Work Text:
Minho wondered if it was possible to take one look at the back of someone’s head and know if they were attractive or not.
Which was why on a slow Tuesday afternoon, his gaze was locked onto a male customer who had wandered into his shop and fixated on the display of chocolate truffles in the corner, back turned to Minho. He seemed about Minho's age and wore an oversized black coat with matching skinny jeans and a face mask.
“Lhasa Apso,” Felix chirped beside him, dislodging Minho from his thoughts.
“Huh?”
Felix pointed out the store window at a small dog with long silky hair walking by with its owner. He had been obsessed with dogs lately and regularly pointed out breeds he recognized passing by the shop.
“Isn’t that a Shih Tzu?” Minho asked. Admittedly, he was more of a cat person and took more amusement out of Felix’s love of dogs than the dogs themselves.
“Rookie mistake. Lhasas have longer noses and more proportionate bodies than Shih Tzus. Plus they always have dark-tipped ears like that one.” Felix pouted longingly at the dog before it disappeared. “So cute…”
“Not as cute as Yongbok-ie." Minho pinched Felix’s cheek, using his Korean name to irritate him. The younger swatted his hand away and returned his attention to the stack of custom orders before him.
Minho took this opportunity to resume admiring the back of the stranger’s head.
He has a nice head shape, Minho observed, then wondered if such a thought bordered on creepy. I mean… some people have nice eyes. And some have nice… skulls... Right?
The customer turned to the side to unwittingly offer Minho a new angle to view, his dark bangs cascading (a little too perfectly, if Minho was being honest) over his eyes as he perused the chocolates on the adjacent wall. When he pushed back his hair and stilled absentmindedly, exposing his profile—or as much that can be seen with the face mask—Minho deduced that yes, he was indeed good-looking.
Okay, now you’re being creepy, the prudent part of his brain piped up. He tore his gaze away briefly as the customer picked up a box of chocolates and headed toward the counter. The bangs that fell back over the boy's face couldn't hide the redness and exhaustion in his eyes, which elicited a sympathetic smile from Minho.
"Hello," he defaulted to his cheery customer service voice. "Did you find everything you were looking for?"
The boy stared at Minho for a second before nodding.
"Great." Minho eyed the assortment of truffles on the counter. "Oh, good choice! These are my favorite."
The other glanced up at him with slightly wide eyes and looked back down, still wordless. Minho cringed through a wave of embarrassment of the failed small talk.
Minho rang him up without further commentary, grateful when the bell above the door chimed to signal that another customer had walked in, breaking the awkward silence.
"Have a nice day." Minho placed the truffles box in a bag and handed it to the boy who nodded and quickly exited the shop.
Attractive but lacking manners, he thought as he watched the stranger through the window cross the street and disappear down the block.
***
It was another slow day and Minho was re-arranging the display of imported confections against the wall. Time passed by slower than drunk molasses when he helmed the shop alone. He wished that he shared all his shifts with Felix; the days were more bearable with the younger to keep him company. He wouldn't have admitted it aloud but despite the bickering and teasing nature of their relationship, Minho considered him one of the few genuine friends in his life. It boiled down to the fact that Lee Felix was a kind-hearted person and Minho appreciated that simple goodness. Sometimes the younger was kind to a fault—another reason for Minho to stick closely by him.
On most days Felix didn’t need to be protected, Minho knew this, but Felix had once confessed that he appreciated his big brotherly presence anyway, to which Minho had responded by petting his hair.
The doorbell interrupted his musings on his friend.
In walked a familiar face, except this time it was unobstructed by a mask, revealing full cheeks contrasted against an angular jawline. He wore a green hoodie with an English acronym Minho didn’t recognize emblazoned on it and faded jeans that bunched up at his ankles over sneakers.
It had been four days since Minho first saw the boy (not that he was counting) whose eyes looked considerably brighter this time. He pulled the hood down from his head and smoothed over his messy hair, threading his fingers through his bangs. As before, they fell into place in perfectly imperfect chunks. Annoying.
Minho reminded himself it was impolite to stare. “Welcome,” he greeted, fussing some more over the display.
“Hello,” the boy responded with a slight bow. He surveyed the numerous aisles of confections and walked up to the display counter in the middle of the shop which was filled with chocolates wrapped like candy. He looked over them slowly while tapping a finger on his chin.
“Feel free to grab a bag and mix and match.” Minho nodded toward the stack of bags on the counter. “I’ll be with you whenever you’re ready.”
“Oh... Okay. Thanks.”
Not wanting to put his customer on the spot, Minho returned to the check-out station and focused on neatening the ribbons and bags under the countertop. He threw occasional glances at the boy who furrowed his brow in concentration as he picked the chocolates he wanted one by one. Minho quirked a smile at the way he gently handled each wrapped piece, as if to avoid making noise.
After several minutes the boy approached him with the bag half-full.
“Nice to see you again,” Minho blurted out before he could stop himself. He hoped his tone came off casual.
The boy seemed to search for a reply before opening his mouth. “Sorry,” he began softly, “about last time. I was really sick and my throat was closed up so I couldn’t talk. Like, at all. The only things I could eat were jello and chocolate, and guess which I like better.” He huffed a weak laugh. “Anyway, I hope you didn’t think I was an ass or something.”
Minho was caught a little off-guard by the confession. “Oh. Well don’t worry about it, glad you’re feeling better. You definitely look better. Not that you looked horrible before I mean—” Minho hastened to say while he silently cursed himself.
The other smiled, relief dancing across his face.
Minho bit the inside of his cheek to avoid spewing further embarrassment and completed the transaction.
“Have a nice day.” He held the shopping bag toward the boy, and their fingers brushed in the exchange which sent a jolt straight to Minho’s chest.
“Thanks, you too,” the boy replied cheerfully and stepped out of the shop.
“Thank you,” Minho whispered after he was gone, distracted by the strange sensation brewing in his chest.
***
It had been a whole nine days since Minho last saw him. That customer with the cute round cheeks and sweet eyes framed by handsomely thick eyebrows and dark hair that looked soft to the touch—
Not that Minho’s heart raced when he recalled those features, nor was he counting the days, absolutely not.
It was the beginning of December which meant that the chocolatier saw a sharp increase in business for the holidays, which in turn meant more inventory to manage and gritting through conversations with entitled customers with a polite grin. He was also thankful for the distraction; the quiet ease of slow days could only mean more time to think about him.
(Minho thought he had stronger pride than this, he really did.)
He was, however, feeling less thankful when he found himself in the midst of a hectic day politely refusing to haggle with an elderly customer. In a sheer stroke of unluck, the doorbell chimed at that moment to announce that he was back. Minho tried to ignore his presence, but the boy burned in his peripheral vision until the irate man in front of him invaded every inch of his senses like loud, unrelenting static.
Felix had initially tried to reason with the customer before he was steamrolled and met with the age-old demand to see the manager, at which point Minho intervened.
“I’m sorry," Minho kept his exasperation at bay, “but the prices aren’t negotiable.”
The elderly man shook his head. “You young people don’t understand how to treat customers. You will never foster loyalty if you treat people like walking bags of money and don’t care if you never see them again.”
I wouldn’t mind never seeing you again, Minho thought but offered an apologetic look instead.
“You think I’m old so I have no value to you as a customer,” the man raised his voice.
“Of course not, I don’t—”
“Shut your mouth when I'm talking! Did your parents raise a man or a dog!”
From the way the man’s face grew alarmingly red, Minho couldn’t help but think that he was upset about something bigger than haggling at some local chocolatier.
Minho stood at a loss for words, especially since he couldn’t snark back at an elderly customer no matter how much the latter deserved it.
“Excuse me, sir.” Minho snapped his head toward the new voice cutting into the conversation. It was full-cheeks boy who bowed at the old man. “If you would allow me, I’d be happy to purchase some chocolates for you.”
The old man stared at the newcomer in confoundment.
“Is there anything in particular you wanted?” the boy asked with a disarming smile.
The man searched for something to say, his brows furrowed in anger but the redness fading from his face. “What? No, I don’t want anything from this run-down place.” He swatted at the air dismissively but the boy’s smile didn’t falter as he resumed speaking.
“If I may suggest, there’s a nice confectionery several blocks down.” The younger gestured with both hands toward the direction. “You might find the prices there are more reasonable.” His eyes flickered to meet Minho’s briefly. “The quality isn’t as good as this shop’s in my humble opinion, but it’s more than acceptable for the price point.”
The old man grew silent. Minho avoided his gaze and braced himself for a scathing remark, but the man looked him up and down with a sneer, presumably as a final “fuck you” before walking out of the building.
Minho’s shoulders slumped in relief and he turned to the hero of the day. “Thank you.”
“Nah, don’t mention it. I used to work in retail, I know how it is.”
“Oh?”
“I used to work at a department store across town." He shrugged and looked upward in reminiscence. “Ah... I still have nightmares about the stuff customers said to me," he chuckled dryly as he shook his head.
“Well noted,” Minho chuckled back. “Really, thank you.” He paused, unable to suppress a sudden urge to tease. “Though technically you did chase away a potential paying customer…”
“Is that so?” the boy snorted. “Do you want me to bring him back? I can do that for you.”
“No!” Felix answered instead, looking like a kicked puppy, “I mean, please don’t?”
The boy faked a solemn expression and pounded his chest twice in solidarity. Felix responded with a thumbs-up.
“Anyway,” he turned back to Minho with eyes that were somehow warm and piercing at the same time. “Speaking of paying customers,” he pointed to himself, “may I have that set of assorted dark chocolates back there?” He then pointed to a large heart-shaped box behind the counter.
Minho was happy to oblige. "Of course."
“I’m Jisung, by the way. Nice to meet you. Like, formally I guess,” the boy said with ease, as if divulging his name gave him permission to relax.
“I’m Minho. Good to meet you too, formally.” The two shared a small smile. “So um, do you need anything else?”
“Do you have ribbons for special occasions? To wrap the box with?”
“Sure, we have a few. Which do you need?”
“Something that says happy anniversary on it.”
Minho’s heart dropped but he caught himself before his expression could betray him.
“Sure thing,” Minho forced out a more cheerful tone. He searched under the counter and retrieved the ribbon that said ‘Happy Anniversary’ with whimsical flourishes around the words, which only deigned to mock the situation. He suppressed whatever so-called crisis he was going through and tied the ribbon around the heart-shaped box and carefully tugged it into a bow, wishing he didn't feel the heat of Jisung’s gaze as he did so.
“Pretty,” Jisung said and Minho looked up without thinking. Jisung was leaning forward on the counter, his eyes fully on Minho, searching and kind.
The bow. He meant the bow.
Jisung paid for his item and his face lit up at the shopping bag presented to him which adorned a cute snowman design.
This time Minho made sure to avoid brushing their fingers.
“Have a nice day,” he said. He willed his mouth to curve into a semblance of a smile.
“Thanks, you too.” The other walked backwards toward the door, locking eyes with Minho before turning to exit into the street.
***
“Is your crush that bad?”
Felix’s voice snapped Minho out of his unfocused staring somewhere beyond the window. “Huh?”
“Your crush on that guy, the one who chased away the nasty old man a couple of weeks ago.”
“I don’t have a crush.” Minho scrunched his nose at the last word as if he’d sniffed something rotten. “And need I remind you that he’s taken.”
“There’s something weird going on between you two," Felix said ignoring Minho’s words. “He comes in every other day and always asks you for recommendations, even when I’m not busy. I’d be insulted if it wasn’t so cute.”
“Ha ha,” Minho deadpanned with a mock-glare. “He has a sweet tooth for chocolate, so what. And instead of worrying about my love life how about you make sure the leftover advent calendars are displayed near the door. Like I asked you to do. Repeatedly.”
Felix rolled his eyes but walked out behind the counter to oblige him.
“Good boy,” Minho said in a singsong voice.
“I’m not your cat.”
“You should be so lucky! My cats are steeped in the life of luxury and decadence.”
It was true that Jisung did tend to seek out Minho, enthusiastically buying whatever the latter had recommended, but it couldn't have been anything beyond a friendly routine. Not when Jisung was very much In A Relationship. Minho prided himself on being a practical person; pining over someone unavailable would have been the polar opposite of practical.
It was five minutes to closing and Minho tinkered with the holiday window display out of restlessness, when the doorbell chimed. Dammit, this better be quick, Minho thought reflexively. Few things annoyed him more than a customer wandering in at the last minute and taking their sweet time (they’d walk out without buying anything, on life’s crueler days).
“Hello,” a familiar voice said. Minho turned around to see Jisung standing before him in a dark gray peacoat, baby blue sweater underneath, and gray slacks. His bangs were styled with an off-center part, exposing a tasteful amount of forehead. His cheeks and the tips of his nose and ears were rosy from the cold which only made him look more adorable than usual.
“Hi,” Minho said breathlessly. Jisung stood a few feet away but he seemed dizzyingly close.
“I’ll make it quick, I promise,” Jisung assured, then walked over to the corner to pick up a small box of assorted truffles—the one he’d bought when Minho first saw him weeks ago. “See? I won’t keep you.”
Minho gestured Jisung to follow him to the check-out counter. Felix coughed from the other end of the shop, trying to disguise his giggling. Minho shot him a desperate look as if to say oh god please don’t say anything please please.
Fortunately, Felix excused himself into the back room and took with him any chance of causing a scene.
Minho completed the transaction as quickly as possible and handed Jisung his purchase, hoping his warm face wasn’t blushing too obviously. “Have a nice evening.”
"You too," Jisung replied eagerly. He lingered for a moment as if to say something else, but he settled for a cordial nod and made toward the door only to stop again after a few steps and turn around halfway.
Minho chastised his own heart for beating so loudly, for daring to hope that Jisung would turn around and close the distance between them, for wanting to know the warmth and scent of his embrace—
The sound of the door shutting behind Jisung cut through his train of thought and he anchored himself once more in reality. He felt stupid for succumbing to such delusions even for a second.
Felix popped his head out from the back room. “Did you ask him out?”
“What? Absolutely not.” Minho returned to his station to close out the cash register. “What part of ‘he’s taken’ isn’t getting through your head?”
“Well, he doesn’t act like he’s taken. Not with how he flirts with you constantly.”
Minho bit the inside of his lip. No more hoping.
“Felix, this isn't some sort of romcom where an existing relationship is just a pesky technicality to overcome. Besides, Jisung doesn’t flirt. He gives me money in exchange for my goods, that’s it.”
Felix snickered and Minho immediately regretted his choice of words.
“I forgot that you’re five years old,” Minho sighed and continued to balance his register. Might as well be grateful for the levity in mood, he guessed.
Fifteen minutes later, Felix was bundled up, slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and gave Minho a lazy salute. “I’ll be heading out first, hyung.”
“Okay, see you tomorrow, Lix. Get home safely.”
Felix halted when he reached the front door, his hand stilling on the door handle. He turned to flash Minho a megawatt smile before pushing through outside.
“Weirdo,” Minho said fondly under his breath.
After going through the motions to close up shop, he stepped outside to lock the door and secured the folding gates shut. He was bundling his scarf around his face when he started at a figure standing to his right, half a dozen steps away.
Jisung exhaled as his eyes met Minho’s. His breath curled in the cold air and the street light cast a shadow across his face in a way that made Minho wonder if this was a dream.
“Hi again." Jisung’s voice was low and dulcet and he was very much not a dream.
“Oh,” Minho replied dumbly. “Uh, hi.”
A few awkward beats passed. “Can I help you?” Minho’s tone was mild instead of accusatory. “Is there something wrong with your purchase?"
“No, not at all," Jisung rushed to say. He fiddled with the handles of the bag he was holding and a moment later he pulled out the box of truffles, the very one he'd just bought from Minho. “This… This is for you.”
Minho hesitated; Jisung stepped forward with a soft expression. "You said this was your favorite, right?"
"What… I…" Minho accepted the box, his eyes flickering between it and Jisung.
"I'm sorry." Jisung took a step back. "Am I making you uncomfortable? I can go—"
"No," Minho blurted out before taking a deep breath. "I mean… thank you. For this. I didn't expect it, is all."
"You're welcome." Jisung stuck a hand in his coat pocket and shifted his weight between his feet, clearly working through his nerves still.
"You must be freezing," said Minho. The idea of Jisung waiting for him on a winter night brought back the warm pull in his chest, but Jisung didn't need to know that yet. "Sorry I didn't close up sooner."
"Don't apologize," Jisung laughed. "You had no way of knowing I was out here."
Minho suddenly remembered Felix looking out the door with that goofy grin. He must've peeked Jisung standing outside. Now he'll really be convinced that we're living in a romcom...
Wait, romcom? This wasn't Minho's reality. His reality came in the form of Jisung clutching the heart-shaped box and an anniversary ribbon tied around it, trailing a mile long.
What the hell was Jisung thinking, pulling a stunt like this?
What was he himself thinking, so caught up in the moment that he’d glossed over this important fact?
Minho frowned at the gift in his hands. "I can't accept this."
"Why not?" Jisung asked in confusion.
"Aren't you—aren't you involved with someone?"
"No. What makes you think that?"
Minho mirrored the other's confusion. "Didn't you celebrate an anniversary like 2 weeks ago?"
"Anniver—?" Jisung visibly relaxed as realization dawned on him. "The heart-shaped box with the ribbon. I bought it for my dad to give to my mom for their anniversary. He was busy that week so he asked me to pick up a present, and I figured chocolate was a safe choice." He chuckled ruefully. "Looks like it complicated things for me, though."
Minho blinked at him as equal parts relief and embarrassment washed over him.
"Oh," he said in a small voice. "I shouldn't have presumed."
"No, it's fine. I'm the dummy for failing to see how that could look." Jisung offered a reassuring smile.
Minho shut his eyes and retreated farther into his scarf, tempted to pull it entirely over his face. He waited for the moment to subside and when he opened his eyes, Jisung was standing close enough that the clouds of their exhaled breaths mingled. From this proximity Minho could smell a hint of Jisung's aftershave mixed with cherry chapstick—a new detail to file away in his memories.
“So are you headed home?” Jisung mercifully broke the silence.
Minho glanced at the time on his phone and stowed the gift inside his shoulder bag. "Yeah, I have to catch my bus now."
"Can I walk you to your stop?"
Minho nodded, trying not to be too obvious in his delight, and the other boy fell into step by his side as they headed down the street.
"You're my hyung, right?" Jisung piped up. "I'm twenty-one."
"What a nice way to imply that I look old," Minho said with no edge to his words. "And yes, I am your hyung. I'm twenty-three."
"Hyung-nim." Jisung bowed playfully which earned a hip check from Minho.
As they walked amicably in the dark, Minho’s head flooded with a million things he wanted to ask Jisung: he was curious about his loftier goals in life, but mostly he wanted to know about the small details that made Jisung who he was, trivial things that only someone who’s seen the innermost chamber of Jisung’s heart could think to ask.
For tonight, Minho was content to walk side-by-side with him to the bus stop.
"You know," Jisung said after a stretch of comfortable silence, "I'm glad I gathered up the courage to talk to you today. I was starting to become broke after visiting your shop so often."
"And whose fault is that," Minho teased.
"Didn't you notice how much I was flirting with you? I thought I was laying it on pretty thick! Would've been nice if you had flirted back, or said something at least, so that I could've cleared up the misunderstanding sooner. And spared my poor wallet."
"Still not my problem," Minho said in singsong. Jisung laughed and shook his head.
They reached their destination after a couple more blocks.
"This is my stop.” Minho was secretly disappointed that they’d arrived so quickly. "Will you be alright getting home?"
"I live just a few blocks from your shop. Walking a few more won't hurt."
Minho's breath hitched at the sincerity in Jisung's eyes when he spoke. He looked unreasonably beautiful under the moonlight, that Minho had to stop himself from reaching out to touch the younger's face.
Instead he reached into his bag to retrieve the truffles box and opened it to reveal the delectable confections inside. He held it out to Jisung with both hands. "Here, take one for the road."
"Any one of them?" Jisung asked.
"Anything."
Jisung seemed to mull it over as he gently removed one of Minho's hands from the box and brought it to his face, lips brushing against a knuckle before pressing a kiss onto the back of the older boy's hand.
Jisung immediately ducked his head and the blush that spread across his cheeks was evident in the dim light. "Sorry, hyung, I can't believe I just did that." Despite his embarrassment their hands remained clasped together in the space between them. Both of their fingers were bitten by cold, but the touch felt like fire.
"It was cute," Minho said, trying to ignore that his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. "You're cute."
Jisung smiled sheepishly and with his free hand grabbed a truffle from the box as if to dodge the compliment.
"Holy shit, this is so good,” he said around a mouthful of velvety chocolate.
Minho smiled at the way Jisung's cheeks got even fuller when he ate.
They finally unlinked hands to exchange numbers: Minho added a chipmunk emoji next to Jisung's contact, while Jisung saved Minho as "Soonie Doongie Dori's Dad" upon Minho's insistence. (He promised to bombard Jisung with pictures of his babies later.)
Shortly afterwards, the bus sounded its arrival down the road, which Jisung took as his cue to part. The two exchanged good-bye waves and Minho watched as Jisung walked back in the direction they had come from.
Minho wondered if it was possible to take one look at the back of someone’s head and fall in love.
And as if he'd read Minho's mind, Jisung turned around with an easy smile that was visible even in the growing distance, before he disappeared into the night.