Work Text:
the wind was cold, almost making his body all shake. he could see the leaves peacefully falling on the ground and hear the tweeking made by little sparrows. the image all came together as for a small cottage in where you could find your harmony after spending years on yearning for it.
there was not a single person that crossed him, just like everyone in the village has died and left the place unbothered, on it's own. it was a peaceful sign, or maybe, it could have been one, if yeonjun truly wanted to be present in this view.
the boy, yeonjun, had taken a train to a village his grand, grand, something relatives were living in. the decision was made after literal years of his mother begging him to do so. she used to say it would fulfill her as a mother; for her son to meet the people that somehow connected to him. but either, he was too young to travel this far away, or too busy with school, or too lazy to spend twenty hours in the train. obviously, in a village like this, placed on the other side of the world, a word like an aiport was left unfamiliar with. yeonjun had to go over the moon, taking a bus, then a plane, and then, an almost twenty hours long train ride. sadly for him, the train got broken in the way and each of the travellers that came to a horrifying number of two, had to get out of it. the original version mentioned something like getting back on the train, but later on, no one really cared about yeonjun and some other passenger that was probably like two hundred years old.
yeonjun stood in nothingness, trying to figure out a way to come home. or at least go away from this place, which really seemed like a total shithole to him. he didn't have too much money on himself, as everything was supposed to be covered by his family. he found a motel, or well, god only knows what it was, but he could stay here for the burning time of two weeks until another train would come by.
calling his somehow relatives only made yeonjun more angry, as they told him "we don't have a car, we can't come", seeming totally not so caring about their grand someone struggling as he never did in his life.
after day two of sitting in his room, shitting his pants over what the hell he is going to do in the meantime, he decided to tie his shoes and go on a walk. his greatest wish as for right now (obviously excluding the need to get the fuck home), was to drink his favourite coffee, a shaken espresso with an ounce of wanilla syrrup and some cinnamon.
which seemed pretty bourgeois and spoiled, to look for a way to drink his big-city-boy coffee in a place where he hasn't even seen a single person yet.
and well, to mention softly, no one here spoke english. not even in a tad, not even in a little bittle, cutesy way. it was not only about a language barrior, which could be overcome by using a phone translation. what yeonjun fastly realised, the people here speak in a dialect, which his google translator is unfamiliar with.
oh, i'm so fucked, he thought, when he tried to get a coffee from a shop near his motel. he tried, he really tried, he tried using some weird gestures made with his hands, he tried mimicking the wish to drink a coffee, but the stubborn lady behind the counter would simply just not get it. he sighed and just left unhappy, going to another place, which paid him off in a coffee tracker still stuck at zero.
he was starting to give up on his dreams but then he noticed a small wooden house with cute, little lamps attached to the door. it looked somehow like a coffeehouse, as there was a small board next to the entrance with a charming caffee drew on it. let's give it a shot, and he entered the place. and then, shortly after doing so, he felt like a cardic arrest or a lung disease from smoking a little too much cigarettes recently has finally came to him.
there was a counter, and behind it, there was a boy which he could describe as a ethereal. he was young, vividly charming, even though his face showed no emotions. he was tall, but probably a little shorter than yeonjun himself. his hair were dark and long-ish, almost touching his shoulders. he had a cute fringe that was covering sides of his forehead and a little of his eyes. he had some blonde highlights, which complimented his pale, but sunny looking skintone. he was dressed in a loose long sleveed shirt and had a red tie attached to it. he couldn't see his legs, but yeonjun could already tell they were long and slim; he had that face that really made him look like a doll, his skin was so clean and shiny it could probably reflect yeonjun's face on it.
"this is literally my last hope" yeonjun said to himself, aware, that he has a little more of a chance as the boy is young.
"hmm?" the doll-like boy murmured in his direction, cleaning a mug with a cloth. his eyes sparkled as he looked at yeonjun, but his face still held a secret of what he was really thinking.
"do you speak english? please say you do" yeonjun asked him, his face showing a concerned frown.
"yeah, i do! what can i get for you?" he smiled at him, putting the mug away.
yeonjun instantly felt the intense happiness and wanted to jump in to give the boy a hug. he smiled uncontrollably at him, the barista looking at him quite confused. his english was good, the accent he carried made it seem like he was fluent.
"oh my god, i tried like ten places and no one could understand me" he sighed, but now in a relief.
"yeah, i can believe. you aren't from here, right?"
"no, the fucking stupid train got broken and they just left me here. sorry, i'm just a little overwhelmed" yeonjun tried to calm himself.
"it's alright. do you have a place to stay?" yeonjun nodded. "that's good. so? any wishes for a coffee or are you here for something else?"
"no, i'm here for a coffee. i know this is a wild request, but could you make me a shaken espresso with vanilla syrrup and cinnamon?" yeonjun asked him, hearing how ridiculous the request is.
"yeah, for sure. you're american, right? i can tell just by that request" he laughed softly, and yeonjun could spend just hours on hearing him laugh.
"can't hide it, can i? well, i'm korean, which is saving me a little, but i've been living in new york for a good while."
"mhm, nice. so, small, medium or large? or extra large? or... we kind of have extra, extra and extra large. ordered the wrong cups size" the boy smiled softly, his cheeks somehow turning pinkish.
"what's the price difference in extra large and as you said, extra, extra and extra large?" yeonjun asked him straightfully, knowing how little of sum he has to offer.
the boy went over to the shelf and carried two sizes of cups to yeonjun. well, they were really big.
"i guess no price difference for you. no one would buy those big ones anyway. do you want a snack too?" he asked genuinely.
yeonjun would kill for a brownie, or a cake, or literally anything. but he could feel how little of pennies he had inside his pocket. as he felt some type of connection with the barista, he grabbed the money and put it on the desk. the boy looked at him quite confused, mostly because yeonjun didn't answer his question.
"i only have this, i don't even know if you take this currency. if you count a sum that i can spend to buy a snack, i want to. but i'm really tight on budget, wasn't expecting to be stuck here" he explained himself, bowing his head down, a little embarassed.
the boy nodded and started counting the money, which obviously wasn't a lot. it was probably barely covering the coffee, even if. after he was done, he just smiled at yeonjun with his eyes and told him to grab the money back.
"just tell me what you want. it's on the house, since you're struggling nevertheless."
"nooo, i can't. you probably don't get a ton of guests anyway. i can't rip you off like this" yeonjun protested, even though he could really get a snack for free.
"do you want me to beg you to get stuff for free?" the boy looked at him, crossing his eyebrows a little. even though he was nice, he showed him some needed attitude.
"alright. i would love a croissant that you have here. what's your name? i owe you something in future. in like, better circumstances" yeonjun laughed softly and pulled out his arm in his direction.
"i'm beomgyu. and you are?"
he shook his hand softly.
"yeonjun, nice to meet you. literally, so fucking nice to meet you."
"your hand is so cold, are you freezing? well, for sure, where is your jacket? you didn't pack them, right? it's always so cold in here" beomgyu sighed, still holding his arm.
yeonjun finally awkwardly broke the hold, which actually felt very nice, as he was touch deprived for couple of days already. beomgyu's hand was warm and soft, it represented his general peaceful look in yeonjun's mind.
"yeah, not the best position to be put in, but i will survive. maybe."
beomgyu looked at him with politeness in his eyes and started preparing his order. maybe yeonjun have already went wild, maybe he is beyond saving, but the way the boy did it made him grow some butterflies in his stomach. maybe he was just really people deprived, as he was really outgoing and often surrounded by people. but there was really something about beomgyu, his soft but certain actions such as boiling the water, preparing the cinnamon and counting it precisely for yeonjun's likings. he was walking around the kitchen like a cat, his moves were so fast, almost hard to follow with jun's eyes. he was lurking at him carefully, not really knowing why.
when he made the coffee, he put in on the counter, along with a heated croissant and a brownie dessert. yeonjun didn't ask for the brownie, yet beomgyu still gave it to him. all for free. he smiled at him, but then surprisingly got a little abashed.
"apologise, i will carry it on to your table. where do you want to sit? i guess by the heater would be the best option" he asked softly, and yeonjun widened his eyes, shocked by his politeness and well behaviour.
"are you an angel? how can you be so nice?" yeonjun said, not knowing why the hell would he say it out loud.
beomgyu smiled at him and took his food and drink to the table. yeonjun followed him and sat down on a wooden chair with a pillow on it. there was nothing else he needed right now. well, beomgyu sitting on the other chair would be nice, but yeonjun really didn't want to be a burden. as if he already wasn't.
"so, you are all set. have a nice moment off. next to you there are some magazines, but they are probably years old. whatever, take your sweet time."
beomgyu was already going back to the counter, but yeonjun awkwardly hold on his shirt which made him turn his head around.
"would you mind spending for a while with me?"
"like sit with you? i can, but it doesn't seem too good to bother a client" he said shyly, absolutely thinking this way.
"beomgyu. if you want to be a good behaved barista, you should agree to my commands" yeonjun said jokingly.
so he did sit down and smiled at yeonjun, seemingly waiting for him to taste the coffee he made. choi noticed that and took a small sip. the taste of coffee reminded him of his home, new york; the smell of cinnamon mixed with vanilla took him back to cold mornings in the centre, where he would be waiting for his friends so they could take a class together. it reminded him of afternoons spent in library, lurking through work papers he just couldn't understand. and the moments where he was awkwardly sitting with a big guitara on his thighs, trying to find a good rhyme for his song.
"i feel so stupid asking this, but can i have a sip too? it's not like i can't make one for myself, i'm just curious if i did a decent work."
"obviously, go ahead."
beomgyu took a really fucking small sip, it looked like the coffee didn't actually reach his mouth. he made a frown and carefully wiped the mug with a clean cloth he had inside his pocket. he bowed his head, which made yeonjun dumfounded. why is he so polite? is he actually held inprisoned in this caffeohouse?
"you don't like it?" yeonjun asked softly.
"not really. good it's free, because it's really a shitty coffee. i can do better, but believe me, no one in my years here even said the words as shaken espresso to me. well, in my years there wasn't a lot of people who said anything to me" he shrugged and gave yeonjun a smile.
"to me it's almost like the ones i drink at home. even better. do you speak this dialect that's used here?"
"yeah, i do. but still, it's mostly elders here, they don't order coffeee. you're the first and probably the last client of the day."
"so, what are you even doing here? if you don't mind asking, gyu" yeonjun asked him with a smile written on his face. beomgyu's eyes widened at the sound of the petname made from his name.
"i had to move here couple years ago. my grandparents got badly sick, and they had this caffeehouse for years. i decided to help them. i can only leave after they die. and i know it doesn't sound too generous, but really, i'm stuck here" beomgyu explained, playing with his tie.
"are you even happy here?"
that question made beomgyu look at yeonjun. they held an eye contact, but yeonjun was too stupid to get the message indirectly like this. beomgyu, though to his softness, looked pretty gloomy, like a ghost that decided to live on human's side of the words, being unhappy in the afterlife. he quickly realised his situation isn't even remotevely as fucked up as beomgyu's.
"it's not about my happiness. i'm alright here. i just live, don't really think about it deeply. but i am happy you came. you are the first person i can speak english with after almost three years. so sorry, if i am somehow not understable, this dialect is insane. fucks up your mind, this whole place." he said softly, a not so convincing smile appearing on his face.
"i can understand you, obviously. what would you be doing if you were in new york right now?" yeonjun asked him, eating the croissant.
"well, probably running a caffee, but a one that's visited more often. i would be studying, making music, maybe..."
"don't tell me you make music" yeonjun almost shouted.
there is no way i just found my soulmate in this shithole, he thought. yeonjun's main point of life was making music. he could even be considered an artist, with the way his audience was growing each drop. he was playing guitar, the piano, everything he could. he was writting his own music, spending hours staring at the blank paper. beomgyu made a surprised face, seemingly not really getting the excitment.
"i wouldn't say i make music, i just write some lyrics and play instruments from time to time" he said shyly.
"if it isn't what making music is all about, then i don't know. a real blessing i got locked up here. we should make something together! or i guess i'm taking it too far and draining your poor soul" he laughed loudly.
"you're not. don't be so fragile. i'm not selfless, i wouldn't sit here with you if i wasn't interested" he tried to convince yeonjun.
"i think you must be selfless, to give up on your dreams to help your grandparents. but if that makes you feel better, i can say you are selfish, which is totally inaccurate, looking at you. i guess i don't know you, you can be a devil dressed in the most angelic skin" yeonjun gave him a grin, still not really believing he could meet a soul so pure like his.
but it appeared like beomgyu got pretty overwhelmed with the conversation. maybe because it was about him, which he really didn't like. he stood up and smiled, taking the empty coffee mug. he went to kitchen without a word and started to clean it. his hands had some unbelievable delicacy in them, even though it was just a mug. it's not like it deserved delicacy.
"i can give you a paper with some phrases you might need to get around here. maybe i can somehow translate your shaken espresso into words they would understand. is there anything i should write down for you?" he asked, holding a pen.
"i don't think i need them, i will just haunt you and get coffee here, does it sound right? obviously i will get some money next time" yeonjun smiled, standing up.
"don't worry about money, just send me a postcard from new york, i would be more than happy. so, if you don't decide to show up, i wish you luck on your journey. i hope you make it home safely!"
don't say goodbye to me, yeonjun thought, waving at beomgyu. he left the place and was left with a hole in his heart. it was unbelievable that he really meet beomgyu, which seemed to be totally the coolest person he had ever spoken to. the shaken espresso will really now remind him of an angel that he met on his way. he wasn't really sure if beomgyu felt the same, probably not, since he waved him off with a pernament goodbye. maybe yeonjun should gain some pride and really leave this story like it finished today.
and he really tried.
he really tried to go for walks, but it was always ending next to the wooden house in which he met beomgyu for the first time. he didn't have the courage to enter, as he really felt he was a burden and some weirdly behaved kid from a big city, asking not only for free things, but for free company. he tried to read a book he got from a small library, he tried to lurk through his phone but the data was so shitty he could barely refresh the page.
he tried to stalk beomgyu, but it looked like he just didn't exist online, like yeonjun had a dream about him, and if he entered the caffee, beomgyu just wouldn't be there. he spent next ten days begging time to go faster, and on the day eleven, he woke up with an intention to at least try to make a good first (second) impression. yeonjun took an hour to research the languages closest to the dialect people here were using. he translated the words "can you borrow me money? :)" to like ten languages and went downstairs to the owner of the motel. jun gave him the paper and smiled shyly, bowing his head like a thousand times.
and somehow, god was on his side today, because the owner gave him some money and smiled at him. he wished he could thank him, but to be honest, he wasn't really expecting a positive reaction, hence he didn't write a thank you.
he rushed to the wooden house and opened the doors, breathing loudly. but to his surprise, or maybe not, there was no one inside. he came in, looking around, but the whole place was empty. yeonjun felt like crying, because now beomgyu is even hiding from him. just when he was about to leave, defeated, someone appeared out of the curtain. it was an old lady, she looked at him surprised.
she said something to him, which he couldn't understand even if his life depended on it. this dialect, this whole language, was just so different from english, there was no such a thing as anchor point.
"beomgyu?" he asked cluelessly.
she replied, she mentioned beomgyu's name, but that was the only word he could understand. yeonjun felt so stupidly frustrated, he wanted to cry, as he just couldn't ask straight for what, or who he wanted. at this point he was on the edge to just walk out the store and hang himself. wait, stop. it was just his dramatic ass, but really, he wanted to hit his head with a rock.
"noona!!!"
he heard a scream so familiar, it made his heart skip a beat. he looked at beomgyu. he was there. his hair were wrapped up in a loose ponytail, he was wearing a loose black hoodie. he looked like he wasn't working today, or maybe just wasn't expecting anyone to show up. when he appeared, the grandma smiled at yeonjun and left the kitchen, dissapearing from his sight.
they looked at each other, no one of them said a word. all the thing that yeonjun wanted to say suddenly dissapeared. beomgyu pulled his fringe pieces aside, seemingly waiting for anything from yeonjun.
"i was waiting for you these past days."
beomgyu said out of nowhere and yeonjun eyes widened at those words. he smiled uncontrollably, feeling like he got the second chance to make things right. or maybe, he didn't need to make seconds, as his first try was satisfying to beomgyu.
"i'm not here for a coffee. i mean i am, but i'm here for you. i want to spend time with you. go somewhere with me. do something with me. Please" he begged, without even feeling embarassed.
"alright, alright. i thought i scared you off with my weird being" beomgyu smiled at him, taking off his apron. "let's go to my house, then. it's upstairs. but firstly, a shaken espresso?"
yeonjun couldn't care less for a shaken espresso.
and then he noticed something laying on kitchen table. it was three to four papers, all written up to down. they were all shaken espresso recipies. there was also some cinnamon spilled out and three different vanilla syrrup's next to it.
"i was making one each day, practising. and kind of hoping that the smell summon you, lol" he said awkwardly, noticing yeonjun's look on the table.
"i'm so sorry i'm such a fucking loser. do me the espresso."
and after beomgyu showed off his newly gained skills, they went upstairs, to choi's room. it was rather small, the walls were brown, but were full of posters. they were all conected to music, there was a guitar laying on the ground, a lot of notes papers on the desk. he also had pictures of new york on his walls, some of them taken with him in the frame, and some just showing the panorama. his room represented the yearning for the life he was painfully ragged from.
"sorry for the mess, i kind of gave up on waiting for you" he said, trying to pick up the laying clothes. "you told me the last time you want to make music, and i guess we should. something to look forward to when you leave"
it felt like their time was limited, like one of them was dying, like it was their last days. or maybe it was even worse, as yeonjun will always know that beomgyu is stuck here, with no way out. and he will always yearn for him, cursing himself for letting him stay. yeonjun inhaled loudly, his throat tightening. he sat down and picked up the guitar, looking at it. this was rather an old instrument, which made him even more sad, because it was rusty, like everything was limiting beomgyu.
"alright. pick the paper and pen. what would you like to make? like, what type of music?"
"nostalgic" he said without giving it a second thought.
"okay. think of a phrase, the opening for the song" he ordered him, trying to fix the guitar, using his knowledge in this department.
"you're putting pressure on me! i can't think of it like this!"
"just say something, we will work around it. just say what you would like to hear or say to the void" yeonjun suggested, giving him a convincing smile.
beomgyu looked at him and sighed, looking for something inside his mind. even when he was focused, he was carrying this stoic look on his face, the angelic stare.
"alright. our love is the god i can't believe in" he said nonchalantly, like it was the most primitive phrase ever said.
"when you close your eyes, i want you to see me" yeonjun rhymed back to him. beomgyu was writing it down.
"i want to hide, so they wouldn't seek me."
"when you think of me, i want you to forgive me."
"i don't think you will ever need me."
the silence after the last words from beomgyu was painfully loud. they were staring at each other, but neither of them could move or say anything. yeonjun clenched his teeths, giving him a gloomy smile. he picked up the guitar from the ground and played one note on it. the sound was acceptable.
"can you teach me how to play it better?" beomgyu asked him politely, and yeonjun nodded instantly.
beomgyu picked up the guitar and placed it on his thighs, trying to get the notes they thought about. but something about it was uneasy for him, which made a frown appear on his face. yeonjun came over to him and placed his cold hands on his wrists. he was hitting the notes with his fingers, holding them softly. after a while of playing out just the notes, they began to look for the melody for their song. in the heat of the moment, beomgyu rested his head on yeonjun's shoulder, listening to the music played with his own hands, by yeonjun. he let go off one of his hands, and placed his own on beomgyu's thigh. he was rubbing it softly, as he was encouraging him to play.
"sing?" he murmured to beomgyu.
he picked up his head up and looked at the paper in between his legs. he cleared his throat and without a warning began to sing quietly. it was the most angelic, pure voice yeonjun had ever, ever heard. he was almost murmuring the words they had written down, adding so much emotions and passion to it, yeonjun really felt like crying. he asked him to repeat it like ten times, unable to get enough of his voice. for the last time, he recorded the singing, laughingly saying that he will play it everyday before going to sleep.
"i'm leaving tomorrow's morning. the train will get there. i got the letter yesterday" yeonjun said out of blue.
but beomgyu took the message with grace, as if he was already expecting this outcome. he nodded and put the guitar down, looking at him softly. he wasn't even asking for unlimited time, he tried to be grateful for the little two days they got. he knew that yeonjun would have to leave, and he would have to do it without him.
"yeah, so you should probably get going soon. but you have the recording" he smiled, but his eyes were sad.
"is there any way i can contact you? i tried to look for you on social medias, but you're just not there. a phone number, anything?"
"not really, the internet here is shitty. you can send letters. but they are going to get delivered for like three months, so by the time you sent one i can possibly be dead or something. but yeah, you can send letters" he suggested after a second of silence.
"are you really not going to leave?" yeonjun asked; knowing the answer.
"no, not really. but when you order a shaken espresso, you might think about me time to time" beomgyu laughed.
"i will never order a shaken espresso again in my life, i think i would just burst out in tears in the coffeeshop, lol."
beomgyu walked him to the doors. they both stood there for a while, but finally, they knew that yeonjun has to go. no matter how long he will stand here like a loser. beomgyu gave him a firm, soft hug, which was tightened by jun. he grabbed by his hair, stroking it softly. he smelled him, and he was a walking coffee. and now a walking cinnamon too.
"thank you for everything. when you walk to the central park, think about me, alright? don't you dare just forget about our friendship. i think, friendship" beomgyu smiled, even though he was breaking down.
"yeah, i will. i really hope you can get out of there, beomgyu. think about yourself, once. i will give you my number anyway, once you get out, please, please, please, call me" yeonjun said, as their final goodbye.
and when the doors closed after him, beomgyu bursted out with tears, so painfully hot on his cheeks, he felt like dying.
with the blink of an eye, yeonjun was standing on the train station, next to the other man who travelled with him the last time. tears were streaming down his face, even though he should be happy to leave. he would be more than happy to leave, if it all didn't happened. he wondered, if there was any reason for letting it happen, if they both knew the ending.
and with another blink of an eye, yeonjun was running away from the train station, all his luggage left with the other man. he was running to the coffeeshop like his life depended on it, because this time, it really did. he was totally out of breath the moment he entered the place, almost choking by his own saliva. beomgyu looked at him dumbfounded, cleaning the mug, just like the first time he had seen him. before he could even ask him anything, yeonjun was next to him, behind the counter.
"beomgyu, for the love of god, go with me."
beomgyu opened his mouth, but said nothing. yeonjun looked at him with begging eyes, still, painfully out of breath. and this time, without waiting for anything, he grabbed his face and kissed him;
the kiss was rather agressive in it's own act, but it was soft and fragile at the same time. yeonjun was holding on his cheeks with his cold hands, not letting him go, no matter how hard he would be fighting for it. but it didn't happen. beomgyu returned the kiss, putting his hands on his shoulders. he held on his hoodie, grabbing it with his fingers so hard, he would rip the material if yeonjun moved an inch. they deepened the kiss, and their tongues met, yearning for one another.
and when they pulled away, beomgyu just broke down in tears, hiding his face in yeonjun's hoodie. he was crying histerically, breathing out loud to catch a breath, his whole body shaking. yeonjun wrapped him around with his arms, softly stroking his hair.
"i really thought you wouldn't ask me" he murmured, crying so loud it was hard to even understand him.
"i'm so stupid, i'm so fucking stupid. alright, you have five minutes. take everything you need, we need to run for the train. like run, run. like we should've been already running for like three minutes actually."
so did he, beomgyu grabbed any clothes he could find on his floor and some other things that just came to his hands. and they ran. ran so fast the only thing holding them together was their hands. and when they arrived, the man was already getting in the train. he waved at their sight, pointing at yeonjun's luggage.
and as they were getting away from beomgyu's home, he realised, that it was never a home. his home was sitting next to him, holding his hand do dearly, like beomgyu would just open the window and jump back to that damn cursed coffeeshop. and a person or two could consider beomgyu as crazy to leave everything for a boy that he met twice, but at that moment, he felt certain about something for the first time in his life.
and years later, in central park, they would be recalling those memories to their friends they shared. they would either laugh, or make a genuine face, or cry when yeonjun was explaining how beomgyu cried in his arms, shedding a tear or two too. later on, beomgyu would be walking to his work, his dear coffeeshop named "shaken". the place would gain popularity not only for their amazing, outstanding shaken espresso, but also due to the fact that the owner was choi beomgyu.
choi beomgyu, the rising star of emotional hardcore music, one of the best in his league. and due to the fact that his boyfriend happened to be choi yeonjun, even a bigger star of music. no one never knew where beomgyu came from, or how they even connected, as they kept it to themselfs. after they published the song called "hide and seek", they would be speculated to be together. and after the soft confirmation, they would become a harbor for queer youth, seeing themselfs in them. they would be laying on the floor in their apartment, creating new music. yeonjun didn't have to teach beomgyu the guitar anymore, but he still playfully played with his fingers. later on beomgyu will send a long letter to their grandparents, explaining and apologising for his actions. and three months later there would be an answer in the mail.
"be happy, beomgyunnie" they would say.
beomgyu, even though he was gaining a lot of money and popularity, would be waking up at seven o'clock and go to shaken to fulfill his job as a barista. he would be chitchatting with clients, a ton of them. he would be kept busy for the whole day, occasionaly visited by his boyfriend. when he was entering, he wasn't as breathless as before, as scared. he would bring beomgyu flowers and smile, kissing him from the other side of the counter.
"you're the most beautiful person i have ever seen, can i have your number?" he would joke, looking at the menu he composed with beomgyu himself.
"no, but you can spare me a kiss?"
and so did he, yeonjun would give a little peek on his soft, angelic lips and smile just as he was really seeing him for the first time. he would sit at a table that had a heater next to it, and would be served with a so known shaken espresso with an once of vanilla syrrup and a tad of cinnamon. and the server would always turn out to be ridiculously hot, as it was always him.
and each time yeonjun would come to a realisation, that it had always been him. and it will always be him.