Chapter Text
Kim Dokja is an ordinary man. He works the morning shifts in his small coffee shop, owned by him but mostly managed by his company. It's monotonous work— taking orders, making drinks, printing receipts, gathering paperwork, calculating taxes, smelling the now vile scent of coffee beans every day, and so much more hair-pulling than Wukong does.
Dokja sighed. Sangah said that she’d be a bit late today since she was going to retrieve some books she was looking for in the library. Unfortunately, that would mean that Dokja would have to deal with Yoo Joonghyuk. Normally, his coworkers would take his order, and would sometimes even strike up a casual conversation with the stoic man. Though it seemed that when Dokja tried, he was the sole exception— Joonghyuk seemed to have a special hatred reserved just for him, and Dokja had no idea why.
Luckily, Tuesday afternoons weren’t busy enough for Dokja to be in a worse mood than he already was. The warm sun shone through the windows of the shop, bringing a bright glow to the polished marble counter. The playlist he chose hummed over the speakers.
Dokja sighed as he refilled the bin of (disgustingly aromatic) roasted coffee beans. He’d have to remind Hyunsung to help him grind them later. The wind chime at the door sounded as he finished wiping off a few layers of dust from a display shelf.
“Welcome to Scenario Sips!”
He called out from behind the counter, as he spotted Joonghyuk. He set the towel he was using down, hurrying to take his order, albeit reluctantly. His newly pasted-on smile dropped as he saw the tall man looking down at him.
He looked god damned awful .
His black hair, which would normally be a glossy black curtain across his scalp, was tangled and matted. That only highlighted his abnormally pale skin. He was dressed in a ratty gray tee and a pair of black cargo pants that looked like they had probably been washed a month ago, a stark contrast from his usual clean aesthetic. His usual black coat was missing, too. And— he smelled absolutely delightful, Dokja would add, except he didn’t.
He smelled horrendous. Dokja openly gaped at Joonghyuk, but closed his mouth as he realized what he was doing.
“Are you going to take my order or not?”
Joonghyuk scowled at him, his eyebrow twitching. His sharp, intelligent black eyes, with thin double eyelids and thick eyebrows, defined by a jaw that could cut throu- oh, wait wait. What the hell was he going on about? Why was he going so into detail about his—
Joonghyuk slaps him.
Slaps him.
Hard.
Right across the face.
Dokja looks up at Joonghyuk, his eyes twitching as the pain of the slap blooms across his face. His teeth grind together in an attempt to reign his anger in. He brings a stiff hand up to his face, clutching at his sore cheek gingerly.
“ Now will you take my order?”
Joonghyuk still has the damn nerve to look attractive while being the very reason why Dokja’s entire day is now ruined (despite his day being unable to get any worse). They glare at each other, the tension between them so thick it could be cut with a sword. Dokja’s just about ready to pounce on Joonghyuk, but as he’s about to d o so, he’s interrupted by Sangah rushing in from the entrance, tripping over her shoes to get behind the counter, gripping a large bag of books and her belongings.
“So sorry I’m late-”
She pauses as she sees the scene before her.
The two men glare at her, Joonghyuk’s arm outstretched across the counter as if ready to strangle Dokja (he probably is), and Dokja leaning across the counter. Sangah blinked, looking at Dokja and back at Joonghyuk.
“Dokja…what happened this time..?”
Dokja scoffed at her words, jabbing a finger at Joonghyuk’s face accusingly.
“Don’t you see? This homeless-looking guy is clearly trying to strangle me—”
The ‘homeless-looking guy’ growled.
“Kim Dokja isn’t taking my order, Sangah, So I tried to teach him a lesson—”
Sangah cut them both off with a disappointed sigh. The two men reflexively looked down at their feet, their heads hanging in shame.
“Dokja, didn’t I tell you that you have to be nice to your customers? And Joonghyuk, I don’t know what’s your problem with Dokja, but don’t be mean to him, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The two men say in unison, chastened. With that, Sangah heaves a sigh, before leaving to go to the locker room, muttering about them being “...two grown men, for Olympus’ sake!” . As soon as the door shuts behind her, Dokja turns and hisses at Joonghyuk,
“You damn bastard, making me look all guilty!”
The taller man glares down at him.
“So? You were guilty!”
Dokja grabs the collar of Joonghyuk’s shirt, pulling it towards himself so he’s face to face with Joonghyuk. As he’s about to scream some expletives in his face and possibly punch his face in, Hyunsung walks in.
Hyunsung’s face turns red as he sees the scene before him, stuttering over his words as he apologizes.
“U-uh, so s-sorry for interrupting..u-uh..I’ll come b-back at night! Sorry, boss!”
(💀)
Hyunsung runs into the door accidentally as he makes his ungraceful and hasty retreat, the wind chime hanging at the door falling off with a clang. The door slams shut behind him, leaving the two men alone.
The pair are frozen, staring at the place where Hyunsung was just standing. Dokja suddenly realizes what Hyunsung may have seen—or assumed he saw—a private moment between two lovers. Dokja flushes at the thought, and he releases his grip on Joonghyuk’s shirt collar, accidentally shoving him backwards in the process as he turns away in embarrassment.
“Oi!”
Joonghyuk growls.
“Forget that ever happened.”
Dokja mutters, his voice higher pitched than normal. Even Joonghyuk’s face is tinged a pale pink, though it quickly fades out. He clears his throat.
“Kim Dokja. Will you take my order yet?”
Dokja jumps, laughing nervously.
“R-right! Plain black coffee?”
Joonghyuk raises an eyebrow, but he nods all the same.