𝔂𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝔂𝓾 𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓼

what follows

what follows originally by 94 (tokyopium) on AO3

Summary:

Thirty stories up Kyoto's most luxurious hotel, a man in a million yen suit slumps over the counter. Next to him, Beomgyu sits pretty and swirls his amber drink.

"That one was mine," Yeonjun warns him. "You took my mark."

I.

His name tag says "Beomgyu". Nothing more, nothing less.

It's winter when they first meet. Little snowflakes speckle the streets of busy Seoul. Yeonjun weaves around the people and the clamor with practiced ease, slipping into the dim back alleys. He kicks at a crushed coffee can, shooting it into the signboard of a no-name cafe with a noisy clatter.

The chimes jingle when Yeonjun flicks snow off his shoes and walks inside.

It's empty. Yeonjun is the only customer there. Fair enough. It's past ten and the only person he spots in the cafe is mopping up the floor, humming.

"You're lucky you weren't a minute late," Beomgyu says when he's at Yeonjun's table, laughing. He laughs like he has something to hide. It's light and goes no deeper than the back of his throat. Yeonjun's heard the type before. "I was just about to go flip the sign on the door."

Yeonjun just smiles dryly. Orders his flan pudding and Americano. He's not here to stay long. He never stays anywhere for too long. The small talk is nothing more than a thing to pad out the air between them. He'd rather go without it.

Ten minutes pass and Beomgyu returns with the check. When he does, his eyes steady onto Yeonjun, watching him dig out a thin, modest wallet from his back pocket. There's a harmless smile on his face.

But Yeonjun knows better. The sting in Beomgyu's gaze. The way Beomgyu eyes him up and down to take in every detail he can. More detail than the average person would think to care about.

Yeonjun studies him.

Beomgyu is pretty. His hair's tousled, likely from a long evening shift, and his collar's half-undone. It's the persistent smile that does it. Whenever his teeth peek out from his lips, they catch the warm light of the cafe.

He's pretty at every angle and seems a little too aware of it.

"Tough day?"

"Something like that," Yeonjun answers.

Beomgyu's eyes gleam. "Was the pudding okay?"

The damn small talk again.

"It was fine," Yeonjun says. Fishing out the exact change for his bill, he places it over the receipt and waits for Beomgyu to take the hint and leave.

Instead, Beomgyu scoops up the payment and tilts his head at Yeonjun's standoffish look.

"You've got a sweet tooth, huh?"

Yeonjun raises a brow. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing," Beomgyu says. "I just wouldn't have guessed."

Yeonjun is silent. There's that look in Beomgyu's eyes again. He's all affable and innocuous like it's a trap. The smile plastered over his lips is perfect in every way.

Then Yeonjun's gaze flits over to the clock on the wall. He should go.

Beomgyu blinks. "You're heading out?"