Chapter Text
Wifies is a normal college boy, living a normal college life. He has routines he follows, has people he talks to, and his grades never went below 95%. Each day has different routines, but they all something in common.
He always, without fail, goes to the same coffee shop and order the same drink.
The cafe he frequents is a quaint one, filled with warm tones and the lingering scent of coffee. It’s a cozy place, to put it simply. Or Instagram-worthy. But, Wifies has another reason as to why keeps going back.
The barista.
The barista — called Derapchu — is a bright, optimistic guy. He smiles constantly, and not just a customer service smile but a genuine one that always brightens the room. He has long, fluffy brown hair that sticks up, and Wifies can tell that he tried to tame them down with no avail. His eyes are heterochromatic, one warm chocolate brown and the other the blue of clear skies. He remembers every regular and their order. And no matter how busy it gets or if there is a difficult customer, he never drops that charming smile.
But before ever meeting at the cafe, Wifies had already noticed Derapchu. Their fateful first meeting was in a Library. They had accidentally bumped into each other and awkwardly apologised. At the time, Wifies only thought nothing of him, like he did to everyone. But coincidentally, they kept running into each other—although not literally. It happened so many times to the point that they somehow started recognising each other.
They weren’t close, per se, more so acquaintances that wave when they see each other and never seek out. At some point, Wifies had started observing him closely. He couldn’t tell you why or how this started, just that it did. He started filing away information that he notices. What coffee brand he’s drinking, what clothes he wore that day, where he lingers during free time. Normal things that anyone with eyes can see.
Then, he started looking for information. Derapchu’s major—computer science, the brand of headphones he wears—it’s JBL, which side of the library he gravitates toward—the east side, what time he usually gets to campus—9:45 on average, how he laughs depending on who he’s with, his course schedule, which professors he has, his GPA—around 3.2 based on his calculations, what clubs he’s in, his phone wallpaper—his schedule, which also how Wifies knew it, what he’s watching—a lot of anime, some of his hobbies, his hometown, his favourite season—spring, what his handwriting looks like, how he signs his name, what is in his bag approximately, his sleep schedule, the hex code colour of his eyes—#3C2D20 and #8DBDD5.
Any information regarding Derapchu that was available, Wifies knew. He has convinced himself that is normal behaviour and totally not obsessive in any way shape or form. Totally.
…
Wifies is a psychology major, of course he knows this is obsessive behaviour. Who is he kidding?
That is why when Wifies heard they were hiring, he jumped at the chance. Even though he doesn’t need the money.
Really, who can blame him for wanting to see more of Derapchu?
“Oh! Wifies, right?” Derapchu says as soon as he sees Wifies in uniform. “You’re the new hire?”
Wifies offers a simple nod. “It seemed like a good fit.”
Derapchu chuckles. A short, breathy one that’s gone too quickly. “I understand. I was the same as you when I started working here.” His eyes crinkle slightly, his amused smile still on even after the laugh ended. Wifies files the moment somewhere in his mind along with all the other Derapchu related memories.
“Well, since I’m the one here first, I guess I’ll tell you how to work the different machines. Ok, so first, this is the grinder…” Derapchu explains each machine thoroughly, showcasing every feature, mode, or button it has. Wifies is only half-listening, more focused on Derapchu than what he’s saying.
His hair that is usually tied up, is currently let loose. Derapchu’s hair isn’t long, just longer than most guys. It’s like a mullet, with a few ends long enough to graze his chin. He’s wearing the uniform—just a black t-shirt and a green apron with the shop’s logo yet he makes it look like he’s on a runway. The shirt is loose and the apron is tied nicely around his waist. His face is the essence of calm, yet the ever present smile ghosts his lips. A few sun beams filtered through the window hitting Derapchu perfectly, giving him a soft golden glow. He looks beautiful.
“—You got all that?” Wifies breaks out of his trance and nods.
“Good!” Derapchu flashes him a blinding smile. “You’ll mostly just shadow me today and help during rushes, you fine with that?”
“Yeah.” Derapchu nods and goes to do some general cleaning with Wifies doing the same. A few minutes later, Derapchu flips the sign on the door to open.
“Just watch how I do stuff and later on when the morning rush ends you can practice.” The moment he finishes saying that, a bell jingles as the door opens. Derapchu spins around, a warm smile already on his lips.
“Good morning Lizzie! Your usual again today?”
“Morning Derapchu!” A bubbly woman with pink hair—Lizzie—says. “Yes, just that again.” Derapchu quickly punches it in the cash register then promptly shows her the total to which she pays. Wifies watches intently as Derapchu flits around the area and different machines, taking note of how he does everything. In a short amount of time, a perfect ocean latte is done. Lizzie says her thanks and sits down on a chair by a window.
Derapchu taps his fingers on the counter, looking around absentmindedly. “Ah! Wifies, come here.” He looks over his shoulder and finds Wifies behind him. “You should know how to use the register.” He then explains and presents the machine with the same care as before, asking every now and then if Wifies is following.
“And.. that’s about it!” Coincidentally, the bell chimes again. Another customer walks in.
“Here, you try.” Derapchu steps to the side. He gestures at Wifies to take his place. He does. He looks up and gives the customer a subtle smile.
“Hello.” I hate social interaction. “What may I get you?”
“Iced Americano, please.”
“That will be $5.50” They hand him the exact amount. Derapchu takes a cup and starts making their drink swiftly, already done in a few minutes.
Another customer comes. Then another. It doesn’t take long for a line to form and the morning rush to start. The two of them settle into a rhythm, Wifies at the counter and Derapchu making the drinks. An hour or so, the amount of people in the cafe dwindle enough for them to take a break.
“Alright,” Derapchu says as he stretches. “The next person who comes in, you’ll make their order.” Comfortable silence envelops them for a few minutes. Wifies may or may not used this short reprieve to watch Derapchu out of the corner of his eye. It’s broken by telltale sound of the door opening.
“Hannah! Good to see you!” Derapchu immediately turns to her beaming.
“Hi Derapchu! Hi too, Wifies!” Hannah waves at the them. She hums, glancing at the menu. “I think I’ll try the.. pretty in pink today.”
Derapchu looks at him in a way that urges him to make the drink.
Wifies steps away the register. He’s watched Derapchu make approximately forty seven drinks today. He knows the process.
He locates the ingredients, measures carefully, follows the steps in order.
It takes him longer than it would take Derapchu. But it comes out correct.
Hannah takes a sip. Her eyes widen slightly. “Oh, this is really good!”
Derapchu glances at the drink, then at Wifies, with an expression that’s hard to read. “…not bad for your first try.”
Wifies says nothing. He already knew it would be fine.
The rest of the shift passes without incident.
Wifies settles into the rhythm of it — counter, orders, the occasional drink when Derapchu directs him to. He’s efficient. Derapchu tells him he picks things up fast. Wifies says thank you and doesn’t mention that he’s been paying attention to how this place runs for longer than today.
It’s nearing the end of the shift when he notices it.
Not anything specific. Just — something. A deviation from baseline.
Derapchu is the same as always on the surface. Warm with customers, remembers every name, never drops the smile. But twice now Wifies has caught him glancing at his bag behind the counter — quick, almost imperceptible, the kind of look you give something you’re making sure is still there. And once, during a lull, he checked his phone with slightly more purpose than casual scrolling.
Wifies watches him from the corner of his eye.
He knows Derapchu. Probably better than Derapchu knows himself, which is a sentence he will never say out loud. And something about the energy today is — off. Not wrong. Just. Different. Like there’s something running underneath the usual frequency that Derapchu is actively keeping contained.
He can’t pinpoint what. And that bothers him more than it should.
Wifies is a psychology major. He knows what this looks like.
Derapchu is hiding something. Like a secret.
And being unable to not know everything about Derapchu, he formulates a plan.
Wifies will find out what Derapchu is hiding.