#312: Cinnamon-sprinkled Churros
Prompt: #312
Title: Cinnamon-sprinkled Churros
Pairing: Chen/L (Infinite)
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word count: 4461 words
Summary: Myungsoo asked Jongdae out to prom last year as friends, but his year is different.
Author's note: bon appétit!
Myungsoo is half asleep on Chanyeol's shoulder. He's enjoying the affectionate pull of clumsy fingers through his hair as he watches Baekhyun chew through his french fries and then Myungsoo's abandoned serving of the potatoes. He's thinking about bees, and whether bees are yellow in order to color coordinate with the pollen that inevitably ends up dusting their jackets, and also whether all pollen is actually yellow.
He finally decides to drag Jongdae with him to the flower shop after school to find out, as long as his best friend is willing and it doesn't start to rain on their way home. For now, though, Myungsoo just wants to let Chanyeol continue stroking his hair while their whole lunch table watches Baekhyun crunch down each fry with determined teeth, not pausing between bites to take even a sip of milk.
Baekhyun's throat has got to be getting dry from all that potato he's swallowing without any liquid lubrication, Myungsoo thinks. Then he wonders if that dry potatoey feeling would have the same sensation as having your throat coated in a generous dusting of yellow pollen.
Baekhyun mashes the last of Myungsoo's relinquished fries in his teeth and stands up with a terrified excitement fluttering in the pulse that's visible on the side of his neck. "Okay," Baekhyun says. Myungsoo holds his breath, tensing in Chanyeol's arms as the fingers still in his hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm gonna do it now! I'm gonna go talk to Heechul!"
"More power to you!" Amber says with a supportive whoop. She thrusts her juice box into Baekhyun's shaking hands in tribute to his bravery.
"He's so insane," Sehun mutters in awe as he smears a moustache of mustard from his hot dog along the curve of his smile with a careless swipe of the back of his wrist. "So insane, asking a senior to prom!"
"But so is Heechul," Howon says with a shrug as he severs a chunk of broccoli at the neck of its stem. "So it just might work."
"Shut up, guys!" Krystal hisses. "I want to hear what they're saying!"
All eleven heads still seated at the most rowdy juniors' table snap around to watch Baekhyun's feat of daring as he approaches the nearby lunch table headed up by tennis champ Jessica Jung with renowned Math Olympiad and amateur fashion designer Heechul Kim seated across from her.
"Hi, Heechul," Baekhyun says, lifting his fingers in his signature flippant wave.
"Hiya, Baek. You sure scarfed down those fries in a hurry! Did you come to raid our table for some more?"
"Nah, I'm not actually hungry today," Baekhyun says with a gulp that is clearly audible to Myungsoo, even across the crowded cafeteria with his head pillowed on Chanyeol's broad shoulder. "Those were just edible courage. I, uh, well!" Baekhyun pauses to let out a tumbleweed of unexpected nervous laughter.
"Come on, buddy! You can do it!" Chanyeol says encouragingly in a voice he probably thinks is a whisper. Myungsoo holds his breath as if his lungs are choked with a golden burst of flower dust.
"I wanted to ask you as my official date to prom," Baekhyun finally manages to spit out without even a hint of terror edging his voice this time.
"Bravo!" Myungsoo whispers into Chanyeol's shirt collar just as Heechul replies,
"Okay!"
What happens next is a bit of a blur to Myungsoo, since he is half asleep after all, distracted by Chanyeol's fingers tugging in his hair and preoccupied with daydreams of golden pollination. What he remembers clearly when he recalls the incident later, however, is how fiercely Heechul kisses Baekhyun, right in front of everyone in the cafeteria.
Heechul swings a leg over the end of the lunch table bench to straddle his seat, grabs Baekhyun's face in both his hands with tender desperation, and yanks him down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal the teenage way-with the romance of spit.
"Wow," Zitao gasps next to Sehun, echoing Myungsoo's thoughts. Woohyun and Kibum and the rest of the seniors break into a standing ovation of applause and Dongwoo sticks his fingers in his teeth to whistle like a self important life guard until one of the teachers makes them all sit down and pries an overjoyed Baekhyun off the suction of Heechul's smug lips.
"Well that was dramatic," Howon says as he shreds another floret of broccoli with the bent tines of his fork.
"How come you didn't do something that exciting when you asked Jongdae out last year? Huh?" Amber pokes at Myungsoo's forehead with the end of her spoon. Myungsoo sits up with a start, but Amber only winks at him.
"You mean, why didn't we make out in the cafeteria?" Jongdae says with a laugh, his eyes twinkling with amusement in the bright fluorescent light of the overhead strip lights. "Probably because we weren't actually dating!"
"You still aren't," Kyungsoo points out with the long suffering sigh that always seems to accompany his statements of the obvious.
"Yeah," Jongdae sighs too, "and I still don't know who I'll bribe to go with me this year..."
If Myungsoo hadn't been half asleep he would have volunteered on the spot to take Jongdae to prom again without thinking twice, but since he was submerged in the placid lake of absent thought the moment passes before he can get the words of invitation out of his mind and into Jongdae's ears.
Zitao starts pestering Henry to loan him a walkthrough manual for some video game before Myungsoo can open his mouth, and then Baekhyun is swaggering back to the group and the whole row of junior tables erupts into cheers.
The thought doesn't leave him alone though, hours after Myungsoo has fixed the padlock on his hallway locker and unlocked the padlock tying his bike to the rack outside the front of their school. He thinks about Jongdae's short dark hair and how nice it looks today all spiked up with a bit of mousse as they walk to the curb of the sidewalk, and then he thinks about how cute he had looked with the frizzy perm he'd rocked last year at prom.
"Are you sure you don't want a ride?" Jongdae swings his car keys on their tacky dolphin emblazoned ring, a gift Chanyeol had brought back from a spring break trip to Jamaica.
"That's okay." Myungsoo shakes his head as a bee hums by his left ear. "I have my bike today, and I have to go to the flower shop on the way home."
"Okay! Take care, dude!" Jongdae claps him on the shoulder before he hurries out into the lot to find his car. He has to go volunteer at the animal shelter today, Myungsoo remembers with an internal sigh. He always forgets that somehow, even though Jongdae always volunteers there on Thursday evenings and Myungsoo should remember his best friend's schedule better.
The things Myungsoo remembers aren't always the ones people expect him to. He's not even sure what he ate for breakfast this morning, though he's pretty sure he ate something because his dad is a firm believer in the precept that the first meal is the most important one of the day. He can, however, tell you what he ate for breakfast approximately 347 days ago, the day he asked Jongdae out to the prom.
He had been sitting at the diner with Chanyeol, having their third refill of greasy coffee when the idea suddenly stung Myungsoo on the nose.
"Hey," he'd said, sitting up in the booth from where he'd been laying on the bench as if it were a coffin bed for a vampire. "What if I asked Jongdae out to prom?"
"Uh, okay," Chanyeol had nodded, ripping an empty Splenda packet into pink bits of sugar free confetti.
"I mean, because I know as his best friend that Jongdae really wants to go with someone to prom. Like, get a corsage and have someone pick him up at the door and shake his father's hand, and take cheesy photos with him and wear matching suits."
"Yeah, that's what he's been saying," Chanyeol had said. "He hasn't exactly been shy about making that known."
"And, I also know that every other openly gay dude at this school is already going steady with someone or has a stag date, so if I asked Jongdae it wouldn't be, like, ruining his other chances or anything."
"Nope, it wouldn't ruin anything," Chanyeol said as he brushed his confetti bits into a neat pile. "Why not go for it? I'm sure Dae would be thrilled to go with you!"
"It's so perfect!" Myungsoo had said, his face falling like a Jenga tower with only 32% of the blocks still intact, "except for one thing..."
"What?"
"I'm not gay." Myungsoo had squinted across the table at Chanyeol's wide eyed expression of attentiveness as if he were trying to decide if there were enough room left in his stomach to order more chili cheese fries. "I mean I don't know for sure what type of person I like or don't like, but if I ask Jongdae it's just because I'd like to do something nice for my best friend, you know? Because if he's happy, then I'm happy too."
"Well sure." Chanyeol had smiled, reaching across their steaming mugs to pat Myungsoo's hair. "He's your best friend, I think as long as you explain it he'll understand."
"But what if other people don't understand?" Myungsoo had gulped down half of his drink in a panic at the thought of Heechul and the black eye he'd sported for two weeks after asking out the captain of the rugby team that year.
"If Jongdae's happy, and you are too because he is, then who cares about what anyone else does or doesn't think?" Chanyeol had shrugged, still smiling, and Myungsoo had felt the tension melt away from shoulders.
"Very, very true," he'd agreed with a grin, feeling the buzz of anticipation start to hum in his stomach. Or maybe that was just the coffee talking, but either way Myungsoo had already been getting excited at the thought of going shopping for bff matching couple shoes with Jongdae. "Okay then! But last hurdle--how do I ask him out? It has to be something special, something epic!"
"Nah, that's simple!" Chanyeol had assured with a low chuckle. "I know just the thing!"
That is how Myungsoo found himself standing underneath Jongdae's balcony twelve hours later, not armed with his usual pebble in a slingshot to alert his bff to sneak out and join him for a moonlit poetry and Poe picnic, complete with chamomile tea in a thermos and chocolate cake. No, that night Jongdae's jaw had dropped when he opened his window and peeked out to find Myungsoo moonwalking across his front lawn, shaking a pair of maracas.
Chanyeol started strumming the chords of the friendship serenade they'd composed together on napkins at the diner, and Howon had come along as well to sing backup vocals.
"Is it already my birthday?" Jongdae had recovered quickly from his shock, grinning down from the balcony. His voice was gravelly with sleep and surprise. "Or did I win a lottery I have yet to hear about and you all have come to grovel for my autograph?"
"Neither, you smart ass," Howon had shouted back, "just shut up and listen!"
But Myungsoo had been so hyped up on adrenaline and also the pure hilarity of the whole situation that when he saw Jongdae's sassy smile glowing in the moonlight he just lost it. He doubled over, maracas rattling in a helpless rhythm at his knees as he laughed his lungs hoarse.
"Um, let's start the intro over and try that again," Chanyeol had announced, expertly transitioning from the chords of the first verse into the intro prelude again. "5, 6, 7, 8!"
Myungsoo filled up his lungs with oxygen, and sang:
"There are so many ways to love,
To share and find a place to call your home!
When push comes to shove,
You'll find you're not alone,
You've got a friend in me!"
"And me,"
"And me!" Chanyeol and Howon had echoed.
"The time has come to go to prom,
To dress up sharp and accompany someone to the ball!
And I've heard you're looking for some--
One to go with, but most of all~
You've got a friend in me!"
"And me,"
"And me!" Chanyeol and Howon had echoed again.
"So, how about it?" Myungsoo had dropped his maracas and dipped down on one knee. "Will you go with me to prom? As my best friend?"
"Wait, are you all three asking me out platonically?" Jongdae squinted, trying to see down into the moonlit yard.
"No," Myungsoo had said, straightening up again with an anxious cough so Jongdae could see the sincere expression on his face more clearly. "Just I am, but yes, platonically. Will you do me the honor of being my official date, Kim Jongdae?"
"I'll have you know that is the tackiest song I have ever heard," Jongdae had said; that time he was the one doubled over with laughter. "But yes, Myungsoo, I'd be so very honored. Thank you so much for asking me! I thought no one was gonna."
"Don't insult my lyrics, Kim!" Chanyeol had shouted, but his loud squawks of laughter ruined any menace in the fist he was shaking at Jongdae. They were all laughing, Chanyeol and Howon slapping Myungsoo on the back in congratulations as Jongdae booked it down the stairs to pull them all into a big group hug. Jongdae was so wound up and happy he had even stolen a light kiss from Myungsoo's cheek in thanks, and Myungsoo was grateful for the dark that hid his blush.
That is the basic version of how Myungsoo asked his bff out to prom last year. They had a lot of fun together, shopping in preparation, taking silly couple pictures with their friends, and jamming to the lame DJed music in the school gym.
With prom coming up again, and since neither Jongdae or Myungsoo have romantic prospects on the horizon, Myungsoo would really like to ask Jongdae to come with him again. Thing is, he contemplates as he whizzes home on his bike with the spring breeze tearing through his hair, he's not sure if he feels the same way about the whole platonic date set up as he did this time last year. Either way, Myungsoo feels like he needs to work out his own feelings beforehand so he can explain them to Jongdae but he's not sure that his problem this year is something Chanyeol can help him solve with just a couple of lines of cheesy couplets composed on a paper napkin...
"Here to pick up flowers for your dad again?" Yesung wipes his hands on his psychedelic paisley apron and smiles behind his Wayfarers; he always asks even though Myungsoo comes every week. Yesung is like that. Myungsoo waits, leaning against the wall, and helps himself to the bowl of tiny chocolate-coated lemon candies that he always assumed Yesung made until he hung around just long enough for-
"Hey old man!" There's a blond boy standing in the open doorway, the wind lifting tendrils of his hair as he holds his skateboard in one hand, half-zipped backpack slung over one arm, shoelaces trailing on the ground. "I brought your candy." Yesung clucks, setting down the baby's breath and once again wiping his hands on the apron as he walks forward to collect the small bag in Yibo's hand, reaching forward to ruffle his hair.
Yibo makes a face, sticking out his tongue and stepping back, but he's smiling as he waves from the door, dropping the skateboard as he jumps on and kicks off. Yesung's face is fond, watching him go for a moment, the motion reflecting across his dark lenses before he turns back to the flowers.
Myungsoo thinks about how sometimes people's actions don't match what they think at all. Yibo sounds like he doesn't like Yesung at all, and Yesung hardly talks to him, but the things they don't say could fill a book.
I wonder if people look at me and think that?
"Hmm, what would you say?" Yesung says, glancing in Myungsoo's direction and dragging him out of his thoughts. "Is this week a pink week or a red week?" Myungsoo eyes the lilies and thinks about what his dad is doing today.
"I think today is baking?" he says, voice rising in a question because he can't quite keep track of these things, only the lingering taste of sugar on his tongue. Yesung licks his lips.
"I'll have to drop by to visit tomorrow," he says consideringly, and Myungsoo laughs. Sometimes Yesung seems so old, not appearance-wise but just in the way nothing seems to ruffle his feathers at all, and other times he's like an evil five year old. He and Yibo are such a good match.
"I'm sure dad will be happy to see you," he says, gathering the bundle carefully and passing Yesung his dad's card. Yesung swipes it on the machine and Myungsoo signs a squiggle with his fingernail.
"You're such a good forger," Yesung laughs. Myungsoo just wrinkles up his face, and then notices the list on the counter, names and colours. Corsages, he realizes, with a start. Prom. Jongdae's face swims into view in his head, and he blinks; Yesung's eyes follow his gaze.
"Anyone you're thinking of asking to prom?" he asks, and it feels like he's staring straight into Myungsoo's eyes through his dark lenses. "Or maybe someone asked you already?" Myungsoo shakes his head.
"I-" He pauses, trying to work out what exactly he wants to say, but he hasn't figured it out yet and the words elude him.
"Hmm," Yesung murmurs, peering at him a moment longer before moving away to start rummaging around the carnations. "Think about it this way. What do you want to eat right now?"
"Churros," Myungsoo says, without hesitation, his mouth watering at the thought. "Cinnamon-sprinkled." Yesung's smile looks strangely hungry, and someone's stomach growls. Oops.
"You are a terrible person," Yesung almost growls, but he doesn't actually move to start eating Myungsoo so he figures he's forgiven. "But think about it, churros are good, right?" Myungsoo nods. "And you like eating them, right?" Myungsoo nods again, wondering where Yesung is going with this. "Then if someone hands you a plate of churros, or better yet, a plate of cinnamon-sprinkled churros, what would you do?"
"Say thank you and eat them?" Myungsoo asks. His stomach is rumbling now, and his dad is probably baking already and he doesn't want to miss poking the dough.
"Exactly!" Yesung exclaims, and his eyes peer intensely over his Wayfarers. He looks like he could use some sleep, but Myungsoo doesn't dare suggest it. "Don't leave them to cool off and go bad on the table!" He waves Myungsoo off then, who walks out the door, slightly bewildered, but Yesung is like that. A summer storm in spring. Myungsoo puts the flowers in the basket of his bicycle and cycles off down the street.
The smell of cinnamon is already drifting down the street, definitely baking today, carried on the wind to sprout wings on his feet as Myungsoo gets a second wind powered by the imminent sweetness on his tongue; he barely gets off the bicycle, coasting to a stop and catching the flowers from the basket as he lets his bicycle clatter to the driveway next to the garage-
"You're late," Yerim sniffs as she opens the front door,
"Or exactly on time," Minho calls from the kitchen, "put the flowers in the vase in the living room, okay?" Myungsoo sticks out his bottom lip, not that there's anyone to see as Yerim has already disappeared into the kitchen, no doubt munching corners already.
"Okay dad!" he calls, toeing off his shoes.
"Stop stealing the dough!" he hears Yerim complain from the kitchen, and smiles. Chanyeol is here, then. Myungsoo unwraps the flowers from the green and brown paper and slips them into the porcelain vase in the living room, fresh water waiting. They smell lovely, but right now he's in the mood for something more edible.
"Guess what?" Yerim pipes up from where she's perched at the counter, heels kicking against the rungs of the stool.
"It's a secret!" Chanyeol exclaims, just as Minho laughs and Yerim flicks a small ball of dough at Chanyeol's forehead.
"He asked Sungyeol to prom!" she says, and Chanyeol turns so red even his ears are burning. Myungsoo is. . .surprised.
"You like Sungyeol?" he asks, blinking. He just. . .he's never really thought about it. Chanyeol only nods, ducking his head.
"He's like, I don't, I can't explain," he says, and Minho reaches over to ruffle his hair.
"You don't have to explain," he says, and Myungsoo smiles at his dad, who somehow knows what to say. "Okay let's get these cinnamon buns rolled!" Everyone stops talking and starts rolling dough with feverish yet precise intensity, it's always a race, who'll be done first, Junmeyon and Jongin home from soccer practice or the baking coming out of the oven. Myungsoo eyes the clock over the archway and figures they've got today in the bag.
They're just popping the last tray into the oven when the front door opens, with the usual commotion of two sweaty and hungry soccer boys bursting in and shedding shoes and bags everywhere.
"I still don't know how you convinced me to help coach soccer," Junmyeon grumbles, clumping into the kitchen on stocking feet as Myungsoo can hear Jongin darting up the steps to snag the shower first. "Today was total chaos but at least they let us out early." He sighs, running his fingers through his hair.
"Because we all know you can't bake," Minho retorts, pressing a quick peck to Junmyeon's sweaty cheek and sticking an end of dough and sugar in his mouth. Yerim squiggles her nose at the display of affection, while Myungsoo just sits and thinks.
"Dad?" he asks, once Junmyeon has headed up the steps on his way to the other shower.
"Hmm?" Minho hums, wiping away the remnants of cinnamon and sugar strewn on the countertop, along with the occasional raisin.
"How did you know you wanted to marry Daddy?" Myungsoo props his elbows on the counter, resting his chin in his hands as he stares at the oven, watching the cinnamon buns bake; he knows from experience that if he just sits and watches they'll take forever, but sometimes he can't help it.
"It's hard to explain," Minho says, a half smile hovering over his face. "It wasn't anything in particular, it was more just everything, I guess?" Myungsoo glances over at Chanyeol, who's still playing with a scrap of leftover dough, kneading it over and over again. "I just thought, who's the person I want to spend the rest of life with, for keeps." From upstairs drifts the sound of two people singing in the shower; a completely discordant harmony and yet somehow it sounds exactly right.
"I think I kind of understand," Myungsoo says, and hops off the stool to help wash the dishes.
He's still thinking about it at school the next day, after Krystal asks Amber to prom over the loudspeakers, during announcements; Myungsoo can only imagine Kyungsoo rolling his eyes in his classroom while he waits for class to start.
He's thinking about it at lunch, as Sehun and Zitao plan how they're going to coordinate their prom outfits, and rows of freshman kids, boys and girls alike, keep glancing at Kyungsoo as he sits, flipping through a textbook and completely ignoring the kids who dart out a few steps and then change their minds and fade back into the bustle of the lunch room chaos.
"Do you think anyone will ask Kyungsoo this year?" Chanyeol asks Baekhyun across the table, flinging fries into the air and catching them with his mouth, stopping to wave at Heechul as he passes by. Baekhyun catches the last fry with the snap of his teeth and grins.
"You didn't hear?" he says, smirking. Even Sehun and Zitao lean forward to listen. "You know Sojin right? The genius girl taking the AP Math and stuff for engineering?" Everyone nods, and Chanyeol's jaw practically drops onto the table.
"He didn't," he breathes, and the table collectively holds its breath, waiting for Baekhyun's answer.
"No," he grins, raising a hand, "she did." A vacuum almost forms over the table as everything suck in a breath-Sehun promptly starts choking on the fry he'd had in his mouth and Zitao has to smack him on the back a few times-
"You're kidding," Jongdae says, eyes darting over to Kyungsoo, still flipping through his textbook.
"He said yes?" Myungsoo asks, curious, even though he's feeling sleepy again after the poutine that Henry dumped on the table and made them all try, all the warm cheese and gravy filling his stomach.
"He said yes," Baekhyun smirks, and goes back to tossing things in his mouth, winking at Heechul as Chanyeol shakes his head in complete wonder at the universe.
It's not so much a conscious decision as Myungsoo merely staying after class, leaning on Jongdae's shoulder and playing with his fingers as Jongdae finishes highlighting the last few lines before shifting his shoulders. Myungsoo is talking before he even realizes it; if last time was a collaborate effort, planned with the help and impetus and support of friends, then it's only fair that the second time around it's just Myungsoo, blinking the tangled cobwebs of dreams out of his eyes.
"Hey, Jongdae," he mumbles, and Jongdae peers down at him curiously. Myungsoo doesn't straighten, just looks up at Jongdae through his eyelashes. "Do you want to go the prom with me?"
Jongdae smiles, but there's a shadow of a question hovering in the folds of his eyes, tucked in the corners of his mouth.
"For keeps, this time," Myungsoo says, and nestles his head deeper into Jongdae's shoulder. The words are simple but the sentiment is anything but; he doesn't know exactly what it all means, but that's life. All Myungsoo knows is that he's happy when Jongdae is happy and right now Jongdae looks like the sun bounced through the window and spread itself over his face.
"Of course I'll eat the churros," Myungsoo mumbles to himself, as Jongdae leans against his head and just looks fond, even though he probably has no idea what Myungsoo is talking about, "cinnamon-sprinkled of course."
Title: Cinnamon-sprinkled Churros
Pairing: Chen/L (Infinite)
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word count: 4461 words
Summary: Myungsoo asked Jongdae out to prom last year as friends, but his year is different.
Author's note: bon appétit!
Myungsoo is half asleep on Chanyeol's shoulder. He's enjoying the affectionate pull of clumsy fingers through his hair as he watches Baekhyun chew through his french fries and then Myungsoo's abandoned serving of the potatoes. He's thinking about bees, and whether bees are yellow in order to color coordinate with the pollen that inevitably ends up dusting their jackets, and also whether all pollen is actually yellow.
He finally decides to drag Jongdae with him to the flower shop after school to find out, as long as his best friend is willing and it doesn't start to rain on their way home. For now, though, Myungsoo just wants to let Chanyeol continue stroking his hair while their whole lunch table watches Baekhyun crunch down each fry with determined teeth, not pausing between bites to take even a sip of milk.
Baekhyun's throat has got to be getting dry from all that potato he's swallowing without any liquid lubrication, Myungsoo thinks. Then he wonders if that dry potatoey feeling would have the same sensation as having your throat coated in a generous dusting of yellow pollen.
Baekhyun mashes the last of Myungsoo's relinquished fries in his teeth and stands up with a terrified excitement fluttering in the pulse that's visible on the side of his neck. "Okay," Baekhyun says. Myungsoo holds his breath, tensing in Chanyeol's arms as the fingers still in his hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm gonna do it now! I'm gonna go talk to Heechul!"
"More power to you!" Amber says with a supportive whoop. She thrusts her juice box into Baekhyun's shaking hands in tribute to his bravery.
"He's so insane," Sehun mutters in awe as he smears a moustache of mustard from his hot dog along the curve of his smile with a careless swipe of the back of his wrist. "So insane, asking a senior to prom!"
"But so is Heechul," Howon says with a shrug as he severs a chunk of broccoli at the neck of its stem. "So it just might work."
"Shut up, guys!" Krystal hisses. "I want to hear what they're saying!"
All eleven heads still seated at the most rowdy juniors' table snap around to watch Baekhyun's feat of daring as he approaches the nearby lunch table headed up by tennis champ Jessica Jung with renowned Math Olympiad and amateur fashion designer Heechul Kim seated across from her.
"Hi, Heechul," Baekhyun says, lifting his fingers in his signature flippant wave.
"Hiya, Baek. You sure scarfed down those fries in a hurry! Did you come to raid our table for some more?"
"Nah, I'm not actually hungry today," Baekhyun says with a gulp that is clearly audible to Myungsoo, even across the crowded cafeteria with his head pillowed on Chanyeol's broad shoulder. "Those were just edible courage. I, uh, well!" Baekhyun pauses to let out a tumbleweed of unexpected nervous laughter.
"Come on, buddy! You can do it!" Chanyeol says encouragingly in a voice he probably thinks is a whisper. Myungsoo holds his breath as if his lungs are choked with a golden burst of flower dust.
"I wanted to ask you as my official date to prom," Baekhyun finally manages to spit out without even a hint of terror edging his voice this time.
"Bravo!" Myungsoo whispers into Chanyeol's shirt collar just as Heechul replies,
"Okay!"
What happens next is a bit of a blur to Myungsoo, since he is half asleep after all, distracted by Chanyeol's fingers tugging in his hair and preoccupied with daydreams of golden pollination. What he remembers clearly when he recalls the incident later, however, is how fiercely Heechul kisses Baekhyun, right in front of everyone in the cafeteria.
Heechul swings a leg over the end of the lunch table bench to straddle his seat, grabs Baekhyun's face in both his hands with tender desperation, and yanks him down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal the teenage way-with the romance of spit.
"Wow," Zitao gasps next to Sehun, echoing Myungsoo's thoughts. Woohyun and Kibum and the rest of the seniors break into a standing ovation of applause and Dongwoo sticks his fingers in his teeth to whistle like a self important life guard until one of the teachers makes them all sit down and pries an overjoyed Baekhyun off the suction of Heechul's smug lips.
"Well that was dramatic," Howon says as he shreds another floret of broccoli with the bent tines of his fork.
"How come you didn't do something that exciting when you asked Jongdae out last year? Huh?" Amber pokes at Myungsoo's forehead with the end of her spoon. Myungsoo sits up with a start, but Amber only winks at him.
"You mean, why didn't we make out in the cafeteria?" Jongdae says with a laugh, his eyes twinkling with amusement in the bright fluorescent light of the overhead strip lights. "Probably because we weren't actually dating!"
"You still aren't," Kyungsoo points out with the long suffering sigh that always seems to accompany his statements of the obvious.
"Yeah," Jongdae sighs too, "and I still don't know who I'll bribe to go with me this year..."
If Myungsoo hadn't been half asleep he would have volunteered on the spot to take Jongdae to prom again without thinking twice, but since he was submerged in the placid lake of absent thought the moment passes before he can get the words of invitation out of his mind and into Jongdae's ears.
Zitao starts pestering Henry to loan him a walkthrough manual for some video game before Myungsoo can open his mouth, and then Baekhyun is swaggering back to the group and the whole row of junior tables erupts into cheers.
The thought doesn't leave him alone though, hours after Myungsoo has fixed the padlock on his hallway locker and unlocked the padlock tying his bike to the rack outside the front of their school. He thinks about Jongdae's short dark hair and how nice it looks today all spiked up with a bit of mousse as they walk to the curb of the sidewalk, and then he thinks about how cute he had looked with the frizzy perm he'd rocked last year at prom.
"Are you sure you don't want a ride?" Jongdae swings his car keys on their tacky dolphin emblazoned ring, a gift Chanyeol had brought back from a spring break trip to Jamaica.
"That's okay." Myungsoo shakes his head as a bee hums by his left ear. "I have my bike today, and I have to go to the flower shop on the way home."
"Okay! Take care, dude!" Jongdae claps him on the shoulder before he hurries out into the lot to find his car. He has to go volunteer at the animal shelter today, Myungsoo remembers with an internal sigh. He always forgets that somehow, even though Jongdae always volunteers there on Thursday evenings and Myungsoo should remember his best friend's schedule better.
The things Myungsoo remembers aren't always the ones people expect him to. He's not even sure what he ate for breakfast this morning, though he's pretty sure he ate something because his dad is a firm believer in the precept that the first meal is the most important one of the day. He can, however, tell you what he ate for breakfast approximately 347 days ago, the day he asked Jongdae out to the prom.
He had been sitting at the diner with Chanyeol, having their third refill of greasy coffee when the idea suddenly stung Myungsoo on the nose.
"Hey," he'd said, sitting up in the booth from where he'd been laying on the bench as if it were a coffin bed for a vampire. "What if I asked Jongdae out to prom?"
"Uh, okay," Chanyeol had nodded, ripping an empty Splenda packet into pink bits of sugar free confetti.
"I mean, because I know as his best friend that Jongdae really wants to go with someone to prom. Like, get a corsage and have someone pick him up at the door and shake his father's hand, and take cheesy photos with him and wear matching suits."
"Yeah, that's what he's been saying," Chanyeol had said. "He hasn't exactly been shy about making that known."
"And, I also know that every other openly gay dude at this school is already going steady with someone or has a stag date, so if I asked Jongdae it wouldn't be, like, ruining his other chances or anything."
"Nope, it wouldn't ruin anything," Chanyeol said as he brushed his confetti bits into a neat pile. "Why not go for it? I'm sure Dae would be thrilled to go with you!"
"It's so perfect!" Myungsoo had said, his face falling like a Jenga tower with only 32% of the blocks still intact, "except for one thing..."
"What?"
"I'm not gay." Myungsoo had squinted across the table at Chanyeol's wide eyed expression of attentiveness as if he were trying to decide if there were enough room left in his stomach to order more chili cheese fries. "I mean I don't know for sure what type of person I like or don't like, but if I ask Jongdae it's just because I'd like to do something nice for my best friend, you know? Because if he's happy, then I'm happy too."
"Well sure." Chanyeol had smiled, reaching across their steaming mugs to pat Myungsoo's hair. "He's your best friend, I think as long as you explain it he'll understand."
"But what if other people don't understand?" Myungsoo had gulped down half of his drink in a panic at the thought of Heechul and the black eye he'd sported for two weeks after asking out the captain of the rugby team that year.
"If Jongdae's happy, and you are too because he is, then who cares about what anyone else does or doesn't think?" Chanyeol had shrugged, still smiling, and Myungsoo had felt the tension melt away from shoulders.
"Very, very true," he'd agreed with a grin, feeling the buzz of anticipation start to hum in his stomach. Or maybe that was just the coffee talking, but either way Myungsoo had already been getting excited at the thought of going shopping for bff matching couple shoes with Jongdae. "Okay then! But last hurdle--how do I ask him out? It has to be something special, something epic!"
"Nah, that's simple!" Chanyeol had assured with a low chuckle. "I know just the thing!"
That is how Myungsoo found himself standing underneath Jongdae's balcony twelve hours later, not armed with his usual pebble in a slingshot to alert his bff to sneak out and join him for a moonlit poetry and Poe picnic, complete with chamomile tea in a thermos and chocolate cake. No, that night Jongdae's jaw had dropped when he opened his window and peeked out to find Myungsoo moonwalking across his front lawn, shaking a pair of maracas.
Chanyeol started strumming the chords of the friendship serenade they'd composed together on napkins at the diner, and Howon had come along as well to sing backup vocals.
"Is it already my birthday?" Jongdae had recovered quickly from his shock, grinning down from the balcony. His voice was gravelly with sleep and surprise. "Or did I win a lottery I have yet to hear about and you all have come to grovel for my autograph?"
"Neither, you smart ass," Howon had shouted back, "just shut up and listen!"
But Myungsoo had been so hyped up on adrenaline and also the pure hilarity of the whole situation that when he saw Jongdae's sassy smile glowing in the moonlight he just lost it. He doubled over, maracas rattling in a helpless rhythm at his knees as he laughed his lungs hoarse.
"Um, let's start the intro over and try that again," Chanyeol had announced, expertly transitioning from the chords of the first verse into the intro prelude again. "5, 6, 7, 8!"
Myungsoo filled up his lungs with oxygen, and sang:
"There are so many ways to love,
To share and find a place to call your home!
When push comes to shove,
You'll find you're not alone,
You've got a friend in me!"
"And me,"
"And me!" Chanyeol and Howon had echoed.
"The time has come to go to prom,
To dress up sharp and accompany someone to the ball!
And I've heard you're looking for some--
One to go with, but most of all~
You've got a friend in me!"
"And me,"
"And me!" Chanyeol and Howon had echoed again.
"So, how about it?" Myungsoo had dropped his maracas and dipped down on one knee. "Will you go with me to prom? As my best friend?"
"Wait, are you all three asking me out platonically?" Jongdae squinted, trying to see down into the moonlit yard.
"No," Myungsoo had said, straightening up again with an anxious cough so Jongdae could see the sincere expression on his face more clearly. "Just I am, but yes, platonically. Will you do me the honor of being my official date, Kim Jongdae?"
"I'll have you know that is the tackiest song I have ever heard," Jongdae had said; that time he was the one doubled over with laughter. "But yes, Myungsoo, I'd be so very honored. Thank you so much for asking me! I thought no one was gonna."
"Don't insult my lyrics, Kim!" Chanyeol had shouted, but his loud squawks of laughter ruined any menace in the fist he was shaking at Jongdae. They were all laughing, Chanyeol and Howon slapping Myungsoo on the back in congratulations as Jongdae booked it down the stairs to pull them all into a big group hug. Jongdae was so wound up and happy he had even stolen a light kiss from Myungsoo's cheek in thanks, and Myungsoo was grateful for the dark that hid his blush.
That is the basic version of how Myungsoo asked his bff out to prom last year. They had a lot of fun together, shopping in preparation, taking silly couple pictures with their friends, and jamming to the lame DJed music in the school gym.
With prom coming up again, and since neither Jongdae or Myungsoo have romantic prospects on the horizon, Myungsoo would really like to ask Jongdae to come with him again. Thing is, he contemplates as he whizzes home on his bike with the spring breeze tearing through his hair, he's not sure if he feels the same way about the whole platonic date set up as he did this time last year. Either way, Myungsoo feels like he needs to work out his own feelings beforehand so he can explain them to Jongdae but he's not sure that his problem this year is something Chanyeol can help him solve with just a couple of lines of cheesy couplets composed on a paper napkin...
"Here to pick up flowers for your dad again?" Yesung wipes his hands on his psychedelic paisley apron and smiles behind his Wayfarers; he always asks even though Myungsoo comes every week. Yesung is like that. Myungsoo waits, leaning against the wall, and helps himself to the bowl of tiny chocolate-coated lemon candies that he always assumed Yesung made until he hung around just long enough for-
"Hey old man!" There's a blond boy standing in the open doorway, the wind lifting tendrils of his hair as he holds his skateboard in one hand, half-zipped backpack slung over one arm, shoelaces trailing on the ground. "I brought your candy." Yesung clucks, setting down the baby's breath and once again wiping his hands on the apron as he walks forward to collect the small bag in Yibo's hand, reaching forward to ruffle his hair.
Yibo makes a face, sticking out his tongue and stepping back, but he's smiling as he waves from the door, dropping the skateboard as he jumps on and kicks off. Yesung's face is fond, watching him go for a moment, the motion reflecting across his dark lenses before he turns back to the flowers.
Myungsoo thinks about how sometimes people's actions don't match what they think at all. Yibo sounds like he doesn't like Yesung at all, and Yesung hardly talks to him, but the things they don't say could fill a book.
I wonder if people look at me and think that?
"Hmm, what would you say?" Yesung says, glancing in Myungsoo's direction and dragging him out of his thoughts. "Is this week a pink week or a red week?" Myungsoo eyes the lilies and thinks about what his dad is doing today.
"I think today is baking?" he says, voice rising in a question because he can't quite keep track of these things, only the lingering taste of sugar on his tongue. Yesung licks his lips.
"I'll have to drop by to visit tomorrow," he says consideringly, and Myungsoo laughs. Sometimes Yesung seems so old, not appearance-wise but just in the way nothing seems to ruffle his feathers at all, and other times he's like an evil five year old. He and Yibo are such a good match.
"I'm sure dad will be happy to see you," he says, gathering the bundle carefully and passing Yesung his dad's card. Yesung swipes it on the machine and Myungsoo signs a squiggle with his fingernail.
"You're such a good forger," Yesung laughs. Myungsoo just wrinkles up his face, and then notices the list on the counter, names and colours. Corsages, he realizes, with a start. Prom. Jongdae's face swims into view in his head, and he blinks; Yesung's eyes follow his gaze.
"Anyone you're thinking of asking to prom?" he asks, and it feels like he's staring straight into Myungsoo's eyes through his dark lenses. "Or maybe someone asked you already?" Myungsoo shakes his head.
"I-" He pauses, trying to work out what exactly he wants to say, but he hasn't figured it out yet and the words elude him.
"Hmm," Yesung murmurs, peering at him a moment longer before moving away to start rummaging around the carnations. "Think about it this way. What do you want to eat right now?"
"Churros," Myungsoo says, without hesitation, his mouth watering at the thought. "Cinnamon-sprinkled." Yesung's smile looks strangely hungry, and someone's stomach growls. Oops.
"You are a terrible person," Yesung almost growls, but he doesn't actually move to start eating Myungsoo so he figures he's forgiven. "But think about it, churros are good, right?" Myungsoo nods. "And you like eating them, right?" Myungsoo nods again, wondering where Yesung is going with this. "Then if someone hands you a plate of churros, or better yet, a plate of cinnamon-sprinkled churros, what would you do?"
"Say thank you and eat them?" Myungsoo asks. His stomach is rumbling now, and his dad is probably baking already and he doesn't want to miss poking the dough.
"Exactly!" Yesung exclaims, and his eyes peer intensely over his Wayfarers. He looks like he could use some sleep, but Myungsoo doesn't dare suggest it. "Don't leave them to cool off and go bad on the table!" He waves Myungsoo off then, who walks out the door, slightly bewildered, but Yesung is like that. A summer storm in spring. Myungsoo puts the flowers in the basket of his bicycle and cycles off down the street.
The smell of cinnamon is already drifting down the street, definitely baking today, carried on the wind to sprout wings on his feet as Myungsoo gets a second wind powered by the imminent sweetness on his tongue; he barely gets off the bicycle, coasting to a stop and catching the flowers from the basket as he lets his bicycle clatter to the driveway next to the garage-
"You're late," Yerim sniffs as she opens the front door,
"Or exactly on time," Minho calls from the kitchen, "put the flowers in the vase in the living room, okay?" Myungsoo sticks out his bottom lip, not that there's anyone to see as Yerim has already disappeared into the kitchen, no doubt munching corners already.
"Okay dad!" he calls, toeing off his shoes.
"Stop stealing the dough!" he hears Yerim complain from the kitchen, and smiles. Chanyeol is here, then. Myungsoo unwraps the flowers from the green and brown paper and slips them into the porcelain vase in the living room, fresh water waiting. They smell lovely, but right now he's in the mood for something more edible.
"Guess what?" Yerim pipes up from where she's perched at the counter, heels kicking against the rungs of the stool.
"It's a secret!" Chanyeol exclaims, just as Minho laughs and Yerim flicks a small ball of dough at Chanyeol's forehead.
"He asked Sungyeol to prom!" she says, and Chanyeol turns so red even his ears are burning. Myungsoo is. . .surprised.
"You like Sungyeol?" he asks, blinking. He just. . .he's never really thought about it. Chanyeol only nods, ducking his head.
"He's like, I don't, I can't explain," he says, and Minho reaches over to ruffle his hair.
"You don't have to explain," he says, and Myungsoo smiles at his dad, who somehow knows what to say. "Okay let's get these cinnamon buns rolled!" Everyone stops talking and starts rolling dough with feverish yet precise intensity, it's always a race, who'll be done first, Junmeyon and Jongin home from soccer practice or the baking coming out of the oven. Myungsoo eyes the clock over the archway and figures they've got today in the bag.
They're just popping the last tray into the oven when the front door opens, with the usual commotion of two sweaty and hungry soccer boys bursting in and shedding shoes and bags everywhere.
"I still don't know how you convinced me to help coach soccer," Junmyeon grumbles, clumping into the kitchen on stocking feet as Myungsoo can hear Jongin darting up the steps to snag the shower first. "Today was total chaos but at least they let us out early." He sighs, running his fingers through his hair.
"Because we all know you can't bake," Minho retorts, pressing a quick peck to Junmyeon's sweaty cheek and sticking an end of dough and sugar in his mouth. Yerim squiggles her nose at the display of affection, while Myungsoo just sits and thinks.
"Dad?" he asks, once Junmyeon has headed up the steps on his way to the other shower.
"Hmm?" Minho hums, wiping away the remnants of cinnamon and sugar strewn on the countertop, along with the occasional raisin.
"How did you know you wanted to marry Daddy?" Myungsoo props his elbows on the counter, resting his chin in his hands as he stares at the oven, watching the cinnamon buns bake; he knows from experience that if he just sits and watches they'll take forever, but sometimes he can't help it.
"It's hard to explain," Minho says, a half smile hovering over his face. "It wasn't anything in particular, it was more just everything, I guess?" Myungsoo glances over at Chanyeol, who's still playing with a scrap of leftover dough, kneading it over and over again. "I just thought, who's the person I want to spend the rest of life with, for keeps." From upstairs drifts the sound of two people singing in the shower; a completely discordant harmony and yet somehow it sounds exactly right.
"I think I kind of understand," Myungsoo says, and hops off the stool to help wash the dishes.
He's still thinking about it at school the next day, after Krystal asks Amber to prom over the loudspeakers, during announcements; Myungsoo can only imagine Kyungsoo rolling his eyes in his classroom while he waits for class to start.
He's thinking about it at lunch, as Sehun and Zitao plan how they're going to coordinate their prom outfits, and rows of freshman kids, boys and girls alike, keep glancing at Kyungsoo as he sits, flipping through a textbook and completely ignoring the kids who dart out a few steps and then change their minds and fade back into the bustle of the lunch room chaos.
"Do you think anyone will ask Kyungsoo this year?" Chanyeol asks Baekhyun across the table, flinging fries into the air and catching them with his mouth, stopping to wave at Heechul as he passes by. Baekhyun catches the last fry with the snap of his teeth and grins.
"You didn't hear?" he says, smirking. Even Sehun and Zitao lean forward to listen. "You know Sojin right? The genius girl taking the AP Math and stuff for engineering?" Everyone nods, and Chanyeol's jaw practically drops onto the table.
"He didn't," he breathes, and the table collectively holds its breath, waiting for Baekhyun's answer.
"No," he grins, raising a hand, "she did." A vacuum almost forms over the table as everything suck in a breath-Sehun promptly starts choking on the fry he'd had in his mouth and Zitao has to smack him on the back a few times-
"You're kidding," Jongdae says, eyes darting over to Kyungsoo, still flipping through his textbook.
"He said yes?" Myungsoo asks, curious, even though he's feeling sleepy again after the poutine that Henry dumped on the table and made them all try, all the warm cheese and gravy filling his stomach.
"He said yes," Baekhyun smirks, and goes back to tossing things in his mouth, winking at Heechul as Chanyeol shakes his head in complete wonder at the universe.
It's not so much a conscious decision as Myungsoo merely staying after class, leaning on Jongdae's shoulder and playing with his fingers as Jongdae finishes highlighting the last few lines before shifting his shoulders. Myungsoo is talking before he even realizes it; if last time was a collaborate effort, planned with the help and impetus and support of friends, then it's only fair that the second time around it's just Myungsoo, blinking the tangled cobwebs of dreams out of his eyes.
"Hey, Jongdae," he mumbles, and Jongdae peers down at him curiously. Myungsoo doesn't straighten, just looks up at Jongdae through his eyelashes. "Do you want to go the prom with me?"
Jongdae smiles, but there's a shadow of a question hovering in the folds of his eyes, tucked in the corners of his mouth.
"For keeps, this time," Myungsoo says, and nestles his head deeper into Jongdae's shoulder. The words are simple but the sentiment is anything but; he doesn't know exactly what it all means, but that's life. All Myungsoo knows is that he's happy when Jongdae is happy and right now Jongdae looks like the sun bounced through the window and spread itself over his face.
"Of course I'll eat the churros," Myungsoo mumbles to himself, as Jongdae leans against his head and just looks fond, even though he probably has no idea what Myungsoo is talking about, "cinnamon-sprinkled of course."