001 - 005; infinite fic challenge
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July 2012: i've been pretty unhappy with my recent writing, so i decided to try out the 100 fic challenge just as a way to force myself to practice and hopefully improve. going in order because why the heck not. i'll be posting every time i finish five (:
001. student/teacher; woohyun/sunggyu;727 words; g
Ever since he had first told them he was considering taking cooking lessons, Sunggyu’s friends had made fun of him nonstop. They bought him a frilly pink apron with white polka dots, started calling him Mama Gyu, and even made bets on how long it would take him to get kicked out for catching something on fire.
Sunggyu just gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the teasing, because he had gotten to the point of literally becoming a starving university student; he was so sick of ramyeon and fast food that even looking at it repulsed him. Sunggyu was determined to learn how to cook, and he was also determined that nothing would stop him.
His determination lasted him all the way to the first day of class, and then disappeared faster than Sungyeol’s residence contract after he had tried to set off a smoke bomb in the dorms.
To start with, even though Sunggyu had arrived a good ten minutes early there were already several people sitting around. They all looked up when he came in, and then proceeded to stare at him as he awkwardly shuffled to the furthest table away from the main desk. This was due to the second main reason Sunggyu suddenly wanted to run: he was literally the only guy in the room. Even after he had sat down and pulled out his phone to pretend to check his text messages a couple girls continued to constantly glance over at him and giggle.
With each new click of the opening door Sunggyu held his breath, watching the person entering out of the corner of his eye and then letting out a sigh when they turned out to be yet another girl. If Sunggyu was remembering the sign up sheet correctly, there were a total of sixteen people in the class. And so far only one other male had arrived - and had promptly sat next to a girl he was clearly already friends with, on the opposite side of the room from Sunggyu’s self-imposed exile.
[i feel like im stuck in a manga or smtg] Sunggyu eventually texted to Howon in desperation. [im srsly completely surrounded by girls. its so awkward!! ㅠㅠ]
[idk that doesnt sound too bad to me] Howon texted back and Sunggyu scowled at the message before tapping back out to his home screen. He glared at the time written at the top of the screen in neat white numbers. 16:05. Class was supposed to start five minutes before, but the teacher was still nowhere to be seen. Sunggyu sighed and slouched down farther in his seat, idly checking his email for about the tenth time.
A minute later the door practically slammed open and there was a flurry of motion as someone made their way to the front of the room and suddenly Sunggyu thought he knew the main reason the gender balance in the class was so skewed.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” the guy who was apparently their teacher hastily apologized as he set down his bag and turned to face the classroom. “My bus got delayed”
There was an immediate chorus of “don’t worry about it” and “that’s ok!” from the female population in the room, and then what sounded like a collective happy sigh as their instructor flashed a million-watt smile. Sunggyu didn’t respond at all, too caught up on the fact that this guy was actually, legitimately, wearing a bowtie, and a pair of ridiculously oversized and obviously fake glasses, and did he seriously have a perm?
“Well then, my name’s Nam Woohyun and I’ll be your teacher for this course.”
It sounded like a couple people said “we already know” and Woohyun laughed, reaching down to pull some notes out of his bag. Sunggyu glanced between Woohyun and the girls giving him doe eyes and wondered what exactly the girls were seeing that made them go so crazy. Honestly, in Sunggyu’s opinion Woohyun didn’t really seem like anything special.
Then Woohyun finished shuffling his papers and looked straight at Sunggyu and gave another of his blinding smiles, and suddenly Sunggyu felt like he could sympathize with all the star-struck girls in the room. Woohyun turned his gaze back to the rest of the classroom and Sunggyu let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Now, let’s get started, shall we?”
002. letters; sungyeol/hoya; 288 words; pg
“YEOL WUZ HERE”
Sungyeol places the brightly colored letters in order with great concentration, shoving all the other alphabet magnets aside to the edges of Howon’s mini-fridge.
“Seriously?” Howon asks, leaning over the edge of his bed to get a better look at Sungyeol’s handiwork. “Could you have possibly picked something more cliché than that?”
Sungyeol glances up from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor of Howon’s dorm and sighs dramatically.
“Is there even a point in putting alphabet magnets on your fridge other than for your friends to write that they were here?” Sungyeol’s tone is patronizing, so Howon ignores him and rolls back over to where his biology textbook is sitting on his pillow.
There’s the telltale sound of Sungyeol peeling and re-sticking the magnets as Howon returns to highlighting a passage about the respiratory system of insects. He ignores Sungyeol’s actions until the other lets out a “ha!” of satisfaction with his work.
Howon cranes his neck to see the fridge and stares blankly at the new message before giving Sungyeol an unimpressed look.
“HOYA LUVS PEEN”
There’s a smug look on Sungyeol’s face and he’s obviously quite proud of himself. He sits there in his striped t-shirt and cardigan and skinny jeans and mismatched socks, hair that should have been cut about a month ago flopping over his eyes, and grins brightly up at Howon. Howon snorts.
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” Howon says calmly, once again turning back to his studying. Sungyeol protests indignantly and loudly about the genius of his work for about a minute before starting to shuffle the letters around once more.
When they leave for dinner ten minutes later, the magnets on the fridge are left spelling “HOYA N YEOL 4EVAR”
003. chocolate; myungsoo/sungjong; 522 words; g; coffee shop!au
“Crap!”
“Are the pumps acting up again?” Myungsoo asks without looking up from the change he’s pulling out of the cash register drawer. “Here you go,” he says, handing the coins to the girl waiting on the other side of the counter. “Your mocha will be ready in a few minutes.”
He turns towards where the earlier exclamation had come from and finds his coworker Sungjong standing next to the flavor pumps, his face, shirt, trademark green apron, the cup he’s holding, and the countertop all splattered with chocolate syrup.
“I think acting up would be an understatement,” Sungjong comments sardonically. He uses his arm to try to wipe some of the chocolate off his face, but only succeeds in smearing it around more.
“At least you’re wearing a dark colored shirt today?” Myungsoo offers, then flinches backwards with a laugh as Sungjong pretends to punch him.
“Thanks for the sympathy,” Sungjong grumbles, handing the paper cup over to Myungsoo so he can copy the order onto a new one that isn’t drenched in chocolate. Grabbing a clean rag from over by the sink, Sungjong starts to mop up the counter.
“It’s alright, I’ve got it,” Myungsoo says when he finishes writing, tossing the ruined cup in the trash and taking the rag from Sungjong. “You should go clean up.”
Sungjong lets go of the cloth and nods, heading off to the back room. While Myungsoo finishes remaking the mocha he can hear Sungjong in the back, using damp paper towels in an attempt to get as much chocolate off himself as possible. Myungsoo pops the white plastic lid on and slides the drink across the counter with his best customer service smile and an apology for the wait.
After the girl leaves, Myungsoo scans the shop for other customers before ducking into the back room. Sungjong is standing at the sink, scrubbing at the collar of his shirt with a paper towel and scowling.
“I told Sunggyu hyung that we needed new pumps. Everyone’s been complaining about them for like the past month,” Sungjong complains, violently throwing the towel in the trash and yanking another one out of the dispenser. “But no -” he draws the word out dramatically and rolls his eyes, “- he went and got a new blender instead. The old blender wasn’t even broken!”
“Is it really that big of a deal?” Myungsoo has an amused smirk on his face so Sungjong shoots him a glare as he turns off the tap and wrings out his towel.
“Of course not, I’m just annoyed.” Sungjong glances down at his clothes, searching for any more streaks of chocolate syrup.
Laughing, Myungsoo leans in close and runs his thumb over Sungjong’s cheek.
“You missed a spot,” Myungsoo says teasingly. Sungjong shoves the wet paper towel in his face.
“You’re annoying too,” Sungjong huffs, puffing his cheeks cutely. “Get back out to the counter before a customer comes.”
“Ok, ok, fine.” Myungsoo backs out of the room, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He’s smirking again, so Sungjong throws the wadded up paper towel at him. Just for good measure.
004. last time; dongwoo/hoya; 720 words; g
Dongwoo runs his fingers lightly over the wall, a small smile playing across his lips. The last time he’d been here the plaster had been cracked and peeling, and there had been a hole where his fingers are now. He presses harder, savoring the feeling of the smooth, cool paint.
He looks around the rest of the lobby area he’s in, slowly absorbing the details. There are some chairs scattered around, a slightly battered sofa, and even a desk. The recently painted walls are covered in various colorful posters, and one wall is even done up with a graffiti-style mural of breakdancers.
Two different dance studios are connected to the lobby, and although the lights are off in one, the other is well lit and there’s booming hip hop music coming from inside. When they had first started out four years before, just him and Howon trying to find a place to start living out their shared dream of teaching dance, they had only been able to rent out one of the studios for a couple hours each week. Now it was obvious that the same person owned both rooms, and there was even a sign above the front door declaring the studios to be “Hoya Dance School.”
Dongwoo walks over to the lit studio and knocks on the doorframe loud enough to be heard over the music. The person inside stops mid-turn to stare at him before quickly reaching into his pocket and using a remote control to shut off the music.
“Hi,” Dongwoo says, shuffling inside the room and giving a small wave.
“Hyung?” The dancer asks. He takes a hesitant step towards Dongwoo. “You’re back?”
“I’m back,” Dongwoo affirms with a nod and flaps his arms awkwardly at his sides. His embarrassed smile makes his eyes nearly disappear. “Did you miss me, Howon-ah?”
Howon knocks into him so hard that Dongwoo is thrown off balance, stumbling backwards a few steps. Dongwoo lets out a quiet oof as the air is knocked from his lungs, his eyes widening in shock. Howon has never been much of hug person - he’s more of a causal-arm-around-the-shoulders guy - but right now his arms are wrapped around Dongwoo so tightly that the elder can barely breathe.
It’s such a dramatic contrast to the last time Dongwoo had been here, when he had been the one holding onto Howon as if his life had depended on it. Because the last time he’d been here Dongwoo’s father had become so sick that he could no longer work and Dongwoo had needed to accept the internship offer in Japan because suddenly he had to support his entire family and he simply couldn’t afford to continue as a dance teacher anymore because there were so many bills and there was never enough money and-
At that time Howon had sat with his back against the mirror while Dongwoo cried into his shoulder, rubbing light circles against his back and murmuring, “It’s ok, everything will be alright,” over and over as if saying it enough times could make it true. Dongwoo had just continued to sob, digging his fingers into the fabric of Howon’s shirt desperately as he felt his dreams slip away between the cracks in the dusty hardwood floor.
But now when Dongwoo looks up it’s Howon who has tears in his eyes. Dongwoo momentarily wonders if he’s imagining things, because although he’s known Howon for years he can count the number of times he’s seen the younger cry on one hand. Even after Dongwoo blinks, though, the tears are still there, making Howon’s eyes shine under the harsh studio lights, and all at once Dongwoo can feel his own throat tightening.
Howon finally pulls away, blinking rapidly, and punches Dongwoo lightly in the shoulder.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” he demands. “I would have come to pick you up at the airport.”
“I wanted to surprise you.” Dongwoo grins, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “So, surprise?”
Howon cries in earnest this time, a loud sob escaping as he pulls Dongwoo into another rib-bruising hug.
“I missed you so much,” Howon chokes out. “I really, really missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Dongwoo replies as his own tears start to fall and he clings back to Howon just as tightly.
005. melancholy; woohyun/hoya; 569 words; g; coffee shop!au
With a sigh Howon grabbed the mop and headed out to clean up the floor for the third time in the two hours since his shift had started. Rainy days were good for business in the coffee shop where Howon worked, but they were a pain in the ass for employees who had to mop up after all the water and mud that was dragged inside.
There was a lull in customers so Howon took his time, starting over by the counter where his coworker Woohyun was using rolls of coins to refill the change in the cash register and working his way over towards the door. Upon reaching the entryway he briefly leaned on his mop and stared out into the downpour beyond the door. Rain overflowed from the awning above the entrance and was coming down in torrents, almost completely obscuring the view of the street.
Howon slid into a nearby chair and rested the mop against the table. Sighing again, he ran a hand through his hair. Even with their air conditioner, the humidity and heat had plastered his bangs against his forehead.
“Summer sucks,” he mumbled, staring bleakly at the distorted view out the window.
“Mmm,” Woohyun agreed from over behind the register. He rested his elbows on the counter and propped his face up in his hands. “I don’t like when it rains so much like this, because I start to feel so melancholy all the time.”
“Wow, melancholy? That’s a pretty big word for you,” Howon joked with an easy grin.
“Shut up,” Woohyun shot back good-naturedly. “All I want to do on days like this is sit in front of a fan and eat ice cream. Or sleep, that works too.”
“I dunno,” Howon said, reaching out to grab the mop handle as it almost fell over. “For me, when it rains for a long time and I can’t go outside I start to get all this built up energy and I just really want to dance or something.”
Woohyun didn’t respond and Howon glanced over at him suspiciously, sensing that something was up. There was a mischievous twinkle in Woohyun’s eyes as he leaned farther over the counter.
“Wanna dance, then?” he asked with a conspiratorial smile.
“Wha-” Howon started to say, but Woohyun was already headed to the back room.
Technically they were only allowed to play the company-issued soundtrack of boring jazzy music in the shop. But also technically their manager was out of town for two weeks, and none of the other employees would tattle if they happened to stop by.
Woohyun grabbed the jack they were allowed to use to plug into their own music to listen to while cleaning up after closing and hooked it up to his iPod. He clicked into a playlist of popular girl group songs and turned up the volume.
When Woohyun reemerged from the back room Howon was staring at him in surprise. Woohyun gave an exaggerated wink as A Pink blasted through the speakers.
“Well, you said you wanted to dance,” Woohyun explained, grabbing the mop from Howon. “So let’s dance.”
They had a dance off to girl group songs until a group of customers came in, and then even managed to involve them as well. After that they continued their dance party between customers, only stopping when they were out of breath and laughing too hard to continue.
July 2012: i've been pretty unhappy with my recent writing, so i decided to try out the 100 fic challenge just as a way to force myself to practice and hopefully improve. going in order because why the heck not. i'll be posting every time i finish five (:
001. student/teacher; woohyun/sunggyu;727 words; g
Ever since he had first told them he was considering taking cooking lessons, Sunggyu’s friends had made fun of him nonstop. They bought him a frilly pink apron with white polka dots, started calling him Mama Gyu, and even made bets on how long it would take him to get kicked out for catching something on fire.
Sunggyu just gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the teasing, because he had gotten to the point of literally becoming a starving university student; he was so sick of ramyeon and fast food that even looking at it repulsed him. Sunggyu was determined to learn how to cook, and he was also determined that nothing would stop him.
His determination lasted him all the way to the first day of class, and then disappeared faster than Sungyeol’s residence contract after he had tried to set off a smoke bomb in the dorms.
To start with, even though Sunggyu had arrived a good ten minutes early there were already several people sitting around. They all looked up when he came in, and then proceeded to stare at him as he awkwardly shuffled to the furthest table away from the main desk. This was due to the second main reason Sunggyu suddenly wanted to run: he was literally the only guy in the room. Even after he had sat down and pulled out his phone to pretend to check his text messages a couple girls continued to constantly glance over at him and giggle.
With each new click of the opening door Sunggyu held his breath, watching the person entering out of the corner of his eye and then letting out a sigh when they turned out to be yet another girl. If Sunggyu was remembering the sign up sheet correctly, there were a total of sixteen people in the class. And so far only one other male had arrived - and had promptly sat next to a girl he was clearly already friends with, on the opposite side of the room from Sunggyu’s self-imposed exile.
[i feel like im stuck in a manga or smtg] Sunggyu eventually texted to Howon in desperation. [im srsly completely surrounded by girls. its so awkward!! ㅠㅠ]
[idk that doesnt sound too bad to me] Howon texted back and Sunggyu scowled at the message before tapping back out to his home screen. He glared at the time written at the top of the screen in neat white numbers. 16:05. Class was supposed to start five minutes before, but the teacher was still nowhere to be seen. Sunggyu sighed and slouched down farther in his seat, idly checking his email for about the tenth time.
A minute later the door practically slammed open and there was a flurry of motion as someone made their way to the front of the room and suddenly Sunggyu thought he knew the main reason the gender balance in the class was so skewed.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” the guy who was apparently their teacher hastily apologized as he set down his bag and turned to face the classroom. “My bus got delayed”
There was an immediate chorus of “don’t worry about it” and “that’s ok!” from the female population in the room, and then what sounded like a collective happy sigh as their instructor flashed a million-watt smile. Sunggyu didn’t respond at all, too caught up on the fact that this guy was actually, legitimately, wearing a bowtie, and a pair of ridiculously oversized and obviously fake glasses, and did he seriously have a perm?
“Well then, my name’s Nam Woohyun and I’ll be your teacher for this course.”
It sounded like a couple people said “we already know” and Woohyun laughed, reaching down to pull some notes out of his bag. Sunggyu glanced between Woohyun and the girls giving him doe eyes and wondered what exactly the girls were seeing that made them go so crazy. Honestly, in Sunggyu’s opinion Woohyun didn’t really seem like anything special.
Then Woohyun finished shuffling his papers and looked straight at Sunggyu and gave another of his blinding smiles, and suddenly Sunggyu felt like he could sympathize with all the star-struck girls in the room. Woohyun turned his gaze back to the rest of the classroom and Sunggyu let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Now, let’s get started, shall we?”
002. letters; sungyeol/hoya; 288 words; pg
“YEOL WUZ HERE”
Sungyeol places the brightly colored letters in order with great concentration, shoving all the other alphabet magnets aside to the edges of Howon’s mini-fridge.
“Seriously?” Howon asks, leaning over the edge of his bed to get a better look at Sungyeol’s handiwork. “Could you have possibly picked something more cliché than that?”
Sungyeol glances up from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor of Howon’s dorm and sighs dramatically.
“Is there even a point in putting alphabet magnets on your fridge other than for your friends to write that they were here?” Sungyeol’s tone is patronizing, so Howon ignores him and rolls back over to where his biology textbook is sitting on his pillow.
There’s the telltale sound of Sungyeol peeling and re-sticking the magnets as Howon returns to highlighting a passage about the respiratory system of insects. He ignores Sungyeol’s actions until the other lets out a “ha!” of satisfaction with his work.
Howon cranes his neck to see the fridge and stares blankly at the new message before giving Sungyeol an unimpressed look.
“HOYA LUVS PEEN”
There’s a smug look on Sungyeol’s face and he’s obviously quite proud of himself. He sits there in his striped t-shirt and cardigan and skinny jeans and mismatched socks, hair that should have been cut about a month ago flopping over his eyes, and grins brightly up at Howon. Howon snorts.
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” Howon says calmly, once again turning back to his studying. Sungyeol protests indignantly and loudly about the genius of his work for about a minute before starting to shuffle the letters around once more.
When they leave for dinner ten minutes later, the magnets on the fridge are left spelling “HOYA N YEOL 4EVAR”
003. chocolate; myungsoo/sungjong; 522 words; g; coffee shop!au
“Crap!”
“Are the pumps acting up again?” Myungsoo asks without looking up from the change he’s pulling out of the cash register drawer. “Here you go,” he says, handing the coins to the girl waiting on the other side of the counter. “Your mocha will be ready in a few minutes.”
He turns towards where the earlier exclamation had come from and finds his coworker Sungjong standing next to the flavor pumps, his face, shirt, trademark green apron, the cup he’s holding, and the countertop all splattered with chocolate syrup.
“I think acting up would be an understatement,” Sungjong comments sardonically. He uses his arm to try to wipe some of the chocolate off his face, but only succeeds in smearing it around more.
“At least you’re wearing a dark colored shirt today?” Myungsoo offers, then flinches backwards with a laugh as Sungjong pretends to punch him.
“Thanks for the sympathy,” Sungjong grumbles, handing the paper cup over to Myungsoo so he can copy the order onto a new one that isn’t drenched in chocolate. Grabbing a clean rag from over by the sink, Sungjong starts to mop up the counter.
“It’s alright, I’ve got it,” Myungsoo says when he finishes writing, tossing the ruined cup in the trash and taking the rag from Sungjong. “You should go clean up.”
Sungjong lets go of the cloth and nods, heading off to the back room. While Myungsoo finishes remaking the mocha he can hear Sungjong in the back, using damp paper towels in an attempt to get as much chocolate off himself as possible. Myungsoo pops the white plastic lid on and slides the drink across the counter with his best customer service smile and an apology for the wait.
After the girl leaves, Myungsoo scans the shop for other customers before ducking into the back room. Sungjong is standing at the sink, scrubbing at the collar of his shirt with a paper towel and scowling.
“I told Sunggyu hyung that we needed new pumps. Everyone’s been complaining about them for like the past month,” Sungjong complains, violently throwing the towel in the trash and yanking another one out of the dispenser. “But no -” he draws the word out dramatically and rolls his eyes, “- he went and got a new blender instead. The old blender wasn’t even broken!”
“Is it really that big of a deal?” Myungsoo has an amused smirk on his face so Sungjong shoots him a glare as he turns off the tap and wrings out his towel.
“Of course not, I’m just annoyed.” Sungjong glances down at his clothes, searching for any more streaks of chocolate syrup.
Laughing, Myungsoo leans in close and runs his thumb over Sungjong’s cheek.
“You missed a spot,” Myungsoo says teasingly. Sungjong shoves the wet paper towel in his face.
“You’re annoying too,” Sungjong huffs, puffing his cheeks cutely. “Get back out to the counter before a customer comes.”
“Ok, ok, fine.” Myungsoo backs out of the room, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He’s smirking again, so Sungjong throws the wadded up paper towel at him. Just for good measure.
004. last time; dongwoo/hoya; 720 words; g
Dongwoo runs his fingers lightly over the wall, a small smile playing across his lips. The last time he’d been here the plaster had been cracked and peeling, and there had been a hole where his fingers are now. He presses harder, savoring the feeling of the smooth, cool paint.
He looks around the rest of the lobby area he’s in, slowly absorbing the details. There are some chairs scattered around, a slightly battered sofa, and even a desk. The recently painted walls are covered in various colorful posters, and one wall is even done up with a graffiti-style mural of breakdancers.
Two different dance studios are connected to the lobby, and although the lights are off in one, the other is well lit and there’s booming hip hop music coming from inside. When they had first started out four years before, just him and Howon trying to find a place to start living out their shared dream of teaching dance, they had only been able to rent out one of the studios for a couple hours each week. Now it was obvious that the same person owned both rooms, and there was even a sign above the front door declaring the studios to be “Hoya Dance School.”
Dongwoo walks over to the lit studio and knocks on the doorframe loud enough to be heard over the music. The person inside stops mid-turn to stare at him before quickly reaching into his pocket and using a remote control to shut off the music.
“Hi,” Dongwoo says, shuffling inside the room and giving a small wave.
“Hyung?” The dancer asks. He takes a hesitant step towards Dongwoo. “You’re back?”
“I’m back,” Dongwoo affirms with a nod and flaps his arms awkwardly at his sides. His embarrassed smile makes his eyes nearly disappear. “Did you miss me, Howon-ah?”
Howon knocks into him so hard that Dongwoo is thrown off balance, stumbling backwards a few steps. Dongwoo lets out a quiet oof as the air is knocked from his lungs, his eyes widening in shock. Howon has never been much of hug person - he’s more of a causal-arm-around-the-shoulders guy - but right now his arms are wrapped around Dongwoo so tightly that the elder can barely breathe.
It’s such a dramatic contrast to the last time Dongwoo had been here, when he had been the one holding onto Howon as if his life had depended on it. Because the last time he’d been here Dongwoo’s father had become so sick that he could no longer work and Dongwoo had needed to accept the internship offer in Japan because suddenly he had to support his entire family and he simply couldn’t afford to continue as a dance teacher anymore because there were so many bills and there was never enough money and-
At that time Howon had sat with his back against the mirror while Dongwoo cried into his shoulder, rubbing light circles against his back and murmuring, “It’s ok, everything will be alright,” over and over as if saying it enough times could make it true. Dongwoo had just continued to sob, digging his fingers into the fabric of Howon’s shirt desperately as he felt his dreams slip away between the cracks in the dusty hardwood floor.
But now when Dongwoo looks up it’s Howon who has tears in his eyes. Dongwoo momentarily wonders if he’s imagining things, because although he’s known Howon for years he can count the number of times he’s seen the younger cry on one hand. Even after Dongwoo blinks, though, the tears are still there, making Howon’s eyes shine under the harsh studio lights, and all at once Dongwoo can feel his own throat tightening.
Howon finally pulls away, blinking rapidly, and punches Dongwoo lightly in the shoulder.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” he demands. “I would have come to pick you up at the airport.”
“I wanted to surprise you.” Dongwoo grins, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “So, surprise?”
Howon cries in earnest this time, a loud sob escaping as he pulls Dongwoo into another rib-bruising hug.
“I missed you so much,” Howon chokes out. “I really, really missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Dongwoo replies as his own tears start to fall and he clings back to Howon just as tightly.
005. melancholy; woohyun/hoya; 569 words; g; coffee shop!au
With a sigh Howon grabbed the mop and headed out to clean up the floor for the third time in the two hours since his shift had started. Rainy days were good for business in the coffee shop where Howon worked, but they were a pain in the ass for employees who had to mop up after all the water and mud that was dragged inside.
There was a lull in customers so Howon took his time, starting over by the counter where his coworker Woohyun was using rolls of coins to refill the change in the cash register and working his way over towards the door. Upon reaching the entryway he briefly leaned on his mop and stared out into the downpour beyond the door. Rain overflowed from the awning above the entrance and was coming down in torrents, almost completely obscuring the view of the street.
Howon slid into a nearby chair and rested the mop against the table. Sighing again, he ran a hand through his hair. Even with their air conditioner, the humidity and heat had plastered his bangs against his forehead.
“Summer sucks,” he mumbled, staring bleakly at the distorted view out the window.
“Mmm,” Woohyun agreed from over behind the register. He rested his elbows on the counter and propped his face up in his hands. “I don’t like when it rains so much like this, because I start to feel so melancholy all the time.”
“Wow, melancholy? That’s a pretty big word for you,” Howon joked with an easy grin.
“Shut up,” Woohyun shot back good-naturedly. “All I want to do on days like this is sit in front of a fan and eat ice cream. Or sleep, that works too.”
“I dunno,” Howon said, reaching out to grab the mop handle as it almost fell over. “For me, when it rains for a long time and I can’t go outside I start to get all this built up energy and I just really want to dance or something.”
Woohyun didn’t respond and Howon glanced over at him suspiciously, sensing that something was up. There was a mischievous twinkle in Woohyun’s eyes as he leaned farther over the counter.
“Wanna dance, then?” he asked with a conspiratorial smile.
“Wha-” Howon started to say, but Woohyun was already headed to the back room.
Technically they were only allowed to play the company-issued soundtrack of boring jazzy music in the shop. But also technically their manager was out of town for two weeks, and none of the other employees would tattle if they happened to stop by.
Woohyun grabbed the jack they were allowed to use to plug into their own music to listen to while cleaning up after closing and hooked it up to his iPod. He clicked into a playlist of popular girl group songs and turned up the volume.
When Woohyun reemerged from the back room Howon was staring at him in surprise. Woohyun gave an exaggerated wink as A Pink blasted through the speakers.
“Well, you said you wanted to dance,” Woohyun explained, grabbing the mop from Howon. “So let’s dance.”
They had a dance off to girl group songs until a group of customers came in, and then even managed to involve them as well. After that they continued their dance party between customers, only stopping when they were out of breath and laughing too hard to continue.