Dad Jokes

2/3

May 2017

The London skies are heavy with gray clouds. Yifan calculates he's got about ten seconds to make it across the bustling street and into the hotel lobby before he's drenched from head to toe and his new italian leather shoes are ruined.

Ten, nine...

After pulling the long, black scarf tightly around his neck, he makes a dash for the hotel entrance, nearly crashing into and knocking over a woman with a baby stroller. Apologizing quickly, he eases past them and makes it to the halfway mark in between lanes as cars zoom past him left and right.

eight, seven...

Just as the DO NOT CROSS signal turns off, a single cold drop lands on his right cheek, and suddenly it's the water apocalypse. Cursing under his breath, he picks up speed, only half managing to escape the full body shower. His shoes are undoubtably soaked. Shaking off as many raindrops as he can, he decides to step into the small cafe near the hotel lobby entrance for a mango shake. His clothes can air dry in the meantime. Luckily the place is almost empty. Just a couple of girls sitting at the far left and another man that walks in as he's placing his order. Given it's early on a Monday, it's not surprising. Yifan much prefers it this way. A little bit of calm and quiet before a hectic schedule is always welcomed.

"One chamomile tea please" the man near him orders in a heavy accent he can't quite place. The city of London is crawling with tourists, himself included. Not that he's there to tour, necessarily. He's only got a day and a half of R&R before filming for the movie begins, and all he wants to do is lounge around the hotel room in his underwear until then, with nothing to worry about except what to watch on TV or what to eat for dinner.

"One mango shake, one chamomile tea!" the barista announces and the drinks are placed on the counter just a few seconds later.

"Thank you" he hears the man next to him echo his own response before taking his tea. Yifan reaches for his own, wondering just how someone can like such a tasteless drink. Too engulfed in his own thougts, Yifan almost misses the uneasy feeling that surrounds him now, that feeling one gets when they're being watched closely. Yifan imagines it to be just about anything from curious fans to stalkers, anything except what he finds when he finally looks up. His eyes are glued to the smaller man standing next to him by the cafe counter, mouth hanging partly open in disbelief while the world around them suddenly becomes one collective blur.

"Kris....?"

The sound of that name coming from him brings the most bittersweet taste to his mouth.

"Jun- er, Suho....hey...."

"Hey..."

there's a long pause where neither of them say a thing, for lack of safe words, Yifan guesses. The smaller man stares up at him with an perplexed expression that mimics his own and Yifan finds himself searching for something to hold onto to keep himself balanced. Amazing how, after three years of not seeing his face or hearing his voice, Junmyeon can still make Yifan feel like all the air has been knocked out of his lungs with just a single look.

"Uh- do you....want to sit?" he hears himself ask as if from miles away, only half expecting the other to accept. Much to his surprise, and relief, Junmyeon nods. They choose a table at the far right, away from the girls and the cafe entrance. Once settled, the silence takes over again, with each of them staring at the small drink in their hands. It's akward, but Yifan can't think of a single thing to say that won't make him sound like a babbling bafoon.

"So what-"

"How hav-"

Yifan almost has to laugh at both their attempt to make conversation. It's been far too long since they've spoke like this, face to face. The awkward air is almost tangible, and Yifan feels a sudden need to demolish it, not liking the way it feels one bit.