black coffee | soonhoon

Four

They walk for a few minutes before they reached a huge crossroad. Jeonghan absentmindedly presses the button and the wait sign flashes obnoxiously.

Jihoon taps his foot nonchalantly on the pavement, humming a soft little tune that he made a couple of days ago as he waits to cross. The wind beats violently at his coat and creeps up his trouser legs, sending a shiver straight through him. Across the town centre, the clock tower reads 3:30pm and the sun is quickly sinking in the sky, casting a soft pink hue through the candy floss clouds.

The green man appears, beckoning them all forwards but as Jeonghan moves on ahead, Jihoon is about to follow when he feels a hand on his shoulder stopping him short.

Junhui pulls him further from the crowd, waiting for the younger's attention. He points through the crowds to an alley, "Hey, isn't that Hoseok?"

Jihoon looks. The alley a little way down the street opposite looks empty at first, but then a figure steps forward into the light. Red hair, a sharp, bright face.

"Yeah," Jihoon says. "It is him."

"Are you gonna talk to him?" Junhui looks slightly nervous, not wanting his friend to get out of control.

"Yeah," he looks at the elder and notices the frown and thoughtful expression. "Don't worry, I'll be nice. Maybe. See you tomorrow."

He walks off, leaving Junhui watching the back of him get further and further away, crossing over the road with determination and walking into the same alley that Hoseok appeared from. He sighs and turns back to run after Jeonghan.

Jihoon hears his own footsteps echo off of the brightly painted walls and worn down floors. He stops and admires the intricate artwork sprayed haphazardly across the crumbling walls; the air is tainted with the toxins of cheap spray paint but the outcome is nothing short of breathtaking.

"Beautiful isn't it?" A voice appears from his right, and Jihoon turns and his eyes flare straight into none other than Jung Hoseok's. The red haired boy steps back, leaning against a skip probably left in the alley years ago by the owner of one of the buildings surrounding the place.

"You've got 3 minutes, Hoseok. Explain to me why you did it." Interrogation leaches into his harsh tone, piercing Hoseok like a freshly sharpened knife.

Hoseok chuckles- but there's something in his voice too. Brokenness. Pain. Regret? "I don't suppose if I tell you I didn't mean to, you'll believe me?"

Jihoon scoffs, "That's exactly what you said last time. And last time, you promised not to do it again." He kicks a broken glass bottle further down the alleyway, scuffing his shoes along the ground.

"And like last time, it's the goddamn truth, Jihoon. I would never cheat on Yoongi. I love him- so fucking much. Like last time, I tried to push the bitch off of me and like last time, Yoongi took what he saw and assumed what happened. Which I can't really blame him for- really -considering some of the shit I've done. But I- I swear I never meant to. I'm sorry. I don't know what else I can say. I may not be mega famous but I still have obsessive fans. They can be... a lot to deal with sometimes." His voice cracks as he speaks, his eyes shining too brightly to be of happiness.

Jihoon stays deep in thought for a moment. "And what if I agreed to help you again?"

"I'd do anything to repay you?"

"Was that a question?"

Hoseok pauses, then replies with a steadier voice, "No."

The younger holds out his hand, "You better not make me regret this, Hope."

Hoseok finally breaks into a smile, a huge smile that makes his dimples show. It looks like it's for the first time in days- perhaps it is? -and he shakes Jihoon's small hand. "Thanks, Woozi."

Woozi. Jihoon had always liked that name. Maybe that's why he chose it as his artist name- if he ever got to release his own music.

"It's only because I think you're cute together. And you make him smile. I like seeing him smile."

The two go their separate ways after bidding a plain goodbye. As Jihoon leaves the alley and merges with the people on the Main Street, a text pings through on his phone.

MamaHan
Junhui dragged me to the bookshop again. He wants another romance. Come save me please.

Jihoon can't help the contagious smile that breaks out onto his face. His friends are amazing- all of them. Their group is mismatched and incomplete, but even so it's one of the best.

He instinctively knows which bookshop. There's a specific one that Junhui always goes to on the corner by the boardwalk. According to Junhui, they have a bigger selection of romance books than any other shop in the country. So naturally, Junhui is drawn to it like a moth is to light.

He reaches the shop in a record time of 1 minute 29 seconds, knowing that Jeonghan would skin his kneecaps if he didn't hurry the fuck up.

"So, why do you like romance books so much Hui?" Jihoon asks out of pure curiosity, as he watches Junhui gaze lovingly at shelves upon shelves of sickeningly sappy books filled with love and sweetness and bleh.

"Because I can tell you right now that the chances of me falling in love are lower than hell, so I read romance to fill the empty void that is my heart." He says it matter-of-factly, as if he's explained it a million times to countless people and has it memorised off by heart.

"Damn, that was deep." Jeonghan inputs from the armchair in the corner. He watches the two with bemusement. "All I know is that this armchair is the comfiest thing I've ever sat on."

Jihoon chuckles, moving past Junhui to choose a book of his own.

Music: remember us for centuries.

He flips it over. It's a book about the history of all types of punk, rock and metal. He nods, liking the sound of it.

He pays for it, but notices a page missing in the back. After a moment of thought, he decides to still buy it, as there wasn't another copy and honestly, as much as he hated people destroying books, one page wasn't going to mean much in a book this big.

It strains against the weak plastic bag he puts it in, to the point where Jihoon just wraps it up and carries it under his arm until they leave.

It's starting to get late, so the three boys split off and walk to their homes. Jihoon reaches his at just gone seven o'clock, when he is greeted by a tomatoey smell.

"Mmmm, hyung, what's cooking?" He asks as he pokes his head round the kitchen door.

Yoongi stands at the cooker, with a wooden spoon in his hand and beads of sweat o his forehead.

"I don't know really, but it smells kinda good."