speedometer ☆ l.yy | ✔

02

You were popping into Yuta's shop a few days later, the paper bag in your hand practically soaked through with grease as you peered around for a specific person. Spotting Jisung working on an engine in the corner, you gave him a cheerful greeting, "Lunch break?"

He looked up from the engine with a smile that was magnified tenfold when he saw what was in your hand, "Is that—"

"Your favorite? Yep."

He met you on the bench that was usually reserved for customers to wait on if needed, facing you as you laid out the bounty between the two of you. It had become ritual for you to visit Jisung at the shop for a lunch break at least once a week, either bringing lunch with you, or taking him out. Today you'd stopped by the McDonald's down the street from your apartment and got his favorite: Double Quarter Pounder with cheese and a medium fry. You hadn't gotten any food for yourself, content with stealing the occasional fry from him as you two chatted about this and that.

"Oh, hey Y/N," Hendery walked out of the office in clean clothes, and you figured he had just finished his shift for the day.

"Hey, Hendery—"

There was suddenly a body that you hadn't seen before rolling out from under the car right beside you, nearly giving you a heart attack. Mark sat up on his dolly, taking an earbud out to turn around and face you, "I smelled food."

"Mine!" Jisung practically hissed, defensively closing the bag shut and stuffing nearly half the burger in his mouth.

"You're going to choke like that, Jisungie," you informed him before addressing the other guys again. "Hey, Hendery. And sorry, Mark, I didn't plan on feeding anyone else."

As Hendery started saying something, your phone buzzed, and you took it out of your pocket to glance at the notification. The name and the text that accompanied the name piqued your interest.

[yangyang: are you busy later?]

You'd been texting Yangyang on and off for the few days that you've had each other's numbers, but neither of you had made any move to make real concrete plans to meet up. Until now.

[you: depends]

[yangyang: on what?]

You typed out your next message, mentally debating with yourself about the forwardness of it. After several moments of internal conflict, you hit send and immediately turned your phone back off.

"You good, Y/N?" Hendery had apparently noticed your lack of attention to his story that you were pretty sure was about Yuta and a stuck-up customer from earlier, but then again, you weren't really listening.

"Yeah, yeah," you shook your head as you tried to reassure him, hands hyperaware and ears straining to listen for the next buzz of your phone.

"Who are you texting?" Jisung questioned, his words barely intelligible through the mouthful of hamburger he had.

"Oh, nobody."

"Is it Y—?" Hendery's question was cut off by a yelp from you.

With the hand that wasn't holding the burger—but was equally as greasy—Jisung had lunged forward to grab your phone. You recoiled away, holding it back from him desperately, "Get back, you brat!"

"Why won't you tell me who it is?" He was still struggling to get it from you.

Resorting to using your feet to push back on him, you ignored Hendery's delighted giggles at the spectacle unfolding before him, instead cursing out the younger boy, "Because it's none of your fucking business, brat!"