Constant, Stable; (1/2); for sunsethue
Title: Constant, Stable
For: sunsethue
By: ANONYMOUS
Word count: 15,342
Warnings: None
Rating: NC-17
Summary: People change but Baekhyun hasn't. He's always been beautiful, but Jongin's only just started to notice.
“Do you have any recommendations?” Jongin is sure the customer continues talking, but there's a foot on his counter and he's trying his Very Best not to scream, cry and throw up. In that order. Jongin sees a lot of disgusting things, working in a pharmacy, but the surprising amount of regular customers coming in with toenail fungus has to be at the top of the list.
“Well?” The woman continues, wiggling her toes in Jongin’s direction. He can hear the pharmacists laughing from the dispensary. Sehun, the other pharmacy intern that works with Jongin, snickers quietly as he scurries past, armed with medication for his own customer.
Jongin tries not to look at her feet. The fungal infection has caused swelling, a disgusting buildup of yellow gunk to form on top of the nail. The skin around the edges is purple and most likely filled with pus. Jongin wants to scream, cry and throw up. Again, in that order.
“Here,” Jongin hands the customer the strongest antifungal formula they stock, gesturing for her to take her foot off the counter, and progress to the register, “If this doesn't work, you'll need to see a podiatrist.”
“What do you mean if ,” The woman, probably in her mid forties, looks downright livid. A lot of people come into Jongin’s workplace seeking and instant cure, and when told that it may take time--- or in this case, the consultation of a specialist--- they tend to get a little angry.
“You have a severe infection, ma’am,” Jongin has his best customer service voice on, “You may need some sort of extraction.”
“You can't do that here?” Inhale. Exhale. Don't sass the customers.
“This is a pharmacy,” Jongin deadpans, “All we can do is supply medication.”
The woman continues to grumble as Jongin processes her purchase. Jongin continues with his calming breathing techniques even as she hobbles from the store, movements hindered by the fungal buildup on her toenails.
Finally, she leaves, and Jongin is able to release the full bodied shudder he's been holding in since she first placed her rotting feet onto the counter.
“That was gross,” Sehun comments, moments after handing one of their regular customers her blood pressure medication, “But it was hilarious.”
“You're gross,” Jongin retorts, already reaching for the disinfectant spray and roll of paper towels. He pauses, and decides that maybe a pair of disposable gloves might be useful, too. Can't be too careful.
“You have a foot phobia, yet everyone comes to you with their foot fungus,” Sehun doesn't help Jongin disinfect the bench. He just stands, watching, and laughing quietly to himself, “Apparently you give out a vibe that says I love feet, please show me your toenails.”
Jongin tries not to scream.
“Stop mocking other people's pain,” Junmyeon, the head pharmacist, says from behind the dispensary wall. He's too short to see over it, but he's got this kind of creepy, supersonic hearing that allows him to hear, rather than see, when the staff aren't working.
“But it's so much fun,” Sehun whines. Jongin can hear the pout in his voice.
“You know what else is fun?” Junmyeon says, wall still obscuring his face. Judging by his tone, the pharmacist is wearing a smug grin, and whatever he's about to say probably won't bode well for Sehun, “Sorting scripts.”
Sehun groans out loud, and it's Jongin’s turn to laugh. He inhales a fair amount of disinfectant spray but whatever, it's worth it. Sehun hates sorting scripts as much as Jongin hates feet. It's not revenge but it sorta feels like it, so Jongin feels accomplished none the less.
“I keep shitting myself,” Jongin hasn't finished scrubbing the counter before the next customer arrives, an elderly man who speaks gruffly, staring pointedly at Jongin, “What can you do for me?”
Jongin sighs, abandoning his cleaning in order to help the new customer.
All in all, it's just another day in pharmacy.
------
Jongin receives a staff discount at his work, but they don't stock his favourite brand of body wash, so he has to shop elsewhere for his body cleansing needs.
After the events of the day--- toenail fungus, incontinence, a small child throwing up on the carpet--- Jongin is overwhelmed with the need to take an hour long shower and metaphorically scrub the events of the day from his skin.
There's only one bottle of his preferred body wash left, a minty gel that fills the shower with a delightful, calming scent. He takes it promptly, adding it to his basket, already filled the brim with snacks and comfort food.
“You get me hooked on that shit, then take the last one,” Someone says from behind him, “Rude.”
Byun Baekhyun stands behind him, eyebrow raised and grinning widely. Honestly, Jongin never thought he'd see that expression, nor the man attached to it, ever again.
“Hey,” Jongin croaks. It's such a nostalgia trip, seeing Baekhyun like this, talking so casually with him. They were friends, once upon a time. But things happened and contact was lost, old friendships lost along the path to adulthood, “Long time no see.”
“No kidding,” Baekhyun just shrugs, nonchalant as always. He takes another bottle of body wash from the shelf, this one flavoured with pomegranate and raspberry, and adds it to his own basket, “Never thought I'd see you again, to be honest.”
Most people don't know that World War III was fought not on a remote battlefield, but in a small inner city apartment. Chanyeol, Jongin’s best friend of countless years, endured quite the messy breakup. Things were thrown, harsh words were said, and five years later Jongin still doesn't know what caused it. All he knows is that Chanyeol flinches whenever someone says a word that rhymes with either ‘Kyung’ or ‘Soo’, and that their conjoined friend group split as the couple did.
Baekhyun, as Kyungsoo’s best friend, understandably took Kyungsoo’s side on the breakup. Jongin hasn’t seen, nor heard from him in years.
“You're looking good,” Jongin doesn't quite know what to say, personal jokes of old dying on his tongue. They're practically strangers, now, so their old banter feels foreign, wrong. He's not lying, though. Baekhyun’s always had this kind of glow about him; a warmth and air of friendliness that draws people in. He's a lot like Chanyeol in that way, the sort of person you'll meet once and instantly become friends with.
Out of all of Kyungsoo’s friends, Baekhyun was by far his favourite.
“You look,” Baekhyun pauses thoughtfully, taking time to choose his words, “Tired. You look tired.”
“I'm working a lot,” Jongin gestures to the stark white of his pharmacy uniform. Sometimes it makes him feel important, wearing something so obviously medical. But other times it just reminds him of his job, and how much of a burden it can be, “Long hours, you know.”
Baekhyun just hums in reply. He's that sort of person; always humming, using various sounds and non-verbal tics to portray emotion. He procures a business card out of seemingly nowhere, and hands it to Jongin with a bright grin.
“I'm running a spa at the moment,” Baekhyun was studying beauty therapy, back when he and Jongin were close. It's no surprise to see that he's made it so far in such little time; Baekhyun is nothing if not ambitious, “If you need relaxation day, just give me a call.”
“Sure,” Jongin replies, but he has no real intention of taking Baekhyun up on his offer. He regularly works six day weeks, and his rare moments of spare time are spent as horizontal and unconscious as physically possible.
“I know that tone,” Baekhyun chides, “You’re not going to visit me at work, are you?”
“You got me,” Jongin runs a hand through the back of his hair sheepishly, a habit he picked up during high school, where he and Chanyeol spent more time watching anime than either of them are willing to admit, “I'm too dead after work for anything other than sleep.”
“Give me your number,” Baekhyun holds his phone out expectantly, “I'll keep texting you until you do.”
Jongin laughs, but takes the offered phone wordlessly. He watches as Baekhyun saves his details, adding a cute heart at the end of his name before finalizing the new contact. It spurs another sudden rush of nostalgia; back when they were friends, Baekhyun made sure there were hearts beside the names of his closest friends as they were listed in his contacts.
Lives change, people change, but there's always an undercurrent of familiarity; no matter who Baekhyun has become, there are still things so quintessentially him that remain the same. Hearts beside contact details, using the same brand of body wash as Jongin because back in the day, he liked the way Jongin smelt. It's all too much.
“When was the last time you exfoliated?” There are hands on his face, Baekhyun inspecting his skin under the harsh lights of the supermarket, eyes trained on the imperfections marring Jongin’s cheeks and jawline, the dullness of his skin.
“When did Chanyeol and Kyungsoo break up?” Baekhyun’s influence includes a lot of things, and adopting a proper skincare routine is one of them. After their loss of contact, Jongin abandoned his regime, no longer fearing Baekhyun’s retribution over a skipped toner or drugstore cleanser purchase.
Baekhyun tsks disapprovingly. The grease from Jongin’s T-Zone accumulates on his fingers, and he wipes it away on his pants with a disgusted curl of his lips.
“Yeah, you definitely need to come see me at work,” He says, “You're in dire need of a facial.”
An inappropriate retort lies on the tip of Jongin’s tongue, something about another kind of facial, the kind of joke that Chanyeol would laugh at, Baekhyun would hit him for but laugh anyway, something Kyungsoo would find below his sense of humour, but would hide a grin behind his hands none the less.
Old memories.
“Book me in,” Jongin relents. People change but Baekhyun hasn't, and Jongin would rather get the whole ordeal over and done with. Baekhyun is demanding and won't rest until the idea in his head comes to fruition. It's one of his best, yet arguably worst traits, “I'm free on Monday.”
“2pm on Monday,” Baekhyun confirms, and it's so like him to have his schedule memorised, “And don't worry, I have special discounts for old friends.”
He winks. Jongin tries to smile, but the whole situation is too surreal. It looks forced. Baekhyun pretends not to notice.
“Thanks,” Jongin replies, “I'm looking forward to it.”
He's really not. He was looking forward to sleeping the entire day. He’s also hoping that Chanyeol never finds out what he's got planned for his day off; Chanyeol and Baekhyun got along famously, but any connection to Kyungsoo is a dangerous one, and Jongin, being the good friend he is, doesn't want Chanyeol to feel betrayed in any way.
“No you're not,” Baekhyun laughs, bright and cheery, full of memories, “But that's okay.”
Conversation dies off. Jongin shuffles his feet awkwardly. They ache, even with work appropriate shoes, standing and walking for nine hours make them throb through padded soles.
“I better be off,” Baekhyun points to his basket. Jongin finally notices the contents; a single bottle of raspberry and pomegranate body wash, numerous boxes of condoms, “Kyungsoo’s in a bit of a dry spell, I'm trying to help him out.”
“Kyungsoo will try and force feed you those,” Jongin points out, “He's not going to use them.”
“He's still hurting,” Baekhyun says quietly, “It's been years .”
“Chanyeol too,” Jongin replies, “I still don't know what happened.”
“Neither do I,” Baekhyun shrugs, “But maybe finding twenty boxes of condoms on his bed will make Kyungsoo laugh, you know?”
Jongin doubts it, but admires Baekhyun for trying, none the less.
“Good seeing you, Jongin.” Baekhyun says with finality.
“You too,” Once upon a time they had their own greetings, nicknames and in-jokes and awkwardness was something unfamiliar.
Everything about the situation feels wrong.
Jongin watches as Baekhyun walks away. Somehow, he feels like it's just another prolonged goodbye. They've lost their old friendship, and after Jongin’s appointment, the contact in Baekhyun’s phone will collect metaphorical dust; there but never used.
Until all contact is lost and forgotten, just like it was before.
------
“I ran into Jongdae the other day,” Chanyeol shovels a handful of chips into his mouth. He's on a bit of a health kick, so they're rice based and not made from potato. Jongin wants to point out that there's just as much sodium in Chanyeol’s new comfort food as there was in his old ones, but it's not the time.
“Oh?” In every battle there's collateral damage, and in the great war of Chanyeol vs Kyungsoo, Jongdae is the person who dealt with most of the fallout. As the mutual friend that introduced the two of them, he cut ties with everyone as the dust settled and the friendship group split. He has new friends now, a new life. A pretty girlfriend, too, if Facebook is to be believed. Jongin’s pretty sure that Jongdae is the sole person who knows what happened from both sides of the breakup. Jongin really doesn't blame him for abandoning ship, “How’d that go?”
“He ignored me,” Another fist full of snacks make their way into Chanyeol’s mouth. He's always been an emotional eater, “He saw me, turned around and walked away.”
“Ouch,” Jongin is bad at feelings. He's never been one to offer emotional support past monosyllabic answers to show he's still listening.
“Yeah, ouch,” Chanyeol sighs, because of the Jongdae situation or because his bag of snacks is empty, Jongin doesn't know.
------
The spa Baekhyun runs is clinically white, decorated with fake plants and pictures of obviously photoshopped models. It smells like hand sanitizer and cleaning spray, and Jongin pointedly avoids the giant poster of feet on the wall.
Apparently advertising the pedicure services offered at the establishment, they're clean and well maintained feet, but they're feet none the less and Jongin feels even more uncomfortable than he did before.
Baekhyun enters the waiting room, his savior in a white coat. His uniform looks similar to Jongin’s; high collared and bleached white, shining silver buttons and name tag pinned on the left side of his chest.
He smiles warmly, and Jongin forgets about the giant feet and his simmering anxiety.
“Jongin?” He questions, acting like Jongin is a first time customer and not an old friend, “Follow me, please.”
Baekhyun guides him through sterilized hallways, sporadic benches with more fake flowers, small doorways and more white . It's like a rabbit's warren, with more twists and turns than Jongin can remember, a labyrinth; he's lost and out of his depth, but Baekhyun is there, white coat a subtly different shade to the walls, his pink hair bouncing with every step.
Here, Jongin is all but pushed through a door not unlike the others he's passed, but there seems to be some importance to it, something about this room that Baekhyun favours.
Jongin works with his fare share of medical equipment, but he doesn't recognize any of the machinery lying innocently on the benches around his facial room. The beauty industry is certainly a whole new world, and Jongin, for all his knowledge of the human body and how it reacts, still knows next to nothing about skin, save for the basics he’s learnt in class. Jongin can tell a customer what effect a particular topical cream will have on their skin, but has no idea what’s about to happen to his face. He can recite the chemical makeup of countless medications, but doesn’t understand the poster on the wall of the facial room preaching the benefits of oxygen treatment.
“Shoes off,” Baekhyun motions for Jongin to take his place on the bed within the center of the room, pulling back the covers and patting the mattress, “And don’t worry about falling asleep, I won’t be offended.”
The lights are dim but Baekhyun’s smile is bright, humming to himself as he always does, slowly uncapping a bottle of oil and depositing a few drops into one of the contraptions. Within seconds the room fills with a pleasant scent, something rose-based, but Jongin has never been good at identifying smells. It reminds him of Baekhyun’s old apartment, always filled with different scents depending on the day and his mood. In fact, the mist wafting through the facial room is so familiar, Jongin’s sure he’s smelt this exact concoction of essential oils at some point at his life.
Another wave of nostalgia.
“It’s not what I usually use for facials,” Baekhyun says, pulling the blanket up to Jongin’s chin, almost fondly; like a mother tucking in her child, “But I remember you liked this one.”
“What?” Jongin is already feeling tired, the comfortable bed, the perfect temperature of the room, the soothing scent. He has no idea what Baekhyun’s talking about.
“The aromatherapy oil,” Baekhyun laughs, washing his hands at a small basin, “It’s meant for romance not relaxation.”
It doesn’t smell romantic. It smells like flowers. Jongin is still learning.
“I've always wanted to give you a facial,” Baekhyun says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. He towels the water from his hands and that's it, the awkward tension is broken, familiarity washing over him in a rush before settling--- it's like they haven't been apart for years--- Jongin can imagine Baekhyun cracking that kind of joke in front of their friends, he can almost hear Chanyeol’s echoing laughter.
“Way to make it sound sexual,” Jongin grumbles. He smiles, none the less.
“Well, I did set the mood for romance,” Baekhyun wiggles his hips suggestively, grins wolfishly.
“Facials aren't romantic,” Jongin offers in rebuttal, and the rest of his words are lost on the tip of his tongue as Baekhyun’s fingers slide across his face in a caress. He's probably checking for damage, seeing what the combined effects of work stress and binge eating have done to his skin, but it’s soothing, comforting. Baekhyun has always had gentle hands.
“I'm about to smear some warm goop on your face,” Baekhyun says. Jongin snorts in a repressed giggle.
“Professional,”
“Always,” Baekhyun feigns innocence as he begins the consultation.
Jongin is lost and out of his depth, drowning in the sensation of Baekhyun’s hands and fingers. He's overwhelmed with each new product, each cream and mask pushed into his skin but Baekhyun is there, softly humming, gentle hands always guiding him back above the surface.
“Feels good?” Baekhyun asks softly, testing the levels of Jongin’s comfort. There's a sort of intimacy to the whole thing; be it from the romantic oils, the soft touches or the rekindled fondness. The feeling settles in Jongin’s stomach like lead, as he's never associated Baekhyun with intimacy until now, never thought of those hands as anything but an extension of his old friend.
“Yeah,” He's talking about the facial but it feels like something else; their reconnection, maybe, or other things entirely.
The ordeal lasts for a good hour, Baekhyun leaving periodically to allow Jongin privacy as his masks sink into his skin, leaving Jongin alone with nothing but his thoughts, and the relaxation music Baekhyun must have started at some point. It’s pleasant background noise, often drowned out by Baekhyun’s humming or the splashing of water, the rustling of fabric when excess moisture is towelled from Jongin’s face.
He'll give Baekhyun credit; while not necessarily his thing, taking a day for a little self care has been more relaxing than an eighteen hour nap ever could. Jongin’s still exhausted, however, and he finds himself drifting in and out of sleep, awaking to Baekhyun’s soft chuckles or the cool sensation of lotions as they're smoothed across his forehead.
“And we’re done,” Baekhyun announces, concluding the experience with one last sweep of his fingertips, tracing a figure eight pattern along Jongin’s cheeks and forehead, sliding down his nose, thumb dragging along Jongin’s lower lip in finality.
“Thanks,” Jongin replies, ghost of Baekhyun’s touch still lingering. His skin feels far less heavy, more refreshed-- even though it tingles slightly. He goes to touch his cheek but Baekhyun slaps his hand away, wordlessly. He's under the assumption that Jongin remembers his preaching of old, telling Jongin (or anyone who would listen) not to touch their face with dirty hands. He assumes, and his assumptions are correct. Jongin drops his curious fingertips.
“First consultations are free,” Baekhyun says as he leads Jongin back through the labyrinth and out to the waiting room. Jongin pointedly ignores the feet on the wall, but their image lingers, and he can't repress the shudder.
“Seriously?” It can't bring too much business if they're offering services for free, even if they're basic consultations like the one Jongin had.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun winks. He looks around the empty reception, before dropping his voice to a whisper, “But only for old friends.”
Jongin immediately pulls out his wallet.
“Baek,” The old nickname slips out. Neither he nor Baekhyun acknowledge it, “I insist.”
“Sorry, I don't make the rules,” Baekhyun says, pushing Jongin’s credit card back into his hands.
“Yes you do,” Jongin tries with cash, this time. It's a meagre amount, compared to what the facial usually costs, but he feels bad. His attempts are met in the same fashion as before; Baekhyun taking the offered cash before folding it and slipping it into the front pocket of Jongin’s jacket.
“True,” Baekhyun replies with a laugh, “But I'm still not taking your money.”
“Let me make it up to you, then,” Jongin, who usually speaks with careful consideration, has no idea what he's saying. The words are out of his mouth before he can even think. Honestly, he had no intention of keeping in contact with Baekhyun past casual text messages. But this, this is something new entirely, “Lunch?”
“You still into those weird hipster cafés?” Baekhyun asks, taking initiative as always, “Because I've got a list of ones I wanna visit, but no one to go with.”
“I-- sure,” Jongin knows already that their café visits will become a regular thing, especially if Baekhyun already has a list, “That sounds good.”
“I'll call you?” Baekhyun words his statement like a question, testing the boundaries.
“Yeah,” Jongin finds it difficult to swallow. He doesn’t look at Baekhyun, “Yeah, sounds good.”
------
Sehun’s hands don't feel as good on his face as Baekhyun’s did. Jongin hates himself for his train of thought.
“Woah,” Sehun is in awe. Jongin doesn't think he looks all that different post-facial, but Sehun has obviously noticed some difference. Either that, or he looks worse than usual and Sehun’s just being an ass. It could go either way, “What happened to your face?”
“I had a facial,” Jongin says, inspecting his face in the small mirror one of the female members of staff set up in the break room, he still looks the same. Tired, worn out. “I don't think it did much.”
“Are you kidding?” Sehun grasps Jongin’s cheeks with his palms, pushing his face around, undoubtedly contorting his features into unflattering expressions, “You're, like, glowing.”
He supposes that Sehun is somewhat correct, something Baekhyun did has revived some of the dullness, reduced a few blemishes here and there. Nothing too major, and nothing warranting Sehun’s levels of awe.
Sehun’s skin is flawless, Jongin can barely see his pores. He's not a greasy mess by the end of the day, either. But Jongin is the one who refills his Isotretinoin prescription, so he knows Sehun’s flawless complexion is hard earned.
“I wish someone would give me a facial,” Sehun whines, dropping his hands and releasing Jongin’s face from his grip.
Minseok, one of their senior pharmacists, and Yixing from their admin department, choose the correct moment to enter the break room. They laugh, catching the end of a conversation that in hindsight, sounds far too suggestive for the workplace.
“Not like that!” Sehun scrambles to fix this misunderstanding, “I want a skincare facial, not, you know…”
Jongin feels for Sehun, he really does. Minseok is somewhat of his idol; a trusted, competent pharmacist who deals with even the most difficult of customers with ease. Yixing is more of his workplace crush, though he hasn't necessarily told Jongin as such; but Sehun is the first person to volunteer to help Yixing in his daily tasks. Jongin isn't sure if Sehun wants to be off the floor and away from customers, or in the tiny, cramped back room with Yixing for hours on end.
“We get it,” Yixing replies, smiling warmly, “Don't stress, Sehun.”
“We don't kinkshame,” Minseok replies. He's great with customers but sassy with staff. Jongin really likes him.
Sehun groans loudly, eliciting another round of laughter.
Jongin’s phone vibrates in his pocket;
From: Baekhyun
Have a good day at work ♡
“No phones on the floor,” Minseok scolds, interrupting Jongin before he can reply to his text, “And don't forget to sign in before your shift.”
Jongin has approximately two minutes to sign in and arrive on the floor. He shares a momentary look with Sehun, before unceremoniously throwing his phone into his locker and making a run for the door, Sehun hot on his heels.
He'll reply later.
------
“How was work?” Chanyeol doesn't look up from his phone as Jongin enters their shared apartment. The periodic swiping of his thumb across the screen leads Jongin to believe he's re-installed Tinder. Again.
Jongin groans, falling face first into the couch. Chanyeol doesn't cease in his judgmental left swiping, but uses his free hand to pat Jongin’s head in consolation. He appreciates the gesture.
“That bad, huh?” He sounds uninterested, but Jongin knows that Chanyeol isn’t really capable of doing two things at once. He's genuinely offering to be an outlet for Jongin to vent to, but he's also swept up in his superiority complex as he rejects yet another potential match on the dating app.
“A kid dropped a bottle of perfume on his foot,” Jongin starts, “I had to deal a screaming, crying child as I put a bandaid on his toe.”
“Screaming kids and feet,” Chanyeol was listening, after all, “Sounds like hell on earth for you.”
Chanyeol likes kids. Jongin does not. They're loud and obnoxious, and he can feel his paternal instinct withering away into nothingness with each and every mayhem inducing toddler that enters his store.
“No kidding,” Jongin says. He's got more to vent about, like how the phones never stopped ringing, and how the customers kept complaining on the long waits for their medication, but he's tired, too tired to even complain.
Chanyeol hums in interest, someone on Tinder finally catching his attention.
“Look,” Jongin squints at the brightness of the screen, taking in the profile of the girl Chanyeol will undoubtedly swipe right on, “She's cute, right?”
She looks like Kyungsoo. Jongin doesn't point it out.
“Super cute,” Jongin deadpans.
Chanyeol swipes right.
Jongin’s phone buzzes.
He sits up, reaching into his pocket and pulling the device out. It's probably just Sehun, mocking him over the events of the day. Or it could be Yixing, tagging him in some sort of work related Facebook meme.
It's Baekhyun.
So, I've decided on our first café…
Jongin smiles despite himself. He forgot to reply to Baekhyun’s earlier text, Jongin’s lunch break was spent eating as many fries as physically possible, but Baekhyun doesn't seem to care. He probably understands that Jongin is busy, and he's most likely busy himself.
He angles his phone away from Chanyeol in order to tap out his reply. It's a little redundant, Chanyeol is immersed in his left swiping and paying no attention to Jongin and his text messages.
To: Baekhyun
Just tell me where and when
He presses send, and Chanyeol cheers, startling him.
“We matched!” Chanyeol’s phone is pushed under Jongin’s nose once more, the screen displaying that Chanyeol and the Kyungsoo lookalike had indeed swiped right on each other's profiles.
“Congrats bro,” Jongin says. He still doesn't point out her resemblance to Chanyeol’s ex.
“Maybe you should download Tinder,” Chanyeol says, “Judge dumb profiles with me.”
“I'll pass,” Jongin shrugs. He's never been interested in dating apps, and never has the time to date. He's making time to see Baekhyun, however, and he doesn't want to stop and think of the implications.
“Hey,” Jongin pauses for a moment, trying to word his next question carefully, “You remember Baekhyun?”
Chanyeol’s reaction is immediate; he stiffens, pausing his movements. His eyes remain on his phone, reading and rereading the profile of a person that Jongin knows he's going to swipe left on.
“Yeah,” Chanyeol swallows, “I remember him. Why?”
He's so morose. Jongin automatically feels guilty for bringing the topic up. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo were almost inseparable, and bringing up the former undoubtedly reopened some of the wounds caused by the latter.
“I just---” Jongin sighs, “I saw something today that reminded me of him.”
“Why’d you have to bring it up?” Chanyeol’s phone auto locks due to inactivity. He keeps staring at the screen, “You know I--”
“Yeah I know,” Jongin replies, wrapping an arm around Chanyeol’s shoulder in an attempt to offer some form of comfort. It was stupid for Jongin to talk about Baekhyun, “Sorry.”
“I thought I'd be over him by now,” Honestly, so did Jongin. Five years is a long time to pine over your ex, but Chanyeol hasn't exactly tried to move on. He'll hook up with people he meets on Tinder, on occasion, but ultimately, no one ever sticks around, “Why can't I get over him?”
“Maybe Tinder Cutie will help?” Jongin prompts, trying to change the subject, “Why don't you send her a message?”
“Good idea,” Chanyeol’s smile is small and sad, but it's a smile none the less.
As Chanyeol unlocks his phone and begins his conversation with the Tinder girl, Jongin has time to think.
If he meets up with Baekhyun, and continues to do so, Chanyeol will be ridiculously hurt and betrayed if he ever finds out. He should cancel their café date, should delete Baekhyun’s number and never see him again.
But Baekhyun’s got puppydog eyes and Jongin is weak; just imagining the crestfallen look on his face if Jongin were to cancel last minute has him reconsidering his doubts.
It's all going to blow up in his face, eventually. Jongin just hopes that Chanyeol finally gets over Kyungsoo before that point, it might make the reveal a little easier, the betrayal a little less harsh.
Jongin hopes, but he's not holding his breath.
------
“So,” Jongin starts, quite unsure what to say. He and Baekhyun have a cosy seat in a cute cafe, pastel colour scheme and mismatched furniture, handwritten menus and covered in trinkets. Jongin loves it already, and they haven't even ordered, “This place is--”
“Cute,” Baekhyun has his elbows resting on the table, chin propped up on his hands. His eyes scan the café’s interior, before landing on Jongin, “This place is cute.”
“Yeah,” Baekhyun’s hair blends into the pastel pink wall behind him, “It's cute.”
“I've heard they make a great Ruben,” He suggests, motioning towards the menu lying in front of them, “But I'm wondering if they can make this a little less awkward.”
“Sorry,” Jongin replies sheepishly, “I'm making things weird, aren't I?”
“A little,” Baekhyun smiles, all teeth. He seems more amused by the awkward tension rather than annoyed by it, he nudges Jongin’s ankle under the table with the tip of his sneaker. He remembers that Jongin doesn't like having his feet touched, even through shoes, something even Chanyeol forgets on occasion, “But that's okay.”
“I don't think Chanyeol would approve of,” Jongin gestures between them, “This.”
“Chanyeol can suck my dick,” Baekhyun deadpans. He nudges Jongin’s ankle again, a little softer this time, more of a caress. Byun Baekhyun is playing footsie with him under the table at a pastel themed café. Jongin isn't sure what to think, but he doesn't hate it.
“He'd rather suck--” Jongin stops himself. He was tempted to mention Kyungsoo, but their tumultuous relationship is hardly an appropriate punchline. Besides, he doesn't want to talk about them, doesn't want his nice day off spent talking about how his friend can't or won't move on.
“I say we go the Ruben,” Baekhyun knows what Jongin nearly said, understands why he stopped himself, “And I'm not sure about you, but I'm thinking a milkshake.”
Baekhyun eases the awkward situation into free-flowing conversation, he talks about his work, asks about Jongin’s. He laughs when Jongin tells him about his misadventures with Sehun in the pharmacy, offers sympathetic hums when prompted, and is otherwise the best company Jongin’s had in a long time.
He looks adorable as he eats his sandwich, squirming excitedly as the cheese stretches to the length of his arm and longer, before finally snapping and coming to rest on his chin.
Jongin’s face hurts from smiling.
------
One café becomes many, and Jongin finds himself spending his lunch breaks searching for new establishments to try, excitedly texting Baekhyun with the shortlisted candidates.
Baekhyun replies with emojis and selfies; he's had to turn auto display off, there's been too many close calls where Baekhyun will send him a good night message, complete with a silly photo of himself going through his nightly routine--- brushing his teeth, using a face mask, or just snuggled under his blankets--- close calls where Jongin’s phone lies within reach of Chanyeol, and Baekhyun’s smiling face has appeared on the screen.
Jongin starts sending his own in reply, they're a little more boring, but Baekhyun seems to appreciate the gesture. He even sets a selfie Jongin takes in the breakroom at his work as his phone’s wallpaper. It's hardly a spectacular photo; Jongin’s pouting at the camera grumpily-- probably because of customers, possibly Sehun--- he doesn't remember why. He's just flattered that Baekhyun found the photo appealing enough to display on his phone, that his face is something that Baekhyun wants to see when he unlocks the device, or checks the time.
Jongin would return the favour, but he can't. Not while he's still living with Chanyeol. Baekhyun understands.
They explore the city like true foodies, finding hidden restaurants, renowned food trucks and hipster cafés; anything that comes with a recommendation, really.
It's less about the food, and more about the adventure; finding something new, finding something together. Jongin barely remembers the places they visit, the interiors all melding together in his memory, but he can vividly recall Baekhyun at each and every place. Jongin can't recall the flavour of his cheesecake at the fourth café, but he knows what Baekhyun looked like when he took a bite of his own; pleasantly surprised, excited. Eyes lighting up as the adventurous option of a vegan cheesecake turned out to be a good idea.
They're not so much outings as they are dates.
Baekhyun is beautiful, charming, a whole plethora of adjectives that Jongin interchanges at whim. They link ankles under tables, hide smiles behind coffee cups, allow heated gazes to linger on exposed collarbones.
Jongin knows he's in too deep when he takes the initiative to hold Baekhyun’s hand on top of their shared table, running his thumb over Baekhyun’s knuckles and playing with his fingers. Baekhyun's hands are as beautiful as the rest of him.
“You have nice hands,” Jongin says, brain to mouth filter temporarily removed, “I mean, all of you is nice, but I like your hands.”
“I'm good with my hands,” Baekhyun replies, dragging two fingertips along Jongin’s thumb. His words, his motions, they're almost suggestive. Baekhyun sinks his teeth into his lower lip and regards Jongin curiously; he's testing the waters, again. Seeing what Jongin is comfortable with. It's almost as if---
“I mean, you were on the receiving end of one of my signature facials,” Baekhyun winks obnoxiously, destroying the mood. He withdraws his hand from where Jongin holds it, fingers drumming nervous patterns on wood, “So you would know.”
“Yeah,” Jongin’s hand feels cold, empty. He’d like nothing more than to reach across the table and take his hand again. He doesn't know why, Jongin doesn’t feel uncomfortable, or out of his depth, but he craves the kind of comfort and intimacy that Baekhyun provides.
He's not the most physically affectionate person, not by any means. He doesn't cling like Chanyeol and Sehun; two undoubtedly tactile people, unable to keep their hands to themselves, even innocently.
But thoughts of Baekhyun become thoughts and urges, to touch and to hold, to be with him constantly. It's terrifying and overwhelming, and Jongin is drowning again.
Baekhyun launches into a rant about the spa, his customers, the beauty therapists who work for him. He's animated and lively, each anecdote commanding Jongin’s full attention. Baekhyun distracts him, pulls him to the surface with his words, keeps his head above the proverbial water.
Jongin allows himself the distraction. He's not quite ready to dwell on his thoughts, or their implications.
Not yet.
------
“I'm looking for some advice on vitamins,” Jongin is obsessively disinfecting the counter when the customer approaches him. He groans internally, a child kept sneezing on the counter as her mother purchased cold and flu medication; Jongin has seen the latest strain of the illness and it doesn't look like a fun time. He hopes he's killed enough germs to avoid infection, “Of course, if you're able to help me?”
“Of course,” Jongin echoes, he hasn't looked at the customer, yet. He stashes the paper towels and disinfectant spray in the drawer beneath the cash register, “What were you looking---”
Chanyeol once described Jongdae’s smile as “curly”. It's only now that Jongin sees what he means, as he observes the way Jongdae’s lips curl into a smile. Jongin himself must look like the human embodiment of the shocked-face emoji, because suddenly Jongdae is laughing at him. It catches Sehun’s attention, and he shoots Jongin a questioning glance.
“Long time no see,” Jongin’s been running into a lot of old friends recently. He's not exactly running from the past, not like Chanyeol, but it keeps catching up with him none the less.
“No kidding,” Jongdae is all smiles, and from Jongin’s experience, it's never a good thing.
“Why are you here?” If Facebook is to be believed, Jongdae lives in a nice apartment on the other side of the city. There's dozens of pharmacies in between his house and Jongin’s work, so there should be no reason for Jongdae to spontaneously arrive at Jongin’s workplace. And as much as it pains him to admit, Jongin’s pharmacy is hardly the best; there's bigger, cheaper establishments, and a lot of them closer to Jongdae.
“I was in the area,” Jongdae shrugs, “Saw Baekhyun, and remembered that I was out of vitamins.”
Baekhyun. Of course.
“He recommended this place, actually,” Jongdae continues. Sehun tries to look inconspicuous as he starts rearranging the shelves behind Jongin’s register. He fails miserably, but neither Jongin nor Jongdae points it out, “Said the customer service is excellent.”
“Did he, now?” Baekhyun hasn't been into Jongin’s work, at least, not while Jongin’s on shift. And considering Jongin’s on shift for most of the opening hours, it would have been hard to miss him.
“I think I understand, now,” Jongdae says. He was never this cryptic, not when he and Jongin were close. Time changes some people, after all, “What Baekhyun was talking about.”
“I haven't served you, yet,” Jongin replies, puzzled. They're still standing at the counter, speaking in riddles as Sehun tries to eavesdrop.
“You're seeing Baekhyun, aren't you,” It's not a question. Jongin is missing something.
“Yeah, once a week?” Jongin rounds the counter, leading Jongdae to the wall of vitamins lining the edge of the store. Something to keep him from fidgeting, to keep their conversation from curious ears, “We get food and talk. It’s pretty great.”
“Does Chanyeol know?” Jongdae prompts. He doesn't ask for Jongin’s opinion on his vitamins, grabbing a few select jars from the wall. He didn't need help, he knows exactly what he's getting; down to the brand, dosage, added benefits.
“No,” Jongin says after a moment, “No he doesn't.”
“Do you know?” Jongdae pushes again, more riddles.
“Do I know what?” Jongin is utterly puzzled, “I know I'm seeing Baekhyun.”
“Are you sure?” Jongdae leads them this time, evidently happy with his items, he prompts Jongin to finalize the sale. Sehun is still “rearranging” the shelves.
“Yes?” Jongin’s hands work on autopilot, entering his staff code, scanning Jongdae’s vitamins. His mind is elsewhere, preoccupied with more questions than answers.
“Here,” Jongdae hands a business card to Jongin as well as his credit card. It's for a fancy real estate agency, a household name. The kind of place that can afford high budget television advertising. Jongdae still looks the same, but in a sense he's unrecognizable; becoming a real estate agent is a far cry from the teacher Jongdae wanted to be, back when they were friends. Jongin pockets the card wordlessly, “Don't be a stranger.”
Jongin doesn't reply, but Jongdae’s smile doesn't falter. He leaves the store after a cheery thank you and a wave.
“So,” Sehun stops pretending to clean shelves in order to confront Jongin, waiting an appropriate length of time before starting the conversation, “He was cute.”
“Straight,” Jongin sighs, thumbing nervously at the card in his pocket, “You've got more of a chance with Yixing, if I'm honest.”
“You think?” Sehun replies excitedly, before collecting himself, “I mean, why do you say that, has he said---”
“You've got no chance with Jongdae,” He says, biting back a smile, “But you've got next to no chance with Yixing.”
“Goddamn it, Jongin!” Sehun growls, throwing a scrunched up ball of paper towels in his direction. They're covered in disinfectant and dust, so Jongin ducks out of the way accordingly.
“Boys,” Junmyeon’s voice echoes from behind the dispensary wall, “No fighting on the floor.”
“Sorry,” They mumble, returning to their tasks. Jongin picks up Sehun’s discarded roll of paper towels, determined to claim the job before he's designated a worse task, like sorting scripts.
“Sehun,” Junmyeon continues, “If you can work with Yixing without flirting, then you're welcome to help him. He'd appreciate a hand.”
“He said hand, not handjob,” Minseok supplies, walking into the dispensary from the back room, arms piled high with Webster Packs.
“I hate you all,” Sehun mutters, but he practically runs to the storeroom, tripping over his feet in his haste.
“Don't tell Sehun I said this,” Minseok whispers, “But Yixing would totally appreciate a hand job.”
Jongin laughs.
He tries not to think of Baekhyun’s hands.
this story is continued.
part ii
For: sunsethue
By: ANONYMOUS
Word count: 15,342
Warnings: None
Rating: NC-17
Summary: People change but Baekhyun hasn't. He's always been beautiful, but Jongin's only just started to notice.
“Do you have any recommendations?” Jongin is sure the customer continues talking, but there's a foot on his counter and he's trying his Very Best not to scream, cry and throw up. In that order. Jongin sees a lot of disgusting things, working in a pharmacy, but the surprising amount of regular customers coming in with toenail fungus has to be at the top of the list.
“Well?” The woman continues, wiggling her toes in Jongin’s direction. He can hear the pharmacists laughing from the dispensary. Sehun, the other pharmacy intern that works with Jongin, snickers quietly as he scurries past, armed with medication for his own customer.
Jongin tries not to look at her feet. The fungal infection has caused swelling, a disgusting buildup of yellow gunk to form on top of the nail. The skin around the edges is purple and most likely filled with pus. Jongin wants to scream, cry and throw up. Again, in that order.
“Here,” Jongin hands the customer the strongest antifungal formula they stock, gesturing for her to take her foot off the counter, and progress to the register, “If this doesn't work, you'll need to see a podiatrist.”
“What do you mean if ,” The woman, probably in her mid forties, looks downright livid. A lot of people come into Jongin’s workplace seeking and instant cure, and when told that it may take time--- or in this case, the consultation of a specialist--- they tend to get a little angry.
“You have a severe infection, ma’am,” Jongin has his best customer service voice on, “You may need some sort of extraction.”
“You can't do that here?” Inhale. Exhale. Don't sass the customers.
“This is a pharmacy,” Jongin deadpans, “All we can do is supply medication.”
The woman continues to grumble as Jongin processes her purchase. Jongin continues with his calming breathing techniques even as she hobbles from the store, movements hindered by the fungal buildup on her toenails.
Finally, she leaves, and Jongin is able to release the full bodied shudder he's been holding in since she first placed her rotting feet onto the counter.
“That was gross,” Sehun comments, moments after handing one of their regular customers her blood pressure medication, “But it was hilarious.”
“You're gross,” Jongin retorts, already reaching for the disinfectant spray and roll of paper towels. He pauses, and decides that maybe a pair of disposable gloves might be useful, too. Can't be too careful.
“You have a foot phobia, yet everyone comes to you with their foot fungus,” Sehun doesn't help Jongin disinfect the bench. He just stands, watching, and laughing quietly to himself, “Apparently you give out a vibe that says I love feet, please show me your toenails.”
Jongin tries not to scream.
“Stop mocking other people's pain,” Junmyeon, the head pharmacist, says from behind the dispensary wall. He's too short to see over it, but he's got this kind of creepy, supersonic hearing that allows him to hear, rather than see, when the staff aren't working.
“But it's so much fun,” Sehun whines. Jongin can hear the pout in his voice.
“You know what else is fun?” Junmyeon says, wall still obscuring his face. Judging by his tone, the pharmacist is wearing a smug grin, and whatever he's about to say probably won't bode well for Sehun, “Sorting scripts.”
Sehun groans out loud, and it's Jongin’s turn to laugh. He inhales a fair amount of disinfectant spray but whatever, it's worth it. Sehun hates sorting scripts as much as Jongin hates feet. It's not revenge but it sorta feels like it, so Jongin feels accomplished none the less.
“I keep shitting myself,” Jongin hasn't finished scrubbing the counter before the next customer arrives, an elderly man who speaks gruffly, staring pointedly at Jongin, “What can you do for me?”
Jongin sighs, abandoning his cleaning in order to help the new customer.
All in all, it's just another day in pharmacy.
------
Jongin receives a staff discount at his work, but they don't stock his favourite brand of body wash, so he has to shop elsewhere for his body cleansing needs.
After the events of the day--- toenail fungus, incontinence, a small child throwing up on the carpet--- Jongin is overwhelmed with the need to take an hour long shower and metaphorically scrub the events of the day from his skin.
There's only one bottle of his preferred body wash left, a minty gel that fills the shower with a delightful, calming scent. He takes it promptly, adding it to his basket, already filled the brim with snacks and comfort food.
“You get me hooked on that shit, then take the last one,” Someone says from behind him, “Rude.”
Byun Baekhyun stands behind him, eyebrow raised and grinning widely. Honestly, Jongin never thought he'd see that expression, nor the man attached to it, ever again.
“Hey,” Jongin croaks. It's such a nostalgia trip, seeing Baekhyun like this, talking so casually with him. They were friends, once upon a time. But things happened and contact was lost, old friendships lost along the path to adulthood, “Long time no see.”
“No kidding,” Baekhyun just shrugs, nonchalant as always. He takes another bottle of body wash from the shelf, this one flavoured with pomegranate and raspberry, and adds it to his own basket, “Never thought I'd see you again, to be honest.”
Most people don't know that World War III was fought not on a remote battlefield, but in a small inner city apartment. Chanyeol, Jongin’s best friend of countless years, endured quite the messy breakup. Things were thrown, harsh words were said, and five years later Jongin still doesn't know what caused it. All he knows is that Chanyeol flinches whenever someone says a word that rhymes with either ‘Kyung’ or ‘Soo’, and that their conjoined friend group split as the couple did.
Baekhyun, as Kyungsoo’s best friend, understandably took Kyungsoo’s side on the breakup. Jongin hasn’t seen, nor heard from him in years.
“You're looking good,” Jongin doesn't quite know what to say, personal jokes of old dying on his tongue. They're practically strangers, now, so their old banter feels foreign, wrong. He's not lying, though. Baekhyun’s always had this kind of glow about him; a warmth and air of friendliness that draws people in. He's a lot like Chanyeol in that way, the sort of person you'll meet once and instantly become friends with.
Out of all of Kyungsoo’s friends, Baekhyun was by far his favourite.
“You look,” Baekhyun pauses thoughtfully, taking time to choose his words, “Tired. You look tired.”
“I'm working a lot,” Jongin gestures to the stark white of his pharmacy uniform. Sometimes it makes him feel important, wearing something so obviously medical. But other times it just reminds him of his job, and how much of a burden it can be, “Long hours, you know.”
Baekhyun just hums in reply. He's that sort of person; always humming, using various sounds and non-verbal tics to portray emotion. He procures a business card out of seemingly nowhere, and hands it to Jongin with a bright grin.
“I'm running a spa at the moment,” Baekhyun was studying beauty therapy, back when he and Jongin were close. It's no surprise to see that he's made it so far in such little time; Baekhyun is nothing if not ambitious, “If you need relaxation day, just give me a call.”
“Sure,” Jongin replies, but he has no real intention of taking Baekhyun up on his offer. He regularly works six day weeks, and his rare moments of spare time are spent as horizontal and unconscious as physically possible.
“I know that tone,” Baekhyun chides, “You’re not going to visit me at work, are you?”
“You got me,” Jongin runs a hand through the back of his hair sheepishly, a habit he picked up during high school, where he and Chanyeol spent more time watching anime than either of them are willing to admit, “I'm too dead after work for anything other than sleep.”
“Give me your number,” Baekhyun holds his phone out expectantly, “I'll keep texting you until you do.”
Jongin laughs, but takes the offered phone wordlessly. He watches as Baekhyun saves his details, adding a cute heart at the end of his name before finalizing the new contact. It spurs another sudden rush of nostalgia; back when they were friends, Baekhyun made sure there were hearts beside the names of his closest friends as they were listed in his contacts.
Lives change, people change, but there's always an undercurrent of familiarity; no matter who Baekhyun has become, there are still things so quintessentially him that remain the same. Hearts beside contact details, using the same brand of body wash as Jongin because back in the day, he liked the way Jongin smelt. It's all too much.
“When was the last time you exfoliated?” There are hands on his face, Baekhyun inspecting his skin under the harsh lights of the supermarket, eyes trained on the imperfections marring Jongin’s cheeks and jawline, the dullness of his skin.
“When did Chanyeol and Kyungsoo break up?” Baekhyun’s influence includes a lot of things, and adopting a proper skincare routine is one of them. After their loss of contact, Jongin abandoned his regime, no longer fearing Baekhyun’s retribution over a skipped toner or drugstore cleanser purchase.
Baekhyun tsks disapprovingly. The grease from Jongin’s T-Zone accumulates on his fingers, and he wipes it away on his pants with a disgusted curl of his lips.
“Yeah, you definitely need to come see me at work,” He says, “You're in dire need of a facial.”
An inappropriate retort lies on the tip of Jongin’s tongue, something about another kind of facial, the kind of joke that Chanyeol would laugh at, Baekhyun would hit him for but laugh anyway, something Kyungsoo would find below his sense of humour, but would hide a grin behind his hands none the less.
Old memories.
“Book me in,” Jongin relents. People change but Baekhyun hasn't, and Jongin would rather get the whole ordeal over and done with. Baekhyun is demanding and won't rest until the idea in his head comes to fruition. It's one of his best, yet arguably worst traits, “I'm free on Monday.”
“2pm on Monday,” Baekhyun confirms, and it's so like him to have his schedule memorised, “And don't worry, I have special discounts for old friends.”
He winks. Jongin tries to smile, but the whole situation is too surreal. It looks forced. Baekhyun pretends not to notice.
“Thanks,” Jongin replies, “I'm looking forward to it.”
He's really not. He was looking forward to sleeping the entire day. He’s also hoping that Chanyeol never finds out what he's got planned for his day off; Chanyeol and Baekhyun got along famously, but any connection to Kyungsoo is a dangerous one, and Jongin, being the good friend he is, doesn't want Chanyeol to feel betrayed in any way.
“No you're not,” Baekhyun laughs, bright and cheery, full of memories, “But that's okay.”
Conversation dies off. Jongin shuffles his feet awkwardly. They ache, even with work appropriate shoes, standing and walking for nine hours make them throb through padded soles.
“I better be off,” Baekhyun points to his basket. Jongin finally notices the contents; a single bottle of raspberry and pomegranate body wash, numerous boxes of condoms, “Kyungsoo’s in a bit of a dry spell, I'm trying to help him out.”
“Kyungsoo will try and force feed you those,” Jongin points out, “He's not going to use them.”
“He's still hurting,” Baekhyun says quietly, “It's been years .”
“Chanyeol too,” Jongin replies, “I still don't know what happened.”
“Neither do I,” Baekhyun shrugs, “But maybe finding twenty boxes of condoms on his bed will make Kyungsoo laugh, you know?”
Jongin doubts it, but admires Baekhyun for trying, none the less.
“Good seeing you, Jongin.” Baekhyun says with finality.
“You too,” Once upon a time they had their own greetings, nicknames and in-jokes and awkwardness was something unfamiliar.
Everything about the situation feels wrong.
Jongin watches as Baekhyun walks away. Somehow, he feels like it's just another prolonged goodbye. They've lost their old friendship, and after Jongin’s appointment, the contact in Baekhyun’s phone will collect metaphorical dust; there but never used.
Until all contact is lost and forgotten, just like it was before.
------
“I ran into Jongdae the other day,” Chanyeol shovels a handful of chips into his mouth. He's on a bit of a health kick, so they're rice based and not made from potato. Jongin wants to point out that there's just as much sodium in Chanyeol’s new comfort food as there was in his old ones, but it's not the time.
“Oh?” In every battle there's collateral damage, and in the great war of Chanyeol vs Kyungsoo, Jongdae is the person who dealt with most of the fallout. As the mutual friend that introduced the two of them, he cut ties with everyone as the dust settled and the friendship group split. He has new friends now, a new life. A pretty girlfriend, too, if Facebook is to be believed. Jongin’s pretty sure that Jongdae is the sole person who knows what happened from both sides of the breakup. Jongin really doesn't blame him for abandoning ship, “How’d that go?”
“He ignored me,” Another fist full of snacks make their way into Chanyeol’s mouth. He's always been an emotional eater, “He saw me, turned around and walked away.”
“Ouch,” Jongin is bad at feelings. He's never been one to offer emotional support past monosyllabic answers to show he's still listening.
“Yeah, ouch,” Chanyeol sighs, because of the Jongdae situation or because his bag of snacks is empty, Jongin doesn't know.
------
The spa Baekhyun runs is clinically white, decorated with fake plants and pictures of obviously photoshopped models. It smells like hand sanitizer and cleaning spray, and Jongin pointedly avoids the giant poster of feet on the wall.
Apparently advertising the pedicure services offered at the establishment, they're clean and well maintained feet, but they're feet none the less and Jongin feels even more uncomfortable than he did before.
Baekhyun enters the waiting room, his savior in a white coat. His uniform looks similar to Jongin’s; high collared and bleached white, shining silver buttons and name tag pinned on the left side of his chest.
He smiles warmly, and Jongin forgets about the giant feet and his simmering anxiety.
“Jongin?” He questions, acting like Jongin is a first time customer and not an old friend, “Follow me, please.”
Baekhyun guides him through sterilized hallways, sporadic benches with more fake flowers, small doorways and more white . It's like a rabbit's warren, with more twists and turns than Jongin can remember, a labyrinth; he's lost and out of his depth, but Baekhyun is there, white coat a subtly different shade to the walls, his pink hair bouncing with every step.
Here, Jongin is all but pushed through a door not unlike the others he's passed, but there seems to be some importance to it, something about this room that Baekhyun favours.
Jongin works with his fare share of medical equipment, but he doesn't recognize any of the machinery lying innocently on the benches around his facial room. The beauty industry is certainly a whole new world, and Jongin, for all his knowledge of the human body and how it reacts, still knows next to nothing about skin, save for the basics he’s learnt in class. Jongin can tell a customer what effect a particular topical cream will have on their skin, but has no idea what’s about to happen to his face. He can recite the chemical makeup of countless medications, but doesn’t understand the poster on the wall of the facial room preaching the benefits of oxygen treatment.
“Shoes off,” Baekhyun motions for Jongin to take his place on the bed within the center of the room, pulling back the covers and patting the mattress, “And don’t worry about falling asleep, I won’t be offended.”
The lights are dim but Baekhyun’s smile is bright, humming to himself as he always does, slowly uncapping a bottle of oil and depositing a few drops into one of the contraptions. Within seconds the room fills with a pleasant scent, something rose-based, but Jongin has never been good at identifying smells. It reminds him of Baekhyun’s old apartment, always filled with different scents depending on the day and his mood. In fact, the mist wafting through the facial room is so familiar, Jongin’s sure he’s smelt this exact concoction of essential oils at some point at his life.
Another wave of nostalgia.
“It’s not what I usually use for facials,” Baekhyun says, pulling the blanket up to Jongin’s chin, almost fondly; like a mother tucking in her child, “But I remember you liked this one.”
“What?” Jongin is already feeling tired, the comfortable bed, the perfect temperature of the room, the soothing scent. He has no idea what Baekhyun’s talking about.
“The aromatherapy oil,” Baekhyun laughs, washing his hands at a small basin, “It’s meant for romance not relaxation.”
It doesn’t smell romantic. It smells like flowers. Jongin is still learning.
“I've always wanted to give you a facial,” Baekhyun says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. He towels the water from his hands and that's it, the awkward tension is broken, familiarity washing over him in a rush before settling--- it's like they haven't been apart for years--- Jongin can imagine Baekhyun cracking that kind of joke in front of their friends, he can almost hear Chanyeol’s echoing laughter.
“Way to make it sound sexual,” Jongin grumbles. He smiles, none the less.
“Well, I did set the mood for romance,” Baekhyun wiggles his hips suggestively, grins wolfishly.
“Facials aren't romantic,” Jongin offers in rebuttal, and the rest of his words are lost on the tip of his tongue as Baekhyun’s fingers slide across his face in a caress. He's probably checking for damage, seeing what the combined effects of work stress and binge eating have done to his skin, but it’s soothing, comforting. Baekhyun has always had gentle hands.
“I'm about to smear some warm goop on your face,” Baekhyun says. Jongin snorts in a repressed giggle.
“Professional,”
“Always,” Baekhyun feigns innocence as he begins the consultation.
Jongin is lost and out of his depth, drowning in the sensation of Baekhyun’s hands and fingers. He's overwhelmed with each new product, each cream and mask pushed into his skin but Baekhyun is there, softly humming, gentle hands always guiding him back above the surface.
“Feels good?” Baekhyun asks softly, testing the levels of Jongin’s comfort. There's a sort of intimacy to the whole thing; be it from the romantic oils, the soft touches or the rekindled fondness. The feeling settles in Jongin’s stomach like lead, as he's never associated Baekhyun with intimacy until now, never thought of those hands as anything but an extension of his old friend.
“Yeah,” He's talking about the facial but it feels like something else; their reconnection, maybe, or other things entirely.
The ordeal lasts for a good hour, Baekhyun leaving periodically to allow Jongin privacy as his masks sink into his skin, leaving Jongin alone with nothing but his thoughts, and the relaxation music Baekhyun must have started at some point. It’s pleasant background noise, often drowned out by Baekhyun’s humming or the splashing of water, the rustling of fabric when excess moisture is towelled from Jongin’s face.
He'll give Baekhyun credit; while not necessarily his thing, taking a day for a little self care has been more relaxing than an eighteen hour nap ever could. Jongin’s still exhausted, however, and he finds himself drifting in and out of sleep, awaking to Baekhyun’s soft chuckles or the cool sensation of lotions as they're smoothed across his forehead.
“And we’re done,” Baekhyun announces, concluding the experience with one last sweep of his fingertips, tracing a figure eight pattern along Jongin’s cheeks and forehead, sliding down his nose, thumb dragging along Jongin’s lower lip in finality.
“Thanks,” Jongin replies, ghost of Baekhyun’s touch still lingering. His skin feels far less heavy, more refreshed-- even though it tingles slightly. He goes to touch his cheek but Baekhyun slaps his hand away, wordlessly. He's under the assumption that Jongin remembers his preaching of old, telling Jongin (or anyone who would listen) not to touch their face with dirty hands. He assumes, and his assumptions are correct. Jongin drops his curious fingertips.
“First consultations are free,” Baekhyun says as he leads Jongin back through the labyrinth and out to the waiting room. Jongin pointedly ignores the feet on the wall, but their image lingers, and he can't repress the shudder.
“Seriously?” It can't bring too much business if they're offering services for free, even if they're basic consultations like the one Jongin had.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun winks. He looks around the empty reception, before dropping his voice to a whisper, “But only for old friends.”
Jongin immediately pulls out his wallet.
“Baek,” The old nickname slips out. Neither he nor Baekhyun acknowledge it, “I insist.”
“Sorry, I don't make the rules,” Baekhyun says, pushing Jongin’s credit card back into his hands.
“Yes you do,” Jongin tries with cash, this time. It's a meagre amount, compared to what the facial usually costs, but he feels bad. His attempts are met in the same fashion as before; Baekhyun taking the offered cash before folding it and slipping it into the front pocket of Jongin’s jacket.
“True,” Baekhyun replies with a laugh, “But I'm still not taking your money.”
“Let me make it up to you, then,” Jongin, who usually speaks with careful consideration, has no idea what he's saying. The words are out of his mouth before he can even think. Honestly, he had no intention of keeping in contact with Baekhyun past casual text messages. But this, this is something new entirely, “Lunch?”
“You still into those weird hipster cafés?” Baekhyun asks, taking initiative as always, “Because I've got a list of ones I wanna visit, but no one to go with.”
“I-- sure,” Jongin knows already that their café visits will become a regular thing, especially if Baekhyun already has a list, “That sounds good.”
“I'll call you?” Baekhyun words his statement like a question, testing the boundaries.
“Yeah,” Jongin finds it difficult to swallow. He doesn’t look at Baekhyun, “Yeah, sounds good.”
------
Sehun’s hands don't feel as good on his face as Baekhyun’s did. Jongin hates himself for his train of thought.
“Woah,” Sehun is in awe. Jongin doesn't think he looks all that different post-facial, but Sehun has obviously noticed some difference. Either that, or he looks worse than usual and Sehun’s just being an ass. It could go either way, “What happened to your face?”
“I had a facial,” Jongin says, inspecting his face in the small mirror one of the female members of staff set up in the break room, he still looks the same. Tired, worn out. “I don't think it did much.”
“Are you kidding?” Sehun grasps Jongin’s cheeks with his palms, pushing his face around, undoubtedly contorting his features into unflattering expressions, “You're, like, glowing.”
He supposes that Sehun is somewhat correct, something Baekhyun did has revived some of the dullness, reduced a few blemishes here and there. Nothing too major, and nothing warranting Sehun’s levels of awe.
Sehun’s skin is flawless, Jongin can barely see his pores. He's not a greasy mess by the end of the day, either. But Jongin is the one who refills his Isotretinoin prescription, so he knows Sehun’s flawless complexion is hard earned.
“I wish someone would give me a facial,” Sehun whines, dropping his hands and releasing Jongin’s face from his grip.
Minseok, one of their senior pharmacists, and Yixing from their admin department, choose the correct moment to enter the break room. They laugh, catching the end of a conversation that in hindsight, sounds far too suggestive for the workplace.
“Not like that!” Sehun scrambles to fix this misunderstanding, “I want a skincare facial, not, you know…”
Jongin feels for Sehun, he really does. Minseok is somewhat of his idol; a trusted, competent pharmacist who deals with even the most difficult of customers with ease. Yixing is more of his workplace crush, though he hasn't necessarily told Jongin as such; but Sehun is the first person to volunteer to help Yixing in his daily tasks. Jongin isn't sure if Sehun wants to be off the floor and away from customers, or in the tiny, cramped back room with Yixing for hours on end.
“We get it,” Yixing replies, smiling warmly, “Don't stress, Sehun.”
“We don't kinkshame,” Minseok replies. He's great with customers but sassy with staff. Jongin really likes him.
Sehun groans loudly, eliciting another round of laughter.
Jongin’s phone vibrates in his pocket;
From: Baekhyun
Have a good day at work ♡
“No phones on the floor,” Minseok scolds, interrupting Jongin before he can reply to his text, “And don't forget to sign in before your shift.”
Jongin has approximately two minutes to sign in and arrive on the floor. He shares a momentary look with Sehun, before unceremoniously throwing his phone into his locker and making a run for the door, Sehun hot on his heels.
He'll reply later.
------
“How was work?” Chanyeol doesn't look up from his phone as Jongin enters their shared apartment. The periodic swiping of his thumb across the screen leads Jongin to believe he's re-installed Tinder. Again.
Jongin groans, falling face first into the couch. Chanyeol doesn't cease in his judgmental left swiping, but uses his free hand to pat Jongin’s head in consolation. He appreciates the gesture.
“That bad, huh?” He sounds uninterested, but Jongin knows that Chanyeol isn’t really capable of doing two things at once. He's genuinely offering to be an outlet for Jongin to vent to, but he's also swept up in his superiority complex as he rejects yet another potential match on the dating app.
“A kid dropped a bottle of perfume on his foot,” Jongin starts, “I had to deal a screaming, crying child as I put a bandaid on his toe.”
“Screaming kids and feet,” Chanyeol was listening, after all, “Sounds like hell on earth for you.”
Chanyeol likes kids. Jongin does not. They're loud and obnoxious, and he can feel his paternal instinct withering away into nothingness with each and every mayhem inducing toddler that enters his store.
“No kidding,” Jongin says. He's got more to vent about, like how the phones never stopped ringing, and how the customers kept complaining on the long waits for their medication, but he's tired, too tired to even complain.
Chanyeol hums in interest, someone on Tinder finally catching his attention.
“Look,” Jongin squints at the brightness of the screen, taking in the profile of the girl Chanyeol will undoubtedly swipe right on, “She's cute, right?”
She looks like Kyungsoo. Jongin doesn't point it out.
“Super cute,” Jongin deadpans.
Chanyeol swipes right.
Jongin’s phone buzzes.
He sits up, reaching into his pocket and pulling the device out. It's probably just Sehun, mocking him over the events of the day. Or it could be Yixing, tagging him in some sort of work related Facebook meme.
It's Baekhyun.
So, I've decided on our first café…
Jongin smiles despite himself. He forgot to reply to Baekhyun’s earlier text, Jongin’s lunch break was spent eating as many fries as physically possible, but Baekhyun doesn't seem to care. He probably understands that Jongin is busy, and he's most likely busy himself.
He angles his phone away from Chanyeol in order to tap out his reply. It's a little redundant, Chanyeol is immersed in his left swiping and paying no attention to Jongin and his text messages.
To: Baekhyun
Just tell me where and when
He presses send, and Chanyeol cheers, startling him.
“We matched!” Chanyeol’s phone is pushed under Jongin’s nose once more, the screen displaying that Chanyeol and the Kyungsoo lookalike had indeed swiped right on each other's profiles.
“Congrats bro,” Jongin says. He still doesn't point out her resemblance to Chanyeol’s ex.
“Maybe you should download Tinder,” Chanyeol says, “Judge dumb profiles with me.”
“I'll pass,” Jongin shrugs. He's never been interested in dating apps, and never has the time to date. He's making time to see Baekhyun, however, and he doesn't want to stop and think of the implications.
“Hey,” Jongin pauses for a moment, trying to word his next question carefully, “You remember Baekhyun?”
Chanyeol’s reaction is immediate; he stiffens, pausing his movements. His eyes remain on his phone, reading and rereading the profile of a person that Jongin knows he's going to swipe left on.
“Yeah,” Chanyeol swallows, “I remember him. Why?”
He's so morose. Jongin automatically feels guilty for bringing the topic up. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo were almost inseparable, and bringing up the former undoubtedly reopened some of the wounds caused by the latter.
“I just---” Jongin sighs, “I saw something today that reminded me of him.”
“Why’d you have to bring it up?” Chanyeol’s phone auto locks due to inactivity. He keeps staring at the screen, “You know I--”
“Yeah I know,” Jongin replies, wrapping an arm around Chanyeol’s shoulder in an attempt to offer some form of comfort. It was stupid for Jongin to talk about Baekhyun, “Sorry.”
“I thought I'd be over him by now,” Honestly, so did Jongin. Five years is a long time to pine over your ex, but Chanyeol hasn't exactly tried to move on. He'll hook up with people he meets on Tinder, on occasion, but ultimately, no one ever sticks around, “Why can't I get over him?”
“Maybe Tinder Cutie will help?” Jongin prompts, trying to change the subject, “Why don't you send her a message?”
“Good idea,” Chanyeol’s smile is small and sad, but it's a smile none the less.
As Chanyeol unlocks his phone and begins his conversation with the Tinder girl, Jongin has time to think.
If he meets up with Baekhyun, and continues to do so, Chanyeol will be ridiculously hurt and betrayed if he ever finds out. He should cancel their café date, should delete Baekhyun’s number and never see him again.
But Baekhyun’s got puppydog eyes and Jongin is weak; just imagining the crestfallen look on his face if Jongin were to cancel last minute has him reconsidering his doubts.
It's all going to blow up in his face, eventually. Jongin just hopes that Chanyeol finally gets over Kyungsoo before that point, it might make the reveal a little easier, the betrayal a little less harsh.
Jongin hopes, but he's not holding his breath.
------
“So,” Jongin starts, quite unsure what to say. He and Baekhyun have a cosy seat in a cute cafe, pastel colour scheme and mismatched furniture, handwritten menus and covered in trinkets. Jongin loves it already, and they haven't even ordered, “This place is--”
“Cute,” Baekhyun has his elbows resting on the table, chin propped up on his hands. His eyes scan the café’s interior, before landing on Jongin, “This place is cute.”
“Yeah,” Baekhyun’s hair blends into the pastel pink wall behind him, “It's cute.”
“I've heard they make a great Ruben,” He suggests, motioning towards the menu lying in front of them, “But I'm wondering if they can make this a little less awkward.”
“Sorry,” Jongin replies sheepishly, “I'm making things weird, aren't I?”
“A little,” Baekhyun smiles, all teeth. He seems more amused by the awkward tension rather than annoyed by it, he nudges Jongin’s ankle under the table with the tip of his sneaker. He remembers that Jongin doesn't like having his feet touched, even through shoes, something even Chanyeol forgets on occasion, “But that's okay.”
“I don't think Chanyeol would approve of,” Jongin gestures between them, “This.”
“Chanyeol can suck my dick,” Baekhyun deadpans. He nudges Jongin’s ankle again, a little softer this time, more of a caress. Byun Baekhyun is playing footsie with him under the table at a pastel themed café. Jongin isn't sure what to think, but he doesn't hate it.
“He'd rather suck--” Jongin stops himself. He was tempted to mention Kyungsoo, but their tumultuous relationship is hardly an appropriate punchline. Besides, he doesn't want to talk about them, doesn't want his nice day off spent talking about how his friend can't or won't move on.
“I say we go the Ruben,” Baekhyun knows what Jongin nearly said, understands why he stopped himself, “And I'm not sure about you, but I'm thinking a milkshake.”
Baekhyun eases the awkward situation into free-flowing conversation, he talks about his work, asks about Jongin’s. He laughs when Jongin tells him about his misadventures with Sehun in the pharmacy, offers sympathetic hums when prompted, and is otherwise the best company Jongin’s had in a long time.
He looks adorable as he eats his sandwich, squirming excitedly as the cheese stretches to the length of his arm and longer, before finally snapping and coming to rest on his chin.
Jongin’s face hurts from smiling.
------
One café becomes many, and Jongin finds himself spending his lunch breaks searching for new establishments to try, excitedly texting Baekhyun with the shortlisted candidates.
Baekhyun replies with emojis and selfies; he's had to turn auto display off, there's been too many close calls where Baekhyun will send him a good night message, complete with a silly photo of himself going through his nightly routine--- brushing his teeth, using a face mask, or just snuggled under his blankets--- close calls where Jongin’s phone lies within reach of Chanyeol, and Baekhyun’s smiling face has appeared on the screen.
Jongin starts sending his own in reply, they're a little more boring, but Baekhyun seems to appreciate the gesture. He even sets a selfie Jongin takes in the breakroom at his work as his phone’s wallpaper. It's hardly a spectacular photo; Jongin’s pouting at the camera grumpily-- probably because of customers, possibly Sehun--- he doesn't remember why. He's just flattered that Baekhyun found the photo appealing enough to display on his phone, that his face is something that Baekhyun wants to see when he unlocks the device, or checks the time.
Jongin would return the favour, but he can't. Not while he's still living with Chanyeol. Baekhyun understands.
They explore the city like true foodies, finding hidden restaurants, renowned food trucks and hipster cafés; anything that comes with a recommendation, really.
It's less about the food, and more about the adventure; finding something new, finding something together. Jongin barely remembers the places they visit, the interiors all melding together in his memory, but he can vividly recall Baekhyun at each and every place. Jongin can't recall the flavour of his cheesecake at the fourth café, but he knows what Baekhyun looked like when he took a bite of his own; pleasantly surprised, excited. Eyes lighting up as the adventurous option of a vegan cheesecake turned out to be a good idea.
They're not so much outings as they are dates.
Baekhyun is beautiful, charming, a whole plethora of adjectives that Jongin interchanges at whim. They link ankles under tables, hide smiles behind coffee cups, allow heated gazes to linger on exposed collarbones.
Jongin knows he's in too deep when he takes the initiative to hold Baekhyun’s hand on top of their shared table, running his thumb over Baekhyun’s knuckles and playing with his fingers. Baekhyun's hands are as beautiful as the rest of him.
“You have nice hands,” Jongin says, brain to mouth filter temporarily removed, “I mean, all of you is nice, but I like your hands.”
“I'm good with my hands,” Baekhyun replies, dragging two fingertips along Jongin’s thumb. His words, his motions, they're almost suggestive. Baekhyun sinks his teeth into his lower lip and regards Jongin curiously; he's testing the waters, again. Seeing what Jongin is comfortable with. It's almost as if---
“I mean, you were on the receiving end of one of my signature facials,” Baekhyun winks obnoxiously, destroying the mood. He withdraws his hand from where Jongin holds it, fingers drumming nervous patterns on wood, “So you would know.”
“Yeah,” Jongin’s hand feels cold, empty. He’d like nothing more than to reach across the table and take his hand again. He doesn't know why, Jongin doesn’t feel uncomfortable, or out of his depth, but he craves the kind of comfort and intimacy that Baekhyun provides.
He's not the most physically affectionate person, not by any means. He doesn't cling like Chanyeol and Sehun; two undoubtedly tactile people, unable to keep their hands to themselves, even innocently.
But thoughts of Baekhyun become thoughts and urges, to touch and to hold, to be with him constantly. It's terrifying and overwhelming, and Jongin is drowning again.
Baekhyun launches into a rant about the spa, his customers, the beauty therapists who work for him. He's animated and lively, each anecdote commanding Jongin’s full attention. Baekhyun distracts him, pulls him to the surface with his words, keeps his head above the proverbial water.
Jongin allows himself the distraction. He's not quite ready to dwell on his thoughts, or their implications.
Not yet.
------
“I'm looking for some advice on vitamins,” Jongin is obsessively disinfecting the counter when the customer approaches him. He groans internally, a child kept sneezing on the counter as her mother purchased cold and flu medication; Jongin has seen the latest strain of the illness and it doesn't look like a fun time. He hopes he's killed enough germs to avoid infection, “Of course, if you're able to help me?”
“Of course,” Jongin echoes, he hasn't looked at the customer, yet. He stashes the paper towels and disinfectant spray in the drawer beneath the cash register, “What were you looking---”
Chanyeol once described Jongdae’s smile as “curly”. It's only now that Jongin sees what he means, as he observes the way Jongdae’s lips curl into a smile. Jongin himself must look like the human embodiment of the shocked-face emoji, because suddenly Jongdae is laughing at him. It catches Sehun’s attention, and he shoots Jongin a questioning glance.
“Long time no see,” Jongin’s been running into a lot of old friends recently. He's not exactly running from the past, not like Chanyeol, but it keeps catching up with him none the less.
“No kidding,” Jongdae is all smiles, and from Jongin’s experience, it's never a good thing.
“Why are you here?” If Facebook is to be believed, Jongdae lives in a nice apartment on the other side of the city. There's dozens of pharmacies in between his house and Jongin’s work, so there should be no reason for Jongdae to spontaneously arrive at Jongin’s workplace. And as much as it pains him to admit, Jongin’s pharmacy is hardly the best; there's bigger, cheaper establishments, and a lot of them closer to Jongdae.
“I was in the area,” Jongdae shrugs, “Saw Baekhyun, and remembered that I was out of vitamins.”
Baekhyun. Of course.
“He recommended this place, actually,” Jongdae continues. Sehun tries to look inconspicuous as he starts rearranging the shelves behind Jongin’s register. He fails miserably, but neither Jongin nor Jongdae points it out, “Said the customer service is excellent.”
“Did he, now?” Baekhyun hasn't been into Jongin’s work, at least, not while Jongin’s on shift. And considering Jongin’s on shift for most of the opening hours, it would have been hard to miss him.
“I think I understand, now,” Jongdae says. He was never this cryptic, not when he and Jongin were close. Time changes some people, after all, “What Baekhyun was talking about.”
“I haven't served you, yet,” Jongin replies, puzzled. They're still standing at the counter, speaking in riddles as Sehun tries to eavesdrop.
“You're seeing Baekhyun, aren't you,” It's not a question. Jongin is missing something.
“Yeah, once a week?” Jongin rounds the counter, leading Jongdae to the wall of vitamins lining the edge of the store. Something to keep him from fidgeting, to keep their conversation from curious ears, “We get food and talk. It’s pretty great.”
“Does Chanyeol know?” Jongdae prompts. He doesn't ask for Jongin’s opinion on his vitamins, grabbing a few select jars from the wall. He didn't need help, he knows exactly what he's getting; down to the brand, dosage, added benefits.
“No,” Jongin says after a moment, “No he doesn't.”
“Do you know?” Jongdae pushes again, more riddles.
“Do I know what?” Jongin is utterly puzzled, “I know I'm seeing Baekhyun.”
“Are you sure?” Jongdae leads them this time, evidently happy with his items, he prompts Jongin to finalize the sale. Sehun is still “rearranging” the shelves.
“Yes?” Jongin’s hands work on autopilot, entering his staff code, scanning Jongdae’s vitamins. His mind is elsewhere, preoccupied with more questions than answers.
“Here,” Jongdae hands a business card to Jongin as well as his credit card. It's for a fancy real estate agency, a household name. The kind of place that can afford high budget television advertising. Jongdae still looks the same, but in a sense he's unrecognizable; becoming a real estate agent is a far cry from the teacher Jongdae wanted to be, back when they were friends. Jongin pockets the card wordlessly, “Don't be a stranger.”
Jongin doesn't reply, but Jongdae’s smile doesn't falter. He leaves the store after a cheery thank you and a wave.
“So,” Sehun stops pretending to clean shelves in order to confront Jongin, waiting an appropriate length of time before starting the conversation, “He was cute.”
“Straight,” Jongin sighs, thumbing nervously at the card in his pocket, “You've got more of a chance with Yixing, if I'm honest.”
“You think?” Sehun replies excitedly, before collecting himself, “I mean, why do you say that, has he said---”
“You've got no chance with Jongdae,” He says, biting back a smile, “But you've got next to no chance with Yixing.”
“Goddamn it, Jongin!” Sehun growls, throwing a scrunched up ball of paper towels in his direction. They're covered in disinfectant and dust, so Jongin ducks out of the way accordingly.
“Boys,” Junmyeon’s voice echoes from behind the dispensary wall, “No fighting on the floor.”
“Sorry,” They mumble, returning to their tasks. Jongin picks up Sehun’s discarded roll of paper towels, determined to claim the job before he's designated a worse task, like sorting scripts.
“Sehun,” Junmyeon continues, “If you can work with Yixing without flirting, then you're welcome to help him. He'd appreciate a hand.”
“He said hand, not handjob,” Minseok supplies, walking into the dispensary from the back room, arms piled high with Webster Packs.
“I hate you all,” Sehun mutters, but he practically runs to the storeroom, tripping over his feet in his haste.
“Don't tell Sehun I said this,” Minseok whispers, “But Yixing would totally appreciate a hand job.”
Jongin laughs.
He tries not to think of Baekhyun’s hands.
this story is continued.
part ii