Chapter Text
hoseok was running late. again. he found himself a job at a small coffee shop in the downtown of montreal a couple of months ago, and on every monday, he was the one to open the shop with his boss. somehow, he was always running late, running in the almost empty streets at five thirty in the morning. he loved the job but seriously, five thirty is way to early to be awake.
pushing the already unlocked door, which meant that seokjin had already arrived, hoseok let out a squick, almost tripping on his own feet.
“hoseok! could you please hurry your ass up! we’re opening in fifteen minutes!” came seokjin’s voice from the back of the shop.
“relax jin, it’s only five thirty we have thirty minutes left.” the youngest replied loudly, walking behind the counter and sliping his apron over his head.
a frowning jin came out of the back, pointing at the clock above the door. “no, it’s five forty five. stop arguing and do your job. you’re always late, i really wonder how you still have the fate to arrive on time.” he said, rolling his eyes.
whispering an apology, hoseok started the opening of the café.
hoseok was born in korea, moved to new york when he was really young and at 20, a couple of months ago, he decided he wanted some change. he moved to montreal, in canada. he was accepted in mcgill university in human nutrition. he loved the program and the city in itself was really beautiful. montreal’s diversity reminded him of new york city, and people in montreal, or in quebec and canada in general, are really nice and welcoming. there are some assholes, like everywhere, but people are definitely nicer than in new york.
mcgill’s an english-speaking university, but montreal’s and its province’s official language is french. even if most people in the downtown speaks english, there are a lot of french speakers that don’t like to use english. hoseok moved without knowing a word of french (except for the basics ‘merci’, ‘baguette’ and ‘oui’), thinking he’d learn it in a couple of weeks. oh... how wrong was he. french has to be one of the hardest language to learn, and that’s besides all of the expressions people from québec use.
he tried to learn it. he watches french movies, tries to read in french by going to the library and reading children’s books, listens to the radio in french, but he doesn’t improve. it just won’t get in his head.
him not knowing french isn’t a problem, most of the time. most services are available in english too and most customers in the coffee shop are young, have perfect or almost perfect english and don’t mind adapting. but somethings, when it comes to older customers, they’re not always as understanding.
like this morning for example.
“hi, welcome! what could i make for you this morning!” hoseok greeted.
ignoring the english and assuming he understood french, the lady stated her order. “bonjour, i’’ll take a lungo please.”
understanding the word ‘lungo’, hoseok nodded and stated the price. “we’re in québec here, young man. we speak french.”
“i’m sorry ma’am, i don’t speak french.” he said, clearing his throat and pointing to the price of the register.
“i’ll speak english just so you understand. i want to speak to your manager.” she asked, looking mad. not even having the time to react, seokjin appeared by his side. “I won’t tolerate anyone talking in that way to my employees, ma’am.”
“young man,” she counterattacked, raising her finger to point at seokjin menacingly, “ hiring someone who doesn’t speak french is encouraging immigrants to not make any efforts. if he doesn’t want to learn french, then he shouldn’t be able to find a job!”
hoseok didn’t understand much about what she yelled, but he was thankful that there was only two other costumers sitting at a table in a corner. being humiliated in a language he doesn’t even understand well was already bad enough, he didn’t need spectators.
“ he works well and was polite with you. you have no right to tell him he doesn’t deserve a job for such a stupid reason.”
hoseok could see that seokjin was frustrated by the lady, but his tone stayed firm, but polite and calm.
“ you, young people, don’t realize we’ll loose our language if-” hoseok stopped trying to understand anything and started on the long expresso. he understood that people in québec were scared of loosing their language and culture. after all, they were surrounded by english-speaking people, but it didn’t mean they had the right to yell at him. the thing he hated the most was them assuming he didn’t try. he did. he really did.
“don’t blame yourself. i’m sure you’re trying hard.” a soft, but rather deep voice said from behind him. turning around he saw one of the customers that were sitting with the other in the corner of the coffee shop. he was there almost everyday with the same person. the young man seemed around hoseok’s age and to be a bit taller. he had light brown hair, glasses on top of his head. he was really handsome, and his boxy grin made him look very kind. on this morning of april, he was wearing a long brown coat, a soft pinkish button up and beige pants with a pretty simple gucci belt. “as long as you’re trying, you have nothing to reproach yourself.”
the comment made hoseok smile softly. he knew that, but hearing it from someone else than seokjin from time to time was always nice. “i just don’t know how to improve. i barely did in four months.” he said, shrugging his shoulders. looking behind the other's shoulder, his eyes locked with the ones of who hoseok assumed was the handsome guy’s friend. he had cat like eyes, a round face with soft features. he looked very soft in general. he seemed to be always wearing black and oversized clothes that hide all of his body and making him sweater paws. his bucket hat was hiding his long black hair and his loyal black mask was under his chin, like always. the boy never talked to him. it was always his friend that was taking the order, and he was never coming alone. as soon as he was entering, he was making his way at their table. it was the only table that had a spot without a chair, allowing his electric wheelchair to slid closer under the table.
hoseok was intrigued by the guy. he and his friend spoke french, like most of the other customers, and hoseok always tried to eavesdrop a bit of their conversations when he washed the other tables that always seemed to be ‘very dirty’ at six in the morning. he thought that listening to real people talk normally in real life would help him, and they were almost the only ones that actually sat at a table this early in the morning. it definitely wasn’t because he liked the voice of the boy with black hair, nor because he was cute. nope. definitely not. only to improve his french. yep.
hoseok lost the eye contact with the other sitting in the corner almost as soon as he made it. the eyes of the latter returning to his black coffee. the same black coffee as every morning, with a straw.
“i understand. french is hard to learn. i’m lucky to have learned it when i was a kid. my parents still struggle with it.” the guy standing just on the other side of the counter responded, bringing back hoseok’s attention on him. “i’m taehyung, by the way.” the man, now known as taehyung, outstretched his hand.
“i guess, yes. thank you.” hoseok mumbled. “i’m hoseok.” the barista took the other’s hand to shake it. “could i help you with anything?” he asked, figuring that the other didn’t come up only to reassure him.
taehyung’s smile widened. “oh, you’re korean too!” hoseok nodded. “i moved in new york city when i was really young, though.”
“same, except for montreal, instead of new york.” the two stood there for a couple of awkward seconds until the taller one turned to look at his friend. “yeah, huh, my bad. could we have napkins please?”
“of course. here you go.” hoseok smiled politely, handing him some napkins.
“thanks, hobi.” taehyung thanked him, taking the napkins up in the air as if they were a trophy. “i can call you hobi, right? or maybe hyung? i’m 19.”
“i’m 20 and no, you don’t have to call me hyung.” “cool, see you tomorrow, hoseok.” taehyung nodded politely, before making his way back to his friend. said friend had pulled his mask back on his nose and hoseok heard him whispering something in french, a bit harshly. taehyung rolled his eyes, and responded with something hoseok understood as relax, yoongs, before they both made their way out of the shop. taehyung waving at hoseok, holding the door for this presumed yoongs.
hoseok sighed. taehyung seemed nice, and he appreciated him trying to reassure him, but he would have preferred if it was the other that had came to talk to him. it was wrong of him, though. hoseok should really make a move to talk to his friend, but he seemed really reserved, and hoseok would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of doing, or saying, something wrong in front of him.
suddenly, someone clapped him on the back. “developing a little crush, dear hobi?” said jin, laughing knowingly.
“shut up, jin. here’s the long expresso.” he said, handing him the coffee. “you were really focused on the two guys, eh? the crazy old lady’s gone, dude.” looking around, hoseok found no trace of the woman. “oh”
“ i think he has a crush on you. ” taehyung giggled excitedly, walking beside him.
“ shut up, tae. we never even talked. ” yoongi sighed, rolling his eyes. “ now, walk faster. i’ll be late to my class. ”
it was now april, the end of their university session. yoongi had had an eye for the cute barista since the beginning of it, in february. he hadn’t made a move, not even to go talked to him. social anxiety being his second best friend.
“ it’s not fair, yoongs. ” taehyung wined. “ you just have to push a little joystick and your chair does all the work. i’m almost running, and my legs are tired this early in the morning, okay? ” yoongi rolled his eyes (because it seemed to be the only thing he was doing around his best friend) and laughed sarcastically. “ if you hadn't insisted on going to ‘ask for napkins’, we wouldn’t be late, and you wouldn’t have to run. ”
“ hey! he was sad, okay? i couldn't count on you to go reassure him. and at least now, we know his name, that he was born in korea, moved to new york city when he was young, and that he’s 20! ” taehyung defended himself. “ you should thank me, ungrateful brat. ” at this, yoongi shot him a look, making the younger murmuring a quiet apology, trying to hide his smile.
“ not that it matters, anyway. ” yoongi said under his breath. “ and why not? ” taehyung asked, serious. yoongi didn’t mean for him to hear, and didn’t respond. they were now in front of the doors of mcgill university, and taehyung opened the door, letting yoongi inside first.
“ and why not?” taehyung asked again. “ you’re annoying. i’ll see you later. ” yoongi tried to avoid the question, making his way to his class. but taehyung didn’t want to let it go, walking and stopping right in yoongi’s way. “ no, respond, yoongi. ” he said, frowning and crossing his arms.
“ get out of my way, taehyung kim.”
“ no.”
frustration was written all over the older's face. he knew his friend knew exactly what he was thinking, because they’d had that conversation before. about dating. the conversation ended in tears (and cuddles to dry them).
yoongi knew taehyung and him didn’t see things in the same way. his friend had a more optimistic nature, and yoongi had different point of views, less optimistic. taehyung had always been beside him. their parents are friends since forever and almost raised their two only sons like siblings. taehyung knew yoongi like the back of his hand, and had always been there for him.
he was yoongi’s only friend. he was yoongi’s everything, as cheesy as it sounded.
knowing he only meant well, yoongi didn’t want to cause a scene and hurt tae’s feelings. he took a deep breath and said softly, knowing that taehyung would let him go if he used his little nickname, “ we’ll talk about it later, taetae. ”
sighing sadly, his younger friend stepped aside, letting him go to class, as expected.
“ you can’t keep stopping yourself from living your life because of it, yoongs.”
exceptionally, taehyung and yoongi were back at the coffee shop, the one close from university, and where hoseok worked. the employee was still there when the two friends came back, as if he never left.
“ you know damn well that my disability is not stopping me from anything.” shot back yoongi. “ except social interactions?” “that’s called social anxiety, dip shit.”
taehyung sighed, looked down, taking a bite of his croissant. they stayed silent for a moment, yoongi looking out the window, the younger eating.“ i just want you to be happy, yoongi. i’m tired of people stopping at the wheelchair and stereotypes. yes, it’s part of you, but you’re more than that.” taehyung said, after a while, softly, looking up with sad eyes.
yoongi smiled gently, tilting his head, “ that’s why i’m scared, taetae.”
the sudden sound of porcelain breaking made them both jump and whip their head in the direction on the sound. a cup was broken on the floor, the barista’s eyes locked with yoongi’s again, like it did on the same morning. following soon after what he dropped, the worker broke eye contact to crouch on the ground and clean, cheeks bright red.
“ i’m sure he’s different.” came taehyung’s whispered voice at 2 millimeters from yoongi’s face. yoongi startled, his eyes meeting his friend’s. “ back off, the fuck are you doing. ” the oldest said, pushing the other with his weak hands.
taehyung chuckled, sitting back on his chair. “ talk to him.” “no.” yoongi said stubbornly, putting the straw in his mouth to sip his second coffee of the day. “ why not? ” tae asked, tilting his head on the side.
yoongi shot him a look (it happens so often, it’s almost a tradition). “ i’m scared of being rejected, ” he said, looking away. “ you know it, that’s exactly what we were talking about two seconds ago. ”
“ if he rejects you, he doesn’t deserve you. it’s as simple as that. you’ll never be able to build a relationship or friendship with anyone if you never go to them.” taehyung encouraged, with his usual optimism. “ that’s easy for you to say. tall, handsome, confident. you have everything for yourself. ” yoongi deadpanned.
“ eh! i was nervous too when i I met jungkook and jimin! ” yoongi rolled his eyes. going to take a sip of his coffee, he realized he had finished it. “ instead of saying none sense, could you please go order me another coffee?”
“nah.”
yoongi’s eyes widened in annoyance. “ i’m seeing clear in your little game, taehyung kim. i’m not going to order.”
“yes, you are.” affirmed his friend, mischievous smile on his pinkish lips.
“ fine. i don’t want another one. we’re leaving.”
“no, we’re not.”
“yes, we are.”
“nope.”
“fine! but know that i hate you.” complied grumpily yoongi.
a winning smile appeared on taehyung’s lips, but he didn’t say anything.
pushing the joystick on his wheelchair to make his way in front of the counter, yoongi felt as if he would throw up. talking to strangers, ordering, was already stressful. adding the beauty of the cute barista who he was crushing on for months made it ten times worst.
stopping where he was supposed to order, yoongi found himself thanking life that they were the only ones in the café. he was sweating so much, he hopes hoseok wouldn’t notice. the later, noticing him, made his way to him, smiling wider than yoongi had ever seen him smile. “hi there! what can i do for you?”
fear made yoongi freeze. he had totally forgotten about why he was there for. frowning a little, his smile faltering, hobi asked hesitantly, “are you okay?” yoongi blinked, “ i could teach you english if you want to.” he talked so fast, he almost spitted it out.
hoseok’s frown in confusion deepened. yoongi’s speech was naturally slightly slurred, but it wasn’t what made him hard to understand. “i’m sorry, my french is very bad. did you say you wanted to help me learn english?”
yoongi wanted to hit himself in the face. not that he’d be able to hurt himself with the weak amount of force he had in his arms, but anyway… “i’m sorry.” he said softly, almost silently. “i meant that i could teach you french.”
hoseok’s smile returned, eyes almost shining. at least, in yoongi’s eyes they were shining. “you’d do that?” yoongi nodded. “oh, that’d help me a lot, thank you!” yoongi nodded again.
“could i have your number?” the oldest asked. “to teach you, you know.” yoongi guessed that was a good enough excuse. he couldn’t believe himself. out of panic, he managed to offer his crush to help him and to ask for his number. he was almost pathetic. in a good way?
“yes, of course. give me your phone.” hoseok said, smiling softly, outstreching his hand. yoongi unlocked his phone and did as asked. while hoseok was writing his number in his contact, he asked. “were you talking about me earlier?” yoongi didn’t think it was possible to get even hotter. “no.”
hoseok chuckled. “okay, if you say so. here’s my number.” taking his phone back, yoongi looked at the new contact. ‘hobi :)’ hoseok is really as cute as he looks. “you never gave me your name.”
oops. “yoongi.” hoseok tilted his head on the side like a cute puppy. “i like it.” the older nodded. “could i have a black coffee with a straw?” he asked, to avoiding to respond
hoseok laughed, looking fond. yoongi’s voice was pretty deep, but so, so soft at the same time. “of course, yoongi.” hoseok’s eyes suddenly went down, looking at yoongi’s naturally curled hands. yoongi’s eyes followed. by instinct, he tried to hide them by bringing them close to himself. he knew he shouldn’t be ashamed of the way they looked, but he couldn’t help himself. they were the only parts on his body that he can’t always hide by the oversized clothes, even with the sweater paws. “you can go back to your table, i’ll bring it to you once it’s ready.”
“okay,” yoongi muttered.
going back to taehyung, waiting at the table. “ see! it wasn’t that bad. ” he said, boxy smile illuminating his proud face. not responding, and keeping his eyes down, yoongi took his place in front of him. then, confusion made its way on his friend’s previously proud face. “ where’s your coffee. “
yoongi groaned. “ he said he’d bring it to me himself. “
taehyung scoffed, amused. “ is making a simple black coffee that long? “
yoongi shrugged, lifting his hands to show him. “ he looked at my hands .“
taehyung lifted a brow at him, “ ok… and? “ then, a look of realization. “ he though you couldn’t cary the cup of coffee. does he know you have a cup holder on your wheelchair, exactly for that?“
yoongi rolled his eyes. “ guess not. “ “ don’t worry yoongs, it’s cute. he was probably only scarred for you. coffee’s hot, he didn’t want you to spill some on yourself and get burned .“
“ i’m not a child. he should have asked.”
taehyung rolled his eyes. “how did you want him to know? don’t be like that. stop being grumpy. you’re trying to find reasons to not ask for his number and-”
hoseok arrived with said coffee, cutting the little convo short. “black coffee for you.“ he said, putting the coffee on the table in front of yoongi, the straw beside it.
the older nodded at him. “thank you.“
taehyung smiled at the two, taking the straw to open the paper wrapped around it, and slipping it in his friend’s drink.
hoseok’s cheeks darkened in embarrassment, “oh, sorry. i didn’t think of opening it. i-“
taehyung chuckled. “it’s alright, hoseok. don’t worry about that.“
yoongi tugged farter on his sleeves, taking a sip of the coffee. “you don’t need to do that, you know?“
the oldest looked up. “do what? drink coffee? look dude, it’s not because i’m disabled that you have to treat me like a kid, i-”
hoseok’s repeated no's made yoongi cut himself. “i was talking about your hands. don’t hide them. they’re small and cute. i like them.”
taehyung’s smile reached his ears and yoongi’s skin darkened in red so much that no one would have believed that his skin was normally as white as a ghost.
yoongi was shocked. cute? his ugly, curled, crocked hands? hoseok liked them? ain’t no way that one of his biggest complexes was actually getting complimented by his forever crush.
people never made fun of them. but they got looks of disgust, judgement, pity, and so on. yoongi hated them. they were impractical. they had no motor skills or any sort of strength. much worst than his arms. he couldn’t write, eat with the same utensils as everyone, cook food, wipe his butt, couldn’t even carry a cup a water without the help of his lap and wrists.
how could anyone find them cute? someone who’ll never have to live with them. someone who feels pity.
“i don’t think you’re a child, but you’re right that i should probably tell you to drink less coffee. it isn’t good for anyone.”
taehyung’s turn to chuckle now. “finally someone who agrees with me!” yoongi only scuffed again in response, showing clearly his disagreement and telling them both that he wouldn’t stop.
“you have my number. text me to set a time and day for that first french lesson.” hoseok finished, suddenly turning shy.
taehyung shut up from his chair, knocking it over. “ be careful, taehyungie- “ “ yoongi! “ taehyung exclaimed, cutting his friend off. “you asked for his number?! why didn’t you tell me?! “
“ you didn’t let me respond.” yoongi responded calmly, but not without shooting him a look to shut up.
hoseok’s looked went back and forth, trying to understand. he only understood ‘number’. “oh, does it bother you that we see each other alone? you can come, i guess. or maybe you don’t want him to teach me at all. it’s okay. it’s no problem.” the barista rambled. “i’ll go back to work.” he said, trying to hide his disappointment and disappointment with a forced smile. he turned to go back behind the counter.
“no!” yoongi and taehyung both exclaimed at the same time. yoongi shot a squinted look at his best friend. tae and yoongi communicated principally with looks.
“he doesn’t care.” the oldest hastened to say. “even if he did, i don’t care about his opinion.”
“hey! that’s not nice…” complained tae, almost whining. “and not even true.” he grumbled, crossing his arms.
“shut up, taetae.” yoongi scolded. hoseok laughed, turning back to the table. “i’ll text you.”
hoseok nodded, smiling. “cool. see you guys.”