[01]
you smile, sun shines
EXO, NU'EST, f(x). 2,655w. PG.
Written for intoaclub. Thank you J♡ for all your help!
Title from EXO's "Baby Don't Cry."
Jongin wakes up at 2 p.m. on the day of his birthday to a silent apartment and an empty notification bar on his cell phone. He’s a little disappointed, but also somewhat relieved-his friends are notorious for their birthday pranks, so maybe turning twenty-one in peace isn’t all that bad. He’s making his way to the bathroom when his foot slips against something just in front of the door. It’s a small black envelope with his name written on the front in cursive gold lettering. The writing is unfamiliar, but Jongin suspects the card is from Joonmyun; he’s not sure any of his other friends would go for such a classic look.
Turning it over in his hands, Jongin breaks the gold wax seal and pulls out the card, frowning when he sees it’s not a birthday card at all. You are cordially invited…
*
“What have you guys done?” Jongin moans when Sehun opens the door at Joonmyun and Zitao’s apartment. He flaps the card in Sehun’s face.
“I don’t know what that is,” Sehun says, not even looking, “but it’s very nice. A birthday card from Joonmyun?” He leans against the doorframe to stop Jongin when he makes a move for the living room after he’s kicked off his shoes and dumped his jacket into Sehun’s arms. “You can’t go in there until later,” Sehun informs him. “We didn’t know when you’d wake up, so they’re not ready yet.”
“How many of you guys paid for this?” Jongin tries again. “How much did you guys pay for this? It’s a joke, right?” Sehun ignores Jongin’s questions in favour of telling him that Joonmyun baked his birthday cake, so even if it tastes terrible, Jongin had better pretend it’s delicious. “I’m sure it’ll taste fine,” Jongin says, rolling his eyes. Sehun warns him of the perils of optimism.
Jongin spends the next half-hour in the foyer, unsuccessfully trying to get Sehun to open up about the little invitation card he’s still holding. To his dismay, Sehun merely dodges all of Jongin’s questions and instead peppers him with anecdotes about the new dance class he’s enrolled in, and Jongin is interested enough to allow himself to be distracted.
“Hey, happy birthday!” Chanyeol pauses on his way past the foyer, carrying a small bucket of what looks like cream. “Did you like your present?”
“Do you like rocks?” Jongin winds his arm back, miming a throw. “What are you doing? What is that?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chanyeol says easily, ambling away. “Ran out of room in the kitchen.”
“Let me out of here soon, or I will go get rocks,” Jongin says darkly. “And then you will truly know pain.”
Chanyeol cackles as he disappears from Jongin’s line of sight.
It’s another ten minutes before Chanyeol finally hollers from the dining room to give Jongin and Sehun permission to leave the foyer. “You can come in now, talk to some real people!”
“Hey,” Sehun protests. Their trip to the dining room is accompanied by peals of Chanyeol’s noisy laughter, and Sehun scowls all the way.
*
“Okay, so,” Jongin says, brandishing the invitation card. “Explain.”
They’ve finished their dinner (home-assembled, despite Sehun’s insistence on calling it homemade. “You didn’t even do anything,” Jongin points out) and each had a slice of Joonmyun’s surprisingly good cake, so Jongin figures it’s high time for someone to explain the invitation to him. He’s still convinced it must be a joke; a prank for his birthday.
“Well, it’s self-explanatory, really,” Joonmyun begins, only to be interrupted by Zitao, who earnestly tells Jongin through a mouthful of his second piece of cake that they’re worried about him.
“You know,” Zitao says, stabbing a strawberry with his fork, “’cause it’s been a while since you last dated someone. And we all know your last breakup was-”
“I’m fine,” Jongin starts, then changes tack. “You guys thought the best solution was to pay the buy-in for me to attend a speed-dating event at a highly exclusive lounge?”
“It’ll be great,” Chanyeol says earnestly, clapping him on the back. “It’ll be fun!”
“Yeah,” Zitao chimes in, “you’ll probably meet someone rich.” He sounds a little envious.
“It’ll be terrible,” Jongin says. “I hate you all.” He turns to Joonmyun. “I can’t believe you would betray me like this. What did I ever do to you?”
“I didn’t betray you,” Joonmyun says mildly. “Actually, I think it’s a good idea. But maybe we shouldn’t have sprung it on you. Or stranded you with Sehun for an hour.”
“Hey.” Sehun looks up from his cake in protest, and Zitao seizes the opportunity to steal a forkful. “Jongin loves me.”
“You wish I loved you,” Jongin retorts. “I don’t love any of you.”
“But I’m so beautiful,” Zitao whines, “everyone should love me.” He straightens up all of a sudden, leaning forward to stare intently at Jongin, eyes narrowing in concentration. “You should totally let me dress you for tomorrow. I’ll make you look so hot.”
“Oh, no,” Jongin groans. “No fur coats or leopard print.”
Chanyeol snickers, and Zitao kicks him under the table, grazing Jongin’s ankle on the way. Joonmyun clicks his tongue at them in distress, but they ignore him; Chanyeol puts Zitao in a headlock and blows furiously in his ear.
“Uh, I actually don’t know what to wear, though,” Jongin admits, looking on with dismay at the kerfuffle unfolding before him.
“Just wear black,” Sehun says dispassionately, zoning in on a stray Pepero stick. “Trust me.”
*
Jongin doesn’t trust him. He video chats Taemin when he gets home, even though it’s the middle of the workday in America, and voices his plea for help in the short bursts of silence between Taemin’s shrieks of delight.
“How are you not afraid of getting into trouble at work?” Jongin asks, exasperated, watching Taemin, still shaking with mirth, wipe at the corners of his eyes. “I really need to know what to wear, come on.”
“Sehun is right,” Taemin says, after a short moment of consideration. “You should wear black, it makes your ass look nice.” He shrugs. “Not as nice as mine, though.”
Jongin hangs up on him.
*
Zitao drops Jongin off at the lounge over an hour before the event is set to start. “You want to get some coffee while I wait?” Jongin asks, but Zitao just smirks, does a three-finger wave, and rides off on his motorbike. Zitao is convinced speed-dating is a battle one must ride into fully prepared (“What if all the good ones get snatched up before you get a chance?” he'd asked earlier, a little panicked). Jongin appreciates that Zitao wanted to provide him with ample time to scope out his surroundings and plan tactics, but now Jongin is so early, the venue is still in disarray.
He is wearing black, as advised: a black peacoat over a black dress shirt tucked into the most flattering black pants he owns. He feels like he should be wearing a white bowtie. Jongin hovers awkwardly at the door for a while, wondering if he should come back later, and has just made up his mind to leave when a hostess notices him and rushes over.
“Sorry about the mess! Are you here for the event tonight?” She spots the invitation in Jongin’s hand before he can reply, and beams. “It’ll be great, I promise. A lot of people are nervous the first time they try speed-dating, but everyone always enjoys themselves. I mean it! I’m Jinri, by the way. Can I take your coat?”
Jongin thanks Jinri and hands her his coat, trailing behind her when she beckons to him. They weave through the mess of tables and chairs, skirting around employees busy arranging and rearranging the furniture, and end up in front of the bar.
“Hey,” Jinri calls out, drumming two manicured nails against the cherry wood of the bar top, “Aaron, I’ve brought you a customer!”
A guy with thick eyebrows who looks younger than Jongin sticks his head out from the kitchen and grins when he sees them. “Coming, coming,” Aaron says, as he leaves the kitchen and steps behind the bar. He grabs a half apron slung over the bar and ties it around his waist as he introduces himself to Jongin. “You can call me Youngmin if you want,” he offers, but Jongin likes the way ‘Aaron’ sounds, and says so.
Jinri lets out a delighted laugh. “Well, I guess you two are going to get along just fine! I have to get back to work, but I’m sure Aaron can keep you entertained for the next hour or so, Jongin. Have fun later!”
Jongin starts to thank Jinri at the same time as Aaron promises to do his utmost to prevent Jongin from spending even a single minute being bored. Aaron waggles his eyebrows, which sets Jinri off in a fit of laughter, and even as she waves at them and walks off, they can still hear her boisterous laughter trailing behind her like clanging bells.
“She’s great, isn’t she?” Aaron nods his head in Jinri’s direction. “Love working with her.” Jongin agrees, grinning, and watches as Aaron wipes down the bar. Once he’s done, Aaron gestures to the shelves stocked full of alcohol behind him and raises one eyebrow. “So, Jongin,” he says, “what’s your poison?”
Jongin is a little overwhelmed by the rows upon rows of different brands of the same liquors, the various carefully crafted bottles. After half a minute of trying to figure out his chances of not randomly selecting something he’ll hate, he admits to Aaron that he doesn’t really know that much about alcohol. “We mostly drink domestic, I guess. Soju, makgeolli, maekju… I’ve had some imported beers, but usually we drink Cass.” Aaron laughs at that, but motions for him to continue. Jongin shrugs. “That’s it, really. Vodka, sometimes.”
Aaron makes a noise Jongin can’t decipher; it’s either dismay or delight. He’s scared to ask, yet not even sure why he cares. “Well, let’s get going, then,” Aaron says. “How well can you hold your liquor?” Jongin blinks, and Aaron laughs again. “You’ve got lots to learn, dude, but you’ve gotta be sober for speed-dating later, or it’ll be my ass. Come on, it’s all on the house.”
Half an hour later, empty shot glasses litter the bar in front of Jongin. “What do you want to try next?” Aaron asks him, but Jongin shakes his head.
“I don’t think I can taste anything anymore,” he explains. “I’m still pretty sober… I think… but everything just tastes like alcohol.”
“It happens,” Aaron says, setting down a basket of peanuts and trail mix beside Jongin and handing him a glass of water. “-Clean, I promise. You do handle liquor pretty well, though, I’m impressed.” He grabs a grey tub and starts unceremoniously plonking Jongin’s empty shot glasses into it. “You still have some time before you have to get set up on the floor. How shall I entertain you?”
“Actually, I could help you with those,” Jongin offers, but Aaron waves him away.
“Jinri would have my head. You could entertain me while I get set up, though. Tell me about yourself, y’know.”
Jongin makes a noncommittal noise. “Am I allowed behind the bar?”
“No,” Aaron says, but he’s winking exaggeratedly, tilting his head to one side and opening his mouth wide. Jongin laughs and slides off his bar stool.
*
He’s sitting on the floor behind the bar, leaning against a cabinet door, when Jinri comes to collect him ten minutes before the speed-dating event is set to start. Aaron is rearranging bottles and polishing glasses as he listens to Jongin rattle off anecdotes about his pet dogs. “Fast friends, are we?” she says, beaming again, and Jongin stops talking about Monggu to tell Jinri she smiles like the sun. “Did you get him drunk?” she asks Aaron accusingly, but Jongin can tell she’s kind of pleased.
“Would I ever?” Aaron grins, setting down his dishcloth. “He’s fine.”
“I am fine,” Jongin announces, pulling himself to standing position and brushing haphazardly at the back of his pants with his hands.
“Ooh,” Aaron says, at the same time as Jinri lets out a shout of laughter. “You might be fine, but your pants are not, dude.”
*
Jinri is right; Jongin does enjoy himself during the speed-dating event. And Zitao is wrong; there are plenty of good ones to go around. At the end of the night, Jongin has marked down a few names on his potentials list, and he’s pleased to discover that one of them, a Chinese expatriate named Lu Han, has written Jongin down on his own potentials list. They stand by the tables to chat after the event has officially ended. Jongin learns that Lu Han originally moved to Korea to pursue music, but has since changed careers. He now designs layouts for a magazine. Lu Han laughs when he learns Jongin is still in school, but it’s not unkind. “Just surprised,” he says. “I thought you were closer to my age.”
“Well, I’m old enough to drink, anyway,” Jongin replies, grinning. “Anything I can get you?”
Lu Han asks for a bottle of Tsingtao beer. “Sorry,” he says, smiling apologetically, “I just can’t get used to the taste of Cass.”
As he heads to the bar to get their drinks, something warms inside of Jongin to hear a sudden gurgle of laughter from behind him, like it’s been surprised out of Lu Han. He hopes it’s at the dusty state of his pants.
*
“Hey,” Aaron says when it’s finally Jongin’s turn at the bar. “What can I get your friend?”
“What about me?” Jongin asks. “You don’t want to serve this frequent customer?”
“You, sir, should have been cut off long ago.” Aaron’s lips twitch. “Too many shots.”
“That’s a pity,” Jongin says, “’cause I really wanted one of those pink cocktails.”
Aaron laughs. Loudly. “If you promise to drink it, I’ll make you one,” he says, waggling his eyebrows, cocktail shaker ready in one hand.
“It tastes like watermelon, right?” Jongin slides onto a bar stool to watch and wait. “Show me some fancy tricks, barkeep.”
Three minutes later, Aaron slides a pink cocktail, perfectly garnished with a curl of orange peel on the side of the glass. Jongin takes a sip and nearly forgets to ask for Lu Han’s Tsingtao beer; the words, already in his mouth, fall off his tongue.
“Good, right?” Jinri asks as she walks by with a tray of empty glasses. “Aaron’s isn’t like anyone else’s that I’ve ever tried. No idea what he puts in it, but I swear this is the number one reason we can’t ever fire him.”
“You mean this is just business between us?” Aaron calls out from where he’s bent over under the bar. “I’m hurt, Jinri.”
She laughs, taps the bar twice, then disappears into the crowd with her tray.
“What are you doing down there?” Jongin asks, listening to Aaron rummaging around, causing bottles to clink together. “I need a-”
“I know,” Aaron says, popping up from beneath the bar. He places a bottle of Tsingtao beer on in front of Jongin. “He comes in here sometimes,” Aaron tells him. “Don’t worry, I’m not a mind reader.”
“Thanks,” Jongin says, lifting the beer in a mock-salute. He turns to go, then stops, frowning slightly. “Hey, are you really cutting me off?”
“Just for tonight.” Aaron shrugs. “You really have had a lot. But you know-” he smiles, and for a moment Jongin thinks the sun rises in that smile, too “-come by any time.”
Jongin holds the beer bottle up again. “You got it,” he says, trying out Zitao’s three-finger wave. Aaron snorts. Jongin turns around, drinks in hand, and walks back to where Lu Han is waiting.
EXO, NU'EST, f(x). 2,655w. PG.
Written for intoaclub. Thank you J♡ for all your help!
Title from EXO's "Baby Don't Cry."
Jongin wakes up at 2 p.m. on the day of his birthday to a silent apartment and an empty notification bar on his cell phone. He’s a little disappointed, but also somewhat relieved-his friends are notorious for their birthday pranks, so maybe turning twenty-one in peace isn’t all that bad. He’s making his way to the bathroom when his foot slips against something just in front of the door. It’s a small black envelope with his name written on the front in cursive gold lettering. The writing is unfamiliar, but Jongin suspects the card is from Joonmyun; he’s not sure any of his other friends would go for such a classic look.
Turning it over in his hands, Jongin breaks the gold wax seal and pulls out the card, frowning when he sees it’s not a birthday card at all. You are cordially invited…
*
“What have you guys done?” Jongin moans when Sehun opens the door at Joonmyun and Zitao’s apartment. He flaps the card in Sehun’s face.
“I don’t know what that is,” Sehun says, not even looking, “but it’s very nice. A birthday card from Joonmyun?” He leans against the doorframe to stop Jongin when he makes a move for the living room after he’s kicked off his shoes and dumped his jacket into Sehun’s arms. “You can’t go in there until later,” Sehun informs him. “We didn’t know when you’d wake up, so they’re not ready yet.”
“How many of you guys paid for this?” Jongin tries again. “How much did you guys pay for this? It’s a joke, right?” Sehun ignores Jongin’s questions in favour of telling him that Joonmyun baked his birthday cake, so even if it tastes terrible, Jongin had better pretend it’s delicious. “I’m sure it’ll taste fine,” Jongin says, rolling his eyes. Sehun warns him of the perils of optimism.
Jongin spends the next half-hour in the foyer, unsuccessfully trying to get Sehun to open up about the little invitation card he’s still holding. To his dismay, Sehun merely dodges all of Jongin’s questions and instead peppers him with anecdotes about the new dance class he’s enrolled in, and Jongin is interested enough to allow himself to be distracted.
“Hey, happy birthday!” Chanyeol pauses on his way past the foyer, carrying a small bucket of what looks like cream. “Did you like your present?”
“Do you like rocks?” Jongin winds his arm back, miming a throw. “What are you doing? What is that?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chanyeol says easily, ambling away. “Ran out of room in the kitchen.”
“Let me out of here soon, or I will go get rocks,” Jongin says darkly. “And then you will truly know pain.”
Chanyeol cackles as he disappears from Jongin’s line of sight.
It’s another ten minutes before Chanyeol finally hollers from the dining room to give Jongin and Sehun permission to leave the foyer. “You can come in now, talk to some real people!”
“Hey,” Sehun protests. Their trip to the dining room is accompanied by peals of Chanyeol’s noisy laughter, and Sehun scowls all the way.
*
“Okay, so,” Jongin says, brandishing the invitation card. “Explain.”
They’ve finished their dinner (home-assembled, despite Sehun’s insistence on calling it homemade. “You didn’t even do anything,” Jongin points out) and each had a slice of Joonmyun’s surprisingly good cake, so Jongin figures it’s high time for someone to explain the invitation to him. He’s still convinced it must be a joke; a prank for his birthday.
“Well, it’s self-explanatory, really,” Joonmyun begins, only to be interrupted by Zitao, who earnestly tells Jongin through a mouthful of his second piece of cake that they’re worried about him.
“You know,” Zitao says, stabbing a strawberry with his fork, “’cause it’s been a while since you last dated someone. And we all know your last breakup was-”
“I’m fine,” Jongin starts, then changes tack. “You guys thought the best solution was to pay the buy-in for me to attend a speed-dating event at a highly exclusive lounge?”
“It’ll be great,” Chanyeol says earnestly, clapping him on the back. “It’ll be fun!”
“Yeah,” Zitao chimes in, “you’ll probably meet someone rich.” He sounds a little envious.
“It’ll be terrible,” Jongin says. “I hate you all.” He turns to Joonmyun. “I can’t believe you would betray me like this. What did I ever do to you?”
“I didn’t betray you,” Joonmyun says mildly. “Actually, I think it’s a good idea. But maybe we shouldn’t have sprung it on you. Or stranded you with Sehun for an hour.”
“Hey.” Sehun looks up from his cake in protest, and Zitao seizes the opportunity to steal a forkful. “Jongin loves me.”
“You wish I loved you,” Jongin retorts. “I don’t love any of you.”
“But I’m so beautiful,” Zitao whines, “everyone should love me.” He straightens up all of a sudden, leaning forward to stare intently at Jongin, eyes narrowing in concentration. “You should totally let me dress you for tomorrow. I’ll make you look so hot.”
“Oh, no,” Jongin groans. “No fur coats or leopard print.”
Chanyeol snickers, and Zitao kicks him under the table, grazing Jongin’s ankle on the way. Joonmyun clicks his tongue at them in distress, but they ignore him; Chanyeol puts Zitao in a headlock and blows furiously in his ear.
“Uh, I actually don’t know what to wear, though,” Jongin admits, looking on with dismay at the kerfuffle unfolding before him.
“Just wear black,” Sehun says dispassionately, zoning in on a stray Pepero stick. “Trust me.”
*
Jongin doesn’t trust him. He video chats Taemin when he gets home, even though it’s the middle of the workday in America, and voices his plea for help in the short bursts of silence between Taemin’s shrieks of delight.
“How are you not afraid of getting into trouble at work?” Jongin asks, exasperated, watching Taemin, still shaking with mirth, wipe at the corners of his eyes. “I really need to know what to wear, come on.”
“Sehun is right,” Taemin says, after a short moment of consideration. “You should wear black, it makes your ass look nice.” He shrugs. “Not as nice as mine, though.”
Jongin hangs up on him.
*
Zitao drops Jongin off at the lounge over an hour before the event is set to start. “You want to get some coffee while I wait?” Jongin asks, but Zitao just smirks, does a three-finger wave, and rides off on his motorbike. Zitao is convinced speed-dating is a battle one must ride into fully prepared (“What if all the good ones get snatched up before you get a chance?” he'd asked earlier, a little panicked). Jongin appreciates that Zitao wanted to provide him with ample time to scope out his surroundings and plan tactics, but now Jongin is so early, the venue is still in disarray.
He is wearing black, as advised: a black peacoat over a black dress shirt tucked into the most flattering black pants he owns. He feels like he should be wearing a white bowtie. Jongin hovers awkwardly at the door for a while, wondering if he should come back later, and has just made up his mind to leave when a hostess notices him and rushes over.
“Sorry about the mess! Are you here for the event tonight?” She spots the invitation in Jongin’s hand before he can reply, and beams. “It’ll be great, I promise. A lot of people are nervous the first time they try speed-dating, but everyone always enjoys themselves. I mean it! I’m Jinri, by the way. Can I take your coat?”
Jongin thanks Jinri and hands her his coat, trailing behind her when she beckons to him. They weave through the mess of tables and chairs, skirting around employees busy arranging and rearranging the furniture, and end up in front of the bar.
“Hey,” Jinri calls out, drumming two manicured nails against the cherry wood of the bar top, “Aaron, I’ve brought you a customer!”
A guy with thick eyebrows who looks younger than Jongin sticks his head out from the kitchen and grins when he sees them. “Coming, coming,” Aaron says, as he leaves the kitchen and steps behind the bar. He grabs a half apron slung over the bar and ties it around his waist as he introduces himself to Jongin. “You can call me Youngmin if you want,” he offers, but Jongin likes the way ‘Aaron’ sounds, and says so.
Jinri lets out a delighted laugh. “Well, I guess you two are going to get along just fine! I have to get back to work, but I’m sure Aaron can keep you entertained for the next hour or so, Jongin. Have fun later!”
Jongin starts to thank Jinri at the same time as Aaron promises to do his utmost to prevent Jongin from spending even a single minute being bored. Aaron waggles his eyebrows, which sets Jinri off in a fit of laughter, and even as she waves at them and walks off, they can still hear her boisterous laughter trailing behind her like clanging bells.
“She’s great, isn’t she?” Aaron nods his head in Jinri’s direction. “Love working with her.” Jongin agrees, grinning, and watches as Aaron wipes down the bar. Once he’s done, Aaron gestures to the shelves stocked full of alcohol behind him and raises one eyebrow. “So, Jongin,” he says, “what’s your poison?”
Jongin is a little overwhelmed by the rows upon rows of different brands of the same liquors, the various carefully crafted bottles. After half a minute of trying to figure out his chances of not randomly selecting something he’ll hate, he admits to Aaron that he doesn’t really know that much about alcohol. “We mostly drink domestic, I guess. Soju, makgeolli, maekju… I’ve had some imported beers, but usually we drink Cass.” Aaron laughs at that, but motions for him to continue. Jongin shrugs. “That’s it, really. Vodka, sometimes.”
Aaron makes a noise Jongin can’t decipher; it’s either dismay or delight. He’s scared to ask, yet not even sure why he cares. “Well, let’s get going, then,” Aaron says. “How well can you hold your liquor?” Jongin blinks, and Aaron laughs again. “You’ve got lots to learn, dude, but you’ve gotta be sober for speed-dating later, or it’ll be my ass. Come on, it’s all on the house.”
Half an hour later, empty shot glasses litter the bar in front of Jongin. “What do you want to try next?” Aaron asks him, but Jongin shakes his head.
“I don’t think I can taste anything anymore,” he explains. “I’m still pretty sober… I think… but everything just tastes like alcohol.”
“It happens,” Aaron says, setting down a basket of peanuts and trail mix beside Jongin and handing him a glass of water. “-Clean, I promise. You do handle liquor pretty well, though, I’m impressed.” He grabs a grey tub and starts unceremoniously plonking Jongin’s empty shot glasses into it. “You still have some time before you have to get set up on the floor. How shall I entertain you?”
“Actually, I could help you with those,” Jongin offers, but Aaron waves him away.
“Jinri would have my head. You could entertain me while I get set up, though. Tell me about yourself, y’know.”
Jongin makes a noncommittal noise. “Am I allowed behind the bar?”
“No,” Aaron says, but he’s winking exaggeratedly, tilting his head to one side and opening his mouth wide. Jongin laughs and slides off his bar stool.
*
He’s sitting on the floor behind the bar, leaning against a cabinet door, when Jinri comes to collect him ten minutes before the speed-dating event is set to start. Aaron is rearranging bottles and polishing glasses as he listens to Jongin rattle off anecdotes about his pet dogs. “Fast friends, are we?” she says, beaming again, and Jongin stops talking about Monggu to tell Jinri she smiles like the sun. “Did you get him drunk?” she asks Aaron accusingly, but Jongin can tell she’s kind of pleased.
“Would I ever?” Aaron grins, setting down his dishcloth. “He’s fine.”
“I am fine,” Jongin announces, pulling himself to standing position and brushing haphazardly at the back of his pants with his hands.
“Ooh,” Aaron says, at the same time as Jinri lets out a shout of laughter. “You might be fine, but your pants are not, dude.”
*
Jinri is right; Jongin does enjoy himself during the speed-dating event. And Zitao is wrong; there are plenty of good ones to go around. At the end of the night, Jongin has marked down a few names on his potentials list, and he’s pleased to discover that one of them, a Chinese expatriate named Lu Han, has written Jongin down on his own potentials list. They stand by the tables to chat after the event has officially ended. Jongin learns that Lu Han originally moved to Korea to pursue music, but has since changed careers. He now designs layouts for a magazine. Lu Han laughs when he learns Jongin is still in school, but it’s not unkind. “Just surprised,” he says. “I thought you were closer to my age.”
“Well, I’m old enough to drink, anyway,” Jongin replies, grinning. “Anything I can get you?”
Lu Han asks for a bottle of Tsingtao beer. “Sorry,” he says, smiling apologetically, “I just can’t get used to the taste of Cass.”
As he heads to the bar to get their drinks, something warms inside of Jongin to hear a sudden gurgle of laughter from behind him, like it’s been surprised out of Lu Han. He hopes it’s at the dusty state of his pants.
*
“Hey,” Aaron says when it’s finally Jongin’s turn at the bar. “What can I get your friend?”
“What about me?” Jongin asks. “You don’t want to serve this frequent customer?”
“You, sir, should have been cut off long ago.” Aaron’s lips twitch. “Too many shots.”
“That’s a pity,” Jongin says, “’cause I really wanted one of those pink cocktails.”
Aaron laughs. Loudly. “If you promise to drink it, I’ll make you one,” he says, waggling his eyebrows, cocktail shaker ready in one hand.
“It tastes like watermelon, right?” Jongin slides onto a bar stool to watch and wait. “Show me some fancy tricks, barkeep.”
Three minutes later, Aaron slides a pink cocktail, perfectly garnished with a curl of orange peel on the side of the glass. Jongin takes a sip and nearly forgets to ask for Lu Han’s Tsingtao beer; the words, already in his mouth, fall off his tongue.
“Good, right?” Jinri asks as she walks by with a tray of empty glasses. “Aaron’s isn’t like anyone else’s that I’ve ever tried. No idea what he puts in it, but I swear this is the number one reason we can’t ever fire him.”
“You mean this is just business between us?” Aaron calls out from where he’s bent over under the bar. “I’m hurt, Jinri.”
She laughs, taps the bar twice, then disappears into the crowd with her tray.
“What are you doing down there?” Jongin asks, listening to Aaron rummaging around, causing bottles to clink together. “I need a-”
“I know,” Aaron says, popping up from beneath the bar. He places a bottle of Tsingtao beer on in front of Jongin. “He comes in here sometimes,” Aaron tells him. “Don’t worry, I’m not a mind reader.”
“Thanks,” Jongin says, lifting the beer in a mock-salute. He turns to go, then stops, frowning slightly. “Hey, are you really cutting me off?”
“Just for tonight.” Aaron shrugs. “You really have had a lot. But you know-” he smiles, and for a moment Jongin thinks the sun rises in that smile, too “-come by any time.”
Jongin holds the beer bottle up again. “You got it,” he says, trying out Zitao’s three-finger wave. Aaron snorts. Jongin turns around, drinks in hand, and walks back to where Lu Han is waiting.