#p;unexpected

@jihoonrk:

Jihoon was very aware, that his closest friend would not be expecting him to come through the front door of the shop he worked in. Then again, what thing Jihoon did made sense lately?

So, with a carton cup of coffee in his hand and mask covering his face, he pushed the door open. It was still early, and pretty empty, yet he was in serious need of some new guitar string since the his dad had kindly teared a few apart. It wasn’t the best thing to happen during the weekend, and he couldn’t find enough time to drag his sorry ass to where Seungcheol worked, but hey, he was here now wasn’t he?

Leaning over the counter, he tapped on the material with the cup, catching the older male’s attention instantly a smile spreading across his features at the cute reaction, yet only his eyes could be seen. The bright white blonde hair giving away quickly who he was.

“Sup?” Jihoon asked, reaching to pull the mask down to reveal his face.

Had Seungcheol expected to have a blossoming bruise on his wrist by the end of the day? No. Did he after hearing that familiar, smooth voice from the other side of the service counter? Yes. (Had he been glad he didn’t have his head tucked under the wood? Incredibly so.) The bang his wrist makes as it makes impact is almost as loud as the hiss that follows, but Seungcheol can’t really bring himself to care for the ache when his eyes are widening as they meet that Cheshire smile. 

“Jihoon? I— What are you doing here?” Not really the way he should’ve welcomed the younger back to South Korea, but Seungcheol’s always been impulsive when it came to his friends. “I— I mean— When did you get back? Did you keep it a secret to surprise me? Well, I’m definitely surprised—” and rambling, he realises, cutting himself off. He firmly closes his lips, but the smile is hard to resist, tugging at his cheeks. 

The stress of the day, induced by an overdose of ungrateful patients and easily irritable coworkers, melted into the blacktop of the open road. Kristopher liked it best behind the steering wheel, well worn and cracked but he could never find it in himself to replace old objects of affection that had attained sentimental value over time. The chaos of his job as a Pediatrician seemed insignificant, lost in the miles behind the wheel as the landscape sped by, a reckless blur as he traversed the island of Jeju, a landscape all too familiar to him but it was easier to find comfort in a land the sole of his shoes had treaded time and time again. 

He could ask for nothing more than the uninterrupted peace of the radio humming a soft song, his deep voice following the melody. It's all too easy, the way a habit morphed into a daily ritual and sunk into his bones, the land of sometimes turmoil and sometimes peace lulling him into complacency. A mistake.