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It was as calm and quiet as a small coffee shop could get at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday. In other words, nothing was happening. The hum of the espresso machine was the only sound breaking the stillness, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly ground coffee. Minho’s eyes lazily skimmed over the nearly empty room, searching for anything to do that might save him from inventing one of those pointless cleaning tasks. The sunlight filtered through the large front windows, casting long shadows across the worn wooden floor, highlighting how spotless everything already was.
It wouldn’t have been a problem if he were the one doing them - he might even find it kind of relaxing. But Seungmin, the other employee at the Bandstand Cafe, would kill him. He couldn’t exactly say no, Minho was this shift’s manager after all, but he would make sure that his supervisor knows that it was a mistake making him do something else than washing the dishes. Somehow, everyone had silently agreed that the younger employee ruled the dishwashing station, emerging from the back only when absolutely necessary. Minho had never understood why, but he wasn’t about to challenge the unspoken rule.
"Is it always this painfully quiet on Tuesdays?" Minho asked, leaning against the clean-dishes window as he handed over a scribbled list of supplies to order. It was technically his responsibility to place the orders, but he trusted Seungmin not to mess it up. Besides, it was a good arrangement for both of them - Seungmin got to stay in his beloved backrooms, and Minho didn’t have to deal with the boring and repetitive process of restocking their supplies.
“You’re a broken man, you know that?” Seungmin laughed, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet cafe as he grabbed the list and scanned it with practiced efficiency. The corners of his mouth quivered in amusement. “Everyone but you would be happy about a lazy shift. But I guess you need to get your coffee-making stats above 80% this week, so you can finally earn that maestro title or - what is it? - the recognition of a parental figure?”
Lee Know rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to respond. Seungmin knew all about his ambition to become a certified maestro and his relationship with Mr. Tuckerdale, the cafe’s owner. It wasn’t as if Minho’s bond with the old man was any different from the others’ - everyone at the Bandstand Cafe acted like they were part of one big family. Maybe that’s why the place has kept the exact same staff since it opened two years ago, despite the demanding nature of the job. The sense of belonging and homely atmosphere made the long hours and occasional conflicts easier to bear.
Those connections were probably why, when Minho heard the door open and the soft shuffle of familiar footsteps, he instantly knew who he’d see when he turned around. Without a second thought, he reached for a portafilter, expertly tamping down the coffee grounds before sliding it into the machine. He already knew what to make - Felix’s favorite, a strawberry frappe. The younger boy was a regular here, largely because his older brother, Chan - whose shift Minho was covering at this very moment - was the deputy manager of the cafe.
“How’s Chan feeling? Any better?” Minho asked as he finally turned around, a nearly completed blended drink in hand. Felix stood there, his trademark bright smile lighting up his face. Minho added an extra swirl of whipped cream on top, then smoothly snapped the lid into place before sliding the drink across the counter.
It was then that he noticed Felix wasn’t alone. Standing a bit behind him, another boy - around Felix’s age, by the looks of it - hovered nervously, clearly uncertain about the interaction. Minho glanced between them, quickly deducing that this was a friend of Felix’s, though the newcomer seemed like his complete opposite. Where Felix radiated brightness and energy, this boy exuded a quieter, more reserved yet appealing aura.
Like sun and moon. the thought crossed Minho’s mind, though not in a negative way. There was something endearing about the contrast. The stranger beside Felix was... cute, to say the least. If he could, Minho would have taken a moment longer to admire the boy’s wavy black hair and soft, puffy cheeks. But he couldn’t - he was at work, after all, and professionalism was key if he wanted to achieve his dream of becoming a maestro. So, he quickly masked his thoughts with a polite smile, brushing off the brief pause as if it had never happened.
“And what can I get for you?” Minho asked, his tone light and welcoming. “Because if you’re friends with Felix, I’m guessing you’re just as obsessed with coffee?” He smiled again, hoping to ease the tension and help the unknown boy feel more at ease.
“Just so you know, if you’re about to say iced Americano, I’m going to strangle you,” Felix teased, shooting his friend a playful glare. “This place has way too many cool, sweet coffees for you to stick with your bland usual.” His tone was light, but there was a genuine warmth in his teasing. As Felix turned back to Minho, he exchanged his coffee for a small plastic box, the contents hidden but intriguing.
“Chan’s slowly getting better,” Felix continued, his expression softening with concern. “He should probably be fine by the end of the week. You know how he is, always overworking himself. If it weren’t for me, he’d probably have dragged himself here to close the shift today and then headed straight to the studio tomorrow.” He scoffed, as if he couldn’t believe his older brother’s stubbornness. “I know you guys have a lot to do for the final project, but pulling all-nighters every night isn’t worth it.” As he spoke, he glanced back at his friend, his expression turning slightly stern, as if extending the scolding to him as well.
It didn’t take long for Minho to connect the dots. The mysterious boy standing in front of him, shifting nervously under Felix’s playful banter, had to be Han Jisung. Chan had often bragged about landing an excellent partner for his final project, even though Jisung was a year below him. The thought made Minho smile inwardly - so this was the prodigy Chan had spoken of.
“Anyway,” Felix continued, his tone lightening again, “Chan asked me to thank you, once more. And, well, I made you some brownies because that was the only way to stop him from feeling obligated to come here himself.”
“No way, are these the famous Felix’s brownies?” Minho gasped theatrically, his eyes widening in astonishment as he swiftly grabbed the box and tucked it safely into one of the cupboards behind the bar. At the same time, his other hand smoothly reached for a portafilter, filling it with ground coffee. Han hadn’t technically ordered yet, but Minho could see the uncertainty in his eyes, and he wanted to make the decision easier for him. After all, that was part of his job - reading the room and anticipating what his customers might need.
“I never thought I’d be blessed enough to try them again,” Minho continued, his tone playful yet with an undercurrent of sincerity. “I’ve been dreaming about them every night since I had tried them last time.” Though he was exaggerating for effect, there was truth in his words. He wasn’t usually one for sweets, but Felix’s brownies had left a lasting impression since the boy had brought them for Chan’s birthday. The memory of their rich, fudgy texture still lingered in his mind.
“Tell Chan he can get sick whenever he wants if it means I get more of your brownies,” he laughed, his voice light as he added the freshly brewed espresso to a cup already filled with ice and tonic water. Turning back to the two boys at the counter, Minho’s gaze lingered a moment on Han, who seemed a bit more relaxed now.
“Here’s your Tonic Espresso with passion fruit,” Minho said with a warm smile, handing the cup to Han. He made sure to pass it over casually, hoping the boy wouldn’t notice the small heart he had drawn next to his name on the cup. Minho knew he shouldn’t have done it, but the urge was stronger than his self-restraint. If questioned, he could always claim it was just something he did for new customers.
“It’s not an iced Americano,” Minho added with a chuckle, “but it’s still black coffee, with a nice mix of sweetness from the passion fruit syrup and bitterness from the tonic water. One of my favorites, so I hope you like it.” He watched with amusement as Han studied the drink, a hint of curiosity in his expression.
“And how did you—”
“—know your name?” Minho finished the question for him, with a smug grin on his face. “Let’s just say you’re kind of famous around here, thanks to Chan. He can’t stop bragging about your musical skills.”
Minho had to admit, he felt a quiet sense of satisfaction when he saw Han laugh, the sound light but genuine. The boy seemed visibly amused by the coffee he’d been given, quickly taking another sip as if savoring the unexpected blend of flavors.
“Yeah, I totally get it, Lix,” Han said, nodding appreciatively. “This coffee is something else. How much do I owe you…?” The brief pause that followed gave Minho hope that he had correctly interpreted the situation - that Han was waiting for him to fill in the blank with his name.
“It’s Minho,” he replied smoothly, a warm smile on his lips. “I’m glad you like it. You can always become a regular, just like Felix.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “And it’s on the house today. Just don’t tell my boss that I value Felix’s brownies more than my paycheck.” With a playful wink, Minho turned back to the counter, pretending to busy himself with cleaning to make it appear as though the transaction was already settled. If anyone else walked in - or if Mr. Tuckerdale decided to check the cameras at this very minute - it would look like everything was in order. Not that he was overly concerned; Mr. Tuckerdale had a soft spot for Chan’s brother, but an awkward conversation about giving away free coffee was something Minho would rather avoid.
As he wiped down the counter, he couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at Han, who seemed more at ease now, chatting with Felix. The warmth that had settled in Minho’s chest lingered, a pleasant reminder of why he enjoyed these quiet moments in the cafe. The boys didn’t stay much longer - they had only stopped by to drop off the brownies - but Minho already knew he would be replaying his interaction with Han in his mind for the rest of his shift. God, he was such a mess. He could have done so much better. But he hoped, at the very least, that Han might pick up on the subtle hints he’d tried to drop. Not that it mattered now - what was done was done. At least he had a box of Felix’s brownies to console himself with.
“Heyyyyy, remember the part where I’m also on this shift, so I should get, like, half of those?” Seungmin’s voice suddenly echoed from the clean-dishes window, startling Minho out of his thoughts.
“Weren’t you supposed to place that order I gave you?” Minho retorted, turning to face him with a mock glare. “And you’re getting three pieces, at most.”
“Well, what can I say? I’m just way too skilled and fast for this job,” Seungmin replied with a smirk. “And it’s five pieces, at least. You don’t even like sweets that much anyway.”
“You’re impossible,” Minho muttered, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
-ˋˏ ༻☕️༺ ˎˊ-
Was he acting like a pathetic mess? Maybe. Did his wallet hate him because of all the recent visits to the Bandstand Cafe? Absolutely. But for the last week, Han couldn’t stop thinking about a certain barista he’d met during what was supposed to be just a quick stop with Felix. His friend had insisted they swing by to drop off a gift for the guy who’d covered Chan’s shift, promising they’d grab a quick coffee before heading to the arcade. Simple enough, right?
Except it wasn’t simple. Not at all. Because Minho had to be the cutest person ever - charming and confident, with a smile that made Han’s heart do somersaults. And then there was the way he made coffee, like it was an art form, each movement fluid and precise. It wasn’t just the taste of the drink that lingered, but the memory of Minho’s easy laughter, his playful teasing, and that stupid, wonderful heart drawn on his cup.
Han had checked Felix’s cup at least five times, scrutinizing it from every angle, just to make sure he wasn’t being delusional. But no, Felix’s cup was heartless. That little doodle was just for him. It was ridiculous how much that small gesture had affected him, but he couldn’t help it. It felt like Minho had seen him, had taken the time to make something just for him, and that thought kept replaying in his mind every time he debated whether or not to visit the cafe again.
And so, here he was, again, pushing open the door to the Bandstand Cafe like he hadn’t been here almost every day for the past week. He told himself it was just because the coffee was good, and it was on his way home, and that he definitely wasn’t here just to see if Minho would remember him or, God forbid, draw another heart on his cup. No, definitely not that.
The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee hit him as he stepped inside, along with the low hum of conversation and the soft clinking of cups. His eyes immediately sought out the counter, and there he was - Minho, leaning casually against the bar, his gaze lifting the moment Han walked in. For a split second, their eyes met, and Han’s heart did that annoying little flip again.
He hesitated, wondering if Minho would recognize him, if the barista would remember the last time they talked, if he had thought about Han at all since then. His nerves bubbled up, and he almost considered turning around and leaving, but Felix’s voice echoed in his mind: “You’re gonna regret it if you don’t at least try.”
Taking a deep breath, Han made his way to the counter, trying to appear as casual as possible even though his heart was pounding in his chest. He could feel Minho’s eyes on him, a slight smile playing on the barista’s lips, and Han knew he was in too deep.
“Hey,” he said, his voice coming out softer than he intended. “I, uh, couldn’t resist coming back. Your coffee is kinda addictive.”
Minho’s smile widened, and Han swore his heart skipped a beat. “Glad to hear it. I was starting to wonder if I’d scared you off with that last drink.”
Han chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actually, you could say I’ve become something of a regular here. I keep missing your shifts, though. So I never got a chance to ask - did I notice something unusual on my cup last time, or was it just my imagination?”
Minho tilted his head with a playful smile. “Oh, you might have seen something special. If you’re up for another surprise, just let me know what you’re in the mood for today.”
Han grinned, his nervousness melting away under Minho’s playful gaze. “In that case, I’ll have whatever you recommend. Surprise me.”
Minho nodded, already reaching for a portafilter. “Coming right up. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll add a little something extra if you promise to stick around for a bit.”
Han’s heart soared at the suggestion, and he couldn’t help but nod eagerly. “Deal.”
As he watched Minho work, Han realized that he didn’t care how many times he had to come back to this cafe. If it meant getting to know Minho a little better each time, he’d happily become a regular, heart-doodled cups and all.
-ˋˏ ༻☕️༺ ˎˊ-
Visiting Bandstand Cafe nearly every day had its perks. Han quickly learned Minho’s schedule, ensuring he could time his visits to catch his favorite barista and enjoy those surprise drinks with cute doodles. It became a comforting part of his routine, and though he was hesitant to admit it, he always looked forward to chatting with Minho and savoring the great coffee. The cafe soon felt like a second home, and Han would often stay for extended periods, working on school assignments. Concentrating was tricky, though, with Minho always in his line of sight.
To say Han was shocked when he didn’t see Minho behind the bar one Saturday morning would be an understatement. His "friend" was nowhere to be found, even though it was a shift Minho always took. Instead, Han was greeted by another familiar face. Chan smiled widely at him, and Han instantly knew something was up. He knew Chan too well, and this wasn’t his usual “good to see you, mate” smile. It was more of a “I know something you don’t, and I can’t wait for you to figure it out” grin - a look Han had encountered many times during their studio sessions together.
“You seem like you’re looking for someone. Not happy to see me?” Chan’s laugh was light, but his eyes gleamed with mischief. He leaned against the counter, clearly enjoying whatever secret he was keeping.
Han rolled his eyes, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, not really. I’ve had enough of you after Friday,” he quipped, recalling the exhausting day they’d spent in the studio. The memory of them hunched over their work, fine-tuning every note and beat, still lingered. They’d sacrificed an entire day to finally finish a song they’ve been working on for their final project. And while it worked out, it was definitely an experience.
Chan chuckled, tapping the tamper he was holding lightly against the counter. “Well, at least it’s over now, and you can get some rest from me. Unless, of course, you keep coming here. Then you’re stuck with me,” he added with a playful smirk, clearly savoring Han’s mild discomfort.
Han shook his head, knowing he couldn’t win this round. “I actually came to see someone else. But I guess I can’t escape you now,” he admitted, watching as Chan’s smirk grew wider. The older boy was definitely enjoying this more than he should, and it made Han’s nerves tingle with a mix of anticipation and dread.
Chan raised an eyebrow, his smile almost too wide. “Is that so?” he said, the tamper now forgotten in his hand as he leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret. “Well then, since you’re here, what can I get for you?”
“Um, well, I don’t really know. I’ve always kind of… relied on your barista’s expertise,” Han replied, trying to play it cool but feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. He busied himself with looking around the café, anything to avoid Chan’s all-too-knowing gaze.
“Ah, Minho did mention you’re a bit indecisive with your orders,” Chan mused, his tone almost teasing. He set the tamper down and folded his arms, leaning against the counter as if settling in for a good chat. “Lucky for you, he picked something just for you, and it’s already waiting.”
Han’s confusion must have shown on his face because Chan’s grin turned into that familiar “I know something that you don’t” expression. He nodded toward one of the tables tucked away in a corner. “Right over there.”
Following Chan’s gesture, Han finally noticed the table he hadn’t paid much attention to before. His breath hitched when he saw Minho sitting there, wearing the biggest, most smug grin, with two coffees already on the table.
“Oh, thanks,” Han muttered, still in shock as he quickly made his way to the table. His heart pounded in his chest, and the closer he got, the more surreal everything felt.
Still in shock, he sat down, trying to focus on his drink rather than staring at Minho, who was sitting across from him.
Minho. Was. Sitting. Across. From. Him.
Han’s mind raced as he tried to make sense of what was happening. This was not how his morning was supposed to go, but now that it was, he had no idea what to do with himself.
“You look nice in your normal clothes. I mean, the apron is cute too, but... you know what I mean. You look nice,” Han blurted out, unable to take his eyes off Minho. His hair was a bit messy, but not in the usual way it got during a shift - more like an intentional, artistic mess. And the baggy shirt with a small kitten on it? Han knew Minho was a cat person; it was impossible to talk to him for more than five minutes without hearing about one of his cats, but this was the first time he’d seen Minho show it in a different way. It was adorable. The sight made Han’s heart flutter, and he quickly looked down at his cup, hoping Minho didn’t notice how flustered he was.
It was a side of Minho he hadn’t seen before, and it only made Han’s heart beat faster.
Minho’s smile softened, a hint of something warm in his eyes. “Well, you look like you need a cup of coffee,” he said smoothly, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “This time it’s Fredo Espresso. The secret is to add a bit of vanilla syrup - it gives it a hint of sweetness while still being a strong, dark coffee.”
Han listened intently, the sound of Minho’s voice grounding him a bit. There was something comforting about the way Minho talked about coffee, like it was more than just a drink to him. It was a passion, and Han found himself drawn to that energy, the enthusiasm that made every word seem more important.
“And you have…?” Han asked, eager to keep the conversation going, to keep listening to Minho’s voice. He needed the distraction, something to pull him out of his spiraling thoughts. Maybe if they kept talking, his nerves would settle, and he wouldn’t feel so exposed.
“Oh, this? Just a plain iced Americano, nothing special,” Minho replied with a casual shrug. He took a sip and then smiled contentedly, as if the simplicity of his drink was exactly what he needed. “You get tired of all the fancy drinks when you try them every day. Sometimes you just crave plain coffee.” As Minho spoke, his eyes met Han’s, and there was a brief moment where the air between them felt charged, as if something unspoken hung there, waiting to be acknowledged.
Han nodded, his fingers tracing the rim of his cup as he tried to find something clever to say. But his mind was a jumble, and all he could think about was how natural this felt, sitting across from Minho, sharing a coffee, and wishing that moments like these could happen more often.
“So… you don’t have a shift today? I thought you always worked Saturday mornings,” Han asked, trying to sound casual, but the nervous energy in his voice betrayed him. It was a simple question, almost a filler, but his mind was too scrambled to come up with anything better.
Minho smiled, though there was a flicker of something more in his eyes. “Oh, I had to ask Chan to cover for me today. I’ve got some really important plans,” he said, his voice light but with a hint of something unspoken beneath the surface.
Han’s heart skipped a beat. Important plans? He felt a rush of anticipation mixed with unease. “Important plans?” he echoed, his eyes searching Minho’s face for clues.
Minho’s gaze dropped to his drink, and he began to stir it absentmindedly, a rare sign of nervousness. “Yeah… I wanted to ask someone out,” he admitted, his voice finally revealing the anxiety he was trying to mask.
The words hit Han like a punch to the gut. The air seemed to thicken, and suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. So, this wasn’t about us he thought bitterly. His mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Had he been imagining things? Misinterpreting every lingering glance, every warm smile? The little heart doodles on his cups?
Minho looked up then, his eyes meeting Han’s with a tentative hope. “So, what do you think?”
Han swallowed hard, forcing a smile that felt painfully tight. “Yeah, of course… You should definitely ask them out. That’s… great. I’m happy for you, Minho.” His voice wavered, and he hoped Minho couldn’t hear the crack in it. The coffee that once felt warm and comforting now tasted like ash, burning his throat as he took another sip to hide his turmoil.
A heavy silence settled between them, thick with unspoken words.
Minho shifted slightly, leaning forward. “So… what do you think about getting something to eat together? I’d suggest coffee, but…” he gestured to their nearly empty cups with a playful grin, “I think we’ve already done that a bunch of times.”
Han blinked, trying to process what Minho was saying. He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he finally let it out, his mind racing to catch up.
“Yeah, of course. I mean, I’d love to- I’m really excited, I just…” He paused, taking a quick breath, scrambling to gather his thoughts, though it felt nearly impossible in the moment.
“It’s stupid, but I thought you were going to ask someone else out, and it kind of… I’m sorry. I’d really love to go out with you, Minho. Really.” Han’s voice was earnest, tinged with nervousness as he searched Minho’s face for any sign of what he was thinking.
Minho’s eyes softened, and then he started to laugh - a soft, melodic sound that instantly made Han’s heart flutter. It was one of the sweetest, most genuine laughs Han had ever heard, and in that moment, he promised himself he would do anything to hear it again.
When Minho finally stopped laughing, he looked at Han with a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m sorry, but yeah, that was pretty stupid. You really think I’d go through all this,” - he gestured to their coffees and the setup - “just to tell you I’m asking someone else out?”
Han flushed, embarrassment creeping up his neck. “I mean…”
Minho reached across the table, giving Han a reassuring smile. “We need to work on your confidence. But don’t worry - I’d love to go out with you.”
“So… I know this really good place with Korean Barbecue. Want to check it out?” Minho asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.
Han’s face brightened instantly, his earlier nerves melting away into sheer excitement. “Korean BBQ sounds amazing! I absolutely love it!”
Their conversation flowed effortlessly as they finished their drinks, both eager to continue spending time together. The cafe was filled with their laughter as they finally made their way outside, still chatting animatedly.
Chan watched them go, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. He couldn’t resist pulling out his phone to text his younger brother, letting him know that their plan had worked perfectly. After all, it was Felix who had orchestrated the whole thing, with Chan merely suggesting the shift swap with Minho - a suggestion the lovestruck barista had eagerly accepted.
“Okay, but if they end up getting married, I’m not covering any more shifts for Minho,” Seungmin called out from his dishwashing station, a teasing grin on his face. “I’m not letting that man skip out on his honeymoon. He’ll still have to come in to work.”
Chan chuckled, glancing one last time towards the door where Han and Minho had just exited. “You know Minho loves this job more than anything.”
He paused, a fond expression crossing his features as he remembered the way they looked together - bright smiles on their faces, hands intertwined as if they were always meant to be connected.
“But on second thought… it looks like coffee might finally have some competition in Minho’s heart.”.