YOUTH. | JK | COMPLETE

hoseok

SEA - ORCHESTRAL ARRANGEMENT
BTS

TWO WEEKS LATER.

The February wind nips at the bare skin of Jeongguk's face as he steps out of Hoseok's bright yellow beetle. Jeongguk had made a comment earlier on how the color of the car reflected Hoseok's personality. He waves at Hoseok as he drives away, and the radiant smile that occupies his lips as bright as the yellow paint. Hoseok is leaving Seoul to teach a master dance class, and he refused to let Jeongguk walk to work in the bitter chill, so he picked him up and dropped him off at the EatJin cafe on his way. Jeongguk hates riding in cars, but he couldn't deny Hoseok's kindness.

The bell dings as he enters, and Seokjin tuts at him from behind the counter. "You're three minutes and forty seven seconds late. Shame on you." Rather than apologizing sincerely, a smile cracks on Jeongguk's face.

"Fire me, sir." He jokes, and Seokjin laughs. Hanging out with the six men he can now call his friends has begun to change his sense of humor, primarily due to the use of sarcasm he's been exposed to. The majority of the sarcasm, though, stems from Yoongi. Seokjin is still laughing by the time Jeongguk ties his apron around his neck and waist. He's not used to this new and improved version of Jeongguk his friends created. Sure, Jeongguk still says old-fashioned sayings and blushes any time a sexual innuendo is made, but he's less of a metaphorical deer in life's headlights.

"Just go turn on the percolator. Kids these days." He mumbles, and Jeongguk grins to himself. He's tired, from mastering the art of video games with Hoseok late into the night, and from his neverending supply of bad dreams that come after that, but even later than that—most of all, he's tired from talking to Haneul over the phone in the dwindling night hours, the luminescent glow of the stars mere minutes from giving way to the first rays of sun. He's tired, but now, it's because he chooses to be awake. This is a happy tired, one that he willingly inflicts on himself three times a week just for the chance to hear her voice that sounds like the audible equivalent of honey—smooth and saccharine sweet and sticky to the point that Jeongguk can't quite wash it off.

It sticks with him all day, and he finds himself smiling at the thought of it, never allowing himself to be discouraged when he spills coffee on his shoes or when a customer is rude. He finds himself longing for the phone to ring, though he knows it won't, considering it's daytime and Haneul is on her shift at the hospital and he'll have to utilize his last bits of patience to wait until their late night conversation.

Or at least, he thought he knew that his phone wouldn't ring during the day.

But come 5:30, as Jeongguk sweeps up behind the counter of the café, his phone begins to buzz in his back pocket. His heart skips a beat as he pulls it out, expecting to see six familiar letters arranged into one of his favorite names—but instead, two words take Haneul's place. Unknown Caller. Jeongguk squints at it, briefly contemplating who could be calling him. He has the numbers of the few people who communicate with him over the phone saved. Nevertheless, Jeongguk hits the green button and raises the phone to his ear. "Hello?" He asks curiously.

"Hello, is this Jeon Jeongguk?" A female voice asks. Jeongguk nods, waiting for a response before realizing the woman can't see him.

"Yes. To whom am I speaking?" He asks.

"This is Bumin General Hospital, we're calling inquiring about a friend of yours. Please take a seat, this is some very startling information." Jeongguk does as told, a sinking feeling hollowing out his stomach.