@obsxsangmin

Sleep isn’t coming easy for Takuya today. Not that he really needs the sleep in the first place, but he usually enjoys it in the absence of anything else to do during the days. However, today he’s too agitated to rest peacefully. The recent and sudden spike in violence toward supernaturals doesn’t scare him, and it doesn’t make him particularly sad, either. He doesn’t much care one way or another if a few supernatural beings die. It happens all the time. But he doesn’t like the thought of his parents (or himself for that matter) being put in any unnecessary danger. It seems senseless to him, that this “Chaos Controller” feels the need to make such a show out of it. And the way the victims are being displayed, hung like they’re puppets…it’s just…tacky. Classless, really. Takuya should really give them some style pointers.

Sangmin isn’t in their apartment today. He’s probably out on a hunt again. Takuya wishes that were the case less often than it is. Even more than his concern for his parents, Takuya hated that he knew Sangmin was going to get wrapped up in this whole situation. His parents could protect themselves, had been avoiding people like this and worse for years. Sangmin wasn’t a supernatural, though. Sure, his best friend was strong. Stupidly strong, actually. But Takuya was always worried that Sangmin was going to overlook something, a critical fact, and it was going to get him hurt. Takuya hated that he couldn’t be with him now. They were a team, but he was stuck in this stupid apartment while his best friend wandered around god-knows-where without Takuya by his side.

So, needless to say, he’s a little pissed off about the whole situation in general, and he’s feeling antsy, like he needs to find a way to shake off this gross feeling that seems to be crawling across his skin.

To release some of his extra energy, he decides to practice the dance he’s been working on in jazz class. He begins a few times, speakers blaring jazzy music without concern for the neighbors (hey, at least he’s not doing it at night), but he keeps messing up and having to start over. He feels claustrophobic today. Everything is too close, the apartment too small to contain all the nervous energy inside.

Suddenly, he knows what he needs to do.

He needs to move some furniture.

He starts pushing items, one hand on the couch, the other on the dining room table, shoving them simultaneously toward the wall. A benefit of supernatural strength is that spring cleaning becomes much more efficient than it was when he was a kid.

He tries the dance again. Still not enough space. He’s practiced in here before, knows he’s made it work with less effort than this. Why isn’t it working today?

Frustrated, he begins picking up pieces of furniture and stacking them on top of each other. He makes sure to treat them gently, considering Sangmin made most of the furniture they own. He lifts two chairs that Sangmin made in shop in high school, placing them on top of the dining room table that Sangmin made two years ago. The couch leans vertically against the wall, teetering at what is probably a dangerous angle, but takes up the least amount of space in the apartment.

Finally, with the carpet rolled up and stuck on top of the ottoman (which is on top of the tv stand, which is on top of the coffee table), Takuya feels like he has the room to move freely. He plugs his phone back into the speaker system (now in the opposite corner of the room, a mass of throw pillows balanced precariously on top of it), and begins the track once more.

That’s better.

Once he has his focus back on track, he keeps dancing, starting the song over countless times. Step, step, kick, and 4, step ball-change, and 7 and 8, pirouette, 3, land, pivot and 5, turn and 6, plié and 8. The moves all blur together as he does them again, again, again. Time passes, he’s sure, but he has no awareness of how much or little it may be.

He pauses, mid-plié, sweat making his bangs stick together in little triangles on his forehead, when he hears a familiar voice cut through the song.

“Oh, hey Minnie.”

He straightens up from his position, running his hand through his hair to wipe some of the sweat off his head.

@obsxsangmin

How the two of them met is really an oddity. It’s not that Minsong doesn’t have regulars. People frequently come to his little cafe, find themselves, hooked, and then return over and over again. This man is just another of those types- the ones who love the dogs or the baked goods or... Something. Minsong is always friendly with the regulars- makes sure to offer them the occasional free treat to keep them hooked. It’s a part of his controlling nature to want people to think of him as the best- the greatest. It’s just natural for him to want people to get hooked enough on his kind behavior to return. His regulars, in that way, are... more lucky than some of the other people he’s met.

But this one is different. Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s a hunter that originally caught Minsong’s attention, but it was the fact that he was such a dense hunter that kept it. Usually hunters have ways of starting to suspect Minsong- of worrying over his possible fae aura, but this one is... Pretty simple. He likes the dogs and he likes Minsong’s baked goods. He can get sort of chatty sometimes. He’s a bit brash and frequently Minsong finds himself concerned that the semi-loud hunter will smash his head through a table one of these days... But he’s amusing, and because of that, Minsong enjoys his presence to some extent.

He’s also useful, which Minsong certainly can’t deny liking. Sangmin, as Minsong likes to call it, is rather gullible and awfully good hearted. So when Minsong started asking if Sangmin would be willing to try his new recipes a few weeks ago, Minsong was delighted to hear an almost excited reply. Since then the hunter has been coming in on occasion and Minsong has found himself trying his hardest to bake new things to add to the cafe’s menu.

The issue is, a blind man cannot measure ingredients, nor can he read to figure out how much should go in. Everything Minsong does is based on smell and touch and just because something smells nice doesn’t necessarily mean that it tastes just as good. For example, vanilla extract smells lovely (though perhaps less so up close) but pouring a whole bottle into his baked good has proved... disasterous.

So he wonders partially why Sangmin continues to return... It’s not that he’s so foolish as to add ridiculous quantities of ingredients to his baking these days, it’s just that... He’s pretty sure a lot of it is still pretty bad. Sangmin is honest about it too.

Likely, he’s just far too good hearted...

So Minsong walks over calmly- chain earring clinking softly as he approaches. He sets the plate of muffins directly in front of Sangmin and gives a pleasant smile. Sometimes, he genuinely wonders what he looks like.

Hoseok glanced at himself in the mirror that currently laid against the wall in what you’d call a living room. His tiny two room apartment not only featured two full sized room which were more closet sized than anything, and a combined kitchen + living room. Various articles of clothing littered the floor, although it didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest as he rarely had guests. 

-- ah, so handsome!

He flashes himself a quick grin before heading out, the male having to stop himself from getting too excited. It had been some time since he had heard from Sangmin, so the moment he announced his availability Hoseok pounced on it. Checking his pockets for his wallet and keys before locking the door, a small grin still remained on his face as he headed to the restaurant he asked Sangmin to meet him at.

-- henhouse.

It was a new restaurant that had just popped up near his old university. He had overheard a some guests talk about it at the cafe`. It automatically piked his interest, with Sangmin being the first person he could think of who would want to go with him. Getting excited like before, Hoseok hurried to their meet up location, only to notice that he was first to arrive.