𝕓𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕠𝕪.

{justin h. min, twenty-seven, cis man, he/him} || cyrus yun is a mutant with the ability of telekinetic weaponry. they’ve been in new york for two years where they spend most of their time as a baker at fluffy’s bakery. when i think of them, i think of the scent of freshly baked bread, wearing sunglasses to hide a hangover, combat boots and leather jackets. they are affiliated with no one. 

ARC ONE FINALE RECAP!

As he reaches for his pack of cigarettes, he thinks about how reassuring it is to hear from Cyrus that he is his idiot, that Jaewon has somebody. The past month was just him trying not to get drowned in sadness and isolation, but the loneliness has been lingering. “You’re so dramatic,” He hands the pack to Cyrus. “How am I going to light a cigarette for you when you’re not here yet?” 

He doesn’t know about that? Okay, definitely kinky. Ren feels one corner of her mouth tilt up in a cheeky smirk, but she doesn’t push further because there’s a certain vulnerability in the way he says it that suggests something of the self-flagellating in this man. Yaren’s not really interested in easy targets or low hanging fruit but she is desperately nosy. Never could resist trying to sniff out secrets; probably comes with the more or less born-and-bred government agent shtick.

Watching carefully for his reaction, Yaren is delighted to see he seems sort of bashful about her question.  Like he’s worried she might say no? That’s never really happened for her before: she’s been told she gives off unapproachable vibes, and if not then the sort of people that approach her tend to not really care one way or the other, they’re just looking for a hook up. Opting not to keep him on tenterhooks, Yaren says: “I like drive in movies. And you need to bring a lot of snacks because I have a lot of strength to keep up.” She flexes her arm, the slender lines of which don’t remotely suggest her strength. Wandering closer to the counter between them and leaning on it, palms flat against the surface, she studies Cyrus’ face without shyness or shame. “Do you bake a lot of the stuff here yourself? Or is it mostly bought in?” The answer, it would appear, is very important to Ren, more important than asking his name (which she’s still not got).

his response causes river to let out a soft chuckle, and he nods. “yeah, sure, why not? i deserve a win today.” whether or not that’s true, he certainly doesn’t pass up the chance to get free food. river grins as he takes his trophy pastry, “you know… i’m actually not even vegan. i was hoping you guys would have, like, corndogs here or something.”

Nothing got in Mari’s way. Absolutely nothing… except heights. She was small but mighty, sure, but some good that did her when some asshole put the can she was reaching for so far back on the shelf, she couldn’t get her fingers around it. She glances down the aisle, spotting some guy walking by. Just as true with most everyone, he was taller than her. “Hey, you. Grab that can for me will you?”

A gorgeous woman! Blah, blah, he’s laying it on very thick. Yaren rolls her eyes, but she finds that she really doesn’t mind. People don’t usually talk to her like that. “Kinky. But trust me, you would not like getting beaten up by me.”

She watches him curiously as he plates up the pretzel, nodding as he asks if she wants it heated up. Like, duh, is there anything sadder than cold mozzarella? It’s gotta be warm and melty. “Are you asking me on a date? You don’t even know me. I could be a serial killer.” Ren should probably be against the idea of a date, because she doesn’t need any distractions. But she’s arrogant enough to think she can allow things to progress only as far as she intends; and, alright, there’s not many people that have approached her with the casual, confident yet dorky charm that Cyrus has. Ren is wary, but she’s… interested.

“I dunno about that,” Cyrus laughs. He’s had survivor’s guilt ever since the attacks in June. Part of him feels like he deserves to be beaten to a pulp by this stranger. Maybe it’d give him some kind of comfort or allow him to forgive himself. He smiles at her, friendly and bright. It’s easy to hide how you feel if you plaster on a smile. 

Her question takes him by surprise, and he pauses. Was he asking her on a date? “I don’t think you’re a serial killer.” Turning his back to her, Cyrus puts her pretzel in the toaster oven. “That’s what dates are for — getting to know people. If you butcher me, then that’s just bad judgement on my part.” He faces her again, prepared for rejection. “I think you’re cute, so yeah... I am asking you on a date.”

“You’re such an idiot,” He chuckles and waves Cyrus off. “I’ll go wait outside,” He says as he reaches for his pack from his coat as he exits Fluffy’s Bakery. He lights a cigarette and thinks how he would not mind dating Cyrus, but he already fucked up a relationship by fucking his friend, he didn’t want that with him and Cyrus.

His confidence and bravado don’t go unappreciated or unrewarded by Stevie, who gives him another, clearly charmed, laugh. “He juggles, too? Well now that’s two things I have to see.” She lifts the little cherry garnish from her glass up by the stem, “Well, Cy,” She puts emphasis on his ‘friends only’ nickname, her playful smile forcing a matching lilt onto the end of the sound. “What do you say? Will you show me what I assume has to be an award winning pout? Please?” The dangling cherry finds its way to her mouth, where she plucks the fruit off of its stem with her teeth.

Cyrus is forward. Extremely forward, almost like a train barreling along the path, and he feels just a little taken aback from all of it—he’s always made the first move. Mostly made it and now, he has a pen to his skin and a handsome man’s phone number on the back of his hand, even as he looks disgustingly sweaty. Luck, perhaps, is on his side. The dumbest thereof.

“I—uh, you were hoping I was gonna say that? Really? I guess this means that I’ll be calling you, huh?” Ears tipped pink, he can’t stop himself from the smile that’s on his face and the embarrassing little flutter he gets in his chest.  He bashfully looks at the scribbled out phone number on his hand and makes a mental note to just get some paper so he can actually not remember this. “So, what time does your shift… end?” He’s a little out of it, but at least he has the capacity to ask it. “Just for my… personal, you know. Stuff.”

“Only if you want to, of course.” He thinks Will is hot, and he’d love to go on a date with him, but he doesn’t want him to feel pressured. Since his girlfriend passed away, Cyrus has been doing everything he can to keep her out of his thoughts. He doesn’t want to think about her — thinking means grieving, which is something he’s not ready for. He’d rather pretend everything is fine and move on with his life.

“Hm… I’d probably deserve it, to be fair.” she shrugs. There’s maybe a little shine of warmth in her eyes at this guy’s total unhesitating willingness to roast her. Yaren quite likes getting teased, more than she’d ever let on – it’s a little sister thing. And there’s worse things than being teased by cute baker boys. Maybe it’s just the fact that he works in a bakery but he seems… straightforward in a way she appreciates. Yaren gets a bit tired of all the subterfuge and intrigue of her life, sometimes.

She holds a straight face at his ‘sweet as cherry pie’ comment, even as he bursts into boyish laughter. “I’m a forgiving person so I’m going to choose not to enact any violence upon you for that comment. And I’ll even buy a salty, mozzarella stuffed pretzel, but only because I’m starving. Get good tips out of your jokes, do you?” It’s a scathing comment, but it wouldn’t surprise her if he did.

“I mean, feel free to beat me up a little. Getting punched by a gorgeous woman would probably be the highlight of my day.” Things are slow at the bakery sometimes, and there’s not much he can do to entertain himself, other than play his Gameboy or hope Jaewon pops by. “I don’t exactly see a lot of excitement working here,” he chuckles, moving towards the display case with the mozzarella pretzels.