Work Text:
‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪Peppermint Latte ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪‧𓍢ִ໋☕
It’s snowing outside.
Not the overwhelming, violent rush of a blizzard, but a fine, powdery trickle that melts right into the pavement, leaving behind damp patches of grass peeking through.
The café is quiet enough on a Tuesday afternoon that Soobin can sneak in some of his required readings from behind the counter without feeling too guilty. He’s highlighting a paragraph when the bell tinkles, bringing with it a flash of icy, stinging air. Soobin shoves his readings to the side and puts on his customer service smile.
The boy that enters is around his age, half-engulfed in a black puffer jacket and baggy jeans pooling over thick combat boots. Silky dark hair peeks out from beneath his beanie. He’s covered in fine speckles of snowflakes, some of them caught on his eyelashes, on the arch of his cheekbone. He walks up to the counter, scanning the board above Soobin for the drinks menu.
Soobin is pretty proud of their selection. He helped curate it after all. The owner of the café gave him free reign to experiment with their holiday specials, and he likes to think he did a pretty good job. Gingerbread, candy cane, peppermint, maple pecan lattes – the possibilities were endless. Sugar and caffeine practically made up Soobin’s bloodstream, and Christmas season was the perfect excuse for him to consume both in copious amounts without being judged.
The guy hovers a few paces behind the counter, looking unsure. Soobin figures he’ll give him a friendly little nudge in the right direction. “Hi,” he smiles. “Our special for today is the peppermint latte, just so you know. Would you maybe like to try that?”
The guy blinks back at him. His cheeks are bitten red from the cold, his nose pink. He gives Soobin the impression of a marshmallow, the way he’s huddled into his layers. Soobin wonders if he should have suggested the S’mores hot chocolate instead when the guy finally speaks. “Uh – sure. I’ll have it to-go, please.”
Soobin tops up his cup with extra whipped cream. “Here you go,” he slides it over to him. “Have a nice day!”
“Thanks, you too,” he flashes a small smile in response, gloved fingers curling around the warmth seeping through his cup. He makes his way back outside, deftly adjusting his slowly unraveling scarf before stepping into the cold. Soobin catches a glimpse of him through the windows, haloed by the falling flecks of snow. Soobin finds himself thinking he looks like an angel in the early winter light. He takes a sip of his drink.
He wrinkles his nose, brow furrowed as he stares at the peppermint latte. His lips are pinched in disapproval. It’s the last thing Soobin sees before the man rounds a corner and disappears from his view.
Soobin’s jaw drops. How could he have been so mistaken? That man isn’t an angel. “What the fuck,” he whispers heatedly to himself.
That peppermint latte recipe was practically his child! He spent days deliberating how much peppermint extract to put in the syrup, because he knew just how overwhelming the flavor could be when overdone.
He tries to pass the next few minutes continuing his reading assignment, but the irritation still tugs at him, the memory of the man’s lips – plump and pink, his traitorous brain supplies unhelpfully – curled in disgust replaying in his head like a superimposed image.
“You’re being crazy,” Beomgyu tells him later when he drops by. He’s sipping on the gingerbread latte Soobin made him. The second one, to be exact. Soobin’s love of sugar can only be rivalled by Beomgyu’s. It probably also doesn’t help that Soobin only charges him for the price of one drink, because Beomgyu likes to abuse his best friend privileges and Soobin begrudgingly lets him.
“You don’t understand,” Soobin frowns. “He looked at the latte like it had mortally offended him.”
Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “Jeez, I don’t know, maybe he doesn’t like peppermint.”
“Then why did he order it?” Soobin huffs.
“I’m sorry, are you the coffee police? Why do you care so much if he likes the drink or not? You’re not the one that paid for it anyway.”
Soobin pouts. “Because I make amazing holiday specials and this is a stain on my reputation!”
“Okay, relax. You’re definitely not popular enough to have a reputation in the first place.”
Soobin glares at him from across the counter. “See if I ever give you free drinks again.”
Beomgyu’s eyes widen in slight alarm as he gasps. “Do you really want my sugar withdrawals to be on your conscience?”
“Bold of you to assume I have a conscience,” Soobin mumbles. He’s cleaning the countertop when he spots the peppermint extract bottle peering at him from the corner shelf. He scowls as the memory of this afternoon’s visitor washes over him all over again. Not that it ever left, really.
Beomgyu sighs. “You can just redeem yourself the time next he comes in.”
❄❄❄
‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪Salted Caramel Maple Latte ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪‧𓍢ִ໋☕
The next time Soobin sees him is in the middle of a Friday rush.
He’s busy by the coffee machine while Huening Kai is refilling the cinnamon rolls fresh from the ovens when a flash of red from his periphery catches his attention.
He nearly drops the steaming milk all over his apron when he realizes. It’s the man from last week, the one who’d inadvertently caused his recent preoccupation with thinking up new holiday recipes in the margins of his notebook instead of focusing during his morning lectures. Those wasted hours may have an upside to them after all, because this time Soobin is prepared.
Huening Kai makes his way out of the kitchens with fresh pastries. There’s a suspicious dusting of brown sugar on his chin. Normally Soobin would scold him for stealing bites of sweets while they were on the clock, but he had more important matters to attend to. “It’s him,” Soobin hisses surreptitiously as he gestures to the queue leading to the counter.
Beomgyu had wasted no time spreading the news of Soobin’s newfound one-sided beef to the group chat, so Huening Kai had been (unwillingly) briefed to be on the lookout for someone matching the man’s description. Still, Soobin doesn’t expect him to blink and say, “Oh, that’s Yeonjun,” as he points at the man in the red fur coat and baggy jeans.
“Wait, you know him?” Soobin can’t help the accusing look on his face.
Huening Kai shrugs. “We took the same Visual Arts class last semester. He’s pretty nice.”
“Nice!” Soobin scoffs. The betrayal he feels increases tenfold. “I’ll show you nice,” he mumbles beneath his breath. He pastes his best customer service smile on his face as Yeonjun finally gets his turn at the counter. He’s got sunglasses perched on top of his head, bright red fur coat a shocking pop of color in the muted backdrop of the café, looking effortlessly stylish in a sea of miserable parkas and padded jackets. It only serves to further add to Soobin’s irritation.
“Hi, what can I get you?” Soobin manages to stop his left eye from twitching, but only barely.
Yeonjun appears to be unsure again, scanning the menu items before briefly glancing at Soobin. He swiftly returns his gaze to the specials board, a faint flush on his cheeks, winter-bitten and dusted with remnants of snowflakes.
Soobin clears his throat. This is it. His possibly only chance at redemption. He’s already got the perfect drink in mind – something universal, nothing too niche or divisive. A salted caramel maple latte. Who wouldn’t like that?
“Today’s special is the salted caramel maple latte, in case you’re interested.”
Yeonjun cocks his head to the side for a second, as if deliberating, then he nods. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good.” His lips part open like he’s about to say something else, but then decides against it last minute. Yeonjun waits by the side as Soobin makes his drink, eyes roving over the chalk-drawn menu replete with doodles of holly wreaths and candy canes and coffee mugs. “Do you do the menu art as well?”
It takes a second for Soobin to realize that Yeonjun is talking to him. He fumbles with the caramel syrup, nearly knocking it over. “Uh, no. My friend Beomgyu does. But I make the holiday specials and switch them out every week.” Soobin doesn’t know why he adds that last bit. It wasn’t like Yeonjun asked. Part of him is growing quickly horrified to learn that he likes the feeling of Yeonjun’s eyes trained on him, that singular attention. Soobin chases that thought away. Once Yeonjun gives this drink his seal of approval, Soobin can finally excise this weird unwanted fixation from his soul and move on.
“Ah,” Yeonjun blinks, a slow smile curling over his lips. “That makes sense, then.”
“What does?”
“Why you look so excited when you mention the special of the day.”
Soobin blushes. “Oh.” He didn’t realize he’d been doing that. He hands Yeonjun his drink, feeling strangely anxious.
“Don’t worry, I find it really cute.” Yeonjun hums, staring at Soobin from beneath his lashes. He takes the drink, their fingers briefly brushing against each other. “Thanks, Soobin.” Yeonjun makes his way to a vacant seat by the window before pulling out his laptop.
Soobin’s brain blanks out for approximately three seconds. Three seconds in which he wonders if Yeonjun is a wizard in addition to being an angel, because how the hell did he know his name?
“You’re wearing a name tag, dumbass,” Huening Kai snorts as he packs up a muffin from the display case.
Soobin needs to work on his brain to mouth filter too, apparently.
“So,” Huening Kai flashes him a sly look, “still think Yeonjun is the devil incarnate?”
“That’s none of your business,” Soobin sniffs imperiously.
“Actually it is, because you haven’t stopped talking about it in the group chat. Which I’ve muted already, by the way.”
Soobin ignores him. Then he spots a trail of crumbs on the front of Huening Kai’s apron. He groans. “Kai! Stop eating the damn cinnamon buns when nobody’s looking.”
It’s Huening Kai’s turn to ignore him.
❄❄❄
People start trickling out a couple of hours later.
He only manages to catch a few more stolen glimpses of Yeonjun tucked away in the corner, brows furrowed as he frowns at his laptop screen in concentration, fingers flying away over the keyboard.
The sun has already set when Yeonjun packs up his things, sending Soobin and Huening Kai a goodbye wave before he walks out the door. It’s another few minutes before Soobin manages to make his way to Yeonjun’s vacated table to clear out the coffee mug.
He freezes.
It’s practically untouched save for the whipped cream on top.
What. the. fuck.
He knows it’s ridiculous, but he can’t help but take it personally, that uncomfortable sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach making itself known. He stomps over behind the counter, dumping out the stale contents of Yeonjun’s drink into the sink. It trickles treacherously slow down the drain as if to mock him.
“Yunjin!” He calls out to one of their regulars sitting in her designated corner, her nose buried in a book.
“Huh?” She frowns over at him in confusion.
“Do you like the holiday drinks I make?” Soobin crosses his arms across his chest, anxiously tapping his sneakers against the wooden floorboards. He’s well aware he sounds kind of insane, but his pride has taken a hit two times in a row now, and he needs answers.
“Is this a trick question?” She stares at him in bemusement. “Of course I do. Who the hell wouldn’t? It’s sugar and coffee. The dream team.”
Soobin throws his hands up in the air. “Exactly!” Then he storms into the kitchen to take his frustrations out on the leftover pastries from today.
And to think he’d almost been won over by the enemy after a singular conversation in which he’d called Soobin cute.
He needs to remain vigilant.
Pretty boys and their questionable, uncultured taste buds cannot be trusted.
❄❄❄
‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪Toasted Marshmallow Vanilla Latte ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪‧𓍢ִ໋☕
It’s been over a week since Yeonjun’s last visit to the café.
Not that Soobin is counting, or anything.
It’s not like he expects him to come back either, since everything Soobin makes for him is apparently mediocre and unworthy of being consumed.
“One person not liking your holiday specials does not mean the end of the world,” Beomgyu mutters as he wipes off yesterday’s menu from the chalk board and sketches out a new one for the week. “You need to get a life.”
“I do have one, thank you very much,” Soobin snaps.
Said life consisted of miserably trudging through the muddy remnants of last night’s snow to get to his morning lectures, experimenting with new recipes in his apartment’s laughable excuse of a kitchen, then hurrying off to the café in the afternoons for his shift, trying not to glare at the vacant spot by the window where Yeonjun had all but disparaged his precious creation by leaving it untouched.
Beomgyu stares pointedly at the coffee stains on Soobin’s apron and the spot of melted marshmallow clinging stubbornly to Soobin’s sleeve that he’d somehow missed. He sighs. “When was the last time you went on a date?”
Soobin wrinkles his nose. “How is that even relevant?”
“Because you need some kind of distraction from this one-sided vendetta you have going on with Yeonjun. Get some dick or something. Or better yet, get some dick from Yeonju –”
The door tinkles open.
A man walks in, bundled up in a beanie and puffer jacket. Trailing behind him is a flash of red fur.
Soobin’s heart drops down to his stomach.
Yeonjun sends him a merry wave before he and his friend head straight for the window seat, plopping down their backpacks and laptops.
“The universe hates me,” Soobin mumbles into the mug he was cleaning out.
There’s a glint in Beomgyu’s eyes that Soobin does not appreciate at all. “Well, well, well. What are the odds that your Yeonjun walks in just as we were talking about his dick.”
“We? There is no we,” Soobin sputters. He catches Yeonjun straightening out of his seat and making for the counter. Beomgyu is still intent on talking about Yeonjun’s dick. Sweat starts to bead down his back. This does not bode well for him. “And he’s not my Yeonjun.”
“There’s no shame in wanting a piece of that, by the way,” Beomgyu nods in approval as Yeonjun runs his fingers through his hair, effortlessly slicking it back. “You’ve definitely chosen a great specimen to obsess over. Although personally I’m more partial towards his friend. Whew, look at the biceps on that one even through the sweater, oof.”
Soobin stomps on Beomgyu’s boot. Hard.
“Hi, what can I get you?” he says through gritted teeth as Yeonjun walks up to the counter.
Soobin desperately hopes he hadn’t overheard any of that. His shame would never cease to haunt him otherwise, and he may have to renounce Beomgyu as his best friend for the rest of his life.
“Hey,” Yeonjun grins. He looks entirely too enthusiastic for someone who doesn’t seem to enjoy anything from the café. Soobin is more than a little puzzled. Maybe, just maybe, this was the universe giving him a third and final chance to redeem himself. He’s not feeling too great about his chances, though.
Yeonjun falters as he notices Beomgyu crouched down on the floor, clutching his foot and whimpering in pain. “Um, is he okay?”
Soobin waves his hand in the air dismissively. “Don’t mind him. He’s just, er, hard at work decorating the specials menu.”
“Oh! What is it today?” Yeonjun peers down at the board with curiosity.
It’s not as if you’d like it, Soobin grumbles inwardly. But he bites his tongue, because a) Yeonjun is a paying customer, and b) he’s also vaguely distracted by the smell of his cologne as he leans against the counter and into Soobin’s space, the sharp scent of citrus and sandalwood threading in pleasantly with the ever-present notes of ground coffee in the air.
“It’s the toasted marshmallow vanilla latte,” Beomgyu croaks from his spot on the floor, eyes still watering in pain.
“Another one of your creations?” Yeonjun cocks his head to the side as he regards Soobin.
Soobin resists the urge to wince. “Yes.” To prevent a repeat of the past two incidents, he adds: “But, ah, I don’t know if it will be –”
“Great!” Yeonjun claps his hands together. “I’ll have one. And a cinnamon bun too, please.”
Soobin doesn’t know if he can bear another suckerpunch to his pride, but he can’t exactly refuse Yeonjun without the threat of looking completely deranged.
Beomgyu gives him a thumbs up along with an eyebrow waggle when Yeonjun makes his way back to his seat.
“Get back to work,” Soobin huffs.
“I’m not even getting paid for this,” Beomgyu points out. “I do this for the love of the game. And the free drinks, of course.”
❄❄❄
Soobin tries to keep busy to stop himself from obsessively checking Yeonjun’s table to see if the drink is another disgusting abomination for him, or if the curse has finally been lifted.
At first he does some work behind the counter for his classes during a lull in the café hours, then he blinks and there’s suddenly five people in line, and the rest of his shift continues in a blur.
Yeonjun and his friend Taehyun (which Soobin finds out from Beomgyu, who is absolutely shameless and has no qualms about chatting up strangers in cafés) are still working on their laptops when the rush finally dies down some time later.
He steels himself and takes a peek.
Someone is definitely enjoying the latte, holding up the mug to their mouth as they take another sip.
Except it’s Taehyun who’s currently in possession of the drink Yeonjun ordered, and it stays on his side of the table for the rest of their stay in the café.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Soobin mumbles to himself.
Soobin slumps down on his stool, arms crossed against his chest in frustration. What the hell is he doing wrong? He squints at them from across the room. Taehyun seems to like it well enough, so why isn’t it good enough for Yeonjun?
“He’s obviously a pretentious asshole who thinks he’s too good for sugary coffee and the holiday spirit!” Soobin seethes as he paces back and forth behind the counter once he’s closed up for the night. The fairy lights strung up above the windows are still lit, Soobin’s Christmas playlist still faintly humming through the speakers that he’d forgotten to switch off in his haze of irritation.
“For someone obsessed with all things Christmas, you sure are being a major Grinch right now,” Beomgyu snorts as he packs up his colored chalks and stencils.
Soobin sputters. “Yeonjun is the Grinch! He’s the one ruining the Christmas spirit!”
Beomgyu arches a brow. “Because he gave away his latte to a friend? A friend with really defined muscles and the softest brown hair and big sparkling eye–”
“Ugh.” Soobin buries his face in his hands. “You will never understand my plight.”
“Because it’s all made up in your head. Hope that helps.”
❄❄❄
‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪Toffee Nut Latte ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪‧𓍢ִ໋☕
The second week of December passes by in a haze of intermittent snow, piling coursework and readings for Soobin, and the dawning realization that he was once again behind on Christmas shopping. Last year he gave everyone socks because he panic-bought them three days before the 25th, and he’s not sure his friendships can survive that again.
He’s brainstorming gift ideas behind the counter of the café, lightly tapping a pencil against his notebook as he ignores the textbook he’s supposed to be reading for class, lying open to a page long forgotten.
“Soobin,” someone sing-songs from the corner, “do you need some more help with Professor Kim’s class?”
Soobin takes a peek from his spot behind the coffee machine. “Um, I think I’m fine for now, but thanks.”
Another thing that December seems to have brought with it: one Choi Yeonjun, who appears to have permanently claimed the seat by the window despite his seeming aversion to the drinks Soobin has made for him thus far.
It’s a case most bewildering.
Soobin doesn’t understand it at all. Yeonjun would unfailingly find himself in the café multiple times a week, ordering whatever holiday special they have for the day, yet ending up leaving it nearly completely untouched. Soobin wishes he could ignore it. But anything involving Yeonjun is practically impossible to ignore.
Even worse, he and Yeonjun have developed some kind of routine together, one that Soobin actually enjoys.
Ever since Yeonjun had seen the textbook and coursework he sometimes keeps behind the counter during the dull hours in the café, he’s taken to giving Soobin some of his old notes and even helping him with some chapters he’s struggling with. Yeonjun had taken the same class last semester, and was at times even better at explaining concepts than the actual professor. He was a lot more patient for one, and Soobin couldn’t help but hang on to every word he said, watching the way his lips moved and pouted, the way his fingers would brush against Soobin’s as Yeonjun took hold of Soobin’s pen, scribbling some notes down in the margins of the textbook for him.
The way he’d lend Soobin his spare scarf (because of course he had one) on the days Soobin was too stubborn to wear one, his nimble fingers looping the soft wool around Soobin’s neck, stepping close enough for Soobin to see the shine of gloss on his lips and the mole beneath his eye.
Soobin would spend the rest of his shift in a daze, only snapping out of it when he realizes that Yeonjun’s mug, Soobin’s precious holiday creation, was still full and stale and cold. His mood would always immediately dampen.
It was nothing short of maddening.
Yeonjun is packing up his things after another day of studying at the café, waving Soobin goodbye from the door.
“Ah, wait,” Soobin calls out to him. He unearths the notebook Yeonjun had lent him last week from his backpack, filled with neatly organized notes to help him study for Professor Kim’s exam. He approaches Yeonjun by the door, handing it over to him. “Thanks for this,” he smiles. “It was really helpful. I think next week’s exam might not actually be so bad.”
Yeonjun grins. “I’m glad. I’m sure you’ll do great.”
Something rough brushes against Soobin’s face. He wrinkles his nose. There’s a piece of loose pine leaf stuck to his cheek. He looks up, catching sight of the Christmas garlands he and Huening Kai had put up yesterday, pine leaves interspersed with ribbons and holly. That’s not what causes the rush of panic in him, though.
There’s a mistletoe hanging above them, dangling right above the door.
That definitely wasn’t part of the Christmas decor they’d set up last night. Huening Kai must have added it some time this morning without Soobin noticing. The traitor. He flushes.
“Oh,” Yeonjun’s eyes widen. “Mistletoe.”
Soobin swallows. “Yeah.”
There’s a playful look on Yeonjun’s face, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. His eyes flicker briefly to Soobin’s mouth. “Well, might as well, right?” He hums. “For the Christmas spirit.”
Yeonjun takes a step closer.
He gives Soobin enough time to back away.
Soobin doesn’t.
Yeonjun tilts his head to the side. “Is this okay?” He whispers.
Soobin nods back at him dazedly, feeling like he’s in a dream.
Yeonjun’s lips press against Soobin’s cheek, soft as butter. His lips are icy from standing in the half-open door, his gloved fingers gently hovering against Soobin’s cheek. His hair brushes against Soobin’s skin like the faintest flutter of wings. He pulls away, cheeks dusted pink.
“Bye,” Yeonjun clears his throat, stepping into the winter night.
Soobin stands in the doorway like an idiot for the next few seconds, wondering if he’d hallucinated everything up to this point. He clutches at his flaming cheeks, willing himself to calm down. Did that really just happen?
He bites on his lip to stop the stubborn smile threatening to take over his face.
He finally manages to make his limbs move, turning back to head to the kitchen. He passes Yeonjun’s table on the way, noticing the untouched Toffee Nut Latte.
It was one of Soobin’s personal favorites.
He huffs, mood souring as he dumps it down the drain.
❄❄❄
Soobin isn’t even supposed to be at work today.
He was supposed to go back to the apartment after his morning lecture, bundle up under the covers and stuff himself with instant noodles, and watch the softly falling snow outside from the comfort of his bedroom.
Instead he’d gotten a panicked call from Huening Kai before he could even step foot into his apartment building, babbling about crumbly gingerbread cookies and the oven breaking and the smoke detector maybe, possibly, just a little bit, going off in the café kitchens.
Soobin had sighed and turned immediately back around.
It’s well into the afternoon when Soobin finally finishes helping Huening Kai, the promise of a day spent as a burrito in bed long gone, dissolved and swept away by the winter chill. He’s dusting off flour from his sleeves, his sweater slightly tacky with sweat from being next to the ovens all afternoon. He’s contemplating staying in the café for a bit and getting a warm drink before braving the cold to walk home.
The café isn’t that busy anymore, only a few tables occupied as a soft bubble of silence insulates the room, only the hissing of the coffee machine punctuating the stillness and the faint hum of the playlist floating in through the speakers.
He should probably be ashamed at how his eyes immediately zero in on Yeonjun as he exits the kitchen, but, well, it’s kind of hard not to, especially when he can still feel the weight of his lips on his cheek and the soft brush of his hair against his face, the way the mistletoe had dangled coaxingly above them, Yeonjun’s eyes playfully flickering at it and pointedly staring at Soobin’s mouth.
As if sensing the gaze on him, Yeonjun looks up. His face breaks out into a bright grin, and he immediately starts waving Soobin over, whose legs apparently have a mind of their own and start making their way to Yeonjun with no hesitation whatsoever.
Soobin freezes when he’s close enough to see what’s on his table.
There’s a mug beside his laptop. Soobin isn’t sure exactly what he’s ordered, but it definitely seems to be something he likes, considering there’s only two sips of it left.
Something in him snaps.
Maybe it’s the frustration of having to work with dough that just won’t cooperate the entire afternoon in a too-warm kitchen. Or the memory of the mistletoe kiss replaying in his head like a torturous, broken record. Or the countless number of drinks he’s had to dump down the drain because nothing is good enough for Yeonjun. But he suddenly finds he can’t take it anymore.
“So you are capable of liking drinks!” Soobin throws his hands up in the air in exasperation as he gestures to Yeonjun’s mug. “Just not the ones I make for you, apparently.”
Yeonjun is staring back at him with wide-eyed confusion. Soobin should probably shut up by now, but the words keep bubbling up in his chest, streaming out of him before he can find the will to stop them.
“I just don’t understand why you keep ordering the holiday specials when you clearly don’t like them. You don’t even take more than a sip most of the time,” Soobin crosses his arms against his chest, frustration bleeding out of him like a coffee stain.
Yeonjun swallows thickly, looking unsure. He bites on his lower lip as if contemplating something, then darts his eyes to the side, staring at the room around them. “It’s not that I don’t like what you make…it’s just…um, maybe we should talk about this somewhere more private?”
Someone clears their throat by the other corner of the café, an old man taking a sip of tea while he pretends he wasn’t listening in on Soobin’s outburst. Yunjin peeks her head out of her book to stare at them, before she quickly darts back behind it. Behind the counter, Huening Kai abruptly spins on the heel of his shoe so he can scurry back into the kitchen to avoid the unravelling spectacle.
The reality of what Soobin has just done crashes into him. His face flushes, embarrassment washing over him. It feels like the room is spinning, and the only thing he can use to anchor himself is Yeonjun’s eyes, staring up at him in concern.
Concern that he definitely doesn’t deserve at this rate.
He turns and does what he does best.
He flees, ignoring Yeonjun calling out after him.
❄❄❄
‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪S’mores Hot Chocolate ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪‧𓍢ִ໋☕
Soobin walks out of his last exam for the year feeling like he can fall into a dreamless twelve hour sleep.
He doesn’t actually get to do that though, because he had, to the surprise of absolutely no one, put off his Christmas shopping once again until the week before Christmas. He’s determined to get it done today, and trudges through the snow and vicious wind to get to the shopping centre.
It’s relatively early on a Tuesday, so he thankfully doesn’t have to fight for his life as he goes through his list of presents for his family and friends. Two hours and five shopping bags later, he feels like he can breathe again. He deposits the bags at his apartment, and makes a mental note to stop by for more wrapping paper after his shift at the café.
His heart lurches with mild discomfort as he makes his way to work.
He and Huening Kai have made an implicit agreement to ignore Soobin’s Yeonjun-induced meltdown on the condition that Kai switches shifts with Soobin on the hours Yeonjun usually comes into the café. In return, Soobin is now in charge of making the café’s batch of gingerbread cookies, because those are Huening Kai’s mortal enemy and the entire reason the oven broke in the first place.
“You’re a coward,” Beomgyu had wasted no time telling him once he’d learned about the incident. From Huening Kai, or possibly Yunjin, or god forbid, maybe even Taehyun.
“I’m not even going to attempt to deny that.” Soobin had mumbled. He’d been wrapped beneath his blankets, his laptop long ago pushed to a corner of his bed, where he’d been ignoring it in favor of staring into space.
“You finally get a chance to sit down and talk to Yeonjun about this coffee mystery and you…run away?”
“I know,” Soobin had sniffled.
Beomgyu had groaned. “God, why won’t you just talk to him? The poor guy has literally been going to the café almost every day to look for you.”
“Really?” Soobin’s face peeked out from his blanket burrito. “Doesn’t he hate me?”
“Well you’re certainly annoying enough,” Beomgyu had mumbled beneath his breath. Soobin didn’t even have the energy to hit him with a pillow. “But for some reason he seems to like that, so.”
“Why would he? I can’t make a single thing he likes and I completely lost it on him. He probably thinks I’m insane.”
Beomgyu had sighed. “You’re going to have to stop hiding at some point, you know.”
Soobin isn’t hiding! In fact, he’s doing the very opposite of that right now as he slides behind the counter and starts up the coffee machine. And sure, he’d specifically chosen this shift because Yeonjun is supposed to have dance practice the whole afternoon today (Beomgyu had supplied him with this information – Soobin does not want to know the details of how, exactly, he’d acquired this from Taehyun), but at least he’d finally gotten out of the clutches of his bed, so he counts this as a win.
His shift starts out as it usually does on the slower days. He spends some time in the kitchen, doing a short inventory check and stealing a few bites of gingerbread cookies. A few customers come and go, but none of them stay for too long, and the spot by the window where Yeonjun used to sit remains vacant.
His chest starts to ache. Maybe…maybe he should just reach out to him. Just suck up the embarrassment and apologize. It isn’t Yeonjun’s fault that Soobin can’t seem to craft anything to his taste, and he can admit, at least to himself, that he misses his presence, and that bright smile on his face, and the pop of color and life he always brought to this place a little more than he thought he would.
The door tinkles open.
A light gust of icy air creeps in, bringing with it a sudden flurry of snowflakes.
Soobin looks up from the counter.
Someone is struggling with their unravelling scarf, its pastel pink edges nearly trailing on the floor. “Fuck,” the person swears as he nearly slips on a puddle of melted snow.
Soobin freezes.
It’s Yeonjun.
He has half a mind to attempt an escape to the kitchen before Yeonjun suddenly locks eyes with him, pink lips parted in shock. “You’re here.” He blinks.
Soobin winces. “Um, well, yes. I work here, so.”
Yeonjun wastes no time walking up to him. “Every other time I’ve shown up here looking for you it was Huening Kai behind the counter.” He narrows his eyes, planting his hands on his hips. “Choi Soobin, have you been avoiding me?”
Soobin sputters out a nervous laugh. “What, pfft, don’t be ridiculous, why would I do that?”
“Really? So your shift schedule just happened to change on a whim?” Yeonjun doesn’t look upset, exactly, but he’s definitely not buying Soobin’s half-baked attempt at lying.
“I was busy with exams,” Soobin mumbles, which is technically only half a lie.
Yeonjun’s eyes soften. “Can we talk? We didn’t exactly get a chance last time…”
Soobin tenses, his nails digging into the skin of his palms, leaving behind crescent-moon marks. Then he deflates with an exhale, like all the air has been punched out of him. Beomgyu was right. He’d have to face Yeonjun eventually. He smiles wryly. “Because I ran away,” he points out. “Sorry about that, by the way. Not one of my finest moments.”
They take a seat by the window, at Yeonjun’s favorite corner. Their knees knock into each other beneath the table, close enough that Soobin can see fine snowflakes clinging to Yeonjun’s eyelashes and the bow of his lips. It reminds him of the first time Yeonjun had walked into the café those weeks ago, haloed by the soft winter light and the powdery fall of snow.
“I don’t hate the drinks you make, Soobin,” Yeonjun starts out. He’s fiddling with the material of his gloves almost nervously, like he’s stalling for time.
“You don’t have to lie, I won’t be offended,” Soobin mumbles. “I think I’ve got that out of my system already,” he says with a small smile.
Yeonjun bites on his bottom lip. “I’m not lying, it’s just that…” Then he takes a deep breath, blurting out the next stream of words in one go, “I’m allergic to coffee.”
Soobin stares at him blankly, wondering if he’s misheard. It takes him another few moments to process it. “What?” he yelps. “Oh my god, Yeonjun. You could have died!”
“It’s not fatal!” Yeonjun shakes his head, trying to reassure him. “It’s very irritating, though. It makes my mouth itch and even gives me headaches sometimes.”
Soobin gapes at him, completely dumbfounded. “Why on earth did you keep ordering coffee then?”
Yeonjun slumps back against his seat, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. His piercings clink against each other like the tinkling of silver windchimes. The shells of his ears are red. “Because you looked so happy and proud talking about the Christmas specials. I really wanted to give them a try. Each time I hoped my allergic reaction somehow wouldn’t be that bad, that I’d actually get to drink it. But the most I can manage is a few sips before I start to itch.” He pouts miserably, eyes downcast and frustrated.
Soobin is silent for a few beats, feeling at a loss for words, his memories of the past few weeks completely reshifting and taking new shape in his head. This entire time Yeonjun was suffering just to…make him happy? Warmth settles in his chest, a light flush dusting over his cheeks.
“There’s so many other things I could have made you,” Soobin points out, more than a little flustered. “Chai lattes, apple cider, hot chocolate…”
Yeonjun sighs. “I know. I was dumb. I just wanted to see that excited smile on your face and…and I kept coming back because I wanted to see you again.”
Soobin fiddles with the sleeves of his sweater, feeling like his entire face is on fire. Did somebody turn up the heating in the café overnight? “Oh, um. Really?”
Yeonjun shoots him a wry, amused look. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“I’m historically horrible at noticing things,” Soobin mumbles.
Yeonjun blinks at him. “I literally kissed you under the mistletoe.”
“I just thought you were feeling extra festive that day,” Soobin buries his face in his hands.
“Jesus,” Yeonjun giggles. “We’re both kind of idiots, aren’t we?”
Soobin makes a decision. He stands up from his seat. “Let me make you some hot chocolate.”
“Um,” Yeonjun trails off. “Right now?”
“It’s the least I can do for you.” Soobin makes his way to the counter, gathering up the cocoa powder and marshmallows from the pantry. “You don’t have any other allergies, do you?”
“Just the one.” Yeonjun sighs tragically.
It only takes Soobin a few minutes to heat up the milk. He adds in some chunks of dark chocolate too for extra flavor, as well as a dollop of cookie butter and vanilla. He tops it off with some toasted marshmallows.
“Here.” Soobin pushes the mug over to Yeonjun’s side of the table, feeling weirdly shy. He tries not to stare too much at Yeonjun’s face as he takes a sip, but he finds it really hard not to, because it’s an exceptionally pretty face, made even prettier by the smile that slowly spreads over his lips at the first hint of chocolate, at the way his eyes brighten and sparkle.
“I love it,” Yeonjun grins.
Soobin laughs. “You’ve now got a chocolate mustache.”
Yeonjun purses his lips playfully. “Don’t you think it makes me look manly?”
“It kind of makes you look like an idiot.”
Yeonjun pouts.
“An idiot that I want to kiss.”
Soobin can’t believe he just said that. But he’s feeling brave today, and Christmas is fast approaching, and he thinks he’s finally got an idea of the one thing he wants on his wishlist.
One person, to be exact.
Yeonjun carefully settles the mug back down on the table. He gives Soobin a challenging look. “Then why don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Soobin teases. He gestures playfully to the mistletoe still above the café door, dangling amidst the fairy lights. “We’re not under a mistletoe right now, so…”
It’s the last proper thought his brain manages to create before it abruptly shuts down. Yeonjun’s hands are cupping his face, warm from the heat of the drink, staring intently into Soobin’s eyes. Their lips meet halfway, Yeonjun’s hair tickling at his jawline, his fingers trailing down the back of Soobin’s neck like a whisper. Soobin can smell his shampoo, citrusy and fresh, and that indescribable scent of winter and snowfall lingering on his skin. His lips taste like marshmallows and chocolate. Soobin chases after his mouth for more, feeling desperate and wanting.
He doesn’t know how long they spend trading kisses in the café, oblivious to the steadily piling snow outside, to the slowly darkening winter sky and the Christmas lights twinkling to life out on the street.
They eventually pull away from each other, faces flushed and fingers intertwined.
Yeonjun lifts a finger to his red and swollen mouth as if in disbelief. “So that was definitely worth all the allergic reactions I’ve had since meeting you.”
Soobin giggles. “Please stop trying to make me happy by ordering coffee. I will gladly make you whatever drink you want.”
Yeonjun blinks up at him playfully. “And if I want something else? A barista obsessed with Christmas and holiday drinks, perhaps?”
“You already have me,” Soobin whispers, bridging the gap between them once more.