Chapter Text
Yoo Joonghyuk could feel the increasing number of curious gazes from passersby.
After all, he had already been standing in the same spot for the past 15 minutes, debating whether he should enter the establishment before him, or leave and never return. His gloved fingers twitched while subconsciously looking for something to hold, which had been a strange habit of his since he was a child - but back then, he always had a hand to hold.
Just then, someone gently tapped him on the shoulder, making Yoo Joonghyuk flinch.
“Excuse me sir, are you heading in?”
It was a woman in a chic brown blazer with light brown locks, even with a brown briefcase to match. Clearly, she was an office worker. She had a very non-threatening face, but Yoo Joonghyuk still leaned back uncomfortably at the faint scent of perfume.
‘...Too close.’
“Are you going in?” Despite the lack of response, the polite brunette only asked him again, gesturing lightly to the door of the coffee shop in front.
“After all, it's rather rare to find establishments like this these days.” She smiled.
In the 22nd century, it was currently autumn. The great technological advancement at the turn of the century had allowed for the incorporation of high-tech objects into the general populace’s lives. Behind the stone pavement that Yoo Joonghyuk had remained rooted to, a flying car zipped past at breakneck speed, followed closely by policing drones warning of illegal speeding. As such, it was hard to find cafés that didn't provide instantaneous service and weren't run entirely by robots in this day and age, since most preferred efficiency.
In stark comparison, the quaint coffee shop tucked away in the quiet corner of the street seemed to belong to another age altogether. It spoke of quieter, slower days.
Half swallowed by ivy, the aged sign saying ‘The Reader's Nook’ hung quietly above the dark green door that tinkled open as another customer stepped in. A faint “Welcome,” was heard before the doors swung shut again, pushing the scent of fresh brew and aromatics towards Yoo Joonghyuk’s face. Only this time, he didn't wrinkle his nose.
It seems that he wasn't fully against going in.
“Well, it's quite chilly out here,” The brunette remarked. Perhaps she, in her kind capacity, had determined him as someone who was in need of help. “How about we get inside?”
How dreadful. This woman reminded him very much of his psychiatrist, only much less genteel - and this one came in a warmer version.
Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips pursed like he was struggling to form the right words. After all, it had been too long since he had spoken to another human being face to face when he wasn't paying the other to solve the mental impediments he held towards opening his mouth. Or talk to him.
He wanted to refuse. Polite as she had been, this stranger was coming onto him too strongly.
It was at this moment that a man bumped into his shoulder while having a video conference on his floating system panel, heatedly arguing about something.
“Manager Han Myungoh, your point remains invalid if you have nothing to show for it…” A slightly pixelated voice came from the other end of the blue light panel.
“You have to understand! It's not that I don't want to deliver on my promises, I just wanted to prove–” Frustrated, the man interrupted whoever was on the other end and kept walking without sparing a glance anywhere else.
‘Too much activity. Too much noise.’ Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder still throbbed, and he had a strong urge to cover his ears, but he resisted.
He clenched his fist in his coat pocket, itching for something to fiddle with again. It was then when he suddenly touched the corner of a crumpled note given to him by Dr. Lee Seolhwa.
‘Enter the coffee shop at this address and order a cup of coffee from the barista.’
In neat, flawless handwriting, the pale haired psychiatrist in her equally pale doctor’s coat had written him a mission to complete before his next session with her. Though it didn't really matter much how neat the handwriting was when the note ended up crumpled into a ball in his pocket anyway. This was the result of his constant touching - he was usually a neat person, with the exception of his treatment towards anything made of paper. He had unknowingly formed an unconscious habit of fiddling with the edges of paper one day, and somehow, it had never stopped.
When he first received the strip of paper at the end of their recent session, Yoo Joonghyuk had doubts regarding the content of the note; he had never drunk a sip of coffee his entire life, so he did briefly wonder at the oddly specific mission. However, when he looked up at Lee Seolhwa who was tidying up the thick folder containing his details after years of ineffective therapy, she had only offered a wordless and enigmatic half-smile he couldn't decipher.
Now, Yoo Joonghyuk frowned deeply, the same way he had when he had first received the note.
In the end, he sighed before he finally strode forward and yanked at the bronze handle, jostling the copper bell into announcing his arrival in a flurry. He really hoped that the brunette would stop pestering him after he entered the establishment.
Wasn't it just a cup of coffee? What was so hard?
Then Yoo Joonghyuk entered; and behind the counter bustling about, was Kim Dokja.
Oh, fuck.
–––– ⋆.˚☕︎ ––––
Yoo Joonghyuk had done everything according to the mission he had been given by his psychiatrist.
Getting a train ticket the old fashioned way meant interacting with real humans at the train station, instead of booking a ticket through the smart system interface that everyone was using now.
The only ones still doing this were people from the older generations who still had trouble with the new systems’ blue screens. Yoo Joonghyuk had even received odd looks from passersby and eventually from the station master as the only non-senior in the queue.
But he had managed it. No big deal.
Taking the train in the public carriage instead of the upgraded business carriage he would usually opt to take (if he managed to leave his house) meant that he had to be shoved and squeezed, and was also subject to the noisy, public conversations on the train instead of a comfortable silence.
But he had done it. That was fine. Easy, even, when he just stared directly out the window at the scenery outside instead.
Walking down the street without his headphones? That was kind of difficult. But he had managed. He had instead channeled his anxiety of crowds through staring at the trees, observing the grass, looking at everything in the world under the sun except the people around him. He had just ignored everything. It went perfectly, and he found that he quite liked green.
But now?
Kim Dokja. The barista. The surprised man in front of him with that dark green apron tied around that thin waist–
Not okay.
Damn it. No, damn you, Lee Seolhwa. That woman must've known exactly what she was doing. Maybe she had gotten sick of all those psychiatric sessions without progress, because she had sent him directly to the source of his trauma.
Were professionally trained doctors even allowed to behave like this?
“Well, well, well…” Kim Dokja put down the cup he had been wiping with an almost threatening clink.
“How unexpected, if it isn't my impudent hoobae, Joong. Hyuk. ie.” Kim Dokja bit down on the last three syllables ruthlessly, sounding like he wanted nothing more than to chop up that name and chew it into mince.
Yoo Joonghyuk almost flinched. Almost.
“Hoobae?” The brunette who had come in with him - who he now found out was called Yoo Sangah-ssi when Kim Dokja addressed her as such - raised a hand to cover her surprised mouth. “Wow, what a pleasant surprise!”
“Yes,” Kim Dokja chuckled, drying his hands on his apron - but he never looked over at the hoobae in question. “How many years has it been? Five? Hmm, maybe six?”
Yoo Joonghyuk watched Kim Dokja converse with Yoo Sangah amicably like he was watching a movie play out on a screen in mute. He could no longer hear the contents of their conversations because all he heard was the static buzzing in his empty brain.
Yes – Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk had been in the same high school, senior and junior respectively, only 2 years apart. They were next-door neighbours, childhood friends and most of all, close companions; the two were rarely seen one without the other trailing behind.
So one might wonder, what could've possibly separated this pair?
The answer was: a publicly, miserably failed confession.
Yoo Joonghyuk could hear the jeering and the loud, boisterous crowd of high school children in his memories, but was forced back to the present when he saw those familiar starry eyes return to meet his gaze after sending Yoo Sangah off to her seat with her order.
“Biyoo,” Kim Dokja now said smilingly. But that smile wasn't welcoming at all… it was practically coated with poison.
“Baaht?” A soft sound rang in response, a blue screen popping up in front of the barista.
So it seemed that the coffee shop wasn't entirely without technology. The smart assistant had just been hidden in plain sight.
“Escort… this,” Kim Dokja gestured speechlessly at the expressionless man who stood frozen before his counter. “Out the door of our fine establishment, please.”
“Wait.” Yoo Joonghyuk finally snapped out of his stunned stupor, and unhesitatingly spoke his first word of the day. He was somewhat surprised at himself now, but the situation was too urgent to let him be fully aware of how easily he was speaking now.
“I.” He struggled with his words. Seeing Kim Dokja cross his arms and raise an eyebrow, he swallowed. “I haven't or–”
“Baaht!” Music started blasting louder over the hidden speakers before abruptly softening back to its original volume.
“...”
Yoo Joonghyuk's straight brows furrowed before he tried again. “I haven't ordered my–”
“Baaht!” The music raised its volume again, cutting him off.
Yoo Joonghyuk: “...”
Kim Dokja: “...”
That was most definitely on purpose.
“Biyoo-ah, let him speak.” Kim Dokja sighed helplessly. A small, reluctant baaht was vaguely heard before the music went back to its original volume, back to being ambient noise.
“I haven't ordered my coffee.” Yoo Joonghyuk finally managed to spit out.
“Fine.” Kim Dokja spun around, walking behind the cash register. He offered a very obviously fake smile and gritted out, "Dear customer, what would you like?”
Staring at that face, Yoo Joonghyuk's heart was going a mile a minute. Years ago, he hadn't responded fast enough. He couldn't repeat the same mistake now–
“I’d like you.” He blurted, followed by deep, immediate regret.
In response, there was a muffled scream from the corner of the coffee shop nearest to the counter. Both Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk's heads swivelled over in that direction, but there was nobody looking at them. The only one sitting there was a blonde girl with angelic features quietly sipping at her cup while peacefully perusing her magazine.
If there was anything slightly weird to be pointed out, it was that maybe her face looked slightly flushed, and her cheek kept twitching like she was holding back a smile... But nothing else was out of the ordinary.
Kim Dokja turned back and rolled his eyes dramatically. “I said I'd take an order, not that I ordered a big fat lie.”
“I'm serious.” Yoo Joonghyuk could hear his heart thundering like it had risen into his skull and was beating there instead. The words were pouring out now, unstoppable. Was it always this easy to speak? “I like you.”
‘WTF.’ Kim Dokja blinked. ‘That is so OOC.’
“Okay then,” Kim Dokja nodded solemnly and pointed to the concealed storage behind him like he hadn’t just heard earth-shattering words from Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth - they were clearly a lie, some kind of ruse to break his heart again. “Lemme look in the back to see if there's anything there that looks like I care."
Then he swiftly turned around and did exactly as he said, ignoring Yoo Joonghyuk's extended hand behind him. Kim Dokja walked into the concealed storage area after phasing through the projected wall, leaving Yoo Joonghyuk standing by the front, alone and panicking.
After making sure he was out of sight, Kim Dokja… Kim Dokja collapsed heavily, right into a sack of coffee beans. He then held his head in his hands and opened his mouth into some sort of a silent scream.
Biyoo the smart assistant had materialised into a fluffy little ball of light and was hovering around his oddly sprawled figure after sensing her owner's deep distress.
“Baaht…” She whimpered, holding up a blue system panel that showed Kim Dokja’s absurdly high heartbeat and other out-of-control vitals. Kim Dokja waved at her. “It's fine, it's fine…” he whispered.
Everything was fine. Everything was going to be fine. Not like there was a man standing in his coffee shop in front of his counter or anything. Not like that man was also the same one who had been haunting his dreams almost every night since high school or anything. Not the man who looked older than the one in his memories, but was still unfairly too goddamnned good looking or anything. Not a man with eyebrows seemingly drawn by a single, uninterrupted stroke of a famed artist's brush; a nose and a chin shaped in perfect angles that defied attempts to measure them through mere devices of men; a pair of deep eyes seemingly carved out of a beautiful jewel containing all the misfortunes found in this world… or anything…….
“No, no… it's not fineeee.” He whined, grabbing his scalp irritably. “Biyoo… what should I do?”
“Baaht!” She looked distressed for him and could only motion to pat him, though unfortunately as a projection, she couldn't really touch him.
Seeing this, Kim Dokja sighed again, his head sinking deeper into the coffee beans. The familiar smell did help him to calm down somewhat - it was what he had turned to in an attempt to pick himself back up from the mess he had become after leaving abruptly with his heart broken 6 years ago, and somehow he had found some form of success after endless tests and trials.
The bag of beans obviously smelt like coffee - it smelt of warmth, and the earthy smell reminded him of soil.
Kim Dokja blinked, his head slowly rising from the pit of coffee beans. A few beans that had stuck from when he pressed his face into the sack slowly dropped off his face one by one.
Yes, Kim Dokja slowly smiled. The Reader’s Nook was a coffee shop that prided itself on its authenticity. Which meant that they also happened to grow their own coffee beans in the back garden.
Looks like there would be a special order for a special man, after all.
–––– ⋆.˚☕︎ ––––
Meanwhile in the front, Yoo Joonghyuk was very much panicking; although it mainly happened internally.
For him, as a special case of facial paralysis, his panic manifested as an even more stoic mien plastered upon his face. More easily explained was that the more panicked he was, the fiercer and colder he would look outwardly.
This was perhaps some form of ancient defense mechanism used to scare off the potential threats inherited from the primate ancestors that humans had evolved from, and Yoo Joonghyuk was able to somehow utilise it in everyday life to max efficacy.
And so, with his panic scale currently at over 9000, Yoo Joonghyuk was practically radiating iciness.
“Is it just me, or is it cold in here?” A customer with his back turned towards the counter complained, shivering.
“Not just you, but I think I know why.” Han Sooyoung boredly twisted the strings on her purple hoodie. She barely spared a glance at Yoo Joonghyuk before looking back at the guy in the seat across from her.
She was long sick of this blind date she had been forced to attend; inwardly she urged the handsome (she reluctantly admitted he was just a little bit more good looking than she was) stranger standing oddly paralysed in front of the counter to turn up the iciness. Maybe he could freeze up the place even more until this incompetent showoff of a man would leave by himself.
Unfortunately, he didn't. He kept rambling about this or that, showing no interest in her. And when he finally deigned to ask about her, he had scoffed audibly when she had said she was a novelist. Han Sooyoung’s eyelid twitched.
Welp! That was enough toxic masculinity for today. In fact, that singular conversation had probably given her more than a lifetime’s supply.
“This is why I will never date men.” She muttered under her breath.
“What did you say?” The Blind Date Guy (she had long forgotten his name) asked.
“Nothing.” Han Sooyoung fake-smiled with enough plastic in her expression that she wondered if Blind Date Guy was actually blind in both eyes or just That Stupid to not get the gist.
Although that weird icy guy (see: panicking Yoo Joonghyuk) had done a great service by making her blind date uncomfortable, it wasn't enough. It seems she still had to chase him out herself.
Interrupting whatever nonsense he was spewing now, she pulled out her car keys and set them down loudly on the table. It was obviously keys to the old-fashioned and flamboyantly red sports car parked right outside the property, because the keychain even had an identical mini model attached.
“Sorry,” Not sounding very sorry, she flashed another cool, fake smile at the stunned man. “I don't think we'd work out.”
“Oh. N-no, you've got it all wrong.” The blind date started stuttering at the sudden show of unexpected wealth. And it was wealth, because old things were even harder to come by now that everything was high tech. “Everything I said was about other writers. You seem successful, so I think–”
Han Sooyoung put up a finger directly in the man's face, shutting him up. She then took a long sip of her coffee. Damn it was good coffee. It had been a while since she had good coffee, and it was handmade to boot; she should drink this while writing next time.
“I said,” She set down her cup with an emphasised clack. "I don't think this is going to work out.” Would you look at this asshole, trying to backtrack just because he realised she was successful.
“B-but why?” The guy sputtered.
Han Sooyoung sighed. Looks like scaring him off with wealth wasn't going to work; she had miscalculated. She needed something else, a different deterrent that this shameless guy couldn't possibly ever hope to achieve.
Her eyes spun in their sockets as she rapidly began to think of something that suited that category. Just then, her gaze caught onto the weird guy (see again: panicking Yoo Joonghyuk) who was still standing stock still in front of the counter, motionless. A small voice in the back of her mind wondered where the barista had gone, and why this guy was still standing in the exact same spot even though 5 minutes had gone by… but that wasn't important. What was important was that she had found just the right thing.
“Him.” Her finger shifted and pointed directly behind Blind Date Guy, at Yoo Joonghyuk. “I'm looking for someone who is more handsome than him.”
Yoo Joonghyuk, who had inexplicably been involved in breaking someone's romance out of nowhere: “...?”
The blind date spun around bewilderedly and was immediately blasted in the face by eyebrows seemingly drawn by a single, uninterrupted stroke of a famed artist's brush; a nose and a chin shaped in perfect angles that defied attempts to measure them through–
「 The rest is redacted for the safety of the reader's eyes; repeated consumption of such handsomeness will damage the lovely readers’ eyes so it has been ■■■■ for you ^^」
(#YJH’s handsomeness gets weaponised)
At this moment, Kim Dokja exited the concealed storage holding a warm takeout cup, only to see a man run out of his coffee shop crying.
“???” That's a new one...
Among the sobs, he vaguely seemed to have heard something about how the man would “never achieve that level of handsome” or something… but no matter. He now held in his hands something to get rid of Yoo Joonghyuk.
“Joonghyuk-ie.” Kim Dokja smiled, and Yoo Joonghyuk flinched this time. He hadn't heard that nickname in years, and he used to cringe at the overly intimate address - but now he couldn't tell if he was more anticipative or terrified to hear it suddenly. Or both.
His eyes stayed uncontrollably glued to Kim Dokja’s pretty smile, even as his peripheral vision vaguely registered the barista setting down a suspicious covered cup on the side of the cash register.
“Hyuk-ie, isn't it polite to answer when a hyung calls you?” Kim Dokja’s smile turned up the brilliance a notch, completely opposite to his fake customer service smile from before.
“...What is it?” Yoo Joonghyuk struggled to blink under the assault of such brightness.
“Tell hyung what you want to order. You still haven't answered me, you know?”
‘Yes.’ A small voice reminded him. ‘You're here to get a cup of coffee. You get a chance to speak to him and complete the mission from Dr Lee, too.’
“Coffee.” Yoo Joonghyuk choked out. “A cup of coffee, please.”
“Sure, what kind?” Kim Dokja said kindly. The barista was being oddly cooperative now, which rang some type of alarm in his mind. But still, he had a mission to complete.
Yoo Joonghyuk has never had coffee, ever. As a pure blooded gamer through and through, the only two fluids he had ever consumed were water or energy drinks in any unhealthy shade of neon. He scanned all the complicated handwritten words on the chalkboard hanging above the counter. Were all of these coffee?? He had never known that there were so many.
“Latte.” He randomly named one off the menu.
“Ran out.” Kim Dokja immediately replied.
“Americano?”
“We're out.”
“...Flat White.”
“Nope.”
“......Espresso.”
“All gone!”
Yoo Joonghyuk helplessly listed downwards the menu. Eventually, he ran out of things to recite, and fell silent.
“Oh no," Kim Dokja sighed heavily and shook his head in mock regret. “Looks like we're all out of coffee today, Joonghyuk-ie.”
Just then, the whirring of the coffee machine beside him doing its routine self maintenance punctuated the air. It even let out a whoosh of coffee scented steam at the right moment.
There was a beat of awkward silence.
Kim Dokja shamelessly kept smiling even as he silently cursed out his unreliable machine internally. “Anything else?”
He watched Yoo Joonghyuk take a deep breath. “Anything.” He emphasised, suddenly leaning forward. In response, the barista leaned back subconsciously.
“I'd take anything you give me, Kim Dokja.”
God damn it.
It's been years since the incident, so how could this guy still have such a hold on him? Kim Dokja's smile faded a little at the serious look in his eyes.
No. He couldn't allow this bastard to get to him. Now he forced himself to turn his smile up a notch.
“Great, I've been waiting for you to say that!” Kim Dokja grabbed the unidentified cup and handed it over readily to Yoo Joonghyuk, who subconsciously reached out to accept it. He noticed how Kim Dokja’s fingers twitched a little when their hands brushed against one another.
A familiar but faded warmth.
“Here, take this special order and go.” Kim Dokja quickly waved, swiftly naming a random price. “Now that'll be $51.49, dear customer.”
Dazedly holding onto an unexpectedly heavy cup, Yoo Joonghyuk readily scanned his smartwatch on the terminal like he hadn't just paid an exorbitant price for a single cup of unknown substance.
Kim Dokja: ‘He's willing to play into my hands like that?!’
Yoo Joonghyuk: ‘...I never knew coffee was so expensive.’
Kim Dokja blinked in shock before he continued gesturing for the man to basically get out of his coffee shop, to which Yoo Joonghyuk complied, albeit with a blank look in his eyes.
Once he heard the little copper bell ring on his door, Kim Dokja leaned down against the counter and sighed, hidden by his tall coffee bar.
He secretly glanced over at the exit and saw Yoo Joonghyuk still standing outside his store, gazing straight at the counter where he had been standing. Startled, he ducked again.
“Crazy son of a gun.” He muttered, clutching his chest. Why was this guy here? Haunting his dreams, and now he had to haunt his waking days, too?
Kim Dokja absolutely refused to admit that seeing Yoo Joonghyuk after 6 years apart could still make his heart race like he was just some stupid, hormone-addled teenager all over again. Even if Yoo Joonghyuk was the asshole who broke his heart in public.