Chapter Text
Myungjun leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. The train would be arriving in Busan in 20 minutes; there was still time for a quick nap. It had been a long weekend.
Tomorrow was Monday. He suppressed the inner groan at the thought of having to go to work in the morning. It’s not that he hated his job, not at all, but when he graduated as an architect he imagined himself being part of glamorous projects that involved shiny offices or beautiful homes for super-rich, or possibly both. None of his dreams featured schools and kindergartens. Kindergartens, for goodness’ sake. Myungjun had nothing against the education sector or kids as such – he loved his nephew after all - but designing schools was no fun at all. Functional over beautiful every time. How sad.
Being the youngest member of the team sucked, he decided. It meant he always ended up with the short end of the stick. Any job that was even remotely exciting went to someone else, someone senior, someone with more experience.
The logical part of his brain knew that this was the natural order of things, that he wouldn’t be the last in the pecking order forever – but the logical part of his brain was not functioning particularly well on this grey Sunday evening when his head was still a bit sore after two days full of partying and his heart still a bit sore from envy.
He had looked forward to this weekend, he really did. He hasn’t seen Jinwoo for five months and it was great to catch up. He missed his best friend; Busan wasn’t what it used to be since Jinwoo moved to Seoul two years ago. Myungjun understood the capital offered more opportunities for musicians; he was genuinely pleased that Jinwoo’s band The Existential Forest were getting the exposure they needed, happy to see Jinwoo succeeding, he truly was.
He went to see them on Friday; a gig in one of those trendy clubs that looked grubby and dark but it was all part of a rather clever marketing aiming at the young and edgy. The Existential Forest fitted right in, Jinwoo’s dark rapping a perfect complement to the darkness of the ambience.
The night was a success, the after-party accordingly wild. Myungjun enjoyed a privileged position of being Jinwoo’s eldest friend and was introduced to everybody. The atmosphere was buzzing, drinks flowed freely and Myungjun soon mingled with the band members, their friends and acquaintances, joking and laughing, the apples of his cheeks flushed from too much soju and too much harmless flirting with random strangers.
And yet.
Despite the fun, the drinks, the smiles and jokes, he couldn’t help but feeling a little envious after having seen Jinwoo on stage, the happiness radiating off him as if he turned on a secret switch that was illuminating his whole being from within. And he couldn’t help but feel another pang of jealousy when, several hours later, both of them sitting of the front steps of the club and pleasantly buzzing from the copious amount of soju, Jinwoo suddenly leaned over and whispered a little breathlessly that he thought he had a crush on their band manager and he thought that Dongmin liked him too.
Myungjun had met Dongmin backstage, just before the performance, and later spent good fifteen minutes chatting to him at the party. His usual sass and easy-going demeanour deserted him completely when face to face with Dongmin’s ethereal beauty. People like Dongmin should be models, thought Myungjun, not accountants working in the music business – but that’s what Dongmin was, apparently, and in the course of their conversation he discovered the other’s dry sense of humours, sharp brain and, what surprised Myungjun the most, a really sweet, caring nature.
“Where on earth did you stumble upon him, you lucky bastard?” he grabbed Jinwoo after Dongmin was waved over by the club owner to be introduced to a guest of some importance or the other.
“My irresistible personality,” grinned Jinwoo, “I attract the best of the best.”
And attract he did, judging by the soft looks Dongmin was casting in Jinwoo’s direction during the performance and which now, after his drunken confession, made much more sense.
“I’m so happy for you, bro,” he slung his arm around Jinwoo’s shoulders and he was, he truly was.
He really was.
The sound of the braking train woke him up from his slumber and he scrambled up hastily, realising they would be arriving at the station in a minute and he’d better hurry up. He yanked his duffel bag from the overhead locker - and watched in horror as it collided with a man who was getting to his feet in front of him.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he stumbled over his own words, completely mortified, as the tall stranger turned around to see who the hell whacked him on the head with a piece of luggage.
Oh my God.
Looking at Myungjun was a pair of green eyes so beautiful he felt he was falling into a bottomless well.
Drowning.
Everything else around ceased to exist. Myungjun forgot about his bag, the embarrassment, the fact that he needed to wake up at 6:30 the next morning, forgot about Jinwoo and Dongmin and stared.
The stranger in front of him, a tall young man, his sharp features slightly feline, held his gaze for a moment and Myungjun felt hypnotised. It was like looking at a sleek, beautiful cat.
Realising belatedly that he was probably behaving like an utter idiot, Myungjun mumbled another apology.
“It’s ok, no problem at all,” the cat stranger giggled and Myungjun watched in awe as his face was suddenly transformed by a cute puppy-like smile. “Anyway, you seem to be travelling lightly so no harm done,” he gestured at the bag.
Myungjun threw him an embarrassed smile. “Short visit. Saw an old friend in Seoul over the weekend.” He tried really hard to sound coherent, nonchalant even, but it was rather difficult given the proximity of those eyes and that smile.
“Had a good time?” The green eyes were still locked with his, the sweet smile still there. Myungjun found it hard to form any sort of response and was saved from further mortifying moments by a middle-aged man clearing his throat behind him. The sound made them both jump a little.
Of course. By now the train arrived at the station and the 50-something businessman standing behind them would much rather depart than be witnessing Myungjun’s burning ears and his stammering.
“I’d better be going then,” Myungjun finally pulled himself together, slung the offending bag over his shoulder and picked up a large folder from his seat.
“Uh, right. Yes.” To his surprise, Myungjun saw the other’s cheeks blush. The cat stranger (Myungjun decided if was a fitting name for him) looked much younger all of a sudden. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then changed his mind, turned abruptly and made his way out of the carriage. Myungjun followed, eyes glued to the man’s rucksack, feeling a strange feeling of loss.
I don’t even know his name.
As he left the train, he cast one more longing look at the black rucksack in front of him and prepared to dive into the sea of rushing people when the cat stranger swivelled around and Myungjun narrowly avoided another collision – this time with the man’s chest.
He gasped lightly and came to a halt.
“Did the green eyes freak you out?” The young man was eyeing Myungjun rather intently, his eyes looking even more striking in the crowd of hundreds of people who all seemed ordinary all of a sudden.
“What?” The question caught Myungjun completely unawares.
“I’m sorry, did they freak you out – they eyes?”
“Uh, no, they didn’t.” I fell in love with them.
“Shame.” The young man looked a little crestfallen.
“What?” God, I’m so eloquent. Way to go to leave a great first impression.
The cat stranger smiled shyly and ducked his head a little. “It was a bet. They are contacts. My friend Minhyuk made me wear them for one whole day. He said they made me look interesting. I think they are just freaky. But nobody today looked even remotely shocked, apart from you. You were my only hope. Looks like I lost the bet then.”
“Well, I kind of guessed they were contacts,” lied Myungjun.
Strictly speaking, guessing requires functioning brain cells and for the last five minutes he didn’t have any left that could be classified as such - but the beautiful stranger didn’t need to know that.
The man in front of him stood completely still for couple of seconds – God, he really looks like a cat, thought Myungjun – as if steeling himself to do something, then blurted out suddenly, “Would you like to go for a drink tonight?”