Chapter Text
Despite the chill in the air, spring having not yet fully shaken off winter, Paris was as beautiful as always, as lovely and enigmatic as Hyunjin always remembered it to be, the city creaking to life more slowly than her American younger sisters, cafes and bakeries only opening for business as the sun was fully up and the clock had chimed at least seven times. Changbin had been content to let him set their pace, letting Hyunjin wind them through his favorite streets of his favorite arrondissement, even though Hyunjin suspected that Changbin knew the city almost as well, his expression as he took in the sights one of fondness rather than the excitement that had flooded Hyunjin from head to toe the first time he saw rainbow colored sunlight in the nave at Notre Dame. Changbin hadn’t asked him where they were going, had simply swept his arm out and said, “lead the way,” when Hyunjin said “follow me,” leaving Changbin laughing to himself as he trailed behind, murmuring something about enjoying the view.
He was exhausted, jet lagged and still wearing last night’s clothes, but he felt more alive than he had in months in this city he adored with this man he barely knew, whose hand had been warm in his as the plane landed. He kept his sunglasses on because his eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep, but he knew that later, if given the chance, he would look at Paris unfiltered and raw, sit down in some corner of the city where no one would recognize him and paint until his fingertips ached from holding the brush. He wondered if Changbin would follow him there, too, if he would sit still and watch, if he would make good on all the pretty words about wanting to know Hyunjin as more than just a pretty face.
Hyunjin turned the corner into the small plaza he had somehow remembered from the last time he had managed to come to Paris, alone, without a manager, without a purpose other than being. To his relief, the cafe was still there, two years and Hyunjin’s one million instagram followers later, as plain and unassuming as it had been once upon a time, waiting for him with its black awning rolled out over little round tables and old iron chairs that weren’t very comfortable. His ass had ached when he had come here before, sore after spending hours sitting on a cushion that had lost all of its stuffing sometime in 1970, drinking coffee after coffee, painting the way the morning light played on the buildings across the way. It had been one of the last moments of real peace he could remember, a deep breath before his face went viral and he was the infamous kind of famous.
“Here we are.” Hyunjin tugged Changbin to stand next to him, watching his reaction out of the corner of his eye, wondering why he cared what Changbin thought about his choices.
“You wanna go over there?” Changbin pointed at the cafe with the hand that wasn’t still trapped in Hyunjin’s grip.
“Why not?” Hyunjin smiled as he thought about croissants and cafe au lait. “Did you assume I would want something fancier? Something more fashionable than this?”
“I don’t assume anything about you,” Changbin said, his gaze as soft as the cafe chairs were hard, making Hyunjin blush for the twentieth time since they had met. “I’m trusting you to tell me who you are, what you want me to know.”
Hyunjin cleared his throat. “What I want you to know right now is that I’m hungry and desperate for coffee.” He pulled Changbin along, proud of his feet for not tripping over themselves when Changbin sighed and called after him:
“I wish you were desperate for me.”
“Coffee first, men second.” Hyunjin pulled out a chair before Changbin could do it for him, nearly crushing Changbin’s fingers against the wrought iron with his back. “Sorry, sorry,” Hyunjin’s apology broke around a wide, probably ugly yawn that he had been trained to hide behind his palm. “Sit, please.”
Changbin tugged his chair in close, almost as close as they had been on the airplane, side by side instead of directly across. Hyunjin could see the circles beneath his eyes, could see the top of his phone number on the thigh that was nearly pressed against his. It was almost enough to make his already bad French even worse when the server wandered over a moment later, indulging Hyunjin’s fumbling attempts to order with a weary smile that Hyunjin sometimes recognized on his own face after hours and hours of photoshoots or engaging with eager fans.
“Why here?” Changbin asked, taking Hyunjin’s paper napkin and spreading it on his lap. “Best kept secret in Paris or something?”
Hyunjin stared at the napkin and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just a place that reminds me of the person I used to be, I guess.”
“And who did you used to be?”
Hyunjin looked up, falling into the trap of Changbin’s openly curious eyes once again. “Someone who could sit in a cafe for hours and not be recognized.” Hyunjin smiled as coffee and croissants appeared in front of them, his fingers already curling around a porcelain white cup. “Someone who didn’t always suspect people who talked to him of having an ulterior motive. Thinking that there was always something they wanted that wasn’t just…me.” He took a sip, the coffee dark and bitter, hot and delicious. He caught a drop on the corner of his lips, laughing as Changbin’s gaze dropped. “Isn’t that what you want? Just me?”
“Just you is more than enough, believe me.” Changbin put his arm around the back of Hyunjin’s chair, ignoring both coffee and food in favor of continuing to stare at Hyunjin like he was breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Hyunjin smiled over the rim of his cup, warmed by the coffee, by Changbin’s shameless admiration and the press of leg and the drape of an arm. “Well, then, maybe I wanted to be with someone who wants just me in the last place I think was really…me.”
“You’re still you,” Changbin said, using the hand not caressing Hyunjin’s shoulder to tear off a bite of croissant. “I don’t think you would have jumped on a plane or come to this cafe if you weren’t still you.” Hyunjin resisted the urge to pick a fleck of croissant from Changbin’s chin, biting back laughter as he talked with his mouth still half-full. “You’ve got a romantic heart, I think, Hwang Hyunjin. That’s not something that can be easily changed.”
“Maybe you’re right. Hyunjin let his fingers escape from their coffee cup prison and float to Changbin’s face, catching the crumb with his thumb. “But it can be easily broken.”
Changbin caught Hyunjin’s thumb and brought it to his lips, kissing it once. “When I’m with someone, my devotion is as permanent as the ink on these jeans.”
“So, it bleeds out after a few good wash cycles?” Hyunjin teased, waving a hand in front of his face to cool cheeks that had no business being as red as they were on a cool early spring morning.
Changbin snorted and took a swig of his coffee, wincing as it went down. “You’re insane if you think I’m ever washing these. In fact, I may never take them off again.” Hyunjin dropped a sugar cube in his cup, rolling his eyes when Changbin winked at him. “Unless you want me to, of course.”
“Are you romancing me or seducing me?” Hyunjin kicked Changbin beneath the table, before nibbling on his croissant and wishing he didn’t look quite so sad every time he tried to eat bread.
“Don’t the two kinda go together?” Changbin shrugged, unrepentant, happy as he polished off his breakfast and stretched his arms over his head. “I’m romancing you in the hopes of one day having the privilege of seducing you.”
“You’re too much.”
“I think I’m just enough. Just what you need.”
Hyunjin shook his head and bit down on his smile, grateful that no one but him could hear the fluttering of a heart that was tentatively returning to life, racing from more than just caffeine and exhaustion. Fourteen hours ago, he had been alone in a club, watched by everyone and seen by no one, and now he was, here, in Paris, on an insane, wild whim and feeling more like himself than he had in years. He let himself sink into the moment, not knowing what could come next, not after having lifted the velvet rope on his closed off little life and letting chaos and opportunity in. Hyunjin turned his attention to his coffee, to the butter taste on his tongue and the few people who had started milling about the plaza, ready to start their day before Hyunjin had ended his. He wondered where they were going, how they had slept, if they were tired or hungry, if someone was leaving their lover’s bed for the first time, if anyone else was on the verge of falling in love.
Before long, the plaza was alive with energy, the cafe half-full, the coffee gone and the croissant turned to a faint scattering of flaky dust on his plate. There was nothing left to do but pay the bill. Changbin asked him if he wanted another cup, another pastry, another anything at all, clearly stalling for time in a way that made Hyunjin want to kiss the worry off of a face that wasn’t built for doubt.
“Let me.” Hyunjin said, putting a hand on Changbin’s wrist when the bill came, breakfast in Paris coming to an end. Changbin’s worry turned almost to devastation as Hyunjin dropped his credit card on the little silver tray. Hyunjin smiled, warm and soft, the kind of smile he never showed to the camera, the one he kept for himself. “You brought me here, brought me back to a part of myself that I had thought I had lost forever. Buying two cups of coffee is the least I could do.”
“But I want to do everything for you.”
“You’ve got time.” Hyunjin put his hand on Changbin’s face, feeling the prickle of yet to be shaved skin against his palm and he brought him in close enough to taste the coffee on his breath. “After all, this is only our first date.”
“Let’s get married,” Changbin murmured, eyes closing and lips curving into a grin.
Hyunjin kissed him, falling into the waiting curl of Changbin’s arm around his shoulder as he tipped his face up to be kissed more deeply, to let Changbin laugh into his mouth with the kind of unvarnished pleasure and delight that made him feel more beautiful than any cover shoot ever could.
“Let’s go out again,” Hyunjin said, heart beating hard, his face flush with wanting, embarrassment and hope for the future.
“Anytime, baby,” Changbin said, pulling him back in for another kiss and then another. “After all, you’ve got my number.”