Archive of Our Own

The bell above the café door chimed, and Daeyoung didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. He heard the sound of polished leather loafers clicking against the floor, the same sound that had begun to haunt his afternoons over the past two months.

Riku always showed up in the evening, just as Daeyoung started his shift after school. Sometimes he came with his friends. Those were the evenings Daeyoung dreaded most. The way they laughed and whispered while Riku flirted, their eyes darting to Daeyoung like he was some kind of entertainment, always made him feel small. He could never shake the unease of being the center of their attention.

Other times, he came alone, which, strangely, wasn’t much better. Daeyoung had quickly learned that Riku alone was just as persistent—and just as annoying—as when he had an audience.

Today, Riku was alone.

“Good evening, Daeyoung,” Riku greeted, his voice far too cheerful as he approached the counter. His school uniform, crisp and perfect, stood out against the casual attire of the café’s usual customers. He leaned against the counter like he had all the time in the world, his bright smile firmly in place.

Daeyoung didn’t bother to hide his sigh. “Good evening. The usual?”

“You know me so well,” Riku replied with a grin that made Daeyoung’s skin prickle. “It’s like we’re meant to be.”

“Right.” Daeyoung grabbed the ice scoop, already tuning him out.

“Don’t you think it’s fate that I always end up here during your shift?” Riku continued, undeterred. “I mean, what are the odds?”

“Pretty good, considering you know my schedule,” Daeyoung muttered under his breath.

Riku laughed, completely unbothered. “You caught me. I just think this place has the best vibes in the evening. Don’t you agree?”

Daeyoung slid the iced Americano across the counter without meeting Riku’s eyes. “Here.”

Riku’s fingers brushed Daeyoung’s as he took the cup, and Daeyoung immediately pulled back.

“Thanks, Daeyoung,” Riku said, his tone sweet and playful. “You’re amazing.”

Daeyoung grabbed a rag and walked to the nearest table, pretending to be busy. But of course, Riku followed him, settling into the chair closest to where Daeyoung was cleaning.

“Rough day at school?” Riku asked, leaning his chin on his hand as he watched Daeyoung.

Daeyoung didn’t answer right away. He wiped the table with sharp, purposeful movements. “It’s fine.”

“You’re so hardworking,” Riku said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s honestly inspiring.”

Daeyoung stopped and straightened, his expression flat. “You’re annoying.”

Riku’s grin widened, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Yet you’re still talking to me.”

Daeyoung opened his mouth to reply but decided against it, turning back to his cleaning instead. But he could feel Riku’s eyes on him, and it made his skin crawl.

Riku leaned back in his chair, sipping his drink like he had no care in the world. “Don’t miss me too much when you’re running around,” he teased, his tone light but pointed.

Daeyoung clenched his jaw and moved to another table, determined to ignore him. But even as he worked, Riku’s persistent presence lingered like a shadow, and Daeyoung knew he’d be stuck with him for hours.

The café buzzed softly with the evening crowd, the sound of chatter and the occasional clink of glasses filling the air. Riku and his friends occupied their usual corner booth, laughing and joking, their expensive watches gleaming under the warm lights. Daeyoung was in the back, sorting inventory, relieved to be away from the front for a bit.

Out front, Daeyoung’s little brother, Taeyoung, fidgeted in a chair near the counter. He was a lively boy, no older than ten, and had been left under Daeyoung’s care because their mother was working a late-night shift. Taeyoung hated being alone at home, so Daeyoung had reluctantly let him tag along to the café.

“Don’t wander around, okay? Stay put,” Daeyoung had told him before heading to the back.

But Taeyoung was too curious and restless to sit still. With his oversized backpack swinging behind him, he stood up to look at the pastry display. As he turned, his backpack accidentally nudged a customer’s table. The drink on the table wobbled precariously before tipping over, spilling its contents all over the man’s open laptop.

The customer, a middle-aged man in a suit, shot up from his seat with a loud, angry yell. “What the hell is this?! Do you know what you’ve done, you brat?”

Taeyoung froze, his eyes wide with panic as the man loomed over him. “I—I’m sorry!” he stammered, tears welling up.

The man’s voice grew louder. “Sorry? Do you think that’s going to fix my laptop? Do you have any idea how much I just lost because of this?”

Daeyoung’s coworker rushed over, alarmed by the commotion. “Sir, please calm down—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” the man snapped. “This is a professional device! It’s ruined! Who’s going to pay for this?”

Hearing the shouting, Riku and his friends turned their heads. They exchanged glances but didn’t intervene, their usual laughter fading as they watched the scene unfold.

The coworker, flustered, called out, “Daeyoung! Come out here, quick!”

Daeyoung hurried out from the back, his heart sinking when he saw Taeyoung standing frozen in front of the furious man. “What happened?” he asked, rushing to his brother’s side.

“This kid spilled a drink on my laptop!” the man yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Taeyoung. “Do you know how much data I just lost? This is going to cost me thousands!”

Daeyoung bowed deeply, his voice shaking. “I’m so sorry, sir. It was an accident. My brother didn’t mean to—”

“An accident doesn’t fix my laptop!” the man cut him off. “Are you going to pay for it? What about all the losses I’ve just incurred because of your brother?”

Daeyoung’s face paled. “I—I can’t afford to pay for all of that right now. I’ll try my best to compensate, but—”

The man’s face twisted with rage. “You’re saying you can’t pay? What kind of family are you running here? You can’t even control your brother! Maybe both of you need a beating to learn your lesson!”

At that, Riku’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood up. His friends looked at him in surprise as he strode over to the scene.

“That’s enough,” Riku said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension.

The man turned to him, startled. “Who are you to get involved?”

“A customer who doesn’t appreciate watching someone scream at a kid and threaten violence,” Riku replied coldly. He pulled out his phone. “How much do you need for the laptop and the data recovery? I’ll transfer the money right now.”

Daeyoung stared at him in shock. “Riku, no. You don’t have to—”

Riku held up a hand, silencing him. “It’s fine. Just tell me the amount.”

The man blinked, surprised by Riku's confidence. Then he said a number that even Riku thought was too exaggerated.

Riku nodded and began typing on his phone. “Done. You’ll see the money in your account soon. Now, I suggest you leave before I call someone to report your behavior.”

The man grumbled, clearly embarrassed by the crowd’s attention, but he checked his phone and confirmed the transfer. Without another word, he grabbed his ruined laptop and stormed out of the café.

Daeyoung’s workmate placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You should thank him,” he whispered, motioning toward Riku. “He just saved you a lot of trouble.”

Daeyoung turned to Riku, his face a mix of gratitude and shame. “I… I don’t even know what to say. Thank you, but I really didn’t want you to get involved like this.”

Riku shrugged, his usual smug grin returning. “It’s no big deal. Consider it a favor.”

Daeyoung clenched his fists, unsure how to feel, but Taeyoung clung to his side, his small voice breaking the silence. “Thank you, hyung.”

Riku crouched down to Taeyoung’s level, ruffling the boy’s hair. “You’re welcome. Just be careful next time, okay?”

As Riku walked back to his table, his friends looked at him in awe. “Did you really just pay for that guy’s laptop?” one of them, Sion, asked.

Riku shrugged, picking up his drink. “What can I say? I couldn’t let something like that slide.”

Daeyoung, still reeling from what had just happened, watched Riku with a conflicted expression.

After the commotion died down and the café returned to its usual hum of activity, Daeyoung crouched down to Taeyoung’s level in the corner. The boy was still sniffling, clutching the straps of his oversized backpack like it was a lifeline.

“Taeyoung,” Daeyoung said gently but firmly, “I need you to go sit in the inventory room, okay? Stay there until I’m done. Don’t wander around again.”

Taeyoung nodded, his lips trembling. “I’m sorry, hyung…”

“I know,” Daeyoung said, brushing a hand through his little brother’s hair. “But stay put this time. Okay?”

With one last sniffle, Taeyoung headed to the back. Once Daeyoung made sure he was settled, he wiped his hands on his apron and walked toward Riku’s table. His expression was serious, his usual air of calm professionalism now tinged with discomfort.

Riku and his friends noticed his approach, and for once, they didn’t tease or smirk. Something about Daeyoung’s demeanor told them to keep their usual comments to themselves. Riku set his drink down, leaning forward slightly.

“What’s up?” Riku asked casually, though there was a hint of curiosity in his tone.

Daeyoung hesitated for a moment, glancing at Riku’s friends. “Can I talk to you outside? Just you.”

Riku raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest. “Sure.”

As Riku followed him out of the café, his friends exchanged curious glances but stayed put. Outside, the cool evening air wrapped around them, and the usual street noise filled the silence. Daeyoung turned to face Riku, bowing his head slightly.

“Thank you again,” Daeyoung began, his voice steady but firm. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you did in there.”

Riku shrugged, his hands in his pockets. “I told you, it’s no big deal. You don’t need to—”

“No,” Daeyoung interrupted, lifting his head to meet Riku’s eyes. “It is a big deal. And I can’t just let it go like this. I need your phone number and your bank account details.”

Riku blinked, surprised. “Why?”

“So I can pay you back,” Daeyoung said firmly. “I know it’s a lot of money, but it’s my responsibility. Taeyoung is my brother, and I should’ve been more careful with him. It’s my fault.”

Riku tilted his head, studying Daeyoung’s resolute expression. “You really don’t have to. I mean, I’ve spent that much on my own laptop last year. It’s not like it’ll break the bank.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Daeyoung said, his tone unwavering. “I need to pay you back. I can’t do it all at once, though. I’ll have to pay in monthly installments, and it might take a year—maybe more. I have other expenses, so…”

Riku frowned, looking like he wanted to argue further, but something in Daeyoung’s voice stopped him. He realized this wasn’t just about the money for Daeyoung—it was about his pride, his sense of responsibility.

“You’re really set on this, aren’t you?” Riku said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Daeyoung nodded. “I am.”

Riku sighed, pulling out his phone. “Alright, fine. I’ll text you my bank details.”

Daeyoung nodded again, his expression softening slightly as he handed over his own number. “Thank you. I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

“It’s fine,” Riku replied as he typed on his phone. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal for me. Besides, I couldn’t just sit there and let that guy act like that. You didn’t deserve it. And your brother definitely didn’t deserve it.”

Daeyoung glanced down, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Still. Thank you.”

Riku handed his phone back after saving Daeyoung’s number. “I’ll text you the details. But don’t stress yourself too much about it, okay? Take your time.”

Daeyoung nodded, as they headed back inside, Daeyoung couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of shame and gratitude for the boy who usually annoyed him.

Over the following weeks, the air between Daeyoung and Riku began to shift.

Riku still came to the café during Daeyoung’s shift, as he always did, often with his friends in tow or sometimes by himself. But things weren’t quite the same. Daeyoung, who would usually roll his eyes, mutter sarcastic replies, or outright tell Riku to leave him alone, had softened. Whenever Riku teased him or threw a playful flirt his way, Daeyoung no longer snapped back or looked annoyed. Instead, he would give a polite, almost reserved smile before moving on with his work.

It was subtle at first, but Riku noticed right away.

“Wow, you’re working so hard, Daeyoung. You make it look so attractive,” Riku had said one evening, his usual smug grin plastered on his face.

Normally, Daeyoung would have groaned or snapped, “Get a life,” before walking away. But this time, he simply glanced at Riku and offered a small, respectful smile.

“Thank you,” Daeyoung replied, his tone calm and even, before heading to wipe down another table.

Riku blinked, momentarily thrown off. “What… just happened?” he muttered to himself.

The pattern repeated every time. Riku would try to coax a reaction out of Daeyoung—anything resembling the banter they used to have—but all he got were polite smiles and professional replies. At first, he thought it was a fluke, but the more it happened, the more awkward it felt.

Riku didn’t like it.

Sure, seeing Daeyoung smile at him was nice—better than the frowns and glares, if he were being honest. But the reason behind the change gnawed at him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Daeyoung’s sudden politeness was because of the money. It made him feel… weird. Like Daeyoung no longer saw him as the annoying, persistent customer but as someone to tread lightly around.

One afternoon, after the café had emptied out a bit, Riku couldn’t hold it in any longer. He waited until Daeyoung passed by his table with an empty tray, then called out.

“Hey, Daeyoung.”

Daeyoung turned, his polite smile already in place. “Yes?”

“Can we talk?” Riku asked, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Just for a second. You can spare a second, right?”

Daeyoung hesitated but nodded, setting the tray aside before taking the seat. “What is it?”

Riku leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Okay, I need to ask. Why are you being so… nice to me lately?”

Daeyoung blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Riku said, his tone unusually serious. “You’re not rolling your eyes. You’re not telling me I’m annoying. You’re not… you anymore.” He paused, searching Daeyoung’s expression. “Is it because of the money?”

Daeyoung stiffened slightly, looking away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Riku sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Daeyoung, come on. I don’t want things to change between us just because of that. I didn’t help you so you’d feel like you owe me, or like you have to treat me differently. I helped you because it was the right thing to do. That’s it.”

Daeyoung remained quiet, his hands resting awkwardly on his lap.

Riku softened his voice, trying again. “Look, I don’t want you to smile at me because you feel obligated to. I liked how things were before. I mean, yeah, you were always annoyed with me, but at least it felt real. This? This feels… fake.”

Daeyoung’s lips pressed into a thin line as he mulled over Riku’s words. Finally, he let out a quiet sigh. “I just… I feel like I should be more respectful. You didn’t have to help me, but you did. And now I feel like…”

“Like you owe me?” Riku finished for him. “You don’t. Seriously, Daeyoung, you don’t owe me anything. I mean it.”

Daeyoung looked at him then, his usual sharp gaze softening. “Still, I can’t help feeling like I need to.”

Riku shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Well, don’t. I’d rather you roll your eyes and call me annoying than give me that weird polite smile. It freaks me out.”

For the first time since they met, Daeyoung let out a quiet laugh because of what riku said “It freaks you out?”

“Yes,” Riku said, leaning forward again with a grin. “So please, go back to treating me like the rich, annoying customer who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

Daeyoung smirked, the faintest hint of his old self returning. “You are a rich, annoying customer who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

“There it is,” Riku said triumphantly, leaning back in his chair. “Welcome back.”

Daeyoung rolled his eyes, but this time, it felt lighter. He stood, grabbing his tray. “You’re impossible.”

“And you missed it,” Riku called after him, his grin widening as he watched Daeyoung walk away. Finally he felt like things were back to normal—well, almost normal.

Because no matter what, Riku knew he’d still catch himself watching Daeyoung a little too long, wishing for those moments when Daeyoung’s smile wasn’t polite, but real.

Things slowly began to feel normal again—or at least, a new version of normal. Riku kept up his usual routine of showing up at the café during Daeyoung’s shift, lounging in his favorite corner seat and throwing out his usual flirty remarks. But Daeyoung’s responses were no longer the annoyed frowns and sarcastic snaps that Riku had come to expect in the beginning, nor were they the overly polite, reserved smiles that had briefly taken over after the incident with Taeyoung.

Now, Daeyoung’s responses felt… natural. Genuine.

Sometimes, they even veered into playful territory, and it was those moments that made Riku’s heart skip in a way he wasn’t entirely prepared for.

One evening, as Daeyoung passed by Riku’s table with a tray of empty glasses, Riku leaned back in his chair, his signature grin in place.

“You know,” Riku began, his tone light, “you really brighten up this place. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a café worker look as good as you.”

Daeyoung slowed, turning to face him, one eyebrow raised. “Are you sure that’s not just the reflection from your overpriced watch making everything look brighter?”

Riku blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before letting out a laugh. “Touché. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re still the highlight of my day.”

Daeyoung laughed, shaking his head as he walked away. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” Riku called after him, his grin widening when Daeyoung turned and shot him a playful glare.

It was these small exchanges that had become their new normal. Daeyoung wasn’t holding back anymore, but he wasn’t pushing Riku away, either. Sometimes, their conversations even stretched beyond the usual teasing and banter. Riku started learning little things about Daeyoung—how he liked his coffee black, how he always tapped the side of a cup twice before pouring anything into it; how he worked this job not just to help his family but because he wanted to save for university fees.

It was during one of these moments that Riku felt his chest tighten unexpectedly.

It was a quiet evening, the café mostly empty except for a couple of regulars. Riku was sitting at his usual spot, watching as Daeyoung meticulously wiped down the counter. Without thinking, he spoke up.

“You work too hard, you know that?”

Daeyoung glanced at him, amused. “And you come here too often, you know that?”

“I can’t help it,” Riku said with a dramatic sigh. “Where else am I supposed to get quality entertainment?”

“Quality entertainment?” Daeyoung repeated, setting down his cloth and crossing his arms. “If you think watching me work is entertainment, you seriously need better hobbies.”

Riku shrugged, his grin softening into something more sincere. “Maybe I just like being here.”

For a moment, Daeyoung didn’t respond, his gaze holding Riku’s. Then, he smiled , picking up his cloth again. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly charming,” Riku corrected, earning a quiet laugh from Daeyoung as he returned to his cleaning.

The playful banter continued as the days went by, and Riku found himself looking forward to his evenings at the café more than ever. But the more they talked, the more he realized something had changed—not just in Daeyoung, but in himself. Every time Daeyoung smiled, every time his sharp words softened into something warmer, Riku’s heart skipped in a way he couldn’t ignore.

And while Daeyoung might have dismissed him as hopeless, Riku couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—there was hope for him after all.

Two months had passed since the incident at the café, and though life had mostly returned to normal, the lingering threads of that night still tied Daeyoung and Riku together. Daeyoung kept his word, sending Riku monthly installments of the money he owed. Every time Riku received the notification of the transfer, he felt a pang of discomfort.

He didn’t need the money, and he knew Daeyoung needed it more than he did. Riku had even tried to tell him to stop after he received it the first time, but Daeyoung’s determination was unshakable. “It’s my responsibility,” Daeyoung would say firmly, and Riku could only sigh and let it go.

Despite the awkwardness of the payments, their interactions continued to grow. Texting had become a surprising addition to their dynamic, though, as expected, Riku was usually the one to initiate.

“Hey, I’m not coming to the café tonight,” Riku would text, followed by something casual like, “Don’t miss me too much.”

Daeyoung’s replies were always brief but kind. “Noted. Have a good evening.”

It wasn’t much, but Riku still found himself grinning at his phone whenever Daeyoung responded. He couldn’t help it—there was something about the way Daeyoung’s words, even through text, felt so grounded and real.

The only time Daeyoung ever texted first was to notify Riku about the monthly transfers. “I’ve sent this month’s payment. Please check.”

Riku hated those texts. Not because they were from Daeyoung—he liked hearing from him, even if it was for something as dry as money—but because they reminded him of the imbalance between them. He didn’t want Daeyoung to feel indebted. Yet, despite the unease, he never ignored the messages. He’d reply quickly, always thanking Daeyoung, even if it felt wrong.

In person, things were even better. When Riku showed up at the café, Daeyoung greeted him with a warmth that wasn’t there before. There was no more guarded annoyance, no curt responses. Sometimes, Riku even thought Daeyoung was flirting back.

The café was bustling as usual, but Riku barely noticed the other customers. His focus, as always, was on Daeyoung, who was busy working behind the counter. Riku’s drink had just been set down in front of him, and he was waiting for the perfect moment to pull Daeyoung into another one of their exchanges.

When Daeyoung finally walked past his table, Riku leaned back in his chair, tapping the side of his cup. “You know, you bring me this drink like you’re trying to impress me.”

Daeyoung paused mid-step, glancing down at him with an arched eyebrow. “Trying to impress you? You’re delusional.”

Riku grinned, undeterred. “Come on, admit it. I’m your favorite customer.”

“You mean the most annoying one?” Daeyoung shot back, but there was no bite in his tone—only the faintest hint of amusement.

“Annoying, huh?” Riku leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “And yet, here you are, still serving me with a smile.”

Daeyoung rolled his eyes, but his lips curved into a small smirk. “It’s called customer service. You’d know that if you ever worked a day in your life.”

“Ouch,” Riku said, clutching his chest dramatically. “Why do you assume I’ve never worked? Maybe I have hidden depths.”

Daeyoung crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one leg as he gave Riku an unimpressed look. “Hidden depths? The only thing I’ve seen you do is sip iced Americanos and find new ways to bother me.”

Riku chuckled. “Hey, bothering you is hard work. And it’s rewarding. I mean, just look at you—you’re smiling.”

Daeyoung’s smile widened slightly, though he quickly tried to suppress it. “That’s not because of you. I smile at everyone.”

“Not like that,” Riku teased. “That smile was just for me.”

Daeyoung shook his head, but there was a faint blush creeping up his neck. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” Riku quipped, leaning back in his chair. “Admit it. I’m growing on you.”

Daeyoung pretended to think about it, tilting his head to the side. “Hmm. Like a fungus, maybe.”

Riku laughed, the sound genuine and warm, drawing the attention of a couple of nearby customers. “You’re getting good at this. I might have to start charging you for the lessons.”

“Lessons?” Daeyoung scoffed, a hint of incredulity in his voice. “What lessons?”

“On how to flirt,” Riku said with a wink. “You’re practically a natural now.”

Daeyoung gave him a flat look, though his lips twitched like he was holding back another smile. “If that’s your idea of flirting, I feel bad for anyone you’ve ever dated.”

“Who says I’m not flirting successfully right now?” Riku shot back, his grin widening.

Daeyoung let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Keep dreaming, Riku.”

Riku propped his chin on his hand, watching Daeyoung as he picked up a tray of empty glasses from the neighboring table. “I will. Don’t worry, you’ll star in all of them.”

That earned him a genuine laugh, one that made Riku’s chest feel unexpectedly tight. Daeyoung glanced at him over his shoulder as he headed back to the counter.

“You’re ridiculous,” Daeyoung said, his tone lighter than before.

“And you’re finally starting to appreciate it,” Riku replied, his voice carrying just enough warmth to make Daeyoung glance back again, though he didn’t respond this time.

As Daeyoung busied himself behind the counter, Riku found himself smiling like an idiot. For the rest of the evening, his drink tasted just a little sweeter.

Late that night, after the café had closed and Riku was back home, he found himself staring at his phone. He opened his chat with Daeyoung, hesitated, then typed a quick message.

Riku: “Hey, did you miss me today? 😏”

He almost regretted sending it, but then Daeyoung replied within a few minutes.

Daeyoung: “Miss you? I’ve been too busy working to think about you.”

Riku grinned, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

Riku: “That’s not a no. 😌”

Daeyoung: “Go to sleep, Riku.”

Even as he read the reply, Riku could picture Daeyoung’s amused smile. And that was enough to make him smile.

The first time Daeyoung saw Riku, he had barely given him more than a passing glance. It was the middle of a busy shift, the café was filled with the usual after-school customers, and he was too focused on making drinks to care about another high schooler waltzing in.

But then Riku had stepped up to the counter, and Daeyoung had looked at him—really looked.

What a pretty guy, he had thought absentmindedly. Pretty and obviously rich. The uniform alone spoke volumes, the emblem of an elite school stitched neatly onto the pristine blazer. The way Riku carried himself—confident, casual, like he had never had to rush for anything in his life—made it clear that he had grown up in an entirely different world than Daeyoung.

Daeyoung didn’t resent him for it. He had long accepted that life wasn’t fair. Some people were born into privilege, and some—like him—had to work part-time jobs after school just to make ends meet. That was just how things were.

But then Riku started talking.

It had started as small remarks—friendly at first. “Iced Americano, please. Do you make it better than the other baristas?” He had smiled, and Daeyoung had just nodded, uninterested. But then, Riku kept coming back. Every evening, like clockwork. Sometimes alone, sometimes with his friends. And after a while, his words started shifting from casual conversation to outright teasing.

“You’re always so serious, Daeyoung. I bet you’d be even better-looking if you smiled more.”

The first time he had said that, Daeyoung had frozen mid-pour, staring at Riku in disbelief before muttering under his breath, What the hell is wrong with this guy?

The second time, Daeyoung had glared at him. “Do you always bother the staff like this?”

“Nope. Just you,” Riku had said, flashing that signature smug grin.

And that was the moment Riku’s lucky, rich, pretty boy image started to shatter.

At first, Daeyoung had been convinced that Riku was just bored. That he was just another privileged kid looking for some cheap amusement, probably making bets with his equally rich friends about how long it would take to get under Daeyoung’s skin. And truth be told, Riku did get under his skin. Every time Riku leaned on the counter like he belonged there, every time he threw out another ridiculous flirt, every time he smirked like he knew exactly what he was doing—it annoyed Daeyoung to no end.

So why did he keep coming back?

Daeyoung hadn’t thought too deeply about it—until the accident happened.

That night had been one of the worst in Daeyoung’s life. The second he had heard that man yelling at Taeyoung, his stomach had dropped. When he had rushed out from the back and seen his little brother’s terrified face, he had felt a wave of panic and anger so strong it had nearly choked him. He had bowed, apologized, swallowed his pride, knowing full well he couldn’t afford to pay for the damages. He had never felt so helpless before.

And then Riku had stepped in.

Daeyoung could still remember the way Riku’s voice had cut through the tension, firm and unwavering. “That’s enough.” And then, “I’ll pay for the damages.”

At that moment, Riku hadn’t been annoying. He hadn’t been smug. He had just been there, standing between Daeyoung and a man who was trying to take more than he could give. And Daeyoung, hadn’t known how to respond.

After that, everything had changed.

Daeyoung had made a resolution—to be polite, to be grateful. To treat Riku with the respect he deserved after what he had done. But when Riku had confronted him, had asked him outright why he was suddenly acting different, Daeyoung had felt something unfamiliar creep into his chest. Guilt.

Because Riku had been right. He had helped Daeyoung not because he wanted anything in return, but because it was simply the right thing to do. And Daeyoung had made him uncomfortable by treating him like something he wasn’t—someone to be tiptoed around.

So, Daeyoung changed his approach. He told himself to act normal. Like Riku was just a friend.

And that’s when the real problem started.

Because when Daeyoung let himself relax, when he let himself respond to Riku the way he naturally wanted to, he started seeing him differently.

The flirting, which had once been an unbearable source of irritation, now made him laugh. The playful banter, which had once made him roll his eyes, now made his shifts pass faster. He started noticing things again—things he had ignored before.

Like how Riku’s hair fell perfectly even when he was leaning lazily against the counter. How his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled—a real smile, not the cocky smirk. How his voice had a way of latching onto Daeyoung’s brain, so that even on the nights Riku didn’t come, Daeyoung still expected to hear him.

One evening, as he set Riku’s usual drink down, he was caught off guard when Riku spoke.

“You know,” Riku said, tilting his head. “I think you’re starting to like me.”

Daeyoung scoffed. “What makes you think that?”

“You actually laugh at my jokes now,” Riku pointed out. “A few months ago, I thought you were going to murder me every time I said something. But now? Now you wait for me to say something just so you can fire back.”

Daeyoung shook his head. “I just got used to you. Like background noise.”

Riku grinned. “Ah, so you admit I’m a constant in your life now?”

Daeyoung felt his face heat up. “That’s not what I—”

“Say it, Daeyoung,” Riku teased. “Say ‘Riku, I would be lost without your presence at the café.’”

Daeyoung let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “I would rather quit my job.”

Riku gasped dramatically. “You wound me.”

“You’ll survive,” Daeyoung shot back, but there was no bite to his words.

Because the truth was, he was enjoying this. Enjoying him.

As Riku went back to his table, Daeyoung lingered behind the counter for a moment longer than necessary, watching him.

He let himself acknowledge it again—Riku really did have have a pretty face.

And the worst part?

Daeyoung didn’t mind looking at it anymore.

Time had a way of moving strangely whenever Riku and Daeyoung were together. What had once been a dynamic of teasing and banter had now shifted into something easier, more natural—like they had always been like this, like their conversations had always been this comfortable.

Their texts, which used to be one-sided with Riku always initiating, had become routine. Now, Daeyoung messaged him too, sometimes to complain about a difficult customer, sometimes to share something random, and other times just to check in.

Daeyoung: Break time. I swear if one more person orders a complicated custom drink when we’re busy, I’m quitting.
Riku: Please don’t. What would I do without my favorite barista?
Daeyoung: Hire a personal one, obviously.
Riku: But then I wouldn’t get to see you, and that’s the best part.
Daeyoung: Smooth.
Riku: I try.

Their conversations never felt forced. When Riku wasn’t at the café, they talked through messages, but when he was there, time seemed to slip away from them entirely.

One evening, Riku had stopped by after school, like usual, and as always, he went straight to the counter where Daeyoung was preparing drinks. What started as a simple exchange turned into a full-blown conversation, and before Daeyoung realized it, nearly fifteen minutes had passed—fifteen minutes where he had completely forgotten about everything else.

“Daeyoung!” his coworker called from the other side of the counter, snapping him out of it. “Customers are waiting!”

Daeyoung blinked, momentarily disoriented. He looked over at the long line of waiting customers, his stomach dropping. “Shit.”

Riku, who had been laughing at something Daeyoung had said just moments ago, grinned. “Wow. I must be really interesting if you forgot about your job.”

Daeyoung shot him a look before grabbing a cup and getting back to work, but the warmth in his chest lingered.

Their conversations weren’t just about playful teasing anymore. Riku had finally started to learn more about Daeyoung—not just surface-level things, but real things.

He learned that Daeyoung went to a local public school not too far from the café. That he lived with his mother and younger brother, Taeyoung. That his father had passed away when he was younger.

Daeyoung never talked about it in detail, but Riku could tell the topic was heavy just by the way his expression hardened slightly whenever he mentioned it.

Riku also found out just how smart Daeyoung was. He had gotten scholarships to help pay for school, and despite working multiple jobs, his grades were still at the top of his class.

“What’s your other job?” Riku had asked one evening, genuinely curious.

“I tutor elementary school kids,” Daeyoung had replied, taking a sip from a cup of water before adding, “Mostly in math, sometimes English.”

“Wow,” Riku said, leaning his chin on his palm. “So not only are you good-looking, hardworking, and responsible, but you’re also smart? You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

Daeyoung snorted. “Maybe you should study harder instead of spending all your time at a café.”

“But if I did that, I wouldn’t get to see you,” Riku said, and this time, Daeyoung didn’t roll his eyes or brush it off. He simply smiled.

And that smile was what made Riku’s heart skip a beat.

Then, one night, during one of their quieter conversations, Riku had casually asked, “So… how many people have you dated?”

Daeyoung tilted his head slightly, considering the question before replying, “None.”

Riku blinked. “Wait. None? You’ve never dated anyone?”

“Nope,” Daeyoung said easily, resting his arms on the counter. “Didn’t have time. Between school, work, and taking care of Taeyoung, I never really thought about it.”

Riku didn’t know why, but hearing that made something inside him stir. He wasn’t sure what exactly, but it made him want something.

Something more.

It wasn’t just about liking Daeyoung anymore. It was about admiring him. Respecting him. And maybe, selfishly, wanting to be someone important to him.

“You’re amazing,” Riku said, his voice softer than usual.

Daeyoung looked at him, mildly surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “What’s with that face?”

Riku grinned, shaking off whatever moment of seriousness had just passed. “Just thinking about how lucky I am that I decided to come to this café months ago.”

Daeyoung gave him a look. “Pretty sure I’m the one who suffered because of that decision.”

Riku laughed. “You say that, but you still talk to me.”

“…Maybe I just got used to you,” Daeyoung said, taking a sip from his cup.

And Riku knew that wasn’t a confession. Not really. But it still made something warm and restless bloom inside of him.

Because Daeyoung was letting him in.

And Riku?

He never wanted to leave.

It had been a month since their relationship no longer felt one-sided—at least, not to Riku.

A month since Daeyoung had started texting him first, started lingering in conversations longer than necessary, started looking at him with something softer than tolerance. A month since Riku realized that what he felt wasn’t just a crush.

It was love.

And the more time he spent with Daeyoung, the more certain he became. Riku didn’t just like Daeyoung—he wanted to be with him. He wanted to be the person Daeyoung could rely on, not just someone he talked to in between making drinks at the café. He wanted to be his boyfriend.

So, he decided.

Now or never.

Tonight, he was going to confess.

Riku had been at the café since evening, staying longer than usual, keeping his usual spot in the corner while his friends left one by one. He had to wait.

Daeyoung always did the closing shift. It was a routine Riku had memorized by now. He stayed until midnight, wiping down the counters, putting away the ingredients, locking up. The café was always empty by then, just Daeyoung and one other staff member who usually left first.

Which meant that if Riku stayed long enough, it would just be the two of them.

And that was the perfect moment.

It was 11:45 PM when Daeyoung finally finished locking the front door, turning over the sign that said Closed. He sighed, stretching his arms behind his back, looking exhausted but satisfied.

And then he turned—and jumped.

“What the hell—Riku?”

Riku was still sitting in the same spot, arms crossed, looking at him with an amused expression.

“You forgot I was here, didn’t you?” Riku teased.

Daeyoung exhaled, shaking his head. “You stayed this late? Why? We closed fifteen minutes ago.”

“I was waiting for you,” Riku said, standing up and stretching. He took slow steps toward the counter, his heart already pounding.

Daeyoung raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

Riku took a deep breath. This was it.

“For you,” Riku said, meeting Daeyoung’s gaze directly. “I wanted to talk to you. Properly.”

Something in his tone made Daeyoung pause. His usual easy demeanor shifted slightly, and he leaned against the counter, his expression careful. “…Alright. What’s up?”

Riku swallowed. His fingers itched to fidget, but he forced himself to stay still. He had to look confident. He had to make Daeyoung understand exactly what he meant.

“I like you,” Riku said, voice steady. “A lot.”

Daeyoung blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. “I know. You flirt with me every day, Riku.”

Riku chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I mean—I really like you. More than just messing around, more than just teasing you at the café.” He exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I like you so much it’s actually driving me insane.”

Daeyoung’s lips parted slightly, his expression unreadable. “…Riku.”

Riku took another step forward, closing the distance between them until he was standing right in front of him. “I want to be your boyfriend, Daeyoung.”

Silence.

Riku could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. He was terrified.

Daeyoung had never dated before. He had so much on his plate already—work, school, his family. Maybe this was too much. Maybe he would say no. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way.

But then Daeyoung let out a soft laugh.

“…You’re really serious, huh?”

Riku smiled, but his voice was soft when he answered. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

Daeyoung looked at him for a long moment, searching his face, as if trying to decide something.

And then, finally, he sighed—not in frustration, not in annoyance, but in resignation.

“You’re not gonna stop liking me even if I say no, are you?” Daeyoung muttered.

Riku grinned. “Nope.”

Daeyoung clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re stalling,” Riku countered. “So what’s your answer?”

Daeyoung sighed again, but this time, he wasn’t avoiding the question. He was thinking. Seriously thinking.

Riku waited, holding his breath.

Then, finally, Daeyoung looked up and said, “…Okay.”

Riku’s stomach flipped.

“…Okay?” he repeated, just to make sure he heard right.

Daeyoung rolled his eyes, but there was a tiny smile at the corner of his lips. “Yes, okay. I’ll be your boyfriend, Riku.”

For a second, Riku just stared. Like his brain couldn’t process the words. Then, without thinking, he stepped forward and pulled Daeyoung into a hug.

Daeyoung stiffened slightly at first, caught off guard, but after a second, he relaxed.

Riku buried his face in Daeyoung’s shoulder, grinning like an idiot. “I will be the best boyfriend you ever had.”

Daeyoung huffed out a quiet laugh. “I don’t have anyone else to compare you to.”

Riku pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him. “Then I’ll make sure you don’t need to compare.”

Daeyoung stared at him for a moment before shaking his head with a small, fond smile. “You really are something else.”

“And you love it,” Riku teased.

Daeyoung sighed dramatically, but the way he lightly squeezed Riku’s arm told him everything he needed to know.

Maybe Daeyoung hadn’t planned on falling for him.

But now?

Riku was never letting him go.

They had only been dating for two months. It wasn’t long, but to Riku, it felt like they had already settled into something real, something unshakable. The teasing, the lingering conversations, the quiet moments where Daeyoung finally let his guard down—Riku cherished all of it. And even though Daeyoung wasn’t the most openly affectionate person, Riku could tell he was happy.

But two months was all it took for everything to fall apart.

The night had been normal—or at least, it had started that way.

The café was busy but manageable, and Daeyoung was doing his usual routine when a group of unfamiliar faces walked in.

Well—not entirely unfamiliar.

One of them was Riku’s friend, someone who had been at the café with him a few times. But the others? Daeyoung didn’t know them.

He only realized they were connected to Riku when one of them looked at him and said casually, “You’re Riku’s new boyfriend, right?”

Daeyoung hesitated, but he nodded politely. “Yeah.”

They didn’t say much after that. No teasing, no strange looks. Just a few curious glances before moving to a booth and placing their orders.

At first, Daeyoung brushed it off. Maybe they were just curious. Maybe it wasn’t anything worth thinking about.

But later that night, as Daeyoung was throwing out the trash with his coworker, he heard it.

The conversation that changed everything.

It started with laughter.

Daeyoung hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but as he walked past the alley behind the café, he recognized the voices. Riku’s friend group.

His steps slowed.

At first, they were just talking about random things, joking about their night, but then—

“Man, Riku really always gets what he wants, huh?”

Someone snorted. “No kidding. It’s kind of hilarious when you think about it.”

“Right? That barista used to hate him, and now look at them—dating. All because of the money.”

Daeyoung froze.

His coworker glanced at him, confused, but Daeyoung barely noticed.

Someone let out a low chuckle. “Riku’s got a kind heart, you know? He always picks up strays.”

A different voice chimed in, amused. “Yeah, but this is a first. He’s never actually dated one before.”

Another burst of laughter.

Daeyoung’s grip on the trash bag tightened.

“I mean, come on, he practically bought his way into Daeyoung’s life, didn’t he?”

A pause. Then—

A new voice, smoother but colder.

“If Riku is really obsessed with that boy, he’s probably making his money worth.”

Daeyoung’s breath caught.

A short silence, then someone laughed. “Exactly. It’s all fun for him now, but once he gets bored?”

Another voice—one with a hint of amusement but an edge of something sharper. “Yeah, let’s be real. Riku wouldn’t actually be serious about a poor kid like that.”

The cold voice from before spoke again, this time with a mocking lilt.

“When we dated, Riku liked going to fancy restaurants, high-end places. His current boyfriend can’t even afford that.”

More laughter.

Daeyoung felt like he was drowning.

His coworker nudged him. “Daeyoung, let’s go.”

But Daeyoung couldn’t move.

Because their words were still ringing in his ears.

His mind was replaying every moment he had spent with Riku.

Every time Riku flirted with him. Every time he teased him about their first meeting. Every time he insisted on covering a meal, paying for something small, brushing it off like it was nothing.

Every time he had reassured Daeyoung, telling him the money didn’t matter.

But what if it did?

What if everything—the flirting, the kindness, the relationship—was just a game to Riku?

Because it made sense, didn’t it?

Riku had everything—money, connections, comfort. He had people fawning over him, chasing after him. But Daeyoung?

Daeyoung was just a poor scholarship student who worked two jobs to survive.

And yet, somehow, Riku had set his sights on him.

It had been so easy to believe it was real. That Riku liked him for who he was and not because of some ridiculous obsession with pitiful soul.

But now?

Now, Daeyoung wasn’t so sure.

Because what if everything Riku’s friends said was true?

What if he had been the fool all along?

It started slowly.

Daeyoung didn’t avoid Riku entirely. That would be too obvious.

But he became careful.

The texts? He stopped responding as quickly. Sometimes he left them on read.

The conversations? He kept them short. No more playful banter. No more easy smiles.

Whenever Riku reached for him—whether it was just a casual brush of fingers or a teasing touch—Daeyoung found a reason to pull away.

And every time, he saw the confusion in Riku’s eyes.

But what could Daeyoung say?

I heard your friends talking about me.
They said you only like me because I’m a stray.
They said you’ll get bored of me soon.

He couldn’t ask Riku if it was true.

Because if it was—if everything had just been pity—he didn’t want to hear it from Riku’s mouth.

So instead, he stayed quiet.

At first, Riku didn’t notice.

Daeyoung was always busy—between school, work, and tutoring—so when he didn’t answer a text immediately, Riku didn’t think much of it.

But then it happened again.

And again.

And then, in person, Daeyoung stopped laughing at his jokes the way he used to.

Stopped lingering in conversations.

Stopped meeting his eyes.

Something was wrong.

Riku knew it.

So one night, when he caught Daeyoung stepping out of the café after closing, he confronted him.

“Daeyoung.”

Daeyoung paused but didn’t turn around.

Riku exhaled sharply, stepping closer. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Daeyoung said simply.

Riku knew that was a lie.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” Riku said, voice tight. “Not answering my texts. Not talking to me the way you used to.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Don't lie” Riku snapped, frustration creeping into his tone. “Did I do something?”

Daeyoung’s fingers curled into fists.

“No,” he said, voice quiet.

“Then why are you acting like this?” Riku demanded. “Did something happen? Just—talk to me.”

But Daeyoung just shook his head.

It had been weeks since Daeyoung started pulling away.

And in those weeks, their relationship had become something unrecognizable.

Riku still came to the café, still sat at his usual table, still watched Daeyoung move around behind the counter. But it wasn’t the same. Daeyoung didn’t look at him anymore. Didn’t stop by his table to chat between orders. Didn’t roll his eyes when Riku flirted or tease him.

Every time Riku tried to start a conversation, he got short, clipped responses. Every time he tried to touch him—even just lightly brushing his fingers against Daeyoung’s—Daeyoung pulled away. It was like Riku had suddenly turned into just another customer.

He thought maybe Daeyoung was just stressed. Maybe he was tired from work, from school, from taking care of his little brother. But then the days passed. Then weeks. And Daeyoung was still cold. Still distant. Still avoiding him like Riku had done something terrible—except Riku had no idea what.

And he was losing his mind.

So one night, after waiting for Daeyoung’s shift to end, he confronted him again.

“Daeyoung.”

Daeyoung paused, sighing as he pulled off his apron and turned around. “Riku, it’s late. Just go home.”

“No,” Riku snapped. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Daeyoung exhaled sharply, looking away. “I told you. I’m just busy.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Daeyoung’s gaze snapped to him, surprised by the anger in Riku’s voice.

“Don’t lie to me,” Riku said, voice unsteady. “You’re not just busy. You’re avoiding me. You’ve been acting weird for weeks. And I don’t—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed before continuing. “I don’t know why.”

Daeyoung looked away. “Riku—”

“What did I do?” Riku asked, taking a step closer. “Just tell me. If I messed up, if I did something wrong—tell me so I can fix it.”

Daeyoung’s fists clenched at his sides.

“You didn’t do anything,” he muttered under his breath.

Riku froze.

His heart pounded. His breath felt shaky.

Then—

“Let’s break up.”

Riku felt like he had been punched in the chest.

His mouth went dry. His fingers curled tightly against his sides.

“What?” he breathed.

Daeyoung didn’t look at him. “Let’s break up.”

Riku stared at him, waiting—hoping—for some kind of explanation. But Daeyoung didn’t say anything else. Just stood there, avoiding his eyes. Like this was nothing. Like this didn’t hurt.

Riku let out a choked laugh, shaking his head. “No. No, I don’t—What? Why?”

Daeyoung didn’t answer.

“Daeyoung.” Riku’s voice shook. “Please.”

Still, nothing.

And that was when Riku realized—Daeyoung wasn’t going to tell him.

Not why. Not what changed. Not anything.

Tears burned at the back of Riku’s eyes. His chest tightened.

“You can’t just say that and not tell me why,” he whispered, voice breaking.

Daeyoung’s hands clenched into fists.

“Just let it go, Riku.”

Riku’s vision blurred. His breath hitched.

Let it go?

Was that all he was to Daeyoung?

Something that could just be let go?

His shoulders trembled as he swallowed back a sob. “I love you.”

Daeyoung flinched.

And for a split second, Riku thought—maybe—he would take it back. That he would change his mind, that he would say something, that he would fix this.

But instead, Daeyoung let out a slow, quiet breath and said, “…You’ll be fine without me.”

And then he walked away.

Leaving Riku standing there, crying, confused, and completely shattered.

It had been a few weeks since the breakup, and in that time, Riku had stopped trying to understand why.

At first, he had texted nonstop. Asking Daeyoung to talk to him, to at least tell him why.

No response.

Then, he had come to the café every evening, waiting for Daeyoung to acknowledge him, to let him in, to let him fix whatever was broken.

But Daeyoung never did.

And every time Riku left, his eyes were red-rimmed, his usual grin gone, his shoulders slumped like he had lost something he didn’t know how to get back.

Daeyoung hated himself for it.

But he didn’t stop.

Because this was for the best.

“You should talk to him.”

Daeyoung looked up from the counter, finding his coworker staring at him with thinly veiled disappointment.

It wasn’t surprising. His coworker had been there that night—had been right next to him when he overheard Riku’s friends talking about him like he was some charity case.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Daeyoung muttered, focusing on wiping the counter even though it was already clean.

His coworker scoffed. “Bullshit. You broke up with him without even telling him why, and now you’re acting like that’s normal?”

Daeyoung’s jaw tightened. “It’s better this way.”

“Better for who? Because it sure as hell isn’t better for Riku.”

Daeyoung flinched.

His coworker exhaled, shaking his head. “You should’ve seen him yesterday. He came in, sat at his usual spot, didn’t even order anything. Just stared at you like he was hoping you’d look at him.” He crossed his arms, voice softer now. “And then he left. With tears in his eyes.”

Daeyoung gripped the rag in his hands, breathing slowly through his nose.

“He deserves to know, Daeyoung,” his coworker continued. “He deserves the truth.”

Daeyoung let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it.

“The truth?” he echoed. “And what good would that do?”

His coworker frowned. “He’d at least get to explain himself. You don’t even know if he thinks that way.”

Daeyoung didn’t answer.

Because that was the problem, wasn’t it?

He didn’t know.

Riku had never treated him like he was less. Never made him feel small or like a burden.

If anything, Riku had adored him.

Worked so hard to melt the walls around him.

Had made Daeyoung feel—for the first time—that he could be wanted.

And yet.

Daeyoung could still hear those voices.

“Riku always takes in strays.”
“He practically bought his way into Daeyoung’s life, didn’t he?”
“Riku wouldn’t actually be serious about a poor kid like that.”
“When we dated, Riku liked going to fancy restaurants. His current boyfriend can’t even afford that.”

He swallowed.

He knew he was being unfair. He knew he was a coward.

But even if Riku didn’t think like that now, would he always feel that way?

Would there come a time when Riku realized that Daeyoung could never keep up with him?

That he could never afford to go to those high-end places Riku had been used to?

That no matter how hard Daeyoung worked, he would always be the one who had to count his money before ordering something off a menu?

Riku deserved someone on his level.

Someone who could match his lifestyle.

Someone who could take him to those fancy restaurants and pay for him instead.

Not someone like Daeyoung.

Never someone like Daeyoung.

“…I can’t,” he finally murmured.

His coworker sighed. “Daeyoung—”

“Just leave it,” he said, voice tight.

His coworker didn’t push further.

But Daeyoung could feel his disappointment like a weight in his chest.

Not that it mattered.

Because nothing hurt more than knowing he had broken Riku’s heart with his silence.

And still choosing to do nothing about it.

Riku wasn’t sure why he was coming back.

He had told himself he was done.

But he amend himself that this was the last time.

That tonight, he would sit in his usual spot, watch Daeyoung from afar one final time, and then walk away for good.

Because if Daeyoung truly wanted nothing to do with him, then Riku had to let him go.

Even if it tore him apart.

But when he arrived at the café, Daeyoung wasn’t there.

For a moment, Riku just stood at the entrance, feeling like someone had pulled the ground from beneath his feet. He blinked, scanning the café, but Daeyoung was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, behind the counter, Daeyoung’s coworker was the one preparing drinks.

Frowning, Riku walked up to the counter, trying to keep his voice calm. “Hi, eum where’s Daeyoung?”

The coworker glanced at him, then hesitated. “He’s not working today.”

Riku’s stomach twisted. “Why?”

Another pause.

Then, the coworker sighed. “He’s been sick.”

The words hit Riku harder than he expected.

Sick?

Daeyoung had been sick, and he didn’t even know?

Riku clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Of course he didn’t know. Daeyoung had shut him out completely. He wouldn’t answer his texts, wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t even let him know if he was okay.

Even now—even now, after everything, Riku still cared. Still wanted to take care of him.

And the worst part? He didn’t even know where Daeyoung lived.

Because even when they were together, Daeyoung never let him visit.

Every time Riku had offered to drive him home, Daeyoung refused.

Every time he suggested dropping by, Daeyoung changed the subject.

And Riku had respected it, assuming Daeyoung just wasn’t comfortable showing him his living space.

But now—now, when all Riku wanted to do was see him, he had no idea where to go.

He exhaled sharply, pushing down the frustration bubbling in his chest. “Thanks for letting me know.” He turned to leave, shoulders stiff.

But before he could step away, Daeyoung’s coworker called after him.

“Riku. Wait.”

Riku stopped, glancing back.

The coworker hesitated, then sighed. “I need to talk to you.”

Riku furrowed his brows. “About what?”

Another pause. Then—“About why Daeyoung broke up with you. I dont want to intervene, but i feel like i need to”

Riku’s stomach dropped.

His hands clenched at his sides as he slowly turned back around, voice wary. “What do you mean?”

The coworker looked around, making sure no one else was listening, before lowering their voice.

“I overheard something a few weeks ago,” they said quietly. “Something Daeyoung heard, too.”

And then, piece by piece, Riku finally learned the truth.

That night.

His so-called friends.

The words they said.

How they made Daeyoung feel like he was nothing more than a charity case.

Like Riku had only been playing with him.

Like their relationship had been bought.

Like it was only a matter of time before Riku got bored and left.

By the time his coworker finished, Riku’s blood was boiling.

He was furious.

Furious at his friends for talking about their relationship like that.

Furious at Daeyoung for believing them instead of coming to him.

But most of all, he was furious at himself.

Because how hadn’t he noticed?

How had he not realized that Daeyoung was struggling with this? That behind every polite smile, every moment of hesitation, Daeyoung had been wondering if he truly belonged at Riku’s side?

Riku felt sick.

His grip on the counter tightened, his breaths shaky. “Do you know where he lives?”

His coworker sighed. “Are you sure you want to—?”

“Yes.”

“Riku—”

“Please,” Riku said, his voice raw.

The coworker studied him for a moment, then relented. “Yeah. I’ll write it down.”

As soon as Riku had the address, he was already out the door.

His hands trembled as he gripped the steering wheel.

Because now—now, he had something to fight for.

And he wasn’t leaving until Daeyoung finally listened to him.

Riku pulled up in front of a small, old house, nothing like the places he was used to seeing. The paint was faded, the gate slightly rusted, and the warm glow of the porch light barely reached past the small front yard.

His chest tightened.

He had always known that Daeyoung’s life was different from his. He knew Daeyoung worked hard, knew he had responsibilities that most people their age didn’t have to worry about. But seeing this—the modest house, the smallness of it, the simplicity—made it all feel real.

Made him realize just how much he didn’t know about Daeyoung’s life.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the car and made his way to the front door. He hesitated for a second before knocking.

A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged woman who looked a lot like Daeyoung.

Her sharp eyes studied him, taking in his expensive clothes, his presence—everything about him that clearly didn’t belong here.

“…Who are you?” she asked, her voice polite but wary.

Riku quickly straightened. “I’m—” He swallowed, his voice coming out softer. “I’m Daeyoung’s friend. I heard he was sick and wanted to check on him.”

Daeyoung’s mother’s expression softened a bit.

Before she could say anything, a small figure suddenly burst from inside the house.

“Ahh! It’s the nice hyung who helped us!”

Riku blinked in surprise as Taeyoung came bouncing up to him, eyes bright with excitement.

The little boy stopped beside his mother, practically vibrating as he tugged at her sleeve.

“Mom! That’s the hyung who helped us before! The one who paid for the mean man’s laptop!” Taeyoung turned to Riku, his small hands waving in the air as he spoke way too fast. “Mom, you don’t know, but back then, there was this really scary man who got mad because I spilled his drink, and he wanted Daeyoung hyung to pay, but this hyung said ‘I’ll pay for it’ and then he was really cool and—”

“Taeyoung,” his mother gently placed a hand on his head, stopping his rambling.

Riku, caught off guard, stood there, heart pounding.

Daeyoung had never talked about that night with his family.

Riku never expected them to know.

But now, Daeyoung’s mother was staring at him differently.

Her eyes softened into something else.

Something thoughtful.

“…I see, thankyou for helping them” she said softly, glancing back inside the house before stepping aside.

“Lets come in.”

Riku stepped inside the house, taking in his surroundings. It was small but clean, the furniture modest, the atmosphere warm. He could hear the faint sound of a TV playing in another room, the low hum of an electric fan struggling against the heat of the night.

Daeyoung’s mother gestured for him to sit in the small living room. She sat across from him, Taeyoung bouncing excitedly beside her.

“You said you’re Daeyoung’s friend?” she asked, her voice calm, but still studying him carefully.

Riku nodded. “Yes.”

“How did you two meet?”

Riku hesitated, glancing at Taeyoung, who was still grinning at him. “At the café where he works,” he finally said. “I used to go there a lot… and I guess I just started bothering him until he got used to me.”

Daeyoung’s mother let out a quiet hum, as if that answer told her everything she needed to know. “And now you’re here because you heard he was sick?”

“Yes,” Riku said, voice softer now. “I… I was worried about him.”

She was silent for a moment, then let out a small sigh, rubbing Taeyoung’s head gently.

“Daeyoung doesn’t bring friends home,” she murmured. “Even when he was younger, he always kept things to himself.”

Riku swallowed, his heart clenching.

After a long pause, Daeyoung’s mother finally stood up. “His room is small,” she said simply. “And it’s hot because we don’t have air conditioner. But if you really want to see him…” She gestured toward the narrow hallway. “Go ahead.”

Riku didn’t hesitate.

He needed to see Daeyoung.

The moment Riku stepped into Daeyoung’s room, a wave of heat pressed against him.

There was only a small oscillating fan in the corner, barely making a difference in the stifling air. The room was simple—a bed, a small desk, a few shelves filled with books and notes. No decorations, no unnecessary luxuries.

And there, lying in the middle of the small bed, was Daeyoung.

Riku’s breath caught.

Even now—even sick, sweating from the heat, strands of hair sticking to his forehead—he was still the most good-looking man Riku had ever seen.

And Riku missed him.

Missed him so much it physically hurt.

Slowly, Riku stepped closer, crouching beside the bed. His eyes traced over Daeyoung’s face, the slight furrow in his brows even in sleep, the way his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath.

His skin was damp with sweat, his thin t-shirt sticking to his torso. Despite the heat, his expression looked tired. Worn.

And Riku couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Tears welled in his eyes, his throat tightening.

Before he knew it, he was sobbing.

Silent, aching sobs as he buried his face in his hands, shaking beside Daeyoung’s bed.

Because he had missed this.

Missed him.

Missed everything.

And knowing that Daeyoung had suffered alone, that he had been sick, that he had kept Riku completely shut out—it was too much.

The quiet room was filled only with the sound of Riku’s ragged breathing, the occasional hiccup as he wiped at his eyes.

Daeyoung stirred awake to the sound of soft, muffled sobs.

His body felt heavy, his head still foggy with fever, but the warmth of the room—the stifling heat he had gotten used to—felt different tonight.

And then he heard it again.

A choked breath. A quiet sniffle.

He blinked slowly, adjusting to the dim light in his small room, before his gaze landed on the figure sitting beside his bed.

Riku.

Crying.

His body froze.

For a moment, he thought he was dreaming. Because why the hell would Riku be here? In his house, in his room, crying beside his bed like his whole world had just fallen apart?

“…Riku?”

Riku’s shoulders jerked at the sound of his name, but he didn’t look up.

He just kept crying, hands trembling as he wiped at his face, breath uneven and shaky.

Daeyoung’s chest ached at the sight.

Why?

Why was Riku here?

And why did he look so… broken?

He tried to sit up, but his body protested, his limbs weak from being sick. Still, he managed to push himself onto his elbows, forcing his voice to be gentle.

“…Why are you here?”

Riku still didn’t answer. He just sucked in a sharp breath, hands clutching his own knees as his body shook.

Seeing him like this—completely falling apart—hurt in a way Daeyoung hadn’t expected.

Instinctively, he reached out, his fingers lightly brushing Riku’s wrist. “Hey,” he whispered, his voice hoarse from sleep. “Riku. Breathe.”

Riku flinched at the touch, but when he finally lifted his face, his eyes were red, puffy, and filled with so much pain that it made Daeyoung’s throat tighten.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, in a shaky breath, Riku finally choked out—

“I know.”

Daeyoung frowned. “…Know what?”

Riku swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut before whispering, “I know why you broke up with me.”

Daeyoung’s heart stopped.

His breath hitched, his fingers curling against the thin sheets of his bed.

“…What?”

Riku exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if trying to compose himself, but his voice still wavered.

“I talked to your coworker,” he said, his voice raw. “He told me. About that night. About what my so-called friends said.”

Daeyoung felt his stomach drop.

His lips parted, but no words came out.

Riku let out a small, bitter laugh, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m so fucking angry, Daeyoung.” His voice shook, frustration thick in every word. “At them, for talking about us like that. At myself, for not realizing how you felt.”

Daeyoung clenched his jaw, looking away. “Riku—”

“But mostly,” Riku interrupted, voice breaking, “I’m angry at you.”

Daeyoung stiffened.

Riku let out a trembling breath, his hands balling into fists.

“Because instead of talking to me—instead of letting me tell you the truth—you just… left.”

Daeyoung swallowed hard.

He didn’t deny it.

Because it was true.

He had left.

He had run away, believing the worst before giving Riku a chance.

And Riku had suffered for it.

Daeyoung licked his lips, his throat dry as he forced himself to speak. “…I didn’t know what to do.”

“You could’ve talked to me,” Riku whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Daeyoung let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

And then, after a long pause, he finally said what had been eating him alive for weeks.

“I just… I didn’t want to hold you back.”

Riku’s eyes widened, confusion flickering across his tear-streaked face.

Daeyoung let out a quiet, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Look at us, Riku. Look at where we are.” He gestured vaguely around his room, his voice low. “Even now, we have to talk while sweating, because I can’t even afford AC.”

Riku stiffened.

“And that’s just the start,” Daeyoung continued, voice growing quieter. “I can’t take you to fancy restaurants. I can’t drive you anywhere. I barely have time for you between school, work, and taking care of my brother.” His fingers gripped the sheets tighter. “Is this really the kind of boyfriend you want?”

Silence.

Daeyoung exhaled, laughing humorlessly. “You deserve someone on your level, Riku. Someone who can—”

“Stop.”

Daeyoung’s breath caught at the sudden firmness in Riku’s voice.

Riku was staring at him now—really staring, his tear-filled eyes burning with something intense, something undeniable.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Riku asked, voice thick with frustration and heartbreak. “You’re acting like I give a shit about any of that.”

Daeyoung’s fingers twitched.

Riku inhaled shakily, his voice softening but still so, so firm.

“I love you, Daeyoung.”

Daeyoung felt something inside him crack.

“I don’t care about fancy restaurants. I don’t care if you can’t drive me anywhere. I don’t care if you’re busy, or if you can’t take me out on expensive dates, or if we have to sit in this hot-ass room to talk.”

He swallowed, his breath unsteady.

“I love you. And I never thought of you as a charity case. I never thought of leaving you when I got bored. Because I was never going to get bored.”

Daeyoung’s eyes stung.

Riku’s hands trembled in his lap. “I wanted you, Daeyoung. Just you. I didn’t give a damn about anything else. And I still don’t.”

Daeyoung felt something break inside him.

Because hearing it from Riku’s mouth—hearing how sure he was—how angry he was that Daeyoung ever doubted him—made all of his insecurities feel so…

Small.

So pointless.

His chest ached, his vision blurry with unshed tears.

He had spent so much time convincing himself that he wasn’t enough—that Riku deserved someone better.

But Riku had never wanted better.

He had wanted him.

Daeyoung swallowed past the lump in his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. “…I’m sorry.”

Riku let out a soft, broken laugh, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry,” he muttered. “Just… don’t run away from me again.”

Daeyoung inhaled deeply, blinking up at the ceiling before finally whispering, “Okay.”

Riku wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, his shoulders still trembling from everything he had just poured out.

Then, hesitantly, Daeyoung reached out.

His fingers brushed over Riku’s hand, lightly, cautiously.

Riku stilled, looking down at their barely touching hands before glancing back at Daeyoung, hope flickering in his gaze.

Daeyoung took another breath, voice raw.

“…Stay?”

Riku exhaled, a small, exhausted smile pulling at his lips.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Of course.”

And as he laced his fingers through Daeyoung’s, holding on like he would never let go again, Daeyoung finally let himself believe it.

Believe him.

And this time, he wasn’t going to let his fear take that away.