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Working at the university café was Soonyoung’s favorite part-time job. Adore Brew wasn’t big and it was always packed, but it was nothing like the chaos of his weekend shifts at the Korean barbecue place outside campus.
The bell above the door chimed every few minutes and the hiss of the espresso machine never really stopped. The café stayed alive with its regular customers: students reviewing and cramming their plates, professors grading in the corner, group projects dissolving into whispered arguments about how many holes a straw has, and the occasional couple that somehow found the time for a date.
Soonyoung liked it here. The hours were semi-flexible, the tips were decent, and the view… well, the view wasn’t bad either.
Case in point: the door just swung open and Lee Jihoon walked in.
Another date? Soonyoung thought as he locked in the portafilter.
Jihoon was practically a regular by now. He always ordered an americano, hot or iced depending on the weather, before settling into the table by the window. The one that somehow cleared up for him every time and perfectly in view from the counter, right in Soonyoung’s line of sight. As if he needed the help, he’d look at Jihoon every chance he got anyway.
Jihoon never stayed alone for long. Each time, a different guy would show up, all of them carrying the same eager energy. This has been going on for months now. And it ended the same every time: polite smiles and quick goodbyes, Jihoon leaving alone just as he came.
Soonyoung didn’t know who kept setting these up but it was obvious they were blind dates. Jihoon never seemed invested, most of the time he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. When the silence stretched, his gaze would wander—over the windows, the counter, anywhere but his date. And every so often, it landed briefly on Soonyoung.
He told himself not to think too much about it. But the same thought lingered every time, why did Jihoon keep showing up if he wasn’t interested in any of them?
☕️
The truth was simpler than it looked. Jihoon never planned these dates himself. His closest friends, Jeonghan and Joshua, did.
They insisted he needed it. That he couldn’t keep hiding in studios and lecture halls, then tagging along with them like a third wheel. Every time they went out together, Jihoon somehow ended up across the table from them, poking at his food while they shared fries and looked at each other like no one else existed.
“You’ve got to get out more,” Jeonghan said. “And not just with us.”
Joshua was gentler. “They already like you, Jihoon. All you have to do is show up.”
So it began. One date, then another, and then more.
Jihoon went because it was easier than arguing, his friends wouldn’t let it go. And maybe, he thought, if he kept trying, something might eventually click and then he wouldn’t just be stuck as Jeonghan and Joshua’s permanent third wheel.
Maybe they could even go on double dates.
But nothing did, no one ever did.
☕️
Jihoon had been showing up like this for months now, one date after another. Same table, same coffee, different faces, always the same ending.
The first real rain of the semester came down hard that afternoon, streaking the café windows. Jihoon came in after stowing away his pink umbrella, ordered a hot americano, and sat down at his usual spot.
The door chimed again a few minutes later and Choi Seungcheol walked in with the presence you would expect from the student council president.
He spotted Jihoon right away.
“Sorry I’m late. The budget meeting ran over again.”
Jihoon nods his head, calm as ever. “I figured. You’re a busy guy.”
That drew a warm, slightly sheepish laugh from Seungcheol, before he launched into talk about spirit week, funding proposals, and committee debates. His voice carried, full of energy and conviction, the kind that could rally a room.
Jihoon listened quietly, stirring his coffee before setting the spoon aside. When he did speak, it was short, practical suggestions about keeping schedules manageable and about not overcomplicating things.
It made Seungcheol smile wider. “See, that’s what I mean. I run myself ragged, and you… someone like you would be perfect by my side.”
Jihoon returned the smile, polite but distant. His gaze drifted past Seungcheol, toward the counter, as if already elsewhere.
When Soonyoung walked by to drop napkins on the next table, Jihoon’s eyes lifted for just a moment. Not long enough for anyone else to notice, but clear enough for Soonyoung to read: Seungcheol was a good guy. Just not his guy.
☕️
Weeks passed. The rains eased, leaving behind heavy humidity that clung to the air. The café was filled with students escaping the heat, iced americanos sweating on every table.
This time it was Kim Mingyu who showed up, all varsity charm, broad shoulders, and a smile bright enough to light up the entire café. He sat down, set his drink on the table, and immediately knocked it over, spilling it everywhere.
“Shit- sorry!” Mingyu scrambled for napkins, reaching for Jihoon’s phone and notebook like he could somehow undo the disaster that just happened. He froze mid-fluster, cheeks pink, then blurted, “You have really nice hands, though.”
Jihoon froze, then let out a short laugh. “…uh, thanks.”
Behind the counter, Soonyoung almost choked on his own grin. Jihoon’s eyes flicked toward him, lips pressed together as he held back another laugh, before turning back to Mingyu.
Mingyu was earnest. Endearing, even. He filled the air with chatter about practice schedules, teammates, and late-night ramen runs. Jihoon listened, smiling politely, but he never leaned in.
When Mingyu finally stood to leave for practice, he waved with that same bright grin. Jihoon folded his napkin into neat squares, his americano barely touched.
Soonyoung caught himself thinking about the look Jihoon had given him across the room—small, shared, unspoken—and it stuck longer than he wanted it to.
☕️
By the time Wonwoo showed up, the air had shifted, a little cooler than usual. Not cold, but the kind of weather that made a hot drink feel better in your hands.
Jihoon slipped inside, rubbing his palms together before settling into his usual spot. Wonwoo arrived not long after, hoodie on, camera strap slung across his chest. He gave a small smile and sat down with a quiet, “Hey.”
Their conversation moved slowly. Jihoon mentioned the tracks he was producing for class, how most of his nights blurred into recording sessions in the studio. Wonwoo talked about his photography gigs, the deadlines stacking up in his software classes, and the video games he played when he needed to turn his brain off. His voice was calm, steady, a little reserved.
At one point, he glanced at Jihoon and said, “If you ever need photos for your music, just let me know.”
Jihoon raised an eyebrow, surprised, but nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
For once, he didn’t feel the urge to leave right away. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable; it sat with the hum of the café and the clink of mugs around them.
Still, it never quite clicked. Wonwoo hesitated often, and Jihoon couldn’t tell if he was holding back or just distracted.
Eventually, Wonwoo checked the time on his phone. “There’s an LCK match tonight. My friends are hosting a viewing party, so I should head out.” He hesitated, then added, “This was nice, though.” He offered Jihoon a small smile before getting up to leave.
Jihoon didn’t leave right away. He sat with his coffee until it went cold.
From behind the counter, Soonyoung thought: almost, but not quite.
☕️
The next time, no one joins Jihoon.
An hour passed. He hunched over his phone, scrolling idly, shoulders tight like he was just waiting for an excuse to leave.
Soonyoung checked the clock. Five minutes left on his shift.
He untied his apron, grabbed a mug of his own, and crossed the floor before he could think better of it.
“Is this seat taken?”
Jihoon looked up, startled. “Not really.”
Soonyoung slid into the chair without waiting. “Good. Because watching you sit through date after date here has been driving me insane.”
Jihoon blinked, then laughed, low and startled. “You noticed?”
“Hard not to,” Soonyoung said. “Every time it’s some guy trying too hard while you look two seconds from bolting. You really that into blind dates?”
Jihoon sighed, thumb tracing the rim of his cup. “Not really. My friends keep setting them up. They said I should give these guys a chance since they already like me.”
“And you?” Soonyoung leaned in, a grin tugging at his lips. “Do you like any of them back?”
Jihoon shook his head. “They’re nice, but no. I thought maybe if I tried hard enough and kept going to these, I’d find someone I clicked with. But I still haven’t.”
“That’s because you’ve been wasting your time with the wrong people. How about you stop letting your friends pick, and let me take you out instead?”
Jihoon stared at him, caught between disbelief and amusement. “…You’re not on their list.”
“Exactly,” Soonyoung said, bold and certain. “I don’t want to be on their list. I just want to be on yours.”
For a moment, Jihoon only looked at him.
His eyes wandered briefly toward the counter, like he’d done a hundred times before, then back to Soonyoung.
Jihoon narrowed his eyes slightly. “You’ve been watching all my dates just to say that now?”
Soonyoung grinned. “I’ve been suffering through them.”
Jihoon huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. He lingered as if he were testing the feeling. There was no urge to leave, no polite excuse forming, just something easy settling in its place.
“…Sure.”
+
Across campus that same evening, Dokyeom cursed under his breath beside his bike, the flat tire hissing against the pavement. He had been on his way to Adore Brew, running late for a blind date he never felt quite ready for.
“Need a hand?”
Kim Mingyu jogged over, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, still flushed from practice. He crouched to inspect the tire, grinning. “Good timing. I’m pretty good with these.”
Dokyeom laughed, a little sheepish. “Guess my date’s over before it even started.”
Mingyu looked up, smile softening. “Maybe not. We can grab dinner instead?”
A light drizzle pattered around them, streetlights glowing faint against the damp pavement.
And for once, neither of them was late.