the soft hum of coffee machine filled the early morning air, warm and thick with the smell of caffeine and steamed milk. the front windows of the bakery were fogged slightly from the heat, and flour dust floated lazily through golden shafts of sunlight. it was quiet, except for the occasional clang of metal trays and laughter from customers.

hongjoong stood behind the counter, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he made a matcha latte. his hands moved automatically, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

"joong," wooyoung said, appearing at his side like a whirlwind in a black apron. "i need to ask you something, and i want you to answer honestly."

hongjoong raised an eyebrow as he poured milk into the matcha. "okay..."

"did you or did you not hook up with seonghwa and then immediately tell him to leave?" wooyoung said with a curious look on his face.

from the register, yeosang looked up quickly with wide eyes. "wait. what?"

hongjoong closed his eyes briefly, his jaw tightening. "can we not do this now? i told you we can talk about it tonight."

"girl, you know i can't wait. we're absolutely doing this now," wooyoung said, sliding onto the prep table beside him like he belonged there. "you've been weird all morning. you burned a batch of coffee, you forgot to add cinnamon to a cinnamon latte, and you've been making that matcha for like, ten minutes."

hongjoong sighed, placing the customer's latte on the pickup counter. "i didn't plan for it to happen like that."

"so it did happen like that," yeosang said softly, now walking away from his register and towards hongjoong's station. he leaned against the counter, frowning. "you really told him to go? after?"

"he deserved more than that," hongjoong muttered, eyes fixed on the floor, fingers twitching. "i know."

there was a moment of silence. then wooyoung asked, "so... why'd you do it?"

hongjoong looked up finally, eyes tired and dark under the warm kitchen lights. he let out a breath, slow and heavy, before answering.

"because it was too much," he said. "because it felt real. because for one second, i let myself believe i could have it. you know, have him. the way he touched me, the way he looked at me like i was someone worth holding onto—"

he cut himself off, running a hand through his hair.

"i panicked," he admitted. "everything in me wanted to stay in it, to just let it be what it was. but the second it was over, i felt like i'd ripped off all my armor. like i was standing there with every raw part of me showing and he saw it. and i couldn't—i just... needed to get the hell out of my own skin."

yeosang was quiet, but his gaze was kind. "and you thought pushing him away would fix that?"

"no," hongjoong said. "i didn't think it would fix anything. i just... needed the noise in my head to stop. and the only way i knew how to do that was to make him leave."

wooyoung leaned forward, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "do you regret it?"

"every second since the door closed," hongjoong said, his voice cracking just slightly. "but also... i needed it. i needed to be alone. not because he did anything wrong, but because i would've hurt him more if i stayed."

"you're still hurting him," yeosang said, kindly. "but i get it. you weren't ready."

hongjoong nodded slowly. "i wasn't. i mean i was physically, and even mentally, but maybe not emotionally."

"so now what?" wooyoung asked, jumping back down from the counter. "you just brood in silence and make sad little lattes for the rest of your life?"

"well," hongjoong said, dusting off his hands, "actually, i was thinking... we could go out saturday night?"

both wooyoung and yeosang froze.

"go out...?" wooyoung repeated slowly, like he was trying to process a foreign language. "you? hongjoong? voluntarily?"

"you hate going out," yeosang added, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "are you possessed?"

"no," hongjoong said with a small smile. "i just... don't want to sit in my apartment this weekend thinking about everything i messed up."

"okay, but like," wooyoung said, tossing his arms up dramatically, "this is monumental. like, holy fuck is it monumental. it won't be too loud this time? you always complain it's too loud."

"it always is too loud," hongjoong said, crossing his arms. "i don't like to not hear myself think."

"that's the point of going out," wooyoung countered. "and if anything, you probably shouldn't listen to yourself right now. you're unreliable."

"he's right," yeosang said. "but still. if you're serious about this, then yes. obviously yes. we're going. we're going hard."

wooyoung grinned wide, already pulling out his phone. "oh, i'm planning outfits. i'm making a playlist. we're turning this into a full-blown resurrection."

"wooyoung—" hongjoong started, but the younger boy was already halfway across the kitchen, texting and humming like his life had just gained new purpose.

yeosang just looked at hongjoong and gave a small, knowing smile. "we'll have your back. whatever this weekend is, even if it's just dancing out the ache."

hongjoong nodded, his throat tightening a little. "thanks."

yeosang glanced back at the coffee's behind them. "you ready to finish those orders?"

hongjoong took a breath. "yeah. let's do it."

for the first time in days, the kitchen felt just a little bit lighter.

vacation is lowkey more tiring than work.

-vic