Nabi - Tumblr Posts
나비 / NABI — ONE.
SYNOPSIS. in which you’re trying your damned best to willfully ignore your feelings for your friend of over twenty years, but— as always— life seems to have a different plan paved out for you.
PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment) to lovers, romance, humor, hurt/comfort but more on comfort, coming of age, slowburn, college! au, “it’s always been you” trope, pining, tons of denial, beomgyu is the only man ever, featuring a large ensemble of idols from various groups. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, alcohol consumption, rumors as a plot device, mentions of sex, a few minor injuries. WORD COUNT. 9k (out of 40k).
NOTE. hehe...it’s here. this first part is a little short and slow, but things are gonna start picking up from here! please let me know what you think so far 😭😭 half my soul was injected into writing the entirety of this i will never be the same again 💔 also, i recommend listening to beomgyu’s covers while reading this and the upcoming chapters HAHA anyhow, please enjoy!
모기 / MOGI — ONE — TWO — THREE
YOU STILL DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. Ever since you and he reconciled and publicly became friends again, your life has never known quiet— all thanks to the countless insects constantly buzzing around him, and by consequence around you, every damn day. And it’s not like you can keep avoiding him. Choi Beomgyu has made the executive decision to take advantage of the guilt you’ve been feeling, so for the past month, you’ve been a slave to his whims.
Responding to 3AM ice cream runs even though you’re swamped with assignments. Going to parties hosted by people you don’t know the fucking names of because he keeps calling you a boring loser. And, the cherry on top, having to deal with Lee Heeseung’s even more annoying presence, just like how you’d predicted he’d behave if he ever finds out you and Beomgyu are friends.
Which he did. Much to your despair and agony.
“Beomgyu, your girlfriend’s here to see you.”
Case in point. You spare him nothing but an eye roll when he lets you in the clubroom of the, ahem, coding club. You’re here because Beomgyu texted you to fetch him a matcha latte and since you’re playing as his slave at the moment (and until your patience runs out), you obliged out of the kindness of your heart, only to get a truckload of teasing in return.
“Oh, hey, what’s up,” Yeonjun throws you a peace sign from their worn out sofa by the door the moment you enter. He’s accompanied by a good number of chip bags on the cushions.
“Hey,” Hanbin greets you as well when you pass by their alleged meeting table. Which, by the way, has stacks of leftover takeout containers and some empty, some half-empty plastic jugs of water. “Beomgyu is on the computer.”
“Thanks,” you tell him. This clubroom is a fucking gremlin hole.
“You know what.” Your path towards Choi Beomgyu is interrupted by Hyunjin, suddenly popping out of the half-wall separating the lounge area from the computers at the back. You jump, because what the fuck? “My heart races everytime you come here. I still get flashbacks from the day you threatened to wreck our safe haven. I think you gave me PTSD.”
Ah, yes. That day. That was eventful. It was the first time you’ve seen Choi Beomgyu cry.
“Serves you right, gossip snorter,” you say. “Out of the way, I have business to deal with.”
Hyunjin indeed gets out of your way, and there he reveals a row of four computers lined up against the wall with their assigned nerds mashing on the keyboards and yelling profanities at matching game screens. You zero in on the one on the far left corner. Surprisingly, Beomgyu is relatively calm compared to the others. You tap on his shoulder. He turns his head around.
“Oh,” he says, pulling his office chair back from out of the desk with a swivel while removing the headphones from his ears and letting them rest around his neck. You notice Jeongin seated beside him, who looks up at you only for a moment only to flinch back to the screen. “You’re here?”
No, shit. You jangle the latte in front of his face, head cocked, and he reaches out for it. But then you quickly jerk back your hand before he can snatch it from you. “Nuh-uh. Pay up.”
“Tch,” Beomgyu clicks his tongue and shoots you a bitter look. “Hyung, can you toss me my jacket?”
Someone from behind does indeed toss him his jacket, and at that very moment as well, Heeseung decides that it’s a great time to indulge in his newly founded hobby. “Hey, how about me? Why didn’t you get me a drink?” He joins the already crowded crevice in the back and swings an arm around your shoulder. “You get a boyfriend and forget all your friends. Have you forgotten that you two got together because of me? I’m hurt, I’m so hurt.”
Your face scrunches up. “Literally, how many times do I have to tell you he’s not my boyfriend.” You elbow Heeseung off, eliciting another whine from him. When your eyes snap back at Beomgyu, you see that he’s preoccupied with going through wallet. You kick his chair. “Say something, dipshit.”
Beomgyu hands you a bill and exchanges it with the matcha latte. You wait for him to speak. He takes a long sip, pulls his face away from the straw with a grimace, hands back the drink to you, then says, “What she said.”
You look at him, drink now back in your hands.
“What the fuck?”
“Keep it,” he says, putting his headphones back on. “Don’t you have class?”
Your jaw clenches. Fucker made you run an errand for nothing. He gives you an asshat smile of goodbye then spins his chair back to his computer. You scoff and smack the back of his head, causing his headphones to slip off. “Bye.”
“Hey!”
“Later,” Heeseung bids you off, and it’s followed by a chorus of goodbyes from the inhabitants of the testosterone infested, stinky gamer cave. Seriously, every time you drop by here, you feel an ounce of your soul shriveling up and rotting away. Yeonjun very politely opens the door for you. You hear one of them yell out before you leave.
“Come over tomorrow. Hanbin hyung’s treating us to pizza!”
And with that, you’re finally free, matcha latte in hand and a desire to breathe in some fresh air because you’re pretty sure the air is polluted in there. But still. It’s been a lot easier to breathe recently than when you two weren’t on good terms.
“Saved you a seat.”
You make it to class two minutes before the schedule. Minjeong proudly taps on the seat next to her, and you take the invitation. “As you should,” you hum, taking out your notes from your bag, and not long after Sungchan arrives and lands on the spot next to you.
It’s the week before finals. Prof Shin starts the class and decides to fuck all of your study schedules by giving a last minute assignment due next week as well.
“Does this guy want to give us depression before the summer or some shit?” Minjeong complains the moment your professor leaves the lecture hall.“I swear to god, if another prof gives us an assignment due over the break, I’m killing myself.”
“You two have plans over the break?” asks Sungchan, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and the three of you head out for lunch, funneling out into the hallway along with the rest of your blockmates.
“I’m going home,” says Minjeong.
“I have summer classes,” you answer.
Sungchan stops in his tracks. “You serious?”
“Yup.”
“You bet on it.”
He looks at the both of you like you’re a bunch of withering old ladies and he’s very much unimpressed. “Make some time for the last week. I’m throwing the wildest summer rager and you two can’t miss it.”
You’re pretty sure you replied with something along the lines of an agreement, but you’re not quite sure. The thought completely slips out of your head throughout the next week because, well, finals. And before you know it, your first semester of uni comes to a close, and summer comes crashing in at full swing.
#1: YOU STILL DON’T LIKE HIM FOR WASTING SO MUCH OF YOUR TIME. It’s eight in the morning. Monday. You’re standing in front of Choi Beomgyu’s door.
Knock, knock, knock.
It’s the start of your summer semester so you thought you ought to make something healthy just to kick things off on a good note, but as you were scavenging ingredients for fried rice, you realized you were out of salt so that’s why you’re here. You knock on his door again, three times, and you manage to finish watching five more Instagram reel clips before Beomgyu finally answers the door.
Creak.
“Took you long eno—”
You’re caught off guard by the mop of shaggy hair greeting you, clearly having just woken up. His eyebrows are knitted together while he lets out a yawn. He’s in a tank top. It rides up a little when he stretches his arm to reach for an itch on his back.
“What?” he rasps with a grunt, squinting at you after he’s finally settled himself into reality. “Why the hell are you up so early?”
You clear your throat. “Got any salt?”
Beomgyu blinks at you, processing your words. Then he steps back, points a thumb towards his kitchen, and nudges his head in the same direction. “Go crazy.”
With that, Beomgyu lets you monopolize his kitchen cupboards while he flops onto the sofa. You laugh seeing him practically melt into the cushions. He’s never been a morning person. You’re pretty sure he fell asleep like three hours ago.
“I’m gonna steal some of your chives too,” you inform. Beomgyu makes a muffled noise that you assume is a yes, so you go ahead and take the liberty. When you pop out of his kitchen area, you see him in a not very spine-healthy posture on the same sofa while scrolling through his phone. “I’ll drop off some bokkeumbap later.”
Beomgyu’s eyes flit up from his phone and he wiggles into a more normal position. “Do you have plans today?”
“Class,” you answer on your way back out.
“It’s summer?” he says. “Did your dumb ass get your calendars mixed up?”
You roll your eyes, stopping right before the door with your hand on the knob and turn your head to face him. “I thought I could use the early credits so I won’t have to take too many classes in my fourth year. So I could focus on my internship and all.”
There’s a pause. You can see the three dots slowly appearing in succession above Beomgyu’s bedhead. “Oh,” he says. There’s a drop in his voice. Only for a second. “Well, have fun, nerd.”
You stick your tongue out and leave his apartment with your borrowed goods, returning once more after you’ve finished cooking to give him a portion. Honestly, without the food your moms send over, you’re pretty sure he’d be living exclusively off of takeout.
Anyhow, you head to campus for your first summer lecture, and— for the first time god knows how long— your entire day is spent with a lingering, and almost unusual echo of quiet.
“That’s it for our syllabus. We’ll be starting our full swing of classes next week. See you.”
When you exit the lecture hall, the hallway is near empty. The courtyard too, with only a few students littered about underneath the midday sun. It’s so quiet, it’s weird. Around this time, you’d usually be having lunch with Sungchan and Minjeong, sometimes Beomgyu, sometimes Heeseung, but that brat’s not around right now either because he’s on vacation.
Not having anything to do, you decide to stop by the campus cafe— Horangnabi. You don’t go here often, committed to the shop near your apartment because, well, it’s more convenient for your morning coffees, but you weren’t able to grab one earlier since you cooked breakfast. Might as well get a latte before you leave campus.
“Hi, welcome!”
You’re greeted by the barista, and like most of campus, it’s pretty empty inside as well. "A spanish latte, please. Iced.” While making your order, a sign on the counter catches your eye.
Part-timers, now hiring. You blink, letting it settle for a moment. Maybe for too long of a moment, because the whir of the milk frother snaps back your attention.
“Are you interested?”
The barista slides you your drink over the counter with a smile. You take it and press your lips together in a moment of thought.
You only have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and it’s too inconvenient, not to mention expensive to go home, back and forth from Seoul to Daegu and vice versa, on the days in between. Most of your friends are on vacation or went back to their hometowns over the break so you have no one to hang out with over the summer. And you could use the extra money.
“I don’t have any experience, though,” you tell her.
“That’s fine. You’ll get a few days of training,” she answers.
Tempting. You’re almost convinced. “What if I just want to work for the summer? Can I quit when the next semester starts?”
“A lot of students do that,” she hums. You see her take a square of tissue paper from the display, jotting down a series of numbers before sliding it over to you as well. “Julie. Call me if you wanna take the bait.”
You spare one more second to ponder. Then you take the number from under her fingers and carefully stuff it into your pocket. “Thanks.”
The heat has finally settled the moment you exit the cafe, a little bell jingle trailing you from behind, and you take a mental note to bring an umbrella with you from this day forward. Their coffee is good, you have to admit. If you work there for a good month or two, maybe you’d even end up saving cash by making your own drinks instead of having to buy them.
You decide to take the path through the parking lot to make your exit. There’s more trees around, meaning more shade because it’s really freaking hot. It’s very bare in the lot. You pass by a few cars, of which you assume belong to faculty and staff, until one of them honks at you, and you flinch to a halt.
Another honk. Your brows furrow. Looking around, you try to find the culprit, but you end up moving your head in just the right direction for the sun to beam its light directly into your eyes, blinding you temporarily, and you wince. God damn it. You hear another honk again, and you feel yourself start to get irritated. It’s coming from behind you. You spin your heels, vision still muddy from the direct sun attack, but nevertheless you start walking.
“Seriously, who the hell keeps fucking— oh!”
You bump into someone. You feel them balance you by your shoulders.
“You should’ve seen how dumb you looked.” You hear a snicker. Of fucking course, it’s Choi Beomgyu. Who else would it be? “But hey, you make a pretty good pigeon jerking your head around like that.”
“Fuck you,” you jab his arms off. “What are you even doing here?”
Beomgyu notices your coffee and takes a shameless sip from it before answering, “Get in the car. It’s so freaking hot out, jesus.”
You don’t really have a choice because he practically shoves you into the passenger’s seat. So gentle. You nearly spill your drink all over when your ass lands on the leather cushion.
“I was just about to sleep again after you dropped off the food earlier,” he explains while starting the car, and you watch him intently. Whenever your schedules matched, you’d sometimes go to and from uni together. But you can’t seem to get used to the image of your friend acting like a responsible adult. It’s fucking with you a bit. “But then I got a message from Prof Kim, asking if I could come by the office today.”
He pulls out of the parking lot, and the cool air finally settles into your skin. “For what?” Beomgyu lets out a groan. Must’ve been for a not great reason.
“The EMC department is hosting a conference of some sorts this year and he asked if I could be a volunteer facilitator, ask a few others from the department to help and join along too.”
“Oh? You gonna do it?”
“Ugh. I don’t know.” You pass through security out the main gate and start heading back to your apartment. “I wanted to come home over the break but the working days for this thing will apparently last throughout the summer. Prof Kim did say this will be minused from my volunteer hours, but I don’t know.” Beomgyu then gives you a side eye all of a sudden. “Speaking of. You undutiful daughter.”
“What?” you leer.
“Your mom hoped that you’d be home for the summer, too. Why didn’t you ask her first before enrolling for summer classes?”
“Why the hell do you two keep talking about me behind my back?” You’re shriveling up. Seriously, why does your mom contact him before you? This is getting ridiculous. “And I’m doing all this so I can graduate early and find a job early, by the way. I don’t even have a full week of classes so I can still come home the first week of July.”
Apparently, you two argued for long enough to finally reach your building.
“Tell me when you plan on going home,” he says, leaning against the wall beside your door watching as you key in your passcode to your unit.
“Obviously,” you roll your eyes, smiling. The door unlocks. You push it open. “You’re my free ride after all.”
Now, your expected response from that is another retort from him, how you’ve been exploiting his kindness and whatnot and you’d have to snark back as well. But for some reason Beomgyu just stays quiet. He says nothing, an unreadable look on his face as he looks at yours. You raise a brow.
“What is it this time?”
Choi Beomgyu says nothing. He lifts up an arm, points his index finger near your face, and jabs his finger straight into your forehead.
“I’ll send you a review of your bokkeumbap later.” He laughs at your appalled expression.
“You’d be shocked to find out it’s better than my mom’s,” you say back, a hand tending to the spot he just attacked unprompted.
“You wish.”
“Eat shit.”
“Oh, I definitely will.”
You send him a kick, which he dodges before fleeing into the safety of his apartment. Slippery bastard. Anyhow, you call it a day and settle into your own place. Few hours later, Beomgyu indeed sends you a review of your cooking with a photo of an empty dish attached. Three out of five, he says. Slippery bastard turned ungrateful bastard.
The next day, you’re at Horangnabi again. The night prior, you called Julie’s number and gave her the news that you’re in, and she told you to come an hour before opening so they can get you settled.
You come in with a greeting, and you see Julie look up from behind the counter to wave you in with a smile. “You’re here! Hanbin, come meet our new part-timer.”
At the mention of Hanbin’s name, you immediately double take, and emerging from the door to what you assume is the storage area is indeed the Hanbin you know from the coding club.
“You!” you immediately shriek, almost feeling a hint of betrayal because this is the first time you’ve seen him in daylight, because their clubroom is always so fucking dark. And in something other than the god damned flannels everyone in their club is always so fond of wearing like it’s an unspoken uniform. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, so it is you!” Hanbin happily exclaims. “I thought it was just someone with the same name.”
Julie was delighted to find out you two already knew each other. You skip all the necessary introductions and jump in head first into getting acquainted with the equipment instead.
“We’ll go through all of the drinks first. I also have the recipes printed out over here in case you need reference.”
Having a familiar face in an unfamiliar workplace is indeed a pleasant surprise, but there’s also a familiar sense of dread to have one of Beomgyu’s coding club buddies in here. Granted, he doesn’t annoy or tease you as much as the others, but those guys have already given themselves a label in your head, and Sung Hanbin is no exception to your collective bad impression.
“And then you twist the handle— just like that.”
You’re in the middle of your first latte, the espresso machine up and running. After which, Hanbin teaches you how to use the milk steamer without any difficulty, and you pour the milk into the same cup as the espresso you made earlier. “Wow,” Hanbin remarks. “You’re pretty good at this.”
“I think it’s all thanks to the caffeine I’ve ingested,” you say. “Skill buff. Or whatever you guys say.”
Hanbin laughs and compliments your latte once more. Needless to say, it doesn’t take long for your discomfort to completely disappear because at this point in time, Beomgyu’s friends would already start asking you about him— where he is, why isn’t he with you, etcetera etcetera. But his name has not left Hanbin’s mouth even once, and it’s already the end of your first day.
“It’s always slow here, except on rare occasions, so you’ll be able to handle it with no problems,” Julie says before sending you off. “Anyway, Hanbin and I will be around during your shifts, so you can run to us in case a particularly grumpy student comes to order.”
Hanbin gives you a thumbs up and a bright grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
And that’s how you established your new routine for the rest of the summer. It’s just like Julie said. Things are pretty slow. The only notable thing that happened on your second day at work is Beomgyu sending you a very unflattering, low-angle selfie under the blinding lights of the faculty office glaring behind his head with the text message that he said yes to volunteering for the conference. Sad face emoji included.
On Thursday, Julie taught you how to make a damn good waffle. On Monday next week, you got your first shitty customer. Finally on Friday, you decided to open your skeleton closet to Hanbin, because not once since your a little over a week of working here has he asked you about the whereabouts of Choi Beomgyu.
“You and Beomgyu are friends right?”
There aren’t any customers except for the regulars from Bio that are almost always found in the corner of the cafe until closing. Hanbin is wiping the already squeaky clean counter because there is nothing to do. “Yes?” he answers, a smile on his face, but with a tone that’s evidently confused. “So are you?”
Christ. Now you’re the one bringing that bastard up. “Right. It’s just a little odd.” There, you bring up what you’ve observed so far since working here, and the fact that you and him have shared actual conversations not involving your old friend, and how it’s pretty surprising to you. “One time, I thought someone was going to confess to me. Turns out he just wanted me to convince Beomgyu to help him rank up in League.”
“Well, I don’t really need any help in that area.” Hanbin laughs, shaking his head. “Sounds like you and him have been friends for a long time.”
Neither of you have told anyone about your history. No reason in particular. Beomgyu just never found the need to tell his friends that you’ve known each other from birth, and neither have you. But Hanbin’s presence, when separated from the rest of his friends, just feels like a blanket of comfort, and you find yourself spilling your guts to him— including the previous three to four month cold war you caused and the reasons.
Hanbin is patient. He listens the entire time with an attentiveness you can only compare to a saint. “I guess being a social butterfly has its unintentional consequences. I’m just happy to hear you two made up.”
“I probably would never regularly step foot in your dungeon hole otherwise.”
He laughs. “The guys in the club also tease you a lot, don’t they? Doesn’t it bother you?”
You press your lips together. “Yeah, but at this point it’s just white noise to me now.”
Hanbin looks at you. “That doesn’t mean you enjoy it either.”
Well. He’s not wrong.
Your conversation gets cut short with the cafe bell signaling the entrance of customers. You look at the door. It’s a whole stampede of people. It’s Choi Beomgyu and his friends and you can’t even go on a day of talking about them without them showing up.
“Whoa, I’ve never been here before.”
“Dude, you’re in your third year. Where the hell have you been?”
“Doesn’t Hanbin hyung work here—”
“Yeah, let’s ask him to give us free cookies.”
“Hyunjin, buy me a drink.”
“Buy your own drink, nerd.”
“Hi, I’ll have an iced americano, and a— o-oh, my god.”
You’re face to face with Yang Jeongin who nearly pisses himself upon the recognition that it’s you behind the corner. It dominoes to the rest of the group. You don’t know why they’re being so dramatic. You let out a huff and a sigh. “An iced americano and…?”
Jeongin doesn’t get to answer. Beomgyu unwedges himself from the group and squeezes his way to the counter. “You work here now?”
You cock a brow. “Uh. Yeah.”
“Since when?” he immediately follows up. You’re a little taken aback.
“Since last Tuesday,” you answer after recounting. Beomgyu makes a face that burrows a pit in your stomach.
“You didn’t tell me.”
Okay. Now you’re very taken aback. There’s a cough from the crowd. And then a very intuitive, not-so-hushed remark from one of the boys. “Holy shit. They’re having a lovers’ quarrel.”
It hits a nerve. Hanbin quickly dissuades anything before you could open your mouth. “So, what are you guys ordering?”
The amount of drinks to make and pastries to bring out gets you busy for a while, but you still keep an eye on Beomgyu, watching as he settles back to normal joking mode with his friends while you try to find an opening to talk to him. You and Hanbin finish making all their orders, so you ask him if you can be excused for a moment. He tells you to go ahead and you make your way to Beomgyu, who’s sitting on one of the ends of the three conjoined tables in the more spacious corner of the store.
He’s talking to Yeonjun. When Yeonjun notices you approaching, he immediately quiets down, so you take this as permission to interrupt. You tap on Beomgyu’s shoulder. “Hey.” He turns around and looks up. “You good?”
Beomgyu opens his mouth, about to say something— “Ahem,” — but then Yeonjun clears his throat, accidentally catching the attention of the rest of the boys, and they’re suddenly popping out their heads like meerkats in your direction. “Should I give you two some space?”
“What’s going on?”
“They’re having a moment.”
“Oh my god.”
“Do you guys sell popcorn?”
You’re used to their teasing. You’re used to their bullshit, really. You’re fine if they pull on your hair strands inside their clubroom, but for fuck’s sake this is a public space. Heeseung isn’t even around, but it seems like all his clubmates caught his disease. Your bio regulars are sneaking a few glances at the commotion. There are other customers too. You’re visibly annoyed and embarrassed— which doesn’t go over Beomgyu’s head, because he notices. And he also looked like he’s getting irritated.
“Hey, you two should just apologize and make up!”
Beomgyu gets up. You see his jaw clench. Oh no. You quickly grab his arm with a tug before he can do anything— only for Hanbin to show up with a tray, setting it down on their table in a less than gentle manner. They flinch. They shut up. Hanbin sets down a few plates with a chilling smile.
“We don’t have popcorn, but here are your fries,” he says. Wow. “Do you guys want to add anything else?”
There’s a single squeak from the group. “No, we’re good.”
Hanbin hums in acknowledgement and retrieves the tray from the table— not without sending you a thumbs up, to which you mouth a thank you in return. He smiles and nods before going back to the counter, and there you feel Beomgyu removing your hold on his arm from a while ago, and you quickly flit your attention back to him, fearing that you might’ve upset him. Again. Like last time.
“Wait—”
“Are you trying to slack off?” he jeers. You look at him, a little surprised. Beomgyu nudges his head to the counter and you see a few customers filtering in. He did remove your hand from his arm, but he’s still holding it. “I’m not upset because you didn’t tell me you started working here. Well. I was. A bit. But not anymore.”
You feel his thumb run through your knuckles, going over the bumps of each joint, followed by a gentle squeeze.
“It must’ve been heaven for you to get some peace and quiet for once. But then I had to bring these losers around,” he wrinkles his nose. You feel a load get off of your chest. Beomgyu lets go of your hand. “If you told me beforehand, I would’ve steered them away from here.”
“Well it’s fine as long as they don’t cause a scene.” You say the last part a little bit louder than conversational-volume. From the corner of your eye, you see Hyunjin cough on his fry. “Anyway, I gotta get back to work.”
“No shit. Go do what you’re paid for, slacker.”
He lands a smack on your back and you’re pushed off to do your job. Gosh. Hanbin welcomes you back to the station and the both of you are kept busy for the time being, up until late afternoon strikes, and Beomgyu says he can’t drive you home today since they’re still needed back at the faculty office.
“Your girlfriend can get home just fine! Prof Kim’s looking for us, hurry—”
And just like that, he gets lugged out of the cafe. Jeongin laments about returning to “printing hell,” whatever he means by that, and the walls of Horangnabi are once again returned to their original state— peace and quiet.
The bell jingles. You hear nothing but the metronomic melody from the speakers. “Your friends are so draining,” you tell Hanbin.
He just laughs. “They’re quite energetic.”
You should’ve appreciated the serenity and calmness of your first couple of days working here because for the next few weeks, the coding club has decided that the campus cafe is going to be their regular hangout spot from now on. Or until their summer volunteer work finally ends.
“You know, you’re so pretty.”
It’s the end of June now. You’re wiping off some spilled milk from the counter when Julie suddenly decides to dote on you. She’s on the other side of the counter, face between her palms, and your wiping stops, face flushed.
“I—I’m sorry?”
“You’re like the prettiest flower in a garden and I’d fend off all the other bees and butterflies just to have you for myself,” she doubles down. You release a laugh, mildly forced because holy shit, this is a new kind of attention. “No wonder you have all these guys buzzing around you all the time.”
Julie thumb-points at the corner the coding club guys usually occupy. You hear Hyunjin losing his shit over something—
“I think he’s the one they keep buzzing around, seonbae.”
—something Choi Beomgyu very likely said considering the grin he has on his face, and how Yeonjun is also collapsing on his shoulders. You watch as his grin disappears into a cup, taking a sip from the lime soda he ordered. Then he notices you staring. He settles down the drink and gets up.
“Oh no, he’s coming over.”
“What?” he says after reaching the counter, taking the spot next to Julie. “Are you talking shit about me again?”
“Hey, not everything is about you, insect,” answers Julie. Those two have gotten pretty close too. “I was talking about how pretty our new barista is. She’s a breath of fresh air. A rose among the truckload of weeds sullying the pretty interiors of our dear cafe.”
Beomgyu snorts at the comparison. You give him the stink eye.
“I get what she means,” Hanbin slides into conversation. He hums and passes you the milkshake Jeongin ordered. It’s still missing the whipped cream on top. You fetch a container from the fridge and walk back to your station, only to be met by a sudden debate on what kind of flower you are now.
“No, no. She’s not a rose,” you hear Yeonjun interject. “Appearance wise, she’s like a daffodil. Personality wise, she’s a venus flytrap.” A few of them chortle and laugh. You roll your eyes and start shaking the container.
“You’re wrong, she’s a hydrangea!”
“Aren’t they poisonous?”
“Exactly.”
A few more give their pitches. Honestly, you’re pretty impressed by the amount of knowledge these gamer gremlin boys have. You finish Jeongin’s milkshake and give it back to Hanbin for delivery. Beomgyu is quiet throughout the whole debacle, until Hyunjin eggs him on to give his pitch. They need to hear the expert’s verdict, he says. Beomgyu just brushes them off until he notices you looking at him expectantly. He pauses. He’s actually thinking about it. You’re pleasantly surprised at his sudden thoughtfulness— that is, of course, until he actually opens his freaking mouth.
“You’re a milkweed.”
It’s like a ball gets punted into your head. It bounces off and lands on the ground. You hear a wheeze from the boys. You give Beomgyu the middle finger.
“A weed! Not even a flower!”
“Hey, they are flowers! Go look it up!”
Beomgyu can’t redeem himself anymore. You’re already looking at him with bitter disgust and Julie proceeds to call him a piece of shit.
“It really is a flower!”
He still defends, pleading his case to you even after the topic has shifted. Julie has left to clean up some tables. Beomgyu remains in his spot on the other side of the counter until you decide to believe him and his alleged substantial botanical knowledge.
“Sure, whatever,” you deride. Beomgyu is still pouty. “Anyway, your conference thingy is this weekend, right? We’re going home right after?”
“Yeah,” he says, still sounding a little bitter and you bite down a laugh. His eyes flutter down, noticing something on your chin, and offhandedly wipes off what you assume is some stray whipped cream from earlier with his thumb. “Do you wanna leave in the morning or afternoon?”
“Oooooh.”
Lee Heeseung suddenly rears his head near the counter to return their empty plates. He’s back from vacation and now he’s here to reclaim his rightful spot as your number one annoyance. “Get a room,” he says with a shit eating grin that you want to wipe the floor with.
“Why’d you even come back early?” you leer at him. “Weren’t you supposed to be island hopping until the end of July?”
He sticks his tongue out. Beomgyu just laughs. “I can’t miss Sungchan’s party. You’re going, right?”
Right. The alleged wildest, most epic summer rager Jung Sungchan mentioned before parting ways with you and Minjeong over vacation. He texted you about it again last night. You couldn’t leave him on read because he called you immediately after.
“Unfortunately,” you lament. “Sungchan’s gonna throw a tantrum if I don’t show up.”
“You know Sungchan?” Beomgyu suddenly asks.
You give him a pointed look. “Duh, obviously. We’re in the same major.”
It’s like a lightbulb materializes on the top of his head. “Ah,” he says. “I forgot you had other friends.”
You quickly retaliate by attacking him with the nearest thing you can get your hands on: a dish towel. He lets out a very fake, very dramatic yelp of pain and tells on you to Julie noona for abusing your customers and that you should be fired.
“You’re no customer, you termite.”
“Ack! Noona! She’s hitting me again!”
“Is this how the youngins flirt nowadays?”
Both of you freeze in frame— him trying to yank your weapon from your hands and you with an arm up ready to throw a punch— and turn your heads towards Heeseung, who has a very smug smile playing on his face. You shoot Beomgyu a glare before roughly tugging the dish towel from his grasp. “Shut your mouth, Hee. How’s it going with your compsci girlie, anyway. You’ve stopped bragging since last month.”
Heeseung’s smile stiffens. He breathes out a ‘haha,’ before starting to turn away. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Serves him right. After a while you routinely bid them good riddance since they have to leave for volunteer work again. The weekend comes rolling, they finish the conference, and, with summer vacation coming to a close, you also bid your part-time job here at Horangnabi farewell as well after two-months of service.
“It’s not like she’s never coming back here,” Beomgyu huffs. You two decided to stop by before leaving off to your hometown, Monday after their conference. Julie refuses to stop squeezing you. Beomgyu tugs on your shirt sleeve, but you don’t budge. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Coming from the guy who’s spending the entire week with her,” Julie spits back. “You better bring her back here in one piece, you bug.”
Choi Beomgyu succeeds in retrieving you this time. The container carrying two cups of coffee swings in your hand as an arm hooks around your neck, tipping you back, and the top of your skull hits Beomgyu’s chin.
“Hanbin, we’re heading out.”
“Drive safe!”
You’re only spending a little over a week in Daegu. You two still need to come back to Seoul in time for Jung Sungchan’s, cough, epic summer rager. He hasn’t missed a day in reminding you about it. You’re out for a joint-family dinner with Choi Beomgyu and his family and your phone buzzes only to see Sungchan’s text saying [three days. i better see you there 🫵🫵🫵].
“Your classes don’t even start until September.”
It’s the third week of August. Your mom decides to walk you to Beomgy’s car. “I still need to enroll and register for my classes,” you tell her. “I’ll call you when I arrive.” You pause. “And if you want to know what I’m up to, just ask me directly for god’s sake. Quit asking that guy.”
That guy wrinkles his nose at you. “Auntie, don’t listen to her. She’s just being jealous.”
“Wait until I tell your mom about how you nearly set fire to your kitchen.”
“Say a single word and I’m never letting you in my car anymore.”
Jung Sungchan’s party is at their vacation home in Eunpyeong District because his parents aren’t in the country. There’s a pool (gross). He promised you and Minjeong exclusive room access to escape to in case of emergencies (nice). It’s late afternoon. Beomgyu is already there because, well, he’s Choi Beomgyu and everyone’s obsessed with him. You’re still at Minjeong’s apartment, getting ready and borrowing some of her accessories.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive you guys here?” he asks over the phone. You can barely hear him with the noise in the background. “Taxi fare’s expensive.”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” Minjeong makes a face from the foot of the bed while she irons her hair. “I’ve saved up a lot of pocket money thanks to you being my personal chauffeur anyway. And Minjeong doesn’t like you. She thinks you’re a douchebag.”
“I don’t even know her!”
“Bye.” You hang up. Minjeong still has a look on her face. “What?”
“I think he’s stringing you along,” she says bitingly.
You let out a huff. “How can he string me along when I don’t even like him?” Minjeong simply says that Choi Beomgyu gives her bad vibes, whatever the fuck she means because the only vibe Beomgyu exudes is the vibe of extreme annoyance. You hop off Minjeong’s bed and change into the outfit you brought, opting to put on this very big, droopy sunhat you once bought at a flea market as extra protection. It’s stupid hot out. You steal some of Minjeong’s sunscreen as well before finally heading out.
“Did Sungchan invite everyone at uni or something?”
A foot into his gate, it’s already so crowded. Like really fucking crowded. There’s music blasting somewhere. You can’t find Sungchan anywhere in the yard so you and Minjeong squeeze your way into the house, and there you find him with Heeseung. Minjeong yells for his attention, and he spins around with a big smile. “Hey, you made it!” Sungchan hurls himself at you with a bone crushing hug. “It feels like it’s been ten years since I last saw you.”
“Quit being so dramat— ack! Tap out, tap out! I give!”
He finally releases you, and you grunt. “Here you go.” He tosses the keys to the room he promised.
“Have fun partying.” Minjeong snatches it into her hands immediately. You scan the area for a bit. You see Hyunjin and Jeongin in the corner of the living room.
“Boo, you’re so lame,” jeers Sungchan, to which Minjeong just ignores and tugs your arm.
“How about you?” she asks.
You shift your gaze back to her. “I’ll go look for Choi Beomgyu’s round head first then hermit up there with you.” Minjeong makes a gagging noise before going off for the staircase. You’re ready to take out your phone to shoot Beomgyu a text, but you feel a sudden weight on the top of your head, so you look up, brows knitted.
“Your boyfie’s out in the back, sunshine,” Sungchan says while attempting to snatch your hat.
“Not my fucking boyfriend.” You swat his hand away and readjust the hat on your head. “But thanks. Later.”
The thing about your longtime friend is that no matter how crowded the place, no matter how flooded an area is with people and people and people— he’s generally very easy to find. Just look for a crowd, look for bodies circling around each other and whoever is at the epicenter, at the eye of the storm, is more often than not Choi Beomgyu.
Your trick is proven to be effective this time around as well. When you leave the living room through the glass doors to the backyard, you spot him instantaneously sitting on the ledge of the other side of the pool, feet dipping into the water as he laughs along with the large group surrounding him. It’s bright out— the sun’s rays bouncing off from the water’s surface to glitter the underside of his face. Even the sun has his attention. It’s so comically ridiculous that you almost roll your eyes into a scoff. That is until you see him see you, and within a moment’s notice, he’s up on his feet and is departing from the crowd to walk up to you.
“You’re here.”
The first thing he does is swipe the sunhat from your head, adding it to his obnoxiously colored outfit: a bright pink buttoned top with neon orange flowers, the color matching the necklace he’s uncharacteristically wearing. He’s also got a pair of square framed sunglasses perched on his nose. “Is this your highlighter cosplay?” you ask, snickering.
He shoots you a glare. “Fuck off. What took you so long, anyway? Thought you got lost or something.”
“I wish I did,” you grunt. There’s a holler and a splash from somewhere. You feel a few droplets hitting the skin of your feet. Beomgyu tugs you by the arm a little farther away from the pool. “This is way too noisy for my liking. And I thought I’ve been desensitized by you and your friends.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Beomgyu!”
A third voice suddenly barges in from behind you. Beomgyu’s eyes leave your face for a second when you feel someone brush past your shoulders. “Hey!” Beomgyu greets back, giving who you assume is one of his friends a high five before the guy runs off again, then his gaze flits back to you. “Anyway—”
“Hey, kid, haven’t seen you in a while!”
A more familiar face shows up and greets Beomgyu with a slap on the back, once more fishing away his attention. You’ve seen him at Horangnabi before, you think. “Hyung, I’ll get to you in a sec!” he says. When Beomgyu looks at you again, his smile quickly drops into a pursed huff. “Ugh.”
You laugh. “You were saying?”
Beomgyu smacks his tongue in distaste, tugging you even further into a corner in the backyard, right next to a bush-lined fence under the shade. “I was trying to say— it’s good to get out of your comfort zone once in a while, you know. Your mother would cry tears of joy to hear that her hermit of a daughter is at a party.”
“Why do you always bring up my mother when you want to make a point?”
“Extra leverage,” he grins. “There’s drinks in the cooler. Want me to get you one?”
“Nah,” you say. “I’m gonna hole up in Sungchan’s room in about—” you check the time on your phone. “Ten minutes. Minjeong’s already in our sanctuary.”
You receive a pinch on the nose from Beomgyu for that. You try to elbow him off, and just as he’s about to say something again, you two hear his name being yelled out from somewhere in the area. “Choi Beomgyu! Pool volleyball, stat!” Beomgyu pauses, arms dropping to his sides and his shoulders slump in defeat. A single breath of wind, he’s gonna fall over.
“God fucking damn it.”
It’s very funny seeing him like this. “Off you go,” you push his limp body out of the shade, the sun hitting you both once more. Beomgyu makes a grunt of protest. “Go, butterfly, go. Your people are waiting for you.”
Beomgyu gives you a look of awful judgment, but starts unbuttoning his shirt anyway in preparation to take a dive. “You’re not gonna swim?” he asks.
“In that water?” you grimace. “Want me to catch a disease or some shit? You’re on your own, pal.”
“Drama queen,” he huffs, fully removing his shirt now and you’re like whoa there— eyes away, eyes away. A screeching voice calls from his attention. He looks behind to yell back, “Shut the fuck up, I’ll there in a minute!”
“Hand me your phone,” you tell him, holding out your hand. Beomgyu turns around, looking at you with his atrociously bright shirt hanging on his forearm. You clear your throat. “And clothes. Ask Sungchan for directions to his room to find me later.”
“You sure?” he asks, digging into his short pockets.
“Yeah. Go have your fun, loser.”
Beomgyu hums and takes your offer, handing you his phone, tossing his shirt to your face, putting your sun hat back on top of your head and making sure to ruin your hair in the process. He’s so fucking annoying. “I’ll be back after I kick their asses.”
The shirt drops from your face and falls, only to hang on your arm. “Hey. I don’t really care,” you say. Beomgyu doesn’t find that response satisfactory. He makes a face before running off, slow at first before breaking into a sprint once he’s near enough the pool, before jumping straight into the water with a loud splash!
His head emerges from the water, largely grinning with his hair sticking to his skull. It doesn’t take long for him to be swallowed by a group of people. You take this as your cue to leave.
“I know you hate it when people assume you’re dating. But seeing all that, I really can’t blame them.”
“Holy shit— Minjeong,” you jump, meeting face-to-face with your friend the moment you spin your heels. She’s got her arms crossed, looking at you like she’s massively unimpressed. “When did you get here?”
“I thought you died or something,” she shrugs. There’s a splash from the pool, you two getting hit as collateral damages and Minjeong makes a gagging noise. “I can’t believe I left home early for this mess.”
You make a noise of agreement. It’s around four right now, the number of people isn’t getting any smaller, and the music is yet to get louder. Choi Beomgyu’s shirt and phone are still on your person. Said phone buzzing incessantly in your hold. “I’ve been out here for a good ten minutes,” you say. “I think that’s enough.”
“Good call. Let’s go upstairs.”
On the way to the room, you bump into Heeseung, who ropes you in to taking two jello shots before setting you free. You also greet a few people that you know for uni here and there, but you can barely hear them over, well, everything. It’s so chaotic, you’re beginning to wonder how the hell Jung Sungchan is going to clean up the aftermath of this. Or maybe that’s why he was so desperate to have you and Minjeong over. So that you’d help him clean up.
Minjeong seems to agree with your theory. You two key in the door to the room he gave you while cussing him out. “That bastard. Of course, he’d have ulterior motives.” The door opens. Minjeong lets herself in and immediately throws herself face-first onto the bed. “I’m gonna nap.”
“You dressed up all cutely just to sleep at a party,” you say, scanning around the room for a place to put away Beomgyu’s things.
“Hey, my ten minutes of screentime needs to be worth it,” she replies, voice muffled by the mattress. “Night, night.”
With how pretty the interiors look, you’re pretty sure this isn’t a room Sungchan frequents. A guest bed, maybe. There’s a large window on the opposite wall revealing a vivid backyard view, sheer white curtains filtering the sun. It’s very bohemian. Tasseled rugs, rattan decor hung all around. You notice the round, wicker seat next to the bed with a patterned cushion. You toss Beomgyu’s belongings there and walk up to the window.
Peeling back the curtain, you look down to see a flood of people scattered all about the yard, muffled music and noises leaking into the cracks of the room. Choi Beomgyu is still splashing around the pool. You watch as he throws a beach ball overhead, eyes following it fly across the water, until it ultimately bounces off the pool ledge and hits someone from behind. He looks pretty happy with the stunt. You let out a huff, a tug on the corners of your mouth, and let yourself sink into the soft rug in between the bed and the windowsill, laying down.
You hear Minjeong squirming from above. Damn, she’s actually sleeping. You’d get up there and join her too, but the floor is already comfortable, and you’re already yawning, so you feel yourself starting to doze off, lulled by the distant sounds of people from the outside.
When you open your eyes again, it’s orange.
You open your phone. Almost six in the evening. The sunset leaks into the room through the sheer curtain, painting shadows on the floor as you blink and regain your consciousness.
Then you hear three sharp knocks from the other side of the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Coming.” It takes a while for you to reconnect the wires in your brain. You let out a yawn as you make your groggy steps towards the door, seeing Minjeong wedged into the upper corner of the bed in a way that’s definitely going to wrinkle her outfit. There’s a few more knocks on the door. You twist the knob open and lo and behold—
It’s Choi Beomgyu.
“Oh, thank god, I found the right room this time.”
Half-clothed. With a very evident, painful red mark on his left cheekbone.
“Holy shit. What the hell happened to you?”
You’re wide awake now. Beomgyu answers with a sheepish grin. “Well. You see. A little accident occurred.”
He flinches back and looks away guiltily with tightly pressed lips the moment you nudge your face closer. It’s swollen. You take a step back with a sigh. “Explain,” you say, grabbing him into the room. You tip the door close with your foot and bring him to the foot of the bed, careful not to wake Minjeong up in the process.
“Some of the guys got a little too tipsy,” he starts as you sit him down onto the mattress. You kneel onto the bed stool, sinking into the loose blanket draped on the cushion just next to his outstretched legs while he continues yapping. “There was a surfboard involved. Don’t ask. But with alcohol-induced lack of coordination, and then there’s me who was by the pool ledge at the wrong place at the wrong time— I think you can get an idea of what happened.
He leans back, sinking his hands into the cushion. You dip forward. “That’s nothing to brag about.” Yeah, he’s gonna need some ice.
“I think I bumped my head a little too.”
You feel a breath escape. He’s smiling. How many beer cans has he downed already? “Beomgyu. Seriously. What the fuck?” His face is irritating you, so you grab it and yank it down to get a good look of his big, round head. “Where?”
“Ack! Gently! Do it gently!” he complains, and you feel his right hand coil around your left wrist. “It’s father in the back, I think—”
“Quit grabbing—”
“Ow!”
You do manage to find the bump, but you accidentally press on it a little too hard, causing Choi Beomgyu to yank your wrist in surprise, jerking you forward out of balance. Now, that’s fine and all, but at the same moment, you hear two unfamiliar voices speaking in hushes approaching the door. Your eyes widen.
“Are you sure this room is empty?”
“Yeah, it’s empty, just—”
Swing!
You try to get up. But your knees slip on the blanket on the stool and you stumble forward upon hearing the door slam open.
It’s a domino effect. Your palms are pressing against the soft mattress. Choi Beomgyu’s bruised face is looking straight at you in alarm. From underneath. You’re on top of him. On the bed. You snap your head towards the door and it’s wide, wide open with two people, half inside, and a few more heads poking in and zeroing in on you as the realization that you forgot to fucking lock it dawns upon you and soaks into your bones.
This. This isn’t a favorable position.
God damn it all.
“Sorry!”
And the door is slammed shut once more. That doesn’t matter. The damage has been done. You feel your face starting to burn and your strength attempting to escape from your body.
“Uh.”
The voice from below you reels your attention back in. You blink. Shit. You’re practically pinning Choi Beomgyu against the bed right now and his face is just a few inches away from yours. The heat is rising to your head. You want to move, but your arms won’t budge— seemingly temporarily locked into place by the shock of the sight underneath you.
His eyes are wide open, reflecting the orange tinted light from the ceiling, flushing his skin with a light shade of auburn, the tint deeper on his cheeks and nose. You see his throat bob, muscles contracting.
The thing is, you’ve known him for a good twenty years or so, give or take. But you’ve never seen his face this close before, and you have to admit—
“C—can you move?”
Choi Beomgyu is kind of pretty.
Even with an ugly bruise forming underneath his eye.
“Hey. I don’t think this is gonna help kill any of the rumors.”
You look up to see Minjeong further up on the bed, very, very awake. You forgot she’s here. You toss yourself to the side with a squeak, practically hurling yourself off from the bed. “It—it was an accident!” you start. Minjeong simply shakes her head with sigh.
“I know. I saw everything. I was already awake the moment you sat this fucker’s ass on the bed.”
Hot. Your face is very hot. But Minjeong is also very right because god— you’re not sure how far things are gonna escalate. How many people saw that? Five? Maybe Six? Gosh, you don’t fucking know. The only thing you’re sure about is the fact that Lee Heeseung is gonna have a field day once he hears about this. You are royally screwed.
나비 / NABI. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.
