Yeonjun places the washed fruits into a container before securing a lid on it, staring out at the garden and smiling at the omega with his feet bare and now raised up to the sky.
Looking out at the boy makes him want to do something sweet for him, so he raids the fridge for more foods to snack on and sandwich ingredients, busying himself in the kitchen while Beomgyu enjoys the sunshine and nature.
He packs a couple of his favourites, and the fruit container, into the basket he'd brought from the garden, working on the sandwiches when a knock thumps on his front door.
Yeonjun turns his head towards the sound before he puts down the butter knife and wipes off his hands while he walks, muttering to himself about the disturbance.
Yeonjun opens the door. "Mom, I told you-"
He cuts himself off, staring at the two with bored eyes, miffed. "Oh... it's you," Yeonjun grumbles and turns his back on the pair as he approaches the kitchen, not hiding the disappointment in his voice.
"Please Yeonjun, seeing you isn't a pleasure either," Kwangsoo says through a sigh, glancing around the house his son's staying at as he follows the young alpha through the house. His wife walks silently at his side as she takes in her surroundings. "Where is he? You haven't locked him up like some dungeon rat have you?"
"Your wild imagination must trouble you, Kwangsoo." Yeonjun's bored tone remains as he addresses the head-alpha.
Back in the place he was before Beomgyu's parents disturbed him. He cuts the sandwiches he prepared into triangular halves—and without a chopping bored, which his mother would kill him for if she ever found out.
"He's out there," Yeonjun says and tips his head towards the garden where you can just make out the omega amongst the tall grass and flowers. Beomgyu's feet are no longer dangled in the air and it looks like he's sleeping, sunhat placed over his face rather than on his head and chest moving at a slumbered pace.
"You're making this for the both of you?" Beomgyu's mother's question is paired with the quirk of her freshly plucked brow. Her soft eyes wear surprise as she picks up a piece of fruit that Yeonjun left out for himself to munch on while he puts together the food basket.
Yeonjun's cheeks grow hot and he scratches the ants that crawl along the nape of his neck, suddenly riddled with embarrassment.
Embarrassment for what? Caring?
"I- -Uh, yeah... It's just some light snacks- - Beomgyu picked the strawberries!" Yeonjun switches the focus to the omega, rushing to wrap the sandwiches with cling film and end this conversation. He adds them to the basket and removes the container full of fruit to show proof of his statement.
He rips off the lid covering the fruit and thrusts the open container towards the couple, a silent order to try a strawberry that was picked from his garden.
The Jungs' reach out towards the fruit hesitantly, fingers outstretched and lingering over the strawberries like their job is to find the ones Yeonjun hasn't poisoned.
He rolls his eyes at their dramatics. "Don't worry, I haven't done anything to them," he mocks, grabbing a strawberry and throwing it in the air to catch it in his mouth. The burst of freshness and sucrose coat his tongue thick like syrup, making him hum in delight.
With the confirmation that the two won't drop like flies, they plop a strawberry into their mouths. Beomgyu's mother, who he honestly doesn't know the name of and feels like it's rude to ask, hums in appreciation as the sweetness hits her tastebuds. Kwangsoo shows nothing more than his usual flat stare, the poker face of a gambling master and the cause of Yeonjun's frustration for not appreciating the effort he and Beomgyu went through to pick out the best strawberries.
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𝔹𝕝𝕦𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤, Beomjun
Fanfiction"What does 'I hate you' mean to you?" There's a weight behind those words and it's not so easy for Yeonjun to answer. Once, he said it a million times over with hatred and spite, but now his tongue knots over his words, unsure of what he's meant to...