Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jongin's toweling his hair dry when the doorbell rings, and in a typical Pavlovian reflex, his tummy growls loudly and unabashedly. He has an arrangement with a Korean takeaway restaurant nearby, where they deliver food on Mondays, Wednesdays and Friday nights. He picks out 12 items from the menu at the end of each month, when Seokjin the delivery boy shows him the menu and takes down his order. And with a dozen ticks, he doesn't have to think about his meal options anymore for the next four weeks.

Jongin lives alone and cooking an entire meal for just one person is more trouble than he wants to deal with on a weekday, and there’s only so much instant ramyun you can take before you pickle your kidneys and who knows what other vital organs. So the delivery arrangement he has with Seoulfood Restaurant makes his life 180 degrees easier and Jongin's grateful for it.

It's 7.30 ... which is the exact time the food is supposed to arrive, but Seokjin is always a few minutes early. Unusual, Jongin ponders as he reaches his hand out and turns the doorknob. He usually sees the delivery boy's face as soon as he opens the door, but today he's met with a chin and a pair of generous lips he doesn't recognize. They're very nice lips, he thinks, before chiding himself because it shouldn't make any difference to him if this delivery boy (who isn't Seokjin) has nice lips. Jongin looks up and sees a boyishly handsome face and friendly, almond shaped eyes. A smile with the warmth of a sunset.

"Hello, I'm Chanyeol," he says in a low, not quite booming voice. Jongin is so startled by the unexpected greeting that he awkwardly introduces himself too. Seokjin usually just passes him the food and tells him how much the meal costs. Then, Jongin pays him and Seokjin hands over the change if necessary. It's a quiet and comforting pattern they've established over the past year and it's what Jongin is used to.

"Where should I leave this, Jongin?" Chanyeol lifts the plastic bag in his hand higher.

"Just pass it to me."

"Are you sure? I could just put it on your dining table for you."

"No, that's fine. I'll just take it from you," Jongin insists.

"All right then. That’ll be $8." Chanyeol's smile is extremely distracting, Jongin thinks as he reaches for his wallet ... and discovers he's left it in on his bed stand. It seems petty to ask him to wait outside and he doesn't want to leave the door open so he asks Chanyeol to come in.

When Jongin returns with a tenner, he finds Chanyeol standing by his front door. The boy is so tall and his shoulders so broad that the hallway looks suddenly cramped and overwhelmed.

"What happened to the usual boy?"Jongin asks and he's not sure why he's even asking because he's not the sort to pry.

"Oh, he's in Australia for his sister's wedding. He's taking the week off so I'll be delivering your food while he's away," Chanyeol explains, his deep voice filling up the spaces in the apartment. Jongin nods quietly and stands by the door, unused to having to look up at his delivery boy. Too close. Too tall.

"I guess I'll see you on Wednesday, then," Chanyeol grins, a shallow dimple creasing his cheek. He bows and reverse walks out the door, but his feet stutter and he tips backwards, only just managing to grab the doorframe in that moment before he falls. Just barely. And Jongin's hands shoot out reflexively and help to steady him. Chanyeol's face is red with ... bruised male ego, Jongin suspects and he has an inexplicable urge to tease him.

"Are you sure you should be delivering hot food? I mean you don't seem too coordinated."

"I'm not a klutz!" Chanyeol protests, "I mean I'm not normally a klutz. There must have been a wrinkle in the carpeting or something."

"That would make more sense if there were actual carpeting," Jongin smiles wryly as he indicates the hardwood flooring beneath Chanyeol's navy blue Chucks.

"Oh, yeah, that's true." Chanyeol's laugh is embarrassed as he covers his face in a boyish gesture which is unexpected when he’s been nothing but confident since his arrival on Jongin’s doorstep. The shyness is … endearing. He has nice large hands, with long, elegant fingers. "I must be really distracted. I'm sorry. It won't happen again, Jongin! I'll be more careful next time, I promise."

"Watch your feet when you get into the elevator. It's um carpeted."

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?" he groaned noisily.

"Probably not. But if you give me an extra serve of kimchi on Wednesday, I might consider letting this go." Jongin can't keep the amusement out of his voice as he watches the emotions chase each other across Chanyeol's face: shyness, surprise, delight. He's so expressive. Was I ever this young?

"I'll give you two extra serves of kimchi if you can un-remember me almost back flipping onto your hallway."

"Done." Jongin leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms.

"So I'll see you on Wednesday then.” The gangly young man is grinning, his hand giving a slow wave as he continues to watch Jongin, his feet taking small backward steps.

"Ok ... but um, watch out for that potted plant," he warns apprehensively just before Chanyeol backs into the large terra cotta pot and almost takes down the entire rubber plant.

"Forget the two serves. I'll bring you a tub of kimchi if you forget that ever happened.”

"I-"

"One whole tub!”

“But-“

“I swear to God, I’m usually super coordinated. This is not normal for me like … Give me another chance and I’ll prove I won’t trip over anything. Just forget today ever happened, please?”

“I don’t know why this even matters but fine, I’ll pretend I don’t remember you crashing into the pot plant,” Jongin sighs.

“And the back-flipping into the hallway?” Chanyeol’s smile is borderline mischievous now.

“Fine.” Jongin sighed, his face a mixture of exasperated and entertained.

“Thank you! I'll see you soon," Chanyeol finally enters the lift - without inflicting any bodily harm upon himself, much to Jongin's relief. The image of Chanyeol’s expression as Jongin had caught him by the shoulders in mid-fall dances on the edges of Jongin's mind. It had been such a unique combination of shock, embarrassment and delight. Jongin remembers and the corners of his mouth can't help but lift as he shuts the door behind him.

The boy's energy is so boundless it's almost dizzying.

He's still smiling when he places Volume 3 of Noragami: Stray God on the sycamore dining table, the pages rustling crisply as he spreads them out. Then he takes his first heaped spoonful of Jinju bibimbap, and as the flavor of marinated clams explodes on Jongin's tongue, he finds himself wondering if the boy will actually bring him a tub of kimchi on Wednesday. But kids nowadays are so fickle that Jongin doubts he'll even see one extra serve of kimchi let alone a whole tub full.

It would really be something though, if the boy remembers.

Jongin remembers to angle his face up a little as he opens the door today, so he can meet his now much taller delivery boy's eyes.

"Good evening, Jongin." His voice is so warm it's a little like bottled sunshine.

"Hello, Chanyeol."

"You remember my name!"

"I think the potted plant remembers your name too," Jongin snorts.

"You promised you'd forget about the plant," Chanyeol protests.

"I said I would if I got some free kimchi for my trouble."

"But I kept my end of the bargain so you can’t bring all that up again, ok? Can I come inside? It's just easier to explain if I can do this at the table," he says mysteriously as he holds up two plastic carry bags, one much smaller than the other. Jongin pulls the door wide open and lets him in.

"So, I wasn’t sure what you like so I got a bit of everything.” Chanyeol starts taking containers out of the small plastic bag, stacking them in a neat, see-through tower on Jongin’s small dining table.

“I don’t understand,” Jongin says, but he’s slowly beginning to as he spies red-stained vegetables through clear plastic.

“I brought you radish, cabbage, and chive kimchi. The radish is for erasing the back flip from your memory, and the chive is for deleting the pot plant.”

“What about the cabbage?” Jongin furrows his eyebrows curiously.

“The cabbage is just … because.” Chanyeol shrugs, a cheeky expression on his face

“Just because? I can’t take this,” Jongin said firmly.

“You’ll have to. If I bring this back, I’ll have to explain why I'm returning three extra containers of kimchi to the restaurant kitchen.”

“Take it home then.”

“I can’t! My mom would have a fit because her kimchi is THE ABSOLUTE BEST IN THE WORLD, how dare I bring home kimchi made by someone else?! Trust me, Jongin, I want to live long enough to see my 22nd birthday so I am not bringing that kimchi home.”

“You’re exaggerating!” Jongin laughs but his resolve is crumbling no matter how hard he tries to shore it up.

“I swear I’m not! Anyway, I have a few more deliveries to make now so I gotta run,” Chanyeol’s voice gets a little nervous like he’s suddenly realized how much time he’s wasted here bantering with Jongin. And he’s already halfway to the door when he’s interrupted by Jongin’s how much for the food, kid?.

“It’s $10. And I’m not, you know? I’m not a kid.” Chanyeol’s face is solemn as he takes the money from Jongin.

“You’re right. You’re not a kid,” Jongin acknowledges. Grudgingly.

“I’ll see you on Friday.” The engaging smile is back in place as Chanyeol waves a quick goodbye. He doesn’t trip or crash into the potted plant this time, making it to the lift unscathed and disappearing into its recesses. Jongin is almost disappointed that Chanyeol doesn’t have any more accidents outside his apartment because he enjoys talking to the boy more than he likes to admit – even though they've spoken about pretty much nothing really up to this point.

As he shuts his door, he wonders when Chanyeol’s birthday is. He’s 21. He really isn’t a kid anymore.

Jongin pulls the door open and a few stray droplets of water catch on Jongin's cheek and bottom lip. His delivery boy is drenched and currently shaking rain water off his hair, spraying more liquid on Jongin's face.

"Whoa!" Jongin wipes the beads of water off his face, amused. Chanyeol's inky black hair is dripping and the moisture has forced a gentle wave into it. Raindrops have pearled on his cheeks and forehead and he's absolutely drenched in spite of the cobalt blue wind cheater. There’s a large, plate glass window at the end of the corridor, and beyond the pane, the night sky is bright and loud with jagged slashes of lightning and loud claps of thunder.

"Um, sorry I just gave you an impromptu shower but ... the storm is just ..." Chanyeol indicates the window in a sheepish kind of gesture.

"Come in and dry off. Do you have a lot of deliveries left?" Jongin ushers him in and leaves him standing near the door as he disappears into his room to get a towel. A phone is ringing as Jongin steps back into the hallway. Chanyeol takes the call and after a series of nods and an arasseo or two, he hangs up.

“They told me not to deliver the rest of the food because it’s too dangerous on the bike with the storm getting worse. They’re sending a van out to send a fresh batch of orders to customers.”

“You can wait here – till the storm is over, I mean. I’ll lend you some clothes so you can hang yours out to dry. You’re soaked through.” It’s probably not a good idea and he should just leave Chanyeol to sit out the storm in the modest foyer of his apartment building; but it seems cruel somehow. Especially when he’s all wet and might catch a chill and … nope, he can’t possibly turn him out in this god-awful weather.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Relief floods his face. “Can I have the clothes now? Because I’m starting to feel really cold, plus I want to change into dry clothes before you change your mind and decide to make me wait outside.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jongin frowns at Chanyeol before heading for his bedroom.

"I was wondering ... what do you usually do on weekends?" Chanyeol asks casually as he flips open the lid of the takeaway container. The garlicky aroma of the tofu stew fills the air and Jongin’s stomach lodges a noisy protest. Chanyeol says nothing to indicate he's heard but he makes sure to dish the stew into Jongin’s hand painted ceramic bowl first. The doenjang jjigae and rice Jongin had ordered now has to be shared out between the two of them, so they’d decided to cook a packet of instant ramyun each to supplement that. Chanyeol had insisted on cooking the noodles and Jongin hadn’t argued because he just wanted to eat as soon as possible.

"What do I do on weekends? Nothing much. Clean the apartment. Wash my car. Read manga. Go catch a movie with friends. Wow, I did not just make myself sound like the most boring person on the planet?"

"Well, you didn't make yourself sound real exciting, Jongin." Chanyeol's laugh reminds him of warm cocoa and marshmallows. "But it doesn't even matter to me. I'd still really like to find out for myself if you're boring or exciting." He eases his long frame onto his chair and just like that, he’s right across the table from Jongin. It’s not a big table so their knees are just a hand span from touching. The boy's legs are so long.

"Are you trying to ask me out?" Jongin squinted at him.

"Is that ok?"

"I don't date."

"Not a date then. We could just hang out and get to know each other then?"

"No," Jongin shakes his head, but Chanyeol's large, earnest eyes are so persuasive and the need to say yes is slowly working its way through the minute cracks in his fiercely walled up heart. Was I ever that confident or determined at 21? And Jongin doesn't have to dig too deep to know the answer is no.

"I'm not trying to say you should go out with me but ... do you want to hang out this weekend? I mean just go catch a movie or go to the park, have dinner? Or lunch? Breakfast is a little early in the day for me but I would wake up early for you. We could even do breakfast, lunch and dinner if you wanted." All the clichéd dating scenarios are rolling off Chanyeol's tongue and nothing should sound appealing and yet everything does.

You're so self-assured for someone so young, Jongin thinks. He hadn't had even half of Chanyeol's confidence when he'd been his age. The boy's exuberance is just ... infectious. There can't be more than a handful of years separating them but all of a sudden, Jongin feels at least a decade older.

"That sounds a lot like a date," Jongin snorts. He’s trying to put him off but the kid is incredibly impervious.

“We'll just be hanging out, I swear.”

“Please. It’s a date, and I don’t do dates. I especially don’t do dates with kids.

"I'm legal and I can vote. I'm not a kid," Chanyeol frowns defensively.

"You're still in college. That makes you a kid." But Jongin isn't sure if he's trying to convince himself or Chanyeol.

"Okay then, come out with me this weekend and be a kid again - just for a day at least. Come on, Jongin."

"I shouldn't."

"I'll pick you up - just tell me what time!" Chanyeol doesn't even make any attempt to disguise the excitement on his face. Jongin finds it refreshing … and incredibly endearing. So he submits to Chanyeol's pleading and they agree to have brunch together on Saturday.

"Are you going to pick me up with a takeaway delivery bike? Maybe I should drive?" Jongin's smile is teasing.

"I can use the bike if you want but I'd rather drive my car." Chanyeol glares but it's only there for a second. Jongin can't imagine this sunny face ever looking truly sad or angry and he wonders if Chanyeol is ever sad or angry or- Jongin cuts off his thoughts. He really needs to stop thinking about Chanyeol, period.

"What do you want to do after brunch?" Chanyeol asks.

"Nothing. Go home. Clean the apartment. Wash my car."

"You're joking! There's going to be really good weather this Saturday - I'll think of something."

"You go ahead and think. I'll be at home washing my car."

Chanyeol's mouth turns down a little but his eyes are twinkling with mischief and Jongin's heart gives a tiny little squeeze. And he knows, with a growing certainty, that he won't be washing his car this weekend.

Quietly, they slurp their noodles and take spoonfuls of the thick, fragrant stew. And Jongin laughs when Chanyeol soaks a spoonful of rice in his bowl of stew and scoops it back up and into his mouth, "I used to do that when I was young."

"Why do you make it sound like you're old? You look about my age," Chanyeol's eyebrows are raised curiously and his dimples ... they're so deeply etched in his cheeks. And Jongin wonders what it would be like to trace those dips with the tip of his index finger.

"I'm not your age, please. I'm 25. I've been working for years."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a copy writer."

"You must be good with words then." Chanyeol puts down his chopsticks and watches him with interest.

"Not at all. Well, I can write I guess but speak ...? I'm hopelessly inarticulate when I have to actually talk to people."

"I wish you were less articulate about me being a kid, to be honest."

"Ah. I'm sorry, that was rude of me. I should stop."

"Why don't you date?"

"That's kinda personal? But why do you want to know?"

"So I can figure out how to change your mind," Chanyeol admits and he looks completely earnest - no sign of guile anywhere. Jongin wishes he'd given an obnoxious smirk or said something smug or conceited. Why couldn't he just say or do something to disgust Jongin? That would make things so much easier for him.

"You don't even know me," Jongin shakes his head.

"I'd like to, though. Doesn't that count for something?"

"Eat your noodles."

And Chanyeol does exactly that but he's got a cheeky smile on his face and Jongin knows he hasn't given up.

"Did you fold all those cranes yourself? The ones in that big jar in your living room?"

"I did," Jongin says quietly. He doesn't like talking about that time in his life but there's something about the sincerity in Chanyeol's question that has him easing up and letting him in for just a bit. "I folded a thousand cranes in three months … when I was sixteen."

"Am I allowed to ask why?"

"There's this Japanese myth I read about when I was a kid. If you fold one thousand cranes within a year, the myth says you'll be granted a wish by a crane."

"You must have wanted that wish real bad," Chanyeol's looking at him and his gaze burns so bright it hurts Jongin's eyes.

"I-" Jongin stares at the ramyun that's floating in the crudely seasoned broth. "I really wanted that wish. But it wasn't for me."

"I hope you'll tell me your story one day."

"You're not going to hassle me to tell you right now?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Probably not tonight.” But honestly, Jongin couldn’t imagine ever telling Chanyeol or anyone else for that matter, that he’d folded a thousand paper cranes because he wanted the mystical crane to make his noona stop crying, because he wanted the crane to make her happy again.

About a month before his 16th birthday, his older sister had returned to the Kim family home at midnight amid hushed whispers and puffy eyes, a soulless black suitcase trailing despondently after her. Her husband was having an affair and her head had made her leave him even as her heart stubbornly clung on. She’d moved back into the room she vacated three years ago and for the next three and a half months, Jongin had tried not to listen to his noona’s muffled sobs as she cried herself to sleep.

Three days after she’d come home, Jongin had begun folding origami cranes and he hadn’t stopped until the jar was full and the piece of paper covered in tally marks confirmed that he had indeed reached his target of 1000. It had taken him three months and he made not one, but two wishes. One, he wished with all his heart that his noona would find happiness again, so the crying could stop. And two, he wished to never fall in love and to never get involved with anyone because he never wanted to hurt like his noona had hurt. She's not sad anymore. She's got a job she likes and a really decent guy she's been dating for two years and she doesn't hurt anymore. But that's not enough to convince Jongin it's all worth it.

He's never falling in love with anyone. Ever.

“Jongin, are you okay? I’m sorry I brought up the cranes.” There’s a knot of regret in his words and in his concerned eyes.

“I’m fine. Eat your noodles.”

And for the next hour, he and Chanyeol talk about anything and everything – the usual things people talk about as they get to know each other. Jongin tries to pay attention as Chanyeol lists out his favorite foods, but he keeps hearing the muted noises of his noona’s heart breaking.

“See you tomorrow at ten!” Chanyeol waves as he steps into the lift, and Jongin nods and waves in return before shutting the door and leaning back against it. The gray t-shirt and workout pants in his arms are still warm from Chanyeol’s body and the fabric is releasing a delicious masculine scent, and Jongin has to stop himself from sniffing the shirt. Eyes shutting, Jongin asks himself what he was thinking to agree to see the boy again. In no less than twelve hours! He must be insane.

Chanyeol has a nice SUV, a Nissan X-Trail which suits his tall build, but Jongin wonders how a college student can afford a car like that. It’s probably Chanyeol’s father’s car that he's borrowed for the day, because Jongin's been working for 2 years and he can barely afford the Prius he owns.

“I'm taking you to this deli called Wild Honey which has the most incredible Eggs Benedict. I hope you like poached eggs?"

"I've ... never actually had poached eggs or Eggs Benedict. I’ve seen them in menus and they look delectable and exotic and, well, unattainable. I have simple needs - more of a bacon and eggs kinda guy, I guess."

"Unattainable. I like that. And you said you weren’t good with words.” Chanyeol teases as he hits the indicator with plenty of time before taking a left turn. He’s a careful driver and Jongin appreciates that.

“Fluke.” Jongin looks out the window because sitting next to Chanyeol is doing things to his equilibrium and he needs some space to breathe.

“You’re not allowed to order bacon and eggs today, okay? You get to be a kid today and try something different today. Being a kid means trying out new things so you’re having Eggs Benedict, okay?”

“Can I have bacon and eggs if I don’t like the other thing?”

“Yeah, okay. But you have to give the other a thing a decent chance. At least three mouthfuls!” Chanyeol is insistent and Jongin grumbles ominously under his breath but agrees to the terms in the end.

“Something just hit me. You’ve never tried Eggs Ben so does that mean … you’ve never tried Hollandaise sauce?" There's mock horror in Chanyeol's voice and Jongin chuckles.

"I never got round to it. I'm a bad person."

"Stick with me and I'll make sure you try all the sauces around."

"I'm not sticking with anyone. And just so we're clear, this isn't a date."

"Of course it isn't!" Chanyeol grins but his eyes are saying of course it is. Jongin sighs heavily and asks him to keep his eyes on the road.

Chanyeol is life. He has such an insatiable appetite for life and the unknown he’s like life itself. And Jongin feels so tempted to stick his hands into the fire but then he remembers his noona who stuck her hands into a similar fire and came out of it badly burnt, and he stops himself.

The flavor of Eggs Benedict makes Jongin smile inside, and the Hollandaise sauce is delicate and buttery on his tongue and he wishes he’d tried Eggs Benedict years ago. But when Chanyeol wants to know what he thinks, Jongin just shrugs and gives a noncommittal it’s okay.

“That’s all? I don’t believe you,” Chanyeol looks skeptical but lets it go. “I need to figure out what to make you try the next time we do this.”

“Who says there’s a next time?” Jongin snorts and the boy’s bottom lip juts out ever so slightly in a perfect, almost pout that widens the cracks in the wall Jongin’s built around his fragile heart.

Jongin discovers that Chanyeol studied horticulture in college because he's always liked watching things grow and being outdoors. He'll start work at a landscaping firm in the fall so he'll be joining the workforce, and he tells Jongin with some pride that "I won't be a college kid anymore". Jongin also discovers that Chanyeol likes The Beatles and music from the 70s, and he kind of loves this about him even though it's not music Jongin's ever been excited about. At some point, Chanyeol tells him that his father owns Seoulfood Restaurant and that's why he works there part-time, delivering food. He usually does daytime shifts though, and it's only this week that's he's doing the night shift - because Seokjin is away. Chanyeol shares bits and pieces about himself which Jongin selfishly hoards, even as he reveals tiny slivers of himself too.

The fissures in the wall that guards Jongin’s heart continue to grow and spread as the day progresses, and by the time Chanyeol drops him off in the evening, that wall is a paper-thin membrane.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to have dinner with me?” His voice is so deep, I could listen to it all day.

“We’ve already had brunch and a late lunch together. No one needs to be subjected to my company for an entire day.”

“But I want your company for the whole day.” Chanyeol’s eyes are serious now, intense. And all of a sudden, he seems older than Jongin.

“I’m the most boring person. Seriously you don’t.”

“You’re wrong. And you’re not boring. In fact you’re,” And then Chanyeol doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t say anything because he’s reaching over and his face is so close that Jongin can feel his breath waft over his cheek, moist and warm. “Beautiful,” Chanyeol whispers as his palm rests gently over Jongin’s cheek, and he tilts his head and presses his mouth gently to Jongin’s. It's such a tentative kiss, like Chanyeol knows he's stealing it without asking, but at the same time he wants it so much he can't help himself. And Jongin wants to be annoyed and upset but in the end he can't help himself either, and kisses him back. It's tender and sweet and Jongin has a hard time remembering why he doesn't want to date.

"This isn't supposed to happen when you're just hanging out," Jongin says a little accusingly when he finally remembers to pull away.

"I thought we were on a date," Chanyeol plays with his fingers, his thumb stroking Jongin's palm, making the skin tingle.

"I don't date." Jongin says desperately as he tries not to stare at Chanyeol's mouth.

"I know," he smiles. "I need to work all of tomorrow and most of Monday but could we maybe ... hang out on Tuesday night?"

"But-"

"Just give me a chance to change your mind. That's all I ask. No pressure. And no dates if you don't want any. We can just hang out."

"Fine." Jongin sighs, trying to sound as reluctant as possible even though his heart is anything but reluctant. He tries to remind himself that he doesn't date and he doesn't do relationships and he especially doesn't fall in love. He reminds himself and hopes his heart will listen ...

The doorbell rings and Jongin has to force his feet to slow down so he doesn't get to the door too soon. Taking a deep breath, he grimaces and opens the door, looking up so he can meet Chanyeol's gaze. Except ... it's not Chanyeol. Someone else is standing in his doorway. It really shouldn't matter who brings the food but Jongin isn’t prepared for how disappointed he feels that it's Seokjin standing there - Seokjin who is too short and too serious and too quiet and basically too not Chanyeol.

Jongin sets his spoon down on his plate with an unhappy thunk. Why is the bulgogi so salty and over cooked? The food is always perfect when Chanyeol brings it. Why isn't it perfect? Jongin's fingers curl into a frustrated fist, and he's about to pick his spoon up again when the doorbell rings, for the second time that evening. This time, his walk to the door is an unhurried one, devoid of all excitement.

"Chanyeol?!" Jongin doesn't bother to hide his confusion or his enthusiasm, "Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be working? I thought you were coming over tomorrow?"

"Seokjin is back so I don't have to work nights anymore. I know we’re supposed to see each other tomorrow but,” and Chanyeol grins sheepishly, “I didn’t want to wait that long. I wanted to get here at 7.30 but there was a long queue at the gamjatang shop. I know you like gamjatang." Chanyeol holds out the plastic bag and Jongin takes it, still dazed by Chanyeol’s unexpected appearance. He steps aside to let Chanyeol into the apartment and that’s when he sees Chanyeol’s left arm wrapped around a large glass jar. The hall light is bouncing prettily off the clear glass and Jongin’s lips part in a surprised oh when he recognizes the origami shapes trapped inside the transparent cage. They’re oddly shaped, malformed even, but they’re unmistakably paper cranes.

“Did you fold these cranes?” Jongin’s fingers grip Chanyeol’s forearm.

“Yes. They need fixing because I don’t really origami? I had to watch a YouTube video to make these; okay, maybe three or four videos and I managed to fold only ten in the last two days!” Chanyeol makes an endearing gesture of frustration which makes Jongin laugh for two seconds before his expression turns intense again.

“Why would you do this?”

“Because I want the crane to grant me a wish. I’ve worked it out, Jongin. If I fold 2.74 cranes a day, I’ll hit 1000 in a year. But I’m going to try and do it in two to three months max because I can’t wait a year. So I’ll have to produce 11.11 to 16.67 cranes a day to reach my goal.” Gingerly, he puts the jar on the floor before straightening again.

“What’s your wish?” Jongin reaches his arm out, placing his palm on Chanyeol’s chest, and he can feel the strong steady beating of his heart beneath it.

“My wish is to have you, to date you. For you to agree to date me.” Slowly, Chanyeol’s palm slides over Jongin’s.

“I-”

“I’m not a kid and I’m serious about this. I really really like you, Jongin and I want to see you … all the time. I know we just met but, I just want to spend time with you. More time, y’know?”

“You’re really serious?”

“I really am.”

“If you’re sure you want to be stuck with a boring dude like me, then you don’t have to fold any more cranes,” Jongin’s smile is a tentative thing but Chanyeol’s face is uninhibited joy as he whoops and hugs him. And before Jongin can say, watch out for the gamjatang!, Chanyeol has knocked it to the ground. By some miracle, the container doesn’t pop open so there’s no messy puddle of soup to clean up.

“I still say you shouldn’t be delivering hot food,” Jongin laughs and it’s a sound of mirth mixed with relief.

“I only get like this when I’m delivering food to you, I swear.”

Jongin’s still trying to think of a funny quip when Chanyeol pre-empts him with an exuberant kiss and for the next long while, no one has any time to think about eating dinner or folding paper cranes …