A PLAN FOR LOVE ✓

eighteen : beomgyu

Last night Yeonjun and I got so caught up in watching the pilot of Wynonna Earp (which he loved) that it wasn’t until I walked him out to his bike that I realized we had forgotten to send a first text to Taehyun. By that point it was after midnight and Yeonjun decided it would be best to hold off.

The following morning I slide up onto my hyung’s kitchen counter, watching him put together all the ingredients for pancakes.

“So, what made you want to do this today?” I ask him.

He stops what he’s doing long enough to let out a big sigh. “Mom asked me to check on you.”

“Of course she did.” I let out a huff of air in reply. On one hand I get it, given my history, but on the other it’s like she has absolutely no faith in me. And I just told her I was busy when she texted last night! I don’t need pity invites. At least, not anymore.

“But I wanted to hang out anyway.” He shrugs, getting back to the task at hand.

Whether it was through his own volition or not, when he texted this morning to invite me over, it was impossible to turn down.
Yeonjun and I already had plans to work on what he called step 1B, which, to be honest, sounds a little bit made up, but I sent him my hyung’s address and told him to meet me here instead of my dorm. He sent me five replies asking where exactly I was sending him, but I didn’t answer a single one. It was kind of nice to watch him flounder around in the dark for once.

I wasn’t worried at all about this at first, but the more time I sit here and think about it, the more I start to panic. I’ve never actually had a friend to introduce to my brother. I just hope the two of them get along.

“Impressive,” I say, forcing myself out of my head as I watch hyung crack an egg one-handed into the big metal mixing bowl beside me.

“The ladies love it,” he says, cracking two more eggs into the bowl at the same time without breaking eye contact with me. I laugh and roll my eyes as he starts mixing everything together with a fork. I guess I should’ve brought him Mom’s whisk. “So who’s this guy you invited over?” he asks.

“Just a friend I met at that party,” I reply.

“See? What did I tell you? Means to an end.” Just then a loud sound outside pulls our attention to the front window.

I hop off the counter and follow hyung through the small house. He opens the front door to find Yeonjun loudly wrangling a fluorescent-orange bicycle up onto the front porch in obvious frustration. Before I can even say anything, hyung hops down the porch steps to take the bike from him.

“Thanks,” he says, looking up at him. “Oh, dude, were you at Busan music festival this summer?” he asks, pointing at his beige T-shirt.

“Yeah, I go every year with my high school friends,” he says as he lifts the bike onto the porch with ease and rests it against the metal railing. “You?”

“It was my first music festival. I loved it! Saturday was unbelievable. I mean…”

“Bed Revival!?” Hyung asks, lighting up.

“Yes! Holy shit. They killed it.” My shoulders relax a little, seeing how well they’re getting along.

“Hi,” I say, making my presence known as I step out onto the porch. “New bike?”

“Marketplace.” Yeonjun shrugs, glancing between me and his bike. “Better than the bus.”

“I’m pretty sure rolling down the street would be better than taking a bus.” I say, and he laughs, nodding in agreement.