for that.” 

A customer does actually walk in then, and Wooyoung steps up to take their order. Hongjoong’s locked in a tornado of mental puzzle pieces trying to fit themselves together. His brain picks up on two key details: one, that Seonghwa asked about Hongjoong - not necessarily key to the bigger picture, but key to Hongjoong’s poor heart nonetheless - and two, that Seonghwa seems to be emerging as some sort of common denominator, but to what he has no idea. It’s probably nothing anyways, just a coincidence, a product of the season and nothing more. 

However, Hongjoong’s obscure suspicions do nothing to dampen the delight that floods his veins when not too long later he sees Seonghwa walk in the door. Today he has on a baby blue crop top that shows off his toned stomach that Hongjoong’s gaze drifts over. 

Wooyoung not-so-subtly slides out of the way of the cash register so Hongjoong can none-more-subtly take his place. He tries to ignore Seonghwa’s amused smile. 

Seonghwa orders his usual drink, Hongjoong tries desperately not to think about the thoughts regarding the man in front of him that plagued him last night, and the exchange passes for normal. 

Wooyoung slides Hongjoong Seonghwa’s order to let him add the finishing touch of the lid on the cup, and he thinks he definitely succeeds in being nonchalant, the perfect blend of casual and a reasonable level of mild interest as he asks, “So, do you have any big plans for tomorrow?” 

“Hm?” Seonghwa just stares at him, pretty eyes blinking.

“...For Valentine’s Day?” 

“Ah, yes!” Seonghwa nods, and Hongjoong’s heart does not drop like lead into his stomach, “Or rather- no, I don’t.” 

Hongjoong’s heart springs back up to his chest, pumping hope once again. 

“Do you?” Seonghwa adds.

Even though Hongjoong knows that’s just how conversations work, he’d still been praying that Seonghwa wouldn’t ask him that. As much as he wants to convey to Seonghwa that he is very much available, he doesn’t know how to do so without also announcing how pathetic he is at the same time.

He settles on, “Nope, I don’t have any either. Probably just another night with myself and cheap ramen.” he’d meant to go for a joke, but instead his face lights up red because he utterly failed at not seeming pathetic, and his forced laugh comes out more sad than anything.

But Seonghwa is ever merciful, and just smiles gently. They make a little more small talk, discussing Hongjoong’s work and school and random topics before more customers show up and Hongjoong has to do his job.

When Seonghwa goes and sits down, Hongjoong’s heart, shoulders, and dreams fall to the sticky floor. He hadn’t realized it until it didn’t come to fruition, but he’d been holding out hope that Seonghwa might ask him out for Valentine’s Day. He tries not to sulk too much, although his feet drag a little, his customer service voice less chipper than usual.

But he’s a big boy, so he presses on, still smiling at Seonghwa when their eyes meet and welcoming customers cordially.

It doesn’t take long for Wooyoung to waltz his way over to Hongjoong, not waiting to be invited before he’s offering up his two cents. 

“You really should ask him out this time!” He tells Hongjoong, nudging his head in Seonghwa’s direction for emphasis, “He said it himself, he doesn’t have plans.” 

Hongjoong sighs, “Woo, I have to work, you know that.” 

“Okay first of all,” Wooyoung starts, “you’re not working all day . And second of all, you don’t have to, you asked to, and I think you’re the first person in history to specifically ask to work on Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, well I just wanted to give you happy couple people the chance to not work.” Hongjoong bites, although there’s no heat behind it.  

“Which I do really appreciate!” Wooyoung says, “Because San said we can try out this new toy he bought me, and-”

“Ah! So don’t want to hear it!” Hongjoong cuts him off.

“Are you sure? Cause I can tell you all about how he likes to-”

“Wooyoung I swear to god, I will call in sick!”

Wooyoung holds his hands up, “Okay! Okay!” he laughs, relenting. 

Hongjoong can’t help but laugh a little too, “Enjoy your day, just spare me the details.”

“Aye aye, captain!” Wooyoung salutes him and goes practically skipping off again, leaving Hongjoong shaking his head with a smile. 

They start to get a steadily increasing number of customers, an influx of lunch rushers and to-go orders. Hongjoong mans the cash register while Wooyoung takes care of filling orders.

Ever the observer, even while busy, Hongjoong absentmindedly sees two people outside walking towards the door at the same time; Oversized Sweatshirt and Ponytail. Oversized Sweatshirt opens the door with a jangle, holding it for Ponytail to go inside first. Ponytail bows their head with a smile and a “thank you,” getting in line, while Oversized Sweatshirt follows suit, standing behind Ponytail. The interaction is short, unemotional, polite. 

Hongjoong takes more orders, fingers flying across the cash register, reciting total after total, swiping cards and counting change.

But since he’s staring straight down the line in front of him, he notices when Oversized Sweatshirt and Ponytail both jump a little, the smallest fraction of movement at almost the same time. The same jolt runs through their bodies that he saw in Yejun when he’d been here.

Ponytail’s head turns, peering over their shoulder, and their eyes meet Oversized Sweatshirts.’ 

“Oh!” Ponytail cries.

Oversized Sweatshirt calls back, “How could I not see what was right in front of me!?” 

They bound into each other’s arms, limbs intertwining and lips crashing in a passionate kiss that keeps going and going and going.

Okay, what the fuck!? Hongjoong knows those two people were strangers when they walked in here less than five minutes ago, and they barely even spoke a word to each other during that time.

There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Something weird is happening.

He looks at Wooyoung, who just shrugs, amused by the situation, and then, lightbulb flashing in his brain, he whips his head around to look at Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa is watching the couple, but everyone in the cafe is. Hongjoong narrows his eyes, the cogs in his mind whirring and screeching together.

The excitement dies down, Hongjoong and Wooyoung run around until the rush dies down, and the cafe returns to business as usual. 

What follows the rush is a lull, with most of the customers gone and the counter vacant. Seonghwa had stuck around the whole time, but now he stands, throwing his cup away, waving goodbye to Hongjoong, and walking out the door. Hongjoong watches him go.

“Woo, I’m taking my lunch!” He announces.

“Fuck yeah, go get him!” Wooyoung yells back, and then winces, looking around with relief that there are no customers left to apologize to for his language.

Hongjoong doesn’t tell him that he’s certainly not going after Seonghwa for the reason he thinks, letting him assume the best as he steps out the door, the shrill bell dinging in his wake. The February air is cold against his skin, a breeze chilling him and ruffling his clothes, but he’d been in too much of a hurry to remember his coat.

He turns in the direction he’d seen Seonghwa go, walking quickly until he spots the back of the baby blue crop top ahead of him. He keeps his distance, but stays close enough that he doesn’t lose sight of Seonghwa. He weaves between people strolling on the bustling sidewalk, shoppers going in and out of stores lining the street, snippets of conversations zipping past his ears, but he stays laser focused on Seonghwa. He just wants to see where he goes, to either find some clue to the mystery he suspects, or be assuaged once and for all.

The further they get down the street, the less people are buzzing around, leaving the heaviest populated and popular area, and Hongjoong has to hang back more to stay inconspicuous. He sees Seonghwa suddenly make a sharp right turn, heading straight down an alleyway. Hongjoong walks up to the corner and stops, taking a deep breath. He briefly wonders if Seonghwa will accuse him of being a stalker, and if doing this is worth it, but the nagging voice in his head makes a more convincing case that he needs to get answers.

Sucking in another deep breath and holding it in his lungs, he rounds the corner with big, quick strides, marching forward into the alley. 

But there’s nothing.

The alley is a dead end, brick wall miles high on all three sides, nothing but a couple trash cans on either side and some wrappers scattered across the ground, and Seonghwa is nowhere to be seen. Hongjoong takes another couple steps forward, nearing the end of the alley. He knows he would’ve seen if Seonghwa had left again, so where-

“You’re following me.” 

“Jesus christ!” Hongjoong jumps clear out of his skin, whirling around to face Seonghwa, who’s standing there in all of his beautiful, scantily clothed glory. Hongjoong’s hand is clutched to his chest that’s rising and falling quickly, “You scared the shit out of me!” 

“Why are you following me?” Seonghwa asks, his head tilting. 

Hongjoong shrugs, abruptly at a loss for words now that he’s face to face with the situation. He had so many thoughts rushing through his head, but now he struggles to find even one, with Seonghwa’s wide eyes and waiting stare. 

“I just wanted to see where you were going, what you would do.” He realizes retroactively that that sounds very stalker-y. Gold star for Hongjoong.

But Seonghwa just asks again, “Why?”

“I thought it was weird that so many people were falling in love so fast at the cafe.” Hongjoong admits, hoping that Seonghwa won’t call him crazy and call the cops, “And I realized that you were there every time it happened.” 

Seonghwa doesn’t react beyond a small hum, “But you have many regular customers, correct? Any of them could’ve been there on a daily basis as well, so why me?” 

“That’s true, we do.” Hongjoong speaks slowly, thinking, “I don’t really know exactly why, I just got a gut feeling I guess. Something felt… different, about you.” 

Seonghwa just looks at him, like he’s calculating, waiting. 

Hongjoong thinks about trying to backtrack, saying it’s stupid, I’m sorry for following you and I’ll leave you alone now, but then he decides no, he came this far, he might as well keep going.

“So are you? Different?” He presses.

Seonghwa takes a minute, not saying anything, just watching Hongjoong, his eyes soft. Then he takes a step towards Hongjoong, then another, and another, and Hongjoong’s breath hitches. 

Seonghwa’s so close to him, a barely gap in between their chests, Hongjoong can smell his cologne and see every one of Seonghwa’s eyelashes when he peers up at him, heart pounding. 

Seonghwa lifts a hand gently, bringing it towards Hongjoong’s cheek. Hongjoong leans into it, blinking slowly, pulse racing and breaths coming quickly. Seonghwa’s palm is so warm against his skin.

Seonghwa’s looking down at him with so much intensity Hongjoong feels naked while fully clothed in broad daylight. A smile is playing on Seonghwa’s lips. Something… fond, even affectionate? Hongjoong can’t hope, but that look is unmistakable. 

Then Seonghwa lets out a long, loud, defeated sigh.

“Your pretty face.” He breathes, “I can’t resist you.” 

Hongjoong feels like he’s burning alive from the inside with heat, with want, with pure elation. Seonghwa… wants him too? Seonghwa wants him too.

Seonghwa takes a step back, and Hongjoong immediately misses the touch of his hand. 

“I am Eros, God of Love - or what humans have come to know me as, Cupid. ‘Seonghwa’ is what I go by when I’m on Earth.”

Hongjoong’s mind scrambles for a whole different reason than before, trying to wrap around what the hell Seonghwa just said. Out of left field is an understatement. 

“Ha ha.” He croaks, “Very funny, cause it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow. I get it, but I was being serious!”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, “You don’t believe me? You said you thought I was different.”

Hongjoong sputters, an incredulous laugh leaving his lips, “Well yeah, but obviously not a- a god !”

Seonghwa takes another step back, putting more space between him and Hongjoong, and he rolls out his shoulders before looking straight into Hongjoong’s eyes. 

As fast as Hongjoong blinks, the air around Seonghwa shifts, and then there are two huge, white feathered wings extending out from behind him, as long across as Seonghwa is tall. 

“Oh my god!” Hongjoong’s startled backwards, losing his footing and falling onto his ass as he stares in utter awe and bewilderment. 

Seonghwa also now holds in his hand a huge golden, shimmering bow, and a quiver of arrows is strapped around him.

“Just Seonghwa is sufficient.” He has a small amused smile on his face that he seems to be trying and failing to conceal. 

He walks slowly forward again, and Hongjoong inches back just a little bit, breathing heavily, not afraid of Seonghwa, just locked in a state of pure shock.

Seonghwa extends a hand, and Hongjoong doesn’t hesitate to take it, although his own is slightly shaking. 

“This isn’t real.” Hongjoong whispers as Seonghwa helps him stand, his eyes raking up and down the vast expanse of feathers. 

“Here.” Seonghwa places Hongjoong’s hand on his shoulder, the contact lighting off sparks, and then Seonghwa turns in place so his back is facing him, and Hongjoong’s hand slides to his shoulder blade.

Taking Seonghwa’s hint, Hongjoong lets his hand wander, drifting across the smooth quiver first. There are shiny golden arrows and bright silver arrows inside. Then his hand moves to Seonghwa’s wings, where his thoughts have been occupied since they appeared. 

Hongjoong’s fingers ghost over them, discovering how soft the white feathers are, and as he gets a little more bold, he feels how many layers of them there are, how they move when he strokes his hand through them, ruffling a little with his touch, and he’s pretty sure he’s stopped breathing.

He can see how Seonghwa’s shirt ripped around them, where they meet and connect to his skin, no tricks or illusions. It’s real . He lets his hand drop, thoughts racing and body feeling sluggish to catch up.  

Seonghwa turns back around, his eyes searching Hongjoong’s face for something.

He says, “I know you suspected me of something, which is why you followed me. This is the truth, and the answer you were searching for.” 

“I just, I- I don’t even know what to say.”

Seonghwa cups Hongjoong’s cheek with his hand again like before, still just as gentle and warm, guiding Hongjoong to look at him. 

He still looks like Seonghwa, the Seonghwa Hongjoong’s gotten to know, the same beautiful Seonghwa, only now with giant wings behind him and apparently another name, a god’s name.

“You say anything you would’ve said to Seonghwa.” He tells Hongjoong, and then lets his hand fall back to his side.

“But you’re- you’re Cupid, you’re the Cupid!” Hongjoong’s only now grasping that idea, “The God of Love. You make people fall in love?” 

“Here, come here.” Seonghwa takes Hongjoong’s hand in his and leads him out of the alley. It isn’t until they’re sitting on a nearby bench that he realizes Seonghwa’s wings, bow, and arrows are gone once again. 

“I’m assuming you have questions.” Seonghwa says, “Ask away.” 

He doesn’t let go of Hongjoong’s hand, and Hongjoong doesn’t let go of his either, grateful for the grounding contact and the electricity he feels anytime he touches Seonghwa. 

“So… you’re the reason all of those people have been falling in love randomly at the cafe?” He starts. 

Seonghwa speaks confidently, clearly, no judgment or teasing in his voice, “It’s less random, more premeditated by the gods based on a variety of calculated factors, but yes. I am the one who sets the ball in motion, so to speak, like I did with your friends for example.” 

“Ah, okay.” Hongjoong nods, processing, “Do you actually like-” he crudely acts out shooting an arrow with a bow, “do that whole thing?” 

This time Seonghwa does chuckle, “In a sense, yes. I use my arrows, although the process is imperceptible to the human eye.” 

“And you’re not a baby wearing a diaper.” Hongjoong deadpans.

“No, that is a misconstruction that’s evolved over many centuries of human speculation and commercialism.” Seonghwa looks amused by Hongjoong, his eyes sparkling, but there’s still that look of fondness alongside it too. Hongjoong never wants Seonghwa to stop looking at him like that.

“But wait-” Hongjoong pipes up, the thought popping into his head suddenly, “are you the reason that Yejun wouldn’t leave me alone? He was so obsessed with me, it had to have been your magic or whatever.” 

Seonghwa sobers somewhat, “That was entirely him. I wouldn’t allow my arrow’s effects to be used on someone pursuing another person who’s so blatantly not receptive to their advances.” 

“Oh, well that’s good, I guess.” Hongjoong’s glad Seonghwa wouldn’t do that to him, or to anyone, which means it was just Yejun being creepy. Still doesn’t explain why he was so infatuated with him, though. 

“However, I am the reason that he started avoiding you.” Seonghwa adds.

“Huh?” 

“You saw my arrows, that I have two different kinds?” 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“I have arrows of desire, the golden ones, but I don’t only have those. The silver arrows are leaden, and are used to cause aversion. Somehow that part often gets left out in the human mythology of me.” 

“Wait, really?” Hongjoong tries his best to take in all of this information at once.

Seonghwa nods, giving Hongjoong time to think through it.

“Wow…” Is all he can say at first, “I didn’t even know that was a thing. But thank you, really.”

“You never deserve to have to put up with anyone who makes you uncomfortable or doesn’t respect your boundaries.” Seonghwa’s words are so full of intensity and passion it catches Hongjoong off guard, but it also makes his heart feel full to bursting and makes him wonder if Seonghwa could get any more perfect. 

“I really appreciate that.” He tells Seonghwa, smiling widely. 

“That being said, he has good taste, and I can’t disagree with what he said when he first came into the cafe.” Seonghwa adds, and continues before Hongjoong can remember what he’s referring to, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” 

Hongjoong blushes, deep and hot in his face and chest, his body on fire. How could Seonghwa possibly say that about him when he looks like that ?

His mind gives him yet another sudden and frantic thought, “So that means it must be your fault that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all the time!”

Seonghwa pauses, his lips pulling into a wide smile, his round eyes swimming with light, “I have never used or attempted to use my arrows on you.” 

Shit . Hongjoong’s blush roars back up tenfold, engulfing his entire body. He feels like he’s in an oven despite the February chill. He did not think that through before speaking, and how he’s gone and blurted his feelings to Seonghwa, to a god , who’s perfect and gorgeous and kind, and he surely sees Hongjoong as a pathetic little lovestruck human who-

“I haven’t done so because I would never use my influence on anyone I was personally and romantically interested in.” 

Hongjoong’s rambling thoughts come to a screeching halt, leading to dead silence in his head. What did Seonghwa say? Romantically interested in him ? 

“I’m sleeping and this is all a dream. Or I’m dead and this is heaven.” He says. He feels dazed, and those are the only possible explanations. 

Seonghwa chuckles, the sound so sweet against Hongjoong’s ears, like the smoothest coffee, and-

“Oh shit!” He yanks out his phone to check the time, “ Shit - I really have to get back, I left Wooyoung by himself for so long.” 

He looks at Seonghwa and frowns, his heart kicking him through his ribcage. The man of his dreams (who just happens to be literally sculpted by the actual gods), is sitting here looking at him like that and telling him he’s romantically interested in him , and he has to go ? He might as well drop dead of instant regret. 

“Are you going back to the cafe too?” He tries, letting some hope slip through. 

Seonghwa shakes his head, “My duties are done for today, and there’s something I have to go take care of.” 

“Oh, okay, yeah.” Hongjoong kicks himself some more. Of course a god would have more important things to do. “I guess I’ll see you around then?” 

Seonghwa gives him the prettiest, most gentle smile, and Hongjoong melts on the spot. But then Seonghwa’s walking closer to him, standing just in front of him, and Hongjoong’s heart leaps clear out of his chest. Seonghwa’s leaning in, so close- Hongjoong’s eyelids flutter- and Seonghwa’s lips land above where Hongjoong craves them, pressing to his forehead. It makes him feel like complete mush, no chance of ever being put back together again.

Seonghwa pulls back and says, “Yes, you will.” 

Hongjoong can’t stop smiling, hoping he doesn’t look as much like a love-drunk idiot as he feels, but he guesses it doesn’t even matter anymore, because Seonghwa’s interested in him too, and that thought makes him feel like he could fly. 

That smile doesn’t leave his face the entire time he walks back to the cafe. He couldn’t get it to even if he tried. Even though his mind is still thinking whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck about all of the events that just occurred.

When he walks back in the door and behind the counter, getting himself ready to work again, he can feel Wooyoung’s eyes on him.

“I see you smiling!” Wooyoung cheers as Hongjoong approaches the cash register, “I love to see that smile, it means good news, right!?”

“I guess you could call it that.” Hongjoong looks down, feeling bashful, but he can’t deny that the smile is still there and going strong, “I’m sorry I left you for so long though.” 

“I’ve had a handle on it.” Wooyoung assures him, still working through orders, although Hongjoong can see the lineup of customers that’s accumulated while he was gone.

“Well thank you.” Hongjoong says, “I guess you were right, this time .”

He immediately regrets admitting it when Wooyoung positively beams, “I’m never letting you forget that.” he tells Hongjoong, “And I want every single detail later!” 

Hongjoong jumps right in to helping Wooyoung with customers and orders, agreeing to his demand, while not mentioning that there are just a few details he’ll have to leave out.

He’s still processing what happened, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like he’s currently got to be the single happiest man on the planet. 

Besides Wooyoung maybe. But no one is happier than Wooyoung.

February 14th

Hongjoong’s in complete denial as he gets ready for work. 

He wears skinny jeans and a soft red and white sweater. He puts makeup on, brushes a dusty red over his eyelids, and styles his hair. He’s getting dolled up . But he keeps telling himself it’s for no reason. Because he’s in denial.

Maybe what he thought happened yesterday didn’t actually happen and he made it all up in his head. Just one big pining fantasy. He wouldn’t put it past himself.

When he gets to the cafe, the abundance of red and pink decorations greet him with a little more cheer than usual. He smiles as he says hi to Jiwoo, who’s taking Wooyoung’s place for the day, and she smiles and waves back. Hongjoong likes her, the two of them make light, casual small talk whenever they work together, never diving into any topics deep or personal. She’s very polite, a little shy, and really sweet. 

As Hongjoong works through the morning, he keeps his eyes peeled, his heart light. He does his best to hide how impatient he is to see a flash of too much skin for February and pretty boba eyes.

But as the hours drag on, there’s no sight of Seonghwa. Today’s Valentine’s Day , shouldn’t he be doing his ‘work’ here today of all days? He told Hongjoong he would see him. Not explicitly when, but still . 

Hongjoong tries not to let disappointment seep through his skin and into his veins, but the later it gets the more he fails. He thought he might’ve finally had a Valentine after years of being alone, after what Seonghwa said to him yesterday. Not to mention how much he got used to and appreciated his conversations with Seonghwa when he came in, how much he liked having his company.

All day couples come into the cafe, drooling over each other, sickeningly happy and in love and loud about it. And every time another sappy couple walks away after leaving him with an overly cheerful ‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’ his mood plummets even more.

Part way through his shift an older lady comes up to the register alone, and Hongjoong fakes his way through his as-friendly-as-possible customer service introduction. The lady then snaps at him that “boys shouldn’t be wearing makeup,” and “why did you make me wait so long to take my order?” 

Hongjoong apologizes for something he didn’t do, and the lady orders her drink with curt words and harsh stares, not a single pleasantry or thank you to be seen. When she receives her coffee (that Hongjoong didn’t make), she yells at Hongjoong for ruining her drink and her day and demands a refund.

Hongjoong wonders if she’s just bitter and alone on Valentine’s Day too. He gets it , he thinks to himself, but come on lady, don’t take it out on me . 

After that interaction, Hongjoong feels exhausted and sad and weighed down by disappointment. It’s his own fault, he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. He knew it was too good to be true, that Seonghwa was too good to be true, and he could never be that deserving.

As much as he likes Jiwoo and thinks she’s nice, they’re distanced co-workers and nothing more. Which means that he now doesn’t have Seonghwa or Wooyoung to cheer him up, and there’s no way he’s about to interrupt his friend’s Valentine’s Day with his boyfriend to burden him with his sob story. 

When they’re closing for the evening, a little earlier than normal because of the holiday, Hongjoong thinks that at least now instead of having to paint on a smile for all of the happy couples and mean old ladies, he can go home and be sad by himself with mountains of chocolate and ice cream. 

He starts walking towards the store to buy exactly that, only glaring a little bit at all of the love decorations he passes. The evening is starting to come alive with music and lights and laughter and the smells of food, but Hongjoong just slumps his way through it all.

But then he hears the whooshing sounds of air behind him, his hair blowing ever so slightly, and his eyes snap up from where they’d been on the concrete, his feet freezing.

He turns around slowly, telling himself on repeat that it was just the wind.

But Seonghwa’s standing directly behind him, donned in deep, silk red that’s stunning against his tan skin, and he’s holding a bouquet of a dozen roses in one hand and a pink heart shaped box of chocolates in the other.

“You’re here.” Hongjoong says. 

Seonghwa’s eyes are glued to him, unwavering. “You look… exquisite, Hongjoong.” 

“Thank you.” Hongjoong blushes, wondering if he’ll ever stop feeling so damn warm in Seonghwa’s presence, “And you- you look…” 

His eyes sweep down Seonghwa’s long, lithe body and back up, getting caught on every dip of muscle and stretch of visible skin. 

Seonghwa smiles, “Thank you, Hongjoong.” 

Hongjoong grimaces inwardly at himself. He can’t even get a compliment out, even when Seonghwa deserves the most endless supply of them. 

“What are those for?” Hongjoong gestures to the things in Seonghwa’s hands, letting his curiosity get the better of him while also taking the opportunity to change the subject.

“As I understand, these are things you give to someone you’re interested in today, to show your affection.”

Hongjoong doesn’t say anything for a minute, waits for Seonghwa to laugh in his face or fly off again to give them to another god or someone they’re actually intended for, but he doesn’t do any of those things.

“For me?” Hongjoong asks. 

“Of course.” Seonghwa holds them out towards Hongjoong. He says it like it should be obvious. Of course it’s Hongjoong . 

Hongjoong takes the flowers and the chocolate, feeling giddy and elated and every word that means he feels like he could jump higher than the buildings around him with happiness. 

He ducks his head to press his nose into the soft rose petals, breathing deeply and inhaling their sweet scent. 

He looks back at Seonghwa, the smile on his lips a little wobbly, “Thank you, Seonghwa.” 

“Would you have dinner with me?” Seonghwa asks, and Hongjoong thinks he must’ve made someone important very happy in a previous life. 

“I would love nothing more.” He smiles, and Seonghwa’s answering smile is pure radiance. “Where are we going to go?” He asks, “Did you use your magical Cupid powers to get us a reservation somewhere really fancy?”

He’s only teasing, but Seonghwa’s eyes sparkle with mischief as he says, “Something like that.” and Hongjoong is thoroughly interested. 

Although in all honesty Seonghwa could take him to dinner in a cardboard box and he would still feel like the luckiest man on the planet. 

Seonghwa looks into Hongjoong’s eyes, holds out his pretty hand with slender fingers, “Do you trust me?”

“I barely know you.” Hongjoong points out, pausing, “But yes.”

He takes Seonghwa’s hand, letting out a small yelp when Seonghwa pulls him into him, looping an arm beneath his legs and around his back to pick him up.

“Hold onto me.” Seonghwa tells him. 

“Uh, where are we going?” 

Seonghwa smiles, and Hongjoong sees his wings appear behind him again, briefly wondering if there’s anyone else around to see them. 

But that thought vanishes, because Seonghwa leaps off the ground, Hongjoong’s stomach lurching, wind whipping by his ears, tugging at his clothes and hair, his eyes squeezed shut. When he tries to peek them open he nearly screams. All he sees are tiny specks of land below and clouds around them.

He tucks his face into Seonghwa’s neck, his arms around him in a death grip. He focuses on the feeling of being pressed against Seonghwa’s firm chest, his strong arms holding him close, the smell of his skin that gets carried away by the breeze.

There’s one more big gust of wind before they’re not moving anymore, Hongjoong’s head spinning a little with the sudden stop. 

Hongjoong opens his eyes and gasps, while Seonghwa sets him down on unsteady legs.

They’re standing on grass, on a cliffside, not a single building or other human in sight. The cliff hangs over the ocean crashing below, the air is warm, and the sun is setting straight ahead in a bright burst of orange and yellow. 

Hongjoong is certain it couldn’t get any more perfect, until he looks down. Set in the thick, vibrant green grass is a huge blanket, with candles and roses and plates of food and desserts spread across it. 

“Seonghwa-” Hongjoong breathes, mesmerized by how amazing the scene is, like it’s straight out of a painting, “This is so beautiful! You did this- for me?” 

“I hoped you might like it.” Seonghwa says, like it’s not the most amazing and romantic thing anyone’s ever done for Hongjoong. 

They walk to the blanket, sitting down and getting settled. The grass beneath them acts as a plush, comfortable cushion. 

Hongjoong doesn’t know where to start with the feast in front of him, but first he turns to Seonghwa. 

“Is this where you take all the humans you seduce with your gorgeousness?” He doesn’t mean to make his insecurities so obvious, but his curiosity and doubt are too strong to resist.

“I’ve actually only ever come here alone before.” Seonghwa says, looking out at the horizon, “I’ve never had much interest in humans outside of my work before. Until you.” 

“Really?” Hongjoong looks around at everything Seonghwa did for him, “I can’t tell you how much I love it. Thank you for trusting me with it.” 

“Happy Valentine’s Day Hongjoong.” Seonghwa tells him. 

Hongjoong can’t dissect the fact it’s Cupid himself saying it to him because it’ll make his brain hurt, so he instead thinks about how warm the words make him feel. He smiles at Seonghwa, and he can feel how mushy his expression is, he just doesn’t care.

“Are you hungry?” Seonghwa asks. 

“Starving.” Hongjoong’s stomach has been rumbling for hours, only snacks having been given to it throughout his day spent moping. 

Seonghwa gestures with his hand towards the large spread of delicious looking and smelling food, and Hongjoong wastes no time accepting his invitation, diving in and piling a plate high. 

As he eats, he realizes that Seonghwa hasn’t moved, just sitting and watching him with a fond smile.

“You don’t eat?” Hongjoong hadn’t even considered the possibility. 

“I don’t biologically need to, but I can.” Seonghwa shrugs, “Aside from the coffee I get at your cafe to avoid suspicion, I haven’t tried any human food. I’ve never had a reason to.” 

Hongjoong only takes a single beat to think about it before he asks, “Do you want to?” 

Seonghwa looks at all of the food like he’s seeing it for the first time. 

“It could be fun.” He concludes. 

Hongjoong chooses one of his personal favorites, pinching one of the intricately decorative chocolate covered strawberries and bringing it up. Seonghwa parts his lips, but his eyes stay on Hongjoong’s, making his heart pound. 

Hongjoong feeds the strawberry to Seonghwa, watching his lips wrap around it, melting the delicate chocolate. Seonghwa’s eyes blow wide, a low, pleased groan rumbling in his chest. 

“I knew humans have made some inventive discoveries,” Seonghwa licks his full, pink lips while Hongjoong lowers the strawberry stem, “but I never expected them to be that good.” 

Hongjoong feels high on showing Seonghwa something new that he enjoys, and wanting to do whatever it takes to make him make that sound again.

“Do you want to try some more?” 

Hongjoong spends the rest of their dinner offering every type of food available to Seonghwa, while Seonghwa urges Hongjoong to take his fill for himself. The sunset is beyond striking, bathing the entire cliffside in warmth and color, but Hongjoong’s eyes are glued to Seonghwa.

He can’t get enough of seeing Seonghwa’s reactions to the new flavors. Some of them he doesn’t love, but most of them make him light up, smiling and humming and open to more. Hongjoong also indulges in the array and variety of dishes, everything like it was handpicked from the most popular and delicious Valentine’s Day foods possible. 

He discovers that Seonghwa favors the fruits and chocolates and cakes. Everything as sweet as he is.

Once the sun finishes its descent, their picnic is blanketed in darkness, but the candles keep the warm light, a flickering golden glow surrounding them. Hongjoong feels so full, more satisfied than he can remember ever feeling. He lays down on his back, his body heavy and happy. 

Seonghwa lays down next to him, leaving a gap in between them. Hongjoong shuffles closer to him until their knuckles brush, finding no reason not to.

Hongjoong turns his head to face the sky, and when his eyes look up he lets out a sharp gasp.

The stars are so bright and so close Hongjoong feels like he could reach out and touch them, just grab one and tuck it away in his pocket if he wanted. There are thousands of them, shining across the whole sky. 

“Oh my god.” Hongjoong whispers, no breath left in his lungs. 

And then his head falls to the side towards Seonghwa, who’s already looking back at him, and Hongjoong can see every single star sparkling in those round eyes. 

“I don’t know how to thank you for tonight.” Hongjoong says.

“You don’t need to thank me. All I want is to see you happy.” Seonghwa tells him, “You deserve to be spoiled like this every single day.” 

Hongjoong closes the gap between them and presses his lips against Seonghwa’s. There’s no possible way Seonghwa could lay there looking like that , looking at Hongjoong like that , and not be kissed.

Hongjoong disintegrates body and mind, nothing remaining but heat and how soft Seonghwa’s lips are.

Seonghwa surges closer, kisses Hongjoong deeper, their heads tilting and mouths opening to feel the slide of their lips and the touch of their tongues. Seonghwa tastes like strawberries and sugar and Hongjoong isn’t sure he knows his own name anymore. Nothing matters but kissing Seonghwa and never stopping. 

When they finally part, Hongjoong’s grinning ear to ear, his heart racing with euphoria, and Seonghwa’s smiling just as widely. 

Hongjoong moves even closer to Seonghwa, leaning his head on his shoulder and grabbing his hand between them, intertwining their fingers. Seonghwa leans into Hongjoong too, making sure there are no gaps left in the lines of their body pressed together. 

They both watch the sky, Hongjoong listening to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat and talking about anything and everything that comes to his mind. The waves are crashing softly against the shore at the bottom of the cliff, a soft breeze is blowing, and Hongjoong imagines brushing his fingertips against the stars. 

He feels like nothing could be more perfect than this moment. 

Except when he looks at Seonghwa once more, Seonghwa turns his head to look back, their eyes meeting, and Seonghwa captures his lips again, just as eager for it as Hongjoong feels.

They kiss lazily in between conversations, punctuating nearly every sentence with it because neither of them can seem to get enough. It’s pure bliss.

But as Hongjoong breathes in the warm air of wherever they are, he can’t keep some nerves from twisting in his stomach. 

“Tonight has been perfect.” He tells Seonghwa, because he wants him to know how much it really has, “But what happens after tonight?”

He can’t avoid the question forever, and as much as he dreads the answer, he has to know. He doesn’t have any idea what time it is, his phone long forgotten, but he’ll have to return to reality eventually, and Seonghwa isn’t human. Hongjoong doesn’t know if he can return to human reality with him.

Seonghwa shifts, sitting up to look at Hongjoong, who does the same, so they’re cross-legged and facing each other, although neither of them go very far apart.

“What do you want to happen?” Seonghwa asks.

Hongjoong doesn’t need long at all to consider his answer, and he goes with the honest approach, figuring it’s now or never, and he might not ever see Seonghwa again anyways.

“I don’t know exactly, I just… I really like you, and I want to keep seeing you. But I know that’s probably not possible, and I understand if you have more important things to do than-”

“Hongjoong.” Seonghwa cuts him off with a gentle voice and gentle eyes, “I’ve already been looking into options for staying on Earth, granted you want this as much as I do.” 

“God, yes.” Hongjoong’s quick to say, “I really do.” 

“Well then good.” Seonghwa smiles, “Because I’ve got confirmation that aside from my occasional duties, I am free to do and live where I wish.” 

“You got confirmation?” Hongjoong lets out a small chuckle, “I still can’t believe you just casually go and talk to gods.” 

“And still none whose company I enjoy as much as yours.” 

Hongjoong doesn’t know how he’s expected to ever stop kissing Seonghwa as long as he keeps saying things like that that make his heart skip so many beats and his breath catch in his throat. Seonghwa’s lips are more addicting than all of the sugar in the world.

Hongjoong tangles his fingers in Seonghwa’s silky hair, throwing his head back while Seonghwa kisses down his neck, thick lips ablaze. 

They stay there long into the night, curled and tangled up together, getting to know each other, body and mind. It’s Hongjoong’s own piece of paradise that he never wants to leave, but all that matters is that even after he does, he’ll still have Seonghwa. His Seonghwa, Cupid, Eros.

And when he gets back to work, he’ll have the best possible news to tell Wooyoung, who Hongjoong’s certain will be just as happy for him as he is for himself, which is saying something. He thinks about what it’ll be like to introduce Seonghwa to his friends, to have him over to his apartment, and then he has to cut off his train of thought.

Not because he doesn’t want those things, in fact he’s beyond excited for them, but for now he just wants to be here, in his paradise. 

He wants to take in every sweet lingering taste on his tongue, and the way Seonghwa’s lips feel on his because he can turn and kiss him whenever the urge bubbles up. He wants to savor the splashing ocean and the grass and the candles’ flames. 

Everything Seonghwa did for him, without magic, (arrows- at least), and as much as the thought of him being Cupid, being a god, is still slightly terrifying and confusing, Hongjoong knows he’s still just Seonghwa, who wants Hongjoong as much as Hongjoong wants him. 

He lays his head on Seonghwa’s chest to look at the constellations of stars above them, thinking that love can’t be far down the road, and that this is without a doubt the best Valentine’s Day of his entire life.