Work Text:
Hyunjin discovers through a friend of a friend that Chan works the Monday-Wednesday-Thursday shifts at one of the coffee shops on campus where Hyunjin has every intention of becoming a regular at starting…now.
He pushes through the doorway at Whole Latte Love. Welcome bells jingle overhead to announce his arrival and cut through the soft bedroom beats of Cigarettes After Sex filtering out of Hyunjin's headphones.
The coffee shop is crowded. There's a line from the tinsel-covered counter all the way to a few feet from the door where Hyunjin is currently standing before he's forced to close that gap as more people shuffle in from behind. The welcome bells chime again and again. He's hit with a cool blast of winter air against the back of his jean-clad calves every time.
Chan is working behind the register, taking orders with his signature dimpled grin. The sleeves of his sweater are pushed up to reveal strong, foam-white forearms corded with muscles that flex every time he punches a hole into someone's rewards card.
Chan has been the object of Hyunjin's admiration ever since he found out that the upperclassman produced the track that Hyunjin's dance team performed to at their recital last spring. Somewhere between listening to Chan's honey-sweet voice during those countless hours of rehearsal to subconsciously starting to hear it in his dreams, a tender warmth had solidified inside of Hyunjin’s chest. (It also helps that Chan is easy on the eyes and looks like he could bench press Hyunjin pretty easily. He certainly hopes so, anyways.)
Hyunjin scrolls idly through Twitter on his phone and rehearses his order in his head so he doesn't stutter or stumble upon delivering it aloud. Quickly, the line in front of him grows shorter and shorter, dwindling steadily in obstacles between Hyunjin and Chan.
The upperclassman nods his head in acknowledgement when they make eye contact with only a few customers left and Hyunjin coolly nods back while having a minor heart attack behind the scenes. He wants to believe that Chan's smile grows a little brighter because of him.
Right as Hyunjin makes his way to the front of the line, however, one of Chan's coworkers clocks in and beckons Hyunjin over to the adjoining register. Chan's in the middle of taking a complicated drink order so Hyunjin can't play it off like he's still deciding for long enough for Chan to open up without everyone else in line crying mutiny and collectively deciding to grind up Hyunjin's disarticulated limbs in the espresso machine like a bag of Colombian beans.
"Good morning!" Chan's coworker, whose name tag reads Seungmin, greets Hyunjin as he steps forward.
Hyunjin murmurs desolately, "Good morning," even though this morning has suddenly become everything but. He can feel himself visibly sulking.
"What can I get started for you?"
Hyunjin pulls down the scarf wrapped twice around his neck, knitted blue yarn keeping the bottom half of his face protected against the biting cold outside, and rattles off his order without much thought.
Seungmin’s mouth gapes open a little as he listens.
Hyunjin tries not to roll his eyes.
Conceited to say, Hyunjin’s all too used to the looks of surprise, admiration, and envy that his attractiveness inspires. He knows he’s fully capable of stopping traffic because of his face and once caused a minor car accident on the way back from dance practice, sweaty and flushed. He was cited in both the police and insurance reports as a result. Nobody had to be hospitalized, at least.
“Listen, I’m not looking to date—”
“Sorry, I think I might’ve heard you wrong. Did you say six shots of espresso?”
“Oh.” Hyunjin flushes. So he’s not getting hit on. It’s a good thing he didn’t finish that sentence then. “Yes.”
Seungmin exclaims, “You’re only supposed to drink, like, 4 shots a day.”
“Says who?”
“Says science!”
Chan looks over during the brief break he has in between customers to tell Hyunjin, “Hi.”
“Hi, sunbae.”
With a wink that makes Hyunjin want to duck his head and smile, Chan says, “Seungminnie, this is Minho’s precious hoobae. Treat him well!”
Seungmin reflexively pulls a face. “If anything, that makes me want to treat him worse.”
Chan goes to pinch his cheeks. It is a testament to their relationship that Seungmin allows it to happen without protest. “You are so cute," Chan coos. "You are the cutest!”
Hyunjin scowls as a result. Who exactly is this dweeb and why does Chan think he’s cuter than Hyunjin?
He eyes Seungmin warily, taking in the barista’s bleached blonde bangs and brown, puppy-dog eyes. Hyunjin acknowledges that yeah, admittedly, he’s pretty cute. But Seungmin is also being a massive cockblock in Hyunjin’s pursuit of a classic meet-cute with Chan and is being strangely judgmental about his coffee order to boot.
“Large iced Americano with six shots of espresso,” Hyunjin repeats with malice. He doesn’t say please either.
Seungmin takes Hyunjin’s frostiness in stride, smiling placidly as he taps away at the touchpad to ring everything up. Each successive tap for the six shots of espresso grows louder in a crescendo, until they’re like confetti cannons going off in Hyunjin’s ear, and drown out the general din of the coffee shop around him.
“Name for the order?” Seungmin’s grin grows wider. “And for your gravestone?”
Hyunjin sourly gives him his name.
The machine spits out a sticker that Seungmin slaps onto a cup and then sends along to a barista with long hair slicked back into a ponytail making eight drinks at once. “It was nice knowing you, Hyunjin.”
From behind his scarf where Chan can’t see it, Hyunjin scowls again.
☕
Despite the miasma of sleep deprivation and suffering that accompanies the fleeting weeks leading up to finals, all of campus is decorated with festive holiday cheer. Hyunjin loves it. He loves Christmastime. He loves the wreaths tied to the lamp posts lining the paths that bisect the quad, he loves all of the fairy lights wrapped around the trunks of naked trees. His favorite color is the red that paints the tips of his nose and ears when it’s cold.
“I hope it snows.” Hyunjin sighs and watches, dreamily, the billowing white clouds that form from his breath.
Felix tugs and reties his hoodie strings so tight that only the pucker of his lips is visible through the fleece-lined circle that forms. He’s trying to conserve as much body heat as possible, even if it means sacrificing his ability to see. He clings onto Hyunjin to guide him and chatters through his teeth, “You’re in-s–s-sane.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not hoping for a White Christmas this year?”
“I spent my whole life celebrating Christmas in the summer back home in Australia. I’ll live.”
Hyunjin protests, “But it isn’t a real Christmas without snow!”
“My mom bought me a PS5 last year.” Felix shrugs. “Felt real enough to me.”
Hyunjin has a whole speech prepared on the true meaning of Christmas not being about the presents underneath the tree. Felix would humor him too, but Hyunjin ultimately decides to spare his best friend the tirade.
Still, Felix must sense the way Hyunjin is literally biting his tongue on the topic and chuckles, bass reverberating throughout his chest and the layers he’s sporting beneath his padded coat. “Honestly, I think it’s cute how much you love Christmas.”
“Ugh," he groans.
“What?”
“The word ‘cute’ reminded me of this morning at Whole Latte Love.”
“Oh, right. How did it go with Chan?”
“It didn’t.” Hyunjin huffs and expels another cloud. “I got intercepted by another barista who knows Minho-hyung somehow.”
“Better luck next time?”
“We’ll see.”
They duck into another coffee shop on the way to class where Hyunjin buys his second cup for the day, equally as strong, plus a few pastries to tide him over until he finds a break in his schedule that’s long enough to eat a decent meal.
Hyunjin is griping about the hypocrisy of disparaging someone’s caffeine addiction when your paycheck is dependent on that very same thing when speak of the Devil and he shall appear—
“Hi Seungmin,” Felix greets. Their paths have converged in the doorway outside of the lecture hall for Mythology 101.
“Lix.” Seungmin acknowledges, although how anyone can tell it’s the freckled exchange student when most of his face is obscured is wild. Seungmin's eyes flicker up and over towards Hyunjin. There’s a twinkle of recognition in its depths. “Hello to you too, Mr. Iced Americano with Six Shots of Espresso.”
Clumsily, Hyunjin tries to obscure the logo of the second cup in his hands. Seungmin catches him in the act but is much more withholding of his disapproval this time around. Physically, anyways. Hyunjin can still feel the judgment radiating off of Seungmin in waves.
“I didn’t know you were in this class,” Hyunjin mumbles, upset by how much a virtual stranger has inspired such shame. He hates how he’s so sensitive and pathetically thin-skinned.
Seungmin shrugs and says, “I guess I have a forgettable face.”
Felix laughs.
“That’s not what I meant!”
“I’m only joking.” He softens like a Hersey’s kiss in the palm in Hyunjin’s hand. “Also, I’m sorry for poking fun at your order. That wasn’t very kind of me.”
“It’s fine.” It isn’t. Hyunjin fully plans to hold a grudge against Seungmin forever but Seungmin sounds so sincere in his apology that Hyunjin’s gonna look like a dick for not accepting it in turn.
Seungmin waves to one of his friends that’s saving him a seat near the front half of the class. “Your next drink’s on me. Sorry again.”
He walks off after saying bye to Felix.
“Seungminnie’s the guy you’ve been complaining about?” Felix asks as they settle into their usual seats closest to the door. Hyunjin’s next class is on the other side of campus so he always has to sneak out right before the bell.
“He’s the worst!”
“LOL.” Felix literally says it aloud like ‘el-oh-el’. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anybody describe Seungmin that way.”
“I’m a trendsetter, what can I say?”
He stares at the back of Seungmin’s head, so round and boba-shaped from a distance, practically asking to be popped. Through one squinted eye, Hyunjin lines up Seungmin’s head between his forefinger and thumb and pinches the two digits together with enough force that his whole arm shakes. He feels a petty satisfaction from playing pretend until he catches Felix casting him a strange look.
“What are you doing?”
Hyunjin mimics the action of plucking Seungmin’s head, tossing it into his mouth, and gnashing on the skull between his molars like saltwater taffy. He imagines Seungmin tastes like the grapefruit flavor Hyunjin always pawns off to someone else for being too bitter.
He answers, “Getting revenge.”
☕
Seungmin must also work the same Monday-Wednesday-Thursday shifts as Chan because he’s there when Hyunjin shows up again on Thursday morning with his laptop and provisions (read: a bag of chips and half a sleeve of crackers) in tow. He doesn’t have any classes today and while yes, 65% of the reason he’s here at Whole Latte Love is to stare longingly at Chan while he works, Hyunjin also has a paper due tomorrow night that he procrastinated on starting and needs to knock out a decent chunk of today.
He ends up with Seungmin at the register again since Chan is helping Yeji to make drinks. True to his word, Seungmin rings up Hyunjin’s order and taps a couple of buttons so that the 7250 won charge totals out to 0. “It’s on me,” he says. “Remember?”
“It’s okay,” Hyunjin protests. “I already accepted your apology the other day.”
“I also wanted to apologize for getting in the way of shooting your shot with Chan.”
Hyunjin stutters, “W-what?” Blood spreads like water color throughout the canvas of Hyunjin’s face, staining it redder than the holiday cups the coffee shop has switched over to using for hot drinks.
Seungmin lowers his voice to a whisper. “You’re not exactly subtle about your crush.”
“It’s not a crush!” Hyunjin rushes to say. It’s complicated. “I’m just a big fan of his music.”
“Sure,” Seungmin says politely and in a tone edging too close to the customer service voice he usually uses. Overly appeasing. Seungmin’s definitely not convinced.
Hyunjin doesn’t know why he’s suddenly struck with a deep-seated need to explain himself; it doesn’t matter whether or not Seungmin understands that Hyunjin’s feelings towards Chan veer mostly towards platonic, with the acknowledgement that Chan is objectively very hot, but where some wires get crossed is when he thinks about the effect that the song Dear You, has on his heart. Distinctly romantic. Oh, how Hyunjin yearns.
So yeah, it’s complicated.
Plus the girl in line behind Hyunjin starts impatiently tapping her feet to indicate that this conversation has already taken up way too much of everyone’s time in the midst of the morning rush.
“Have a good day,” Seungmin says and Hyunjin swallows back everything he wants to say in favor of a subdued, “You, too.”
Chan makes and then hands over Hyunjin’s drink with a wink. Hyunjin thanks him and manages to snag a highly-coveted table next to an outlet where he promptly plugs in his laptop and gets to work. He positions himself so that he has a perfect view of the counter and so that Chan can’t see whenever Hyunjin fiddles with his study/work playlist.
Hyunjin’s not insane. He doesn’t listen to Dear You, on endless repeat. He does, however, have seven duplicates of it so that the song comes up on shuffle more frequently than anything else but can you blame him? Chan has the voice of an angel and the sound of it instantly puts Hyunjin in a better mood, a much-needed morale booster considering Hyunjin spends 20 minutes just rearranging the same fifteen words to form his thesis statement before he even thinks to tackle the other 3985 words needed to meet the 4000 word quota.
He’s got a long day ahead of him.
Hyunjin cycles through intense periods of concentration and then longer periods of scrolling on his phone or doing quick portraits of people in his sketchbook when he gets tired of squinting down at a screen. Minho stops by the coffee shop between classes and greets Hyunjin with a second iced Americano that he rests atop of Hyunjin’s head, cold condensation dripping down the back of Hyunjin’s neck and straightening his spine to attention.
“Hyung!” Hyunjin whines, looking up and over his shoulder to where Minho is looming behind him with a smirk. He sets the drink down next to Hyunjin’s empty one on the table. Hyunjin downed the first one within minutes of sitting down and has been sipping periodically at the melting ice water ever since.
“How’s the paper coming along?” Minho asks, pointedly eyeing the amount of headway Hyunjin has made in capturing the bustling scene at the counter in oil pastels compared to the progress (or lack thereof) he’s made with gathering additional evidence for his argument.
“Slowly.” Hyunjin replies, sheepishly, “I’m waiting for inspiration to strike.”
“Looks like it already has.”
Hyunjin moves his smudged hand to inspect his handiwork as a whole, too focused on the tiny details to notice the fuller picture. While Chan’s figure is bigger and at the forefront, Seungmin appears to be the focus of the art.
“You made him too handsome.”
“Who? Chan?”
“No.” Minho shakes his head. “My idiot roommate. There’s a glaring lack of hellfire surrounding him. You’re also missing his horns.”
“You and Seungmin are roommates?” Hyunjin knows Minho moved into a new place with a childhood friend over the summer but Minho usually comes over to his and Jisung’s place to hang so Hyunjin’s only heard stories about the other boy in passing.
“Unfortunately.” Minho deadpans. There’s a fondness to it still. “I think he’s mad at me for buying you a second drink. He called me an enabler to your caffeine addiction and wouldn’t hook me up with his employee discount. Which to be fair, he doesn’t normally do anyways to be annoying, but it felt more pointed this time.”
“I don’t see how it’s any of his business,” Hyunjin sniffs, a now-familiar prickle of irritation beginning to emerge. He takes an aggressive sip of his coffee as if to say ‘Take that!’ even though Seungmin is too busy rearranging the cakes and pastries in the glass display to pay him any attention.
Minho shrugs. “He only nags because he cares. You should be honored. I’ve been dating Jisung for like, eight months, and Seungmin’s only recently started to nag him about being lazy enough to order delivery from the restaurant down the road.”
“That bento place?” Hyunjin wrinkles his nose. “It’s literally three blocks away. He doesn’t even have to wait for a light to cross the street.”
Minho lets out a disgustingly lovesick sigh. “Yeah.”
Hyunjin wants what they have but would rather chisel off his arm with the dull end of a pencil nub than to admit that aloud.
Minho leaves after confirming that they’re still on for dinner with Jisung and Felix tomorrow night.
For the next hour or so, Hyunjin works diligently on his paper and manages to knock out another 1000 words that might survive the editing process. He only takes one bathroom break during this time and is surprised to find a bottle of water sitting next to his empty coffee cups and a sticky note reading 'Drink this' obscuring the label.
He makes eye contact with Seungmin who’s wiping down tables. Seungmin pauses for long enough to curl his fingers around an imaginary glass and flicks his wrist in a pantomime of the note he just left.
Hyunjin acts out a scenario where Seungmin has actually slipped poison into the water bottle and Hyunjin pretends to choke, fall over, and die. He peeks out of one eye and blossoms at the sight of Seungmin’s shoulder shaking as he laughs.
“It’s only water,” Seungmin explains after cleaning the rest of the tables and working his way back to where Hyunjin is sitting.
With one raised eyebrow, Hyunjin demands, “Prove it. Take a sip.”
“I don’t have to prove anything. The cap is still sealed.”
“How do I know you didn’t inject the poison into the bottle like how they put the jelly inside of donuts and stuff?”
Seungmin gives off an incredulous scoff. “Do you seriously think I carry around syringes full of poison?”
“Why does a serial killer do anything? And don’t bat your eyelashes all innocently at me!”
“I’m literally just blinking?”
“Yeah, right.” Hyunjin huffs and folds his arms defensively across his chest. “I’m not falling for your tricks!”
“If there’s going to be any sort of poisoning-related deaths, it’s going to be of the caffeine variety and entirely self-inflicted.” The welcome bells chime as a group of students walk in—Seungmin’s cue, therefore, to leave. “Please just drink some water. I feel a weird responsibility towards your health.”
“Why?”
“Dunno. Maybe it’s because if you so much as cough while I’m within a hundred meter radius, Minho’s going to find some way to pin it on me. Or like wanting to take care of a baby bird.”
Seungmin turns to leave but then changes his mind partway through, reaching over to grab and unscrew the water bottle that Hyunjin’s left untouched. He takes a sip. “Like I said, it’s only water.”
When Hyunjin drinks from it later, he tells himself he’s imagining the slightest taste of grapefruit.
☕
Now whenever Hyunjin orders his usual drink and Seungmin happens to be working behind the counter, it’s usually accompanied by an equal sized portion of water too.
“Aren’t Americanos mostly water?” He complains, slipping his phone into his back pocket to free up both hands to transport both large cups.
“Yeah, except you don’t order Americanos, Hyunjin. You’re ordering liquid speed.”
“Am not!”
Hyunjin has no idea how Seungmin keeps winning Employee of the Month. The plaque in the hallway leading towards the bathroom has Seungmin’s name engraved on it for 7 out of the last 11 months. Yeji’s won it twice and Chan, who only recently started working at Whole Latte Love, has an entry for November under his belt. The rest of the slots are dominated by Seungmin.
“Sure, sure. The customer is always right,” Seungmin says placatingly with a smile. Against his will, Hyunjin feels placated.
Okay, so maybe Hyunjin does have an inkling as to why Seungmin comes so decorated and highly-praised at work. From a customer service standpoint, it’s hard to be disgruntled in Seungmin’s presence when he speaks so politely and works so efficiently. He also looks like a puppy. How are you supposed to be mad at a puppy? Seungmin’s also good at remembering names and faces and every minutiae of even the most complicated orders. He takes initiative. He’s thoughtful.
Thus, the nagging for Hyunjin to drink more water.
Whatever hostility he held towards Seungmin soon melts into something akin to affection. Hyunjin comes to discover that it’s nice to be fussed over, to have someone pay more than just a surface-level of attention towards him, and to know that somebody is thinking about him. It should feel more patronizing coming from someone who looks like tax season is his favorite time of the year and has a Microsoft Excel certification but Seungmin manages to come off as playful. He presents everything like it’s a challenge—”see if you can reduce your caffeine intake” or “try to drink 3L of water per day”—which scratches at something inside of Hyunjin that is desperate to please. To perform.
Seungmin is clocking off when he approaches Hyunjin, who is chipping away at some questions in a premade study guide, and asks, “You haven’t eaten yet, right?”
“What do you mean? I had one of the egg tart thingies with my coffee this morning.” He swipes his tongue across his teeth as if it’ll jog his memory. “And a granola bar.”
Seungmin looks genuinely horrified. “None of those things constitutes an actual meal, Hyunjin.”
“It’s a meal if it’s delicious.”
“That’s not true,” he disagrees.
“Says who?”
Seungmin cracks a smile. “Says science.”
“You can’t keep hiding behind that answer forever, Kim Seungmin.”
Hyunjin’s protests go ignored. Seungmin jerks his head over his shoulder and towards the door in invitation. “Come get lunch with me. I know a really good spot.”
He perks up like a bouquet in water. “Lunch?”
“My treat.”
Seungmin waits patiently for Hyunjin to pack up his things as opposed to the threesome of girls hovering like vultures in his periphery for Hyunjin’s spot, creeping closer for every item Hyunjin throws haphazardly into his bag because he hates feeling rushed.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
“Hold on.” Seungmin takes a step closer to tug the zipper for one of Hyunjin’s side pockets closed. He also evens out the fold of Hyunjin’s beanie and sweeps away the strands of bleached hair poking into Hyunjin’s eyes with gentle, Cappuccino-scented fingers. Hyunjin’s heart skips a beat. “You’re a mess,” he sighs.
“It’s an artistic choice.”
They pass by three popular snack carts on the way to lunch. Hyunjin whines about eating tteokbokki and fishcakes because it’s cheap, convenient, and seasonally-appropriate! “I love it when my nose drips and I can’t tell if it’s because of the cold or if it’s because of the spice.”
“Gross. And don’t you have dance practice later?
“Yeah.”
“Then you should eat something more balanced. With rice. Minho will kill me if you’re operating at less than 110% and it’s because I let you eat your body weight in junk.”
Seungmin’s restaurant of choice is a little hole in the wall with gray fluorescent lighting and wooden tables that have definitely seen better days. Hyunjin traces his fingers over a heart with the initials of two lovers carved into the center. The menu, peeling blown-up pictures of all the dishes, is plastered against the far wall with the prices written, crossed out, and rewritten in the top right-hand corner.
They both order a round of kimchi-fried rice and a plate of mandu to share. Seungmin holds up a dumpling between his chopsticks and teasingly compares it against Hyunjin’s face and head. “You’re practically twins!”
Smoothly and with a quickness, Hyunjin leans his upper torso across the table to snatch the dumpling from Seungmin’s chopsticks with an audible chomp!
“Cannibalism! Fratricide!”
Hyunjin chews with a smile so wide he feels his eyes curving up into half-moons. He can barely see Seungmin through the slits. Every time the other boy tries to pick up another piece, Hyunjin bats it out of his hands with his own chopsticks and shoves it down his gut just as quick. He can barely chew fast enough to keep up with the pace and before he knows it, Hyunjin’s eaten the entire plate.
“Oh shit,” he says through a mouthful of pork filling and gnashed-up wrappers, “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine.” Seungmin sounds sincere. He pokes at the pocket of food squirreled away inside of Hunjin’s left cheek. “You’re cute like this.”
Seungmin’s such a hypocrite. He clearly has no regard for Hyunjin’s well-being. Not when he says stuff like that and Hyunjin feels like his heart is about to burst.
☕
Whole Latte Love soon becomes more familiar to Hyunjin than the cramped two-bedroom apartment he shares with Jisung. He swings by most days between classes and dance practice, whenever he has a chunk of time to dedicate to studying, even when Chan isn’t working a shift. With finals looming so close around the corner, Hyunjin tries to shrink some of his more lackadaisical tendencies and really hunker down. Logically, if Hyunjin averages 20 productive minutes for every hour of “work” then a good study session requires a commitment of 3-4 hours at the very least.
“I’m sleeping on top of my textbooks in case I can absorb some of the information through osmosis.”
Seungmin is flipping through one of their old exams and remarks, mildly, “I don’t think that’s how that works, Hyunjin.”
“Because of your precious science again?”
“Yes.”
Seungmin has taken to joining Hyunjin during these study sessions after work and is the ideal companion because he refuses to indulge Hyunjin in his attempts at distraction 99% of the time. He doesn’t engage when Hyunjin asks him about his favorite fruits, if ramen tastes better when you put the flavor packet in before or after the water boils, or the millions of other questions that come to mind whenever his concentration begins to wane. Seungmin is good about refocusing Hyunjin on the task or subject matter at hand.
“I’m not built for school,” Hyunjin whines, letting his pencil fall with a muted thud as he sinks further down into his seat and only stopping when he feels his head hitting the back of the chair. The water stain on the ceiling looks like the ring left behind from a coffee mug, overflowed. “I’m not smart like you are.”
“I’m not particularly smart either.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just work really hard,” Seungmin explains and purposefully catches Hyunjin’s gaze. “And you shouldn’t sell yourself short. I know you’re smart in other ways. Minho says you’re quick to pick up choreo. You work hard, too. It’s why you look so effortless on stage.”
“You’ve seen me perform before?”
“I go to every show. For Minho, of course.” He tacks on that last part after clearing his throat. “But I remember the first time I saw you dance, it was as if you were dancing alone. I was mesmerized. I couldn’t see anyone else in the room.”
“T-thanks,” Hyunjin stutters to avoid a voice crack. He blushes holly berry red.
“You can do anything you put your mind to. I have total confidence that you’ll do well on your exams.” This moment is heart-flutteringly sincere before Seungmin points out with a devilish grin, “Especially since there are times when Channie-hyung has to reach for the syrups on the upper shelves and the bare skin above his waistband gets revealed but you’re too absorbed with your assignment to notice. It’s commendable. Inspirational!”
“Shut up.”
Hyunjin fixes his posture and goes back to his problem set, praying that Seungmin doesn’t comment on his reinvigorated flush or why Hyunjin is overheated enough to unwind the scarf around his neck. He’s not embarrassed about being called out for thirsting over Chan, he’s embarrassed because Seungmin doesn’t realize how he's more distracted with eyes drawn to the way Seungmin fixes his bangs or whenever someone brings a dog into the coffee shop. Seungmin loves dogs. They make him smile extra wide.
☕
Days left before Christmas: 10
Daily shots of espresso consumed: also 10 (down from 12, a marked improvement and all thanks to a certain someone with too-kind eyes to temper his penchant for nagging)
Liters of water per day: nowhere close to 3, but Hyunjin’s trying his best
Flour in his diet: none (success!)
His crush on Kim Seungmin: raging, and it’s only getting worse
☕
On the last Saturday before the end of the semester, Hyunjin gets dragged out to a house party by Felix hosted by some other foreign exchange students. Hyunjin doesn’t understand the appeal of inviting friends and practically anyone off the streets to trash your home, all so Penelope Choi can do drugs off of your brand new speakers and coat everything in a fine film of coke, but Americans are just built different, he supposes.
The place is packed by the time they get there. Hyunjin assumed he would be sticking to Felix’s side all night like glue but recognizes enough people to be comfortable with being left alone so Felix can go work his magic with an upperclassman on the dance team with candy apple hair. He’s been angling to become a throuple with Wooyoung and Changbin for what feels like an eternity now.
Hyunjin threads his way through the throngs of people towards the kitchen to grab another drink. He probably shouldn’t considering how Hyunjin’s already kind of a lightweight and the last few weeks of straight studying has plummeted his already pitiful tolerance. Hyunjin figures that it would be nice to let loose. Currently, he’s somewhere past tipsy but not quite drunk.
While cutting through the living room, Hyunjin spots Chan at a makeshift DJ booth in the corner. The plastic foldout table has a hastily drawn sign that reads: Ft. the Musical Stylings of Bang Christopher Chan ✨
He waves Hyunjin over when they eventually meet eyes.
“Hi sunbae,” Hyunjin shouts over the pounding bass and EDM beats so heavy it feels like they originate from somewhere deep inside of Hyunjin’s chest. “How’s it going?”
“Good! I’m surprised to see you out tonight, Hyunjinnie. I didn’t think you’d have the time.”
“You know the saying: all fun and no play,” Hyunjin responds. “According to Felix, anyways. He says I’m turning into Seungmin.”
“Seungmin is very fun!”
“It’s kind of you to defend his honor,” Hyunjin says even though he secretly agrees. Seungmin is fun. He’s always making Hyunjin laugh. “So how long have you been DJ-ing as a side gig?”
“Would you believe I’m doing this for free?”
“Absolutely.” Chan is definitely the type to spread himself so thin he becomes translucent in the light rather than feel like he’s letting someone down. “You’re too good.”
“This is not an entirely selfless act. I’m also testing out some brand new tracks, like this one for example.” Chan clicks a few times on his laptop and then the beginning notes of Dear You, fill the crowded room, beautifully familiar before Chan introduces some techno elements and the song is much more suited to a club than the accompaniment to a contemporary dance piece. Despite the busier elements on the remix, the vocals remain the highlight for Hyunjin. It arrests him completely.
“How do you like it?”
“You could be singing over a Gregorian chant or jaunty sea shanty and it would go platinum on my phone.”
Chan throws his head back when he laughs. Hyunjin admires the line of his throat and his Adam’s apple as it bobs. “Flattering as that is, I’m not the one singing.”
Hyunjin furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "But someone told me you sang on the track?"
"I did some of the background vocals but Seungminnie deserves most of the credit. 99% of this is his voice."
“Seungmin?” The whole party comes to a grinding halt in Hyunjin’s mind. He sobers up immediately, in one fell swoop. “Kim Seungmin?”
“Yeah.” Chan is waving at someone and beckoning them over the same way he did to Hyunjin. He’s intentional about not making it seem like he’s dismissing him though and asks, “You didn’t know?”
Of course. It makes total sense that the siren who’s enchanted Hyunjin for months is also the boy whom Hyunjin is now desperate to please and whose wish is Hyunjin’s every command. When Seungmin says jump, Hyunjin asks how high and to which plane of existence? He likes Seungmin that much. “I do now. Excuse me, sunbae.”
Hyunjin searches the house for any sign of Felix and finds his best friend posturing himself as Changbin’s own personal lap cat, one that the older boy won’t have an allergic reaction to although the raised bumps that will later form into hickies on his neck looks sort of like hives in the dim lighting twined with tinsel and strung throughout the room. Felix’s lips are at the scene of the crime. There’s no way he’s going home alone tonight even if Hyunjin dips from this party a little early.
He shoots Felix a quick katalk message and makes his escape.
Knowing what he knows now, it feels imperative, therefore, to confess to Seungmin before the holiday break and Hyunjin no longer has the excuse of studying for finals to be spending so much time at Whole Latte Love. He doesn’t pause to consider the implications of getting his heart broken right before his favorite holiday. The shot of liquid courage he plucks out of Chanhee’s hand on his way out the door also helps to lower his inhibitions and falsely inflate his confidence. Nothing bad can happen to Hyunjin on Christmas, he’s sure.
He remembers something about Seungmin working the closing shift tonight as a favor to Yeji. Hyunjin hurries across campus, risking life and limb not to slip on the patches of ice that have formed in heavily-trafficked areas despite the university’s best efforts to salt the roads and walkways. Snow starts to fall in earnest by the time Hyunjin arrives, peering through the glass doors using mittened hands to shield his eyes from the onslaught of snowflakes, looking around the darkened coffee shop for any signs of handsome, square-jawed life.
He spots Seungmin putting away chairs on top of tables. He must’ve sent Mark home early to close up by himself. Seungmin’s a shoe-in for December’s Employee of the Month.
“Seungmin!” Hyunjin raps his wool-clad knuckles against the glass. Mark would’ve been blasting music loud enough to drown Hyunjin out but Seungmin prefers a quieter, calmer atmosphere to decompress after a shift and mindlessly run through the checklist of closing tasks. He pinpoints Hyunjin as the source of his disruption immediately and rushes to let Hyunjin in.
“What happened to the rest of your shirt?” Seungmin asks as he’s unlocking the door, referring to the way Hyunjin’s chest is on display. Silver glitter lines his naked clavicles and matches Hyunjin’s sparkly eyeshadow. His jean jacket does a pretty poor job of keeping him warm but practicality has been sacrificed at the expense of looking hot (metaphorically) for the party.
“The theme for tonight was Naughty or Nice.”
“And you went as Naughty?”
“What makes you say that?” Hyunjin can’t tell if he’s waggling his eyebrows or only imagining it in his head. The alcohol in his system is dulling a lot of Hyunjin’s senses in addition to stunting most of his fine motor skills.
“Just an educated guess.” The palms of Seungmin’s hand are like heat packs against Hyunjin’s cheeks. “You’re freezing.”
“I ran all the way here.”
“Did you really?’
“I walked briskly over here” Hyunjin amends, “because I have to tell you something. Something important.”
“What is it?”
The expression on Seungmin’s face is so soft and expectant. In this moment, it feels like Hyunjin could be delivering the worst of news or wrong him in some way and Seungmin would forgive him for all of it. How dizzying to be on the receiving end of such a look—to be looked at by Seungmin at all.
Hyunjin clams up as a result. He’s lost his ability to speak.
Seungmin is visibly processing the situation: taking in Hyunjin’s ruffled appearance and sudden disappearance from the party, the time of night, what it means that Hyunjin came here despite the freezing cold in the hopes that his memory served him correct and Seungmin did indeed take over Yeji’s shift. Seungmin makes another educated guess.
“Tell me later,” Seungmin says sweetly. His hands haven’t left Hyunjin’s face. “When you’re down to 0 shots of espresso a day.”
Hyunjin can’t believe Seungmin is turning this failed attempt at a confession into an opportunity to nag Hyunjin about his coffee intake again.
He complains, “Isn’t it counterproductive to help me kick my caffeine addiction when it means I’ll be stopping by the coffee shop less?”
“No,” Seungmin says before swooping in for a kiss. “Because I’m hoping you become addicted to me.”