Chapter Text
It was a bare winter day in the middle of what had been a vibrant red and yellow autumn, now all naked branches and frost creeping up glass. The sudden cold snap had the coffee shop even busier than ever, and soon Doyoung relented and started joining Taeyong's corner table regularly.
Taeyong was beautiful company, inside and out, his words lighting up a room as easily as his soft smile did in waves of warmth. All Doyoung ever wanted when he was with Taeyong was to make him smile, and all Doyoung ever wanted when he was without Taeyong was to see hear that shy laugh again, singing like a thousand silver bells ringing for Christmas Day.
Their conversations were a little talking, a lot of flirting. It seemed everything Taeyong said was fascinating, something to be quoted, framed in gold, hung up in the Louvre where a da Vinci had stood, though written word could never even begin to hope to convey Taeyong's marvels. How could mere ink and paper ever aspire to the magical light that caught in his eyes as he leaned forward in his chair, giggling at his own joke, or the nuances of his grin, each tiny curve and swoop, when it was so dazzling in person that Doyoung thought he would go blind?
Maybe he should start bringing sunglasses to the coffee shop.
Doyoung drummed his fingers on the deep wood grain and screwed up some guts. "Taeyong?" He looked up at the man, puppy eyes screwed tight in concentration, presumably trying to find some word or other in his draft, the one Taeyong still wouldn't let him see. "Let's go."
"Huh? Where?" Taeyong murmured, tapping away at his computer keys, each click they made a heartbeat.
"Anywhere," he ran a hand through his hair. "Let's finally have our date."
Taeyong stopped typing. "Now?"
Doyoung nodded.
"There's no saying no to that." Taeyong grinned and snapped down the laptop's slim screen. "Where to?"
"No clue. We'll find something." Doyoung dropped a dollar on the table and automatically reached out for Taeyong's slender wrist, dropping his hand the moment he felt it move and stepped back, shoving his hand to his side.
Taeyong followed Doyoung out the door. It suddenly occurred to him that he'd never really seen Taeyong walk, at most only move a few feet from table to coffee counter.
His stride, like every other bit of him, was perfect, long and elegant as a trained dancer's would be. His heart fluttered, just a pinch.
They ended up curled up together, side by side, in a booth of a hip ice cream parlor, all red leather seats and candy colored pastel barstools. The tables lacked customers, but that was a given. Who would be eating ice cream at nine in the morning? So right now, it was terribly, beautifully, silent, all the better to hear Taeyong's words.
Or make a fucking awkward date.
Doyoung's heart and hands wouldn't stop trembling. The first was hidden from view, the latter he had shoved under the table. His spine was so straighter than if he had just been lectured on good posture by his mother before relatives were to visit.
Doyoung skimmed over the menu, eyes pausing at the milkshake, with the option for two straws.
"You wanna share a milkshake?" Taeyong giggled as Doyoung's cheeks flushed redder than ever. "You like chocolate ones?"
"Yes!" Doyoung said quickly. He was not passing this opportunity up. "I love chocolate."
Taeyong's eyes lit up. "Cavity buddies!"
Actually, Doyoung didn't like chocolate at all. It was too sweet with a texture much like to chalk and made a mess when being eaten, but Taeyong ate a chocolate chip cookie every morning without fail. He couldn't just say no.
Taeyong signaled to a waiter. "Large chocolate milkshake, please."
They made some small talk as they waited. Taeyong was born in Seoul, he'd been scouted by SM once but turned it down, and was in the middle of a novel.
The waiter came back just when Doyoung was about to ask what books he'd written, setting down an enormous glass of chocolate milkshake, a light creamy brown topped by at least two inches of foam, and even more chocolate in the form of syrup, sprinkles, and pepero.
The important part, though, was the two bright red and white striped paper straws like a 1950’s daydream sticking out of the brown froth.
Taeyong scooted closer. At least this beautiful little demon had the decency to blush.