Chapter Text
____
Winter was right around the corner and the air was starting to get chilly enough to be noticeable.
The store was able to grant a warm and hearty atmosphere for anyone wanting to take a brief break from the cold. Something Jisung has catered to multiple times by now.
The low purring of the machines was a melody he was all too familiar with, having opened up the cafe two years ago.
He was able to get the place in a spot that fit his standard by some miracle ; sunny lighting, a park nearby, the building not being fully centered in the busy district of the city but not too far away from it either.
The best part about the whole ordeal was the man he had bought it over from, at the lowest possible price in said crumbling economy. A man who was so self-centered and egotistical in his ways that he completely ignored Jisung as he tried to explain to him that he was charging way below the market value. Trying to be the good role model person his parents raised him to be.
Unsuprisingly, the old geezer didn’t listen to him.
And by that point, Jisung had taken it as a sign to just shut up and take the blaring blessing being thrown into his face, regardless of it being fair and what not. Which in turn, had actually saved his university-self from going into debt way before he even took a step into the workforce world.
And now, it’s become a staple around the neighborhood. A symbol of his pride and joy, with regulars he’s come to personally know and care for throughout the years.
Although-
There was one regular who had caught the attention of Jisung in a rather unprofessional manner.
And it was for entirely unconventional reasons that said regular made Jisung aware of his existence in the first place.
Right when the clock strikes 12 AM does his sleep-deprived fairy arrive. Announcing his presence with the jingle of the bell hanging over the door and the smacks of his flip-flops against the marble floor.
It's almost traitorous how Jisung immediately breaks into a smile whenever Minho walks into the room. He doesn't know how successful he is whenever he tries to hide it.
“Is the cold bothering your bones, ahjussi?”
“I'm only three years older than you, brat.” Jisung chuckles at the faux scowl pressing on Minho's forehead.
He was dressed in his usual fit, a large trench coat tied around his waist, hiding the kuromi-themed pajamas he was actually wearing underneath. His brown hair was messy and fell over his eyes in a way that was surely criminal with how good it looked.
And, unfortunately for Jisungs sanity, he was wearing his golden-rimmed glasses today, perched perfectly on the bridge of his perfect nose.
A weakness of Jisung that he, apparently, hasn't been able to hide that well, considering the older has been wearing them almost constantly nowadays, opting against the contact lenses he wears from time to time. Looking far too pleased with the way he focuses on them for a second too long.
If it hasn't been obvious already, you see, Jisung has the smallest, tiniest, the most wee bit of a crush on Minho.
Said man who’s standing infront of him and browsing the pastries as if Jisung doesn't already know what his usual order is.
As if he hasn't spent every night in the same cafe for the whole year.
As if Jisung isn't irrecoverably in love with him and obsessed with his every move.
Jisung sighs in an exaggerating manner, “What can I get you, ahjussi?” letting Minho have his bit. Who in return, keeps up the act and orders three whole desserts. Knowing damn well that he's not gonna finish any of them anytime soon. Which is a gimmick in itself that he’s been playing around for awhile now.
It's not like Jisung hasn't questioned him multiple times as to why he does such thing, especially after finding out that the older doesn’t even have that much of a sweet tooth to begin with in the first place.
Minho, who just blinks at Jisung in an incredulous manner in response. As if he’s missing a very crucial part of a puzzle he doesn’t know he’s building.
Of course, he has his own running theories. Or delusions, as he likes to call it, regardless of the amount of times Jeongin and Felix have said otherwise.
Sure, Minho’s his type and he’s 99% sure that the affection is reciprocated aswell. But it's just that singular percentage that keeps him from opening his mouth and blabbering his confession all over the place.
Like any reasonable person, he doesn’t trust himself in the romantic department. Not even the slightest bit.
And so he keeps shut. Waiting for the much more sensible one between the two to do something about the predicament they’re in.
Though luckly for him, when it comes down to the predicament of the desserts department, Jisung is the equivalent of a vacuum.
That doesn’t stop him from complaining though.
“Hyung-nim, you know you have to stop getting stuff if you're not going to eat it.” He complains, huffing dramatically. He totals in the order and moves to grab the sweets. “I swear I'm gonna talk to the manager one day and get you banned from here.”
Jisung is the owner of the cafe. Jisung is lying about perma-banning the star of his day.
Minho knows that all too well, with the way his face contours up into a stupid smirk. With the way he cocks his eyebrows in a condescending manner at Jisung, only humming in response. Which feels highly inappropriate in terms of the types of eyecontact that are accepatable outdoors, and most definitely does not send sparks down his spine and-
Ugh. Whatever.
Minho didn't believe him. Shocker.
Also, even though he says one thing, Jisung was a hypocrite at heart.
Despite his whining, he was already done plating the olders order ; an almond brownie, a slice of carrot cake, and a cheesecake slice. He added a cup of hot chamomile tea for him as well. Felix had been going through a tea-phase recently and apparently chamomile helps in a goodnights sleep.
Minho hums, rocking on his heels. He peers over the counter, ignoring Jisungs attempt at swatting him away like a fly. “Where's Jeongin-ah?” he says, looking towards the back. Jisung didn’t attempt to stop the way he rolled his eyes.
“Why? Missing him already?”
“Of-course not. You know i’m only here for you, Jagiya,” he smirks. For extra brownie points, he throws a cheeky wink at Jisung, who accepts it with mild disdain.
“Very suavé of you, hyung,” he snorts, deliberately ignoring the way the back of his neck warmed up.
If it were any other person flirting, they would be met with the most dead expression Jisung’s face could ever muster up, with a thinly-veiled threat to never do that again on the side.
“How many other victims have you used that line on?”
He comes from behind the counter with the food in hand, Minho trailing behind him. The two settle in their usual spots besides the window, which gives a clear view outside to the cold night.
Jisung takes a bite from the cheesecake slice, which was clearly intended for him in the first place. The texture was smooth and creamy, and he couldn't help but love the twinkle of pride he gets over his own creations every time he tries one.
“Only the cute ones,” Minho jokes back. He even does some aegyo, throwing a ‘kya~’ in an anime voice, despite nobody asking him to do so.
As if he's expecting rose-filled backgrounds, sparkles and VFXs, and a banger opening to show up like in those shoujo animes they always talk about. As if.
Jisung blinks. His ears heat up.
Wow. The sleep deprivation must be really getting to his Hyung.
Obviously, since its Minho, and because he's somehow able to breathe life into the-secret-highschool-girl-yearning-for-a-romance side of Jisung’s that he's desperately tried to bury in the past, he gets a pass with the absurd pickup-lines.
It doesn't mean that Jisung doesn't blanche over the fact that it really does work on him. Making him blush and giggle and kick his feet at night and all that at his old age.
Ignoring whatever that was, Jisung refocuses on his slice and let's out a soft groan, washing the taste down with the cup of coffee he made for himself, as comfortable silence falls between the two once again.
Across the table, Minho digs into his carrot cake slice, humming in approval at the taste.
“Tasty as always, Jisungie.” He hooks his feet around Jisungs ankle, swinging them leisurely.
“I know.”
The pretty blues of the sky wash over him, painting him in such a sight that Jisung can't help but sigh upon in awe as he looks up.
Minho's the prettiest man he's ever seen and it never fails to catch him off-guard.
____
Minho hasn't been able to sleep properly for the past few days.
He's been expecting the cycle to catch up to him, as it usually does, but he's still tired. Caught off guard every single time, even though he's gone through the entire process his whole life.
He's so damn tired. His body refusing to rest regardless of everything he's tried to get it to stop. All the herbal remedies, massages, therapy sessions etcetra etcetra. All of it, to no avail.
Even Hyunjin recommended him the melatonin gummies he used to knock himself out with back in his university days out of consideration. All because of the countless times he's almost passed out of fear when he caught Minho on the couch of their apartments lounge in pure darkness, staring at anything and nothing at the same time.
In his words, ”You look like a corpse. Or a ghoul, or like- something seriously creepy, hyung. It's scary.” Rude.
Unsurprisingly, the gummies didn't work, though it was a thoughtful gesture he appreciated nonetheless. Most of the times it left Minho feeling groggy and drugged rather than rested.
Something he didn't appreciate when he had a 9-5 job the next morning. Which lead him to the belief that being on the brink of passing out was a seemingly better option instead.
It was one of the main reasons why he bought a snug little house. A place where he can lounge like a zombie where ever he wants, at whatever time he wants. The only downside being it was in the middle of a shopping district. Which meant no peace or quiet in the mornings when he usually dozed off. But he was willing to take the risk with how cheap the thing was.
Truthfully, he doesn't even know how his inability to sleep started in the first place.
If he were to recall his earliest memory of said nuisance, it would trace back to the early years of his adolescence, when he developed the fear of falling asleep. Only being able to pass out from exhaustion as dawn approached.
He didn't really tell anyone about it, chalking it up to something that'll probably pass on with time, which in hindsight, was foolish of him to think considering it didn't really work.
Though it didn't go under the radar for his parents, who immediately picked up on the dark under eyes and daytime tiredness. Also from the countless times he sleepwalked into his parents room in the middle of the night, looming over them and bringing them halfway to death in pure darkness. Because of that, it's become an inside joke his mother teases him with in front of his aunt's. Or more so a humiliation ritual as he likes to call it.
It got better over the years, though. His body creating a pattern for him to follow through with. So he can't really say he wasn't expecting the fatigue nor the sleepless nights to arrive.
And now he's unable to sleep for almost a week every two to three months, just like old times sake. Sure it's episodic, but it effects him just as much as it did when he was twelve.
One good thing that came out of his situation was the fact that he now had ample time to do random stuff his lucid-self wouldn't normally be interested in. Also because he's an adult without a curfew now.
Knitting and crocheting. Running 5km jogs or up till dawn if it's the weekend. Fixing broken things around the house, something his neighbours didn't really appreciate. Finishing books overnight, baking twelve batches of oatmeal cookies in a week. Hell, he's even tried a pottery class at 2 AM. Anything to get him tired enough for the mere chance of passing out.
Needless to say, nothing truly put him to a good-nights sleep.
And he's made peace with it. It wasn't something he could control, clearly, so he's decided to let go of the grudge he’d put up against himself. His complaining didn't deter with his acceptance though, something well-known to the people around him. Mainly a peculiar Hyunjin and Chan being the prime victim to his zombie-esque state.
However, if there's truly one thing that he's grateful for that came out of his condition-
It was him meeting the cute boy working in the cafe down the street.
When they'd met, it was a calm night for once. No cars or barking of street dogs. Peaceful quietness as the world drifted off into slumber.
He was talking a stroll, about to reach his daily 10k steps when, having rounded the block a second time, Minho was reminded of the cafe that he was slowly approaching, taking his earbuds out at the same time.
He peered inside, surprised to find it open despite there being no customers. How did he miss this place even though he lives on the same block?
If he remembers correctly, the place was recommended to him by Hyunjin. Not because of its pastries or coffees, but because of the ‘hottie with the dimples working there.’
Unsurprisingly, Minho's not interested.
He doesn't want to burden another person with his condition. Something that's been explicitly voiced out by his previous relationships far too many times for his liking.
But it doesn't stop him from trying out a new cafe. He’ll be able to mark another one down on his already growing list of shops he's tried out during nocturnal mode.
The inside was filled with the scent of freshly baked goods, which surprised him considering it was about to be dawn soon and most stores barely had anything reasonable to eat around this time. The cafe had a warm ambience that contrasted with the chilly outside, something he could feel seep into his bones.
Minho approaches the counter, the aroma of the pastries causing his stomach to growl. An itch in the name of a midnight craving barrelled through. Sure, he might be on a diet, but a single treat doesn't hurt him, does it? Before he could start slobbering all over the counter, a clatter of dishes jolts him out of his trance.
A voice shouted out, “I'll be with you in a moment!”
After a few more rustles of dishes falling, a man stepped out from behind the counter, who looked like he was about to trip over his own feet at any given moment.
Long wavy curls, an apron- with an embroidered capybara sipping out of a pink cup- covering his lithe frame, and cute soft brown eyes.
“Welcome, what can I get you?”
Shit. The man was totally his type. Minho silently curses himself.
All of a sudden, he's conscious about the grimy look he knows he's dressed in ; his greasy hair covering his eyes, an old bomber jacket and black pants topped with a cap. The combo he's wearing an insult to the angel in-front of him.
Not the type of look he can recover from at all.
From an outsiders perspective, Minho wouldn't be surprised if someone thought he was a robber on a mission.
“Um, sir?” The kind tone of the man was wavering, apprehension covering his face at the silence. Minho's not surprised at the reaction.
“Sorry- um, I'll just take a latte,” he coughs out, ears flushing out of embarrassment.
The man clicks down on the register. “Sure, would you like anything else?”
“Uh, anything you would recommend?” Many pastries were out on display and choosing one seemed like a hassle when his attention was on something else entirely.
Whether they were fresh or not, he doesn't know, though they look good regardless. He's not picky with the sweets he chooses.
The man perks at the question, a sparkle twinkling in his eyes as he points down towards the display.
“Do you have more of a savoury or sweet tooth? I'd personally recommend our Pain-Au-Chocolate. It pairs really well with our coffee and, luckily for you, I've just taken them out of the oven a few minutes ago so they should still be warm.” He flashes a smile at Minho who instantly falls in love with it.
The time was around 4 AM last time he checked, and if he is to rack his limited knowledge about croissants, the guy must've been working for quite a few hours already.
Minho meekly orders just that and takes a seat near the window. The seats were padded which was a bonus, and the whirring of the machines and rustling of paper made him loosen up when it usually did the opposite, keeping him in check.
The windows were also open which was something he hasn't seen before in any other place he's been to. Yet, the chilly breeze paired with the cosiness inside was enough for him to unwind, eyes fluttering shut as he leans back against the chair.
A knock on the table made him flinch awake. The pretty boy was leaning against the table. Minho didn't hear him approaching. He doesn't know how muc time had passed since he closed his eyes.
“You must be really tired, huh?” He let's out a light chuckle at the reaction, setting Minho's order down.
Minho flushes. “I don't- I don't doze off, or anything like that. Usually.” How embarrassing.
With another cute chuckle, the man sits down in the seat in front of him, taking him by surprise. He offers his hand with a smile,
“I’m Jisung. Nice to meet you.”
His voice was a velvety level of softness. Minho blinks. It wouldn't hurt to indulge a hallucination, right?
Minho tentatively shakes his hand, the warmth lingering for a second too long on his palm.
“Minho,” he mumbles out like the loser he is. Clearly, he's not on his game. Otherwise he would've swooped the guy home. Probably. Maybe. Maybe not.
He directs his attention towards the food on the table, feeling far too flustered from the attention of the other for no apparent reason.
Said man who's staring at him, well more like his soul, a tad bit too hard for no apparent reason either.
Minho bites into the flaky pastry. He's not the biggest fan of chocolate, but he instantly knew that he'd absolutely be ordering the pastry again.
It seems like his reaction was obvious, considering Jisung mumbled out a soft ‘Cute’ that his ears definitely picked up on.
He doesn't know what to make of that so he rightfully stays silent. Ignorance is a bliss after all.
“So. What brings you here this late at night, Minho-ssi?” He takes a sip from his cup, which Minho only recently noticed when the other spoke.
“Wouldn't it be considered morning by now,” he questions, aiming for a joke, which he isn't sure on whether it landed or not since it was actually morning.
“Hmmm, semantics.” Another sip. “I suppose you're right. So, what brings you here in the early morning?” Jisung questions back, batting his eyelashes in curiosity.
In the soft glow of the cafe, his already round features look even softer than before. Almost like a squishy Minho wanted to touch and squeeze and kis-
Focus.
He blurts out the first thing he can think of,
“I can't sleep.”
Way to go, Lee Minho.
Jisung blinks at him for a second, the corner of his lips curling upwards just the slightest bit, almost as if he's hiding a smile.
He swallows before nodding, “Did something happen to you for that, or... ?”
Minho breaks out of freeze-mode. He rubs his face, “No-no, God, I don't know why I'm acting like this,” he coughs out. “I'm actually an insomniac so that's why I was wandering around.”
Great. Now it just makes him sound like a weirdo creeping in people's business.
Minho prays Jisung doesn't perceive him like that.
To clarify, he rushes to add, "I mean I've had episodic insomnia since I was a kid. So I've started spending my time doing random stuff. Majority of the times, I only head to sleep whenever my body agrees to."
“Ahhh I see..” Jisung nods in acknowledgement. “It's just that I haven't seen you around here before so I got a bit curious that's all.”
“Do you usually get a lot of customers around this time?”
“No not really,” Jisung hums and looks around, “Sometimes the occasional uni-students pop up. Or the corporate workers. But, generally speaking, not that many people come here this early.”
Jisung gently blows at his cup before taking another sip. His face glows in amusement.
“One time, I had a grandma come in at 3AM asking for four shots of espresso,” his words tether off into laughter. “I was seriously wondering if I'd be a murder accomplice if I gave her that or not.” A giggle escapes his lips, “I wonder how she's doing.”
Minho chuckles at the titbit, “I wonder if somebody's ever had ‘Death by caffeine’ on their gravestone.”
“Oh, somebody must definitely have it. There's no way no one's ever died in history from having too much coffee."
“You mean like in the 60’s?”
Jisung waves his hand around the timeline in disagreement. “Nope. I think earlier than that maybe, but I don't know the exact years.”
He flashes a shy smile at Minho who drinks it up eagerly.
“I don't have a degree in history, sorry.”
Minho smiles back, “Ah, what did you study?” Only after a second does he falter, “If you don't mind me asking that is, of course,” he splutters.
He'd eaten his pastry a bit faster than he'd have liked to, and was now just stuck staring at Jisungs face because of social conventions, which he obviously didn't mind.
But maybe Jisung did? Oops, am I taking up his time? And what's with the sudden question? Maybe he has other stuff to do and I'm just blabbering like an idiot and holding him back and what if there are other customers waitin-
Thankfully, Jisung didn't mind. “I was actually majoring in zoology before all of this. According to my parents, I was a huuuge animal enthusiast since a kid, which was probably the reason why they pushed me into it but, long story short, I got burnt out and focused on something simpler, and here I am,” he shrugs.
“It was surprising for my friends and family when I switched to opening up a business. But I like my job now. I'm happy with it, and that's all that matters to me.”
Jisung ponders, mindlessly caressing the rim of his cup with his fingers. “Even though some people still disagree with my choices.. ”
Maybe Minho wasn't supposed to hear the last part considering Jisung mumbled it under his breath, but he heard it anyways, and it got his curiosity tinkering on what he meant by that.
"I'm a literature professor," Minho starts, finding it fair to share something of his as well, though Jisung tries to tell him otherwise.
"It helps that I'm usually done checking the students papers and assignments at night, you know, when I usually can't sleep. My body gets this extra sense of adrenaline and unrest, so I either pass time through that or like what I'm doing right now. It sometimes gets boring, although my cat's keep me company just fine."
"You have cats?" Jisung interrupts in excitement. "Can I see them?"
"I have three babies sleeping at home right now," the pride apparent in his voice.
Jisungs eyes were sparkling in a way that Minho felt was totally necessary when finding a fellow pet-owner. He switches his phone on and Jisung gets a glimpse of the kitties from his lock-screen. "So cute," he squeals out.
"Wait till you see them in the clothes my mother made."
"I have a dog of my own, but he's more of a family-dog and lives at my parents house.''
''It makes sense, I can honestly see you as a dog person.''
And for the next few hours, they talked about the cats, nothing, and everything at the same time.
It felt good to relax in a way that felt completely unfamiliar in today's societal norms. Having a chat with a stranger like they were an old friend of yours, despite not truly knowing anything about them. It felt freeing.
Besides, it helps that Jisung was so comfortable to talk to. A man who knows the appropriate jokes, when to question and when to not push. How to convey a point that doesn't feel like it's leaving the other person behind.
He talks like a musician. Or a poet. Someone that allocates his words just right, enough for people to shed tears over his songs.
"Oh no-no. I'm not on that type of level. It's just something I do on and off with my brother, Changbin, whenever I'm free. He's the one with the big guns, he even has his own studio now!"
"Mmm such a shame. You have such a pretty voice." Rosy cheeks appear.
Their light-hearted chatter fills up the empty place, banter and teasing thrown around without a second thought, hours going by with ease. It felt fun sharing little snippets of himself in a type of limbo that didn't seem to exist in the real world just yet.
“Oh- Sorry! I must be taking up your time! I'm sure you have other things to do-” Jisung exclaims, coming to the realization far sooner than Minho would've liked him to.
He gets up from his seat in a rush. But before he could take another step, Minho grabs his hand, tugging him closer in the proccess by accident. For reasons partially known to him but not the appropriate time to dissect them thoroughly.
They both blink at each other in surprise.
Jisungs goes rigid, glancing repeatedly between the hand holding his own and Minhos stare, his cheeks turning a pinkish tint. Naturally, Minhos ears start reddening too.
“S-Sorry,” Minho stutters. He takes a steadying breath before continuing, "I don't have anything to do right now so I don't mind if you want to hangout here." Minho gently lets go of Jisungs hand, choosing to look over his shoulder since the eye contact was melting his brain into goo.
"I liked hearing you talk, that's why I didn't say anything," he sheepishly mumbles out.
Jisung slowly processes the words, retracting his hand from where it was awkwardly hovering in the air. A minute of silence passes between the two, though it feels like an eternity to them.
In the end, Jisung let's out a strangled noise between a cough and a sigh, trying to regain composure. "T-Thank you," he says, despite it coming out like a question.
"It's just- it was comfortable talking to you so that's why I started rambling. But I mean, I'm very good at speaking! In general. You know, most of the times," he wheezes, "I mean 'm not debriefing my life story onto every stranger I come across with.. hah.." he cuts off on an awkward chuckle. His face turns bright red when Minho locks his eyes with him once more and the energy crackles sharply between the two.
"I wouldn't mind that."
The moment felt fragile, no matter how they twisted it. As if a single word could ruin whatever was happening between the two.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, the moment breaks when a girl steps into the building.
She looks to be around her college years, with headphones blasting music loud enough to be heard from across the room. Rocking her head to the beats and enjoying life in such a romantic way it makes you miss your youth.
However, she halts in her steps when she spots the two, blinking profusely at the scene.
Only then does Minho realize the close proximity between him and Jisung.
The other was almost towering over him from where Minho was sat in his seat, arms leaning against the table which- woah when did that happen. The fact that Jisung's arms seemed toned under his shirt was not helping his dilemma at all.
God, this man will be the end of me.
Whatever image the two painted from a strangers perspective engulfs Minho's face into flames.
Jisung shuffles backwards, following the same thought process, clearing enough space for the cool air to be felt. He clears his throat loudly, causing the young women to snap out of whatever fujoshi-based trance she was in, and waddles to the counter, pointedly ignoring the two.
Minho belatedly realizes it's morning already. The sun was peering over the tall buildings and into the cafe, soaking Jisungs skin in a honey-colour tone, his eyes a hazel brown when the light hit just right.
Jisung, who instead of tending to his customer, sits back down in his seat, fanning his face to calm the redness.
"That was awkward."
Minho pushes his nervousness away through sheer willpower. If Jisung sat back down, that must mean something right?
"Do you know this person?" Is she his girlfriend? Even worse, what if he's hitting on a straight person in the first place? Wait- when did he decide he was hitting on him?
"Oh no," Jisung waves him off in mild-disgust. "She's a friend of mine I've know since last year. I mean- I'd honestly call her my little sister because I've know her since she was in her high-school years. Her and her friends always used to gang up on me and demand free treats on the weekends," he snickers and shakes his head at the memory. "Kids these days."
Minho nods in agreement. Ah- that reminds him, "How old are you, Jisung-ah?"
Jisung chokes on his spit for a split second before sharing that he's 24 years old. The same age as Felix.
"Wait- Felix? As in, Lee Felix?"
Now it was Minho's turn to be in shock, "How'd you know?"
"Well, Felix is my best friend, duh? We've known each other for almost four years by now. Also because he's a well-known celebrity in this part of the city. You know, with his donations and charity and what not."
Minho could only wow at how small the world seemed so suddenly.
So Felix knew Jisung all along and didn't hit them up? What a bastard. He was going to kill him.
Of course, Minho's first instinct isn't to jump the first Twink he sees, obviously he'd be in jail if he was that type of person. But it's still unfair that Felix never once thought to get them together. Not for entirely romantic purposes because, aside from that, Minho wants to be Jisungs friend.
He seems like a sweet and chill guy. And who doesn't like that in a person?
"How old are you, hyung?"
"I'm 27" Act cool, Minho. It's not a big deal he called you 'Hyung' in the cutest way possible.
"Wait- when did I say I was older than you?'
"You didn't say you were, you just kinda implied it."
"Implied it how?"
"Well- you know."
Caught in a trap, Jisung stares at anywhere other than Minho. He doesn't let up though, continuing to stare at him when he peeks back, until the younger finally gives in with a heave.
"You just seemed older," Jisung avoids Minho's gaze, ears heating up. "Your whole presence screamed… authority."
A low heat sparks in Minho's stomach at the words. The implication wasn't lost between the two.
A loud cough interrupts them. The girl wasn't facing towards them but it was clear as to what she meant by her attempt.
"Well," Jisung eagerly stands up, "That's my cue. I'll see you again soon..?" He looked expectant and Minho's stomach did a somersault.
Seemingly at a loss of words, Minho simply nods and Jisung brightens at it. He knew their time for today was up, so he gets up at the same time to pay for his meal, only for Jisung to convince him it's on the house.
"I don't let anyone younger than me pay. It's now my sole duty as your Hyung. You have no choice but to accept it, Jisung-ah."
He gleefully completes his payment after bickering back and forth for a few minutes, something their personal spectator wasn't entirely pleased with.
"Ahjussi, can I order now if you're done?" The girls spawns behind him, huffing at his antics.
Minho gawks at the audacity from her, feeling the blow deep in his soul. Jisung, the traitorous bastard, doesn't bother hiding his snicker.
Regardless, Minho takes it as his cue to head back home anyways, and so he bids the two goodbye after promising to meetup again when the other pestered him about it.
It was only once he was strolling down the street did he hear someone running behind him.
"Minho-hyung! Wait!"
Minho turns in confusion at the sound, making an idiotic move instead of a calculated one.
He freezes in his steps, only for Jisung to barrel straight into him, causing both of them to fall straight down onto the concrete of the sidewalk.
The two groan in sync, especially Minho, as the body on top of him was elbowing him straight into his ribs.
Jisung thankfully realizes that quickly, "Oh my god, I am so so sorry," rushing to apologize.
He quickly leans back, holding onto Minho and helping him carefully sit upright. His hands pass all over Minho's body at the same time, searching for some sort of wound or something. But Minho's weary mind starts thinking other wise. Especially since Jisung was perched straight into his lap.
He grabs his frenzy hands as he abruptly sits up straight, stopping Jisung unexpectedly, which causes the younger to squeak and accidently lose his balance on the thighs he was sitting on. Minho hurriedly grabs him by the waist with one hand in a panic before the younger could've seriously injured himself with a concussion to the head.
Jisung grabs Minho's shoulder just in time, the two stunned at what just happened. That is, until they make eye contact and start giggling uncontrollably.
People were moving around them. Giving them looks or not, he doesn't know. The world was still moving ahead of them.
Yet, at the time being, Minho couldn't care about anything else. He was tearing up from the laughter, stomach cramping from the lack of air, feeling a joy alike a child's.
"Sorry again," Jisungs cackles uncontrollably, leaning into the grasp he had on Minho's shoulder. "I just wanted to give you my personal number so we could hangout outside my store sometimes, in case you didn't want to."
"Why would I have a problem with that?," Minho looks up at Jisung in confusion who looks back at him, grasping the position he was sitting in. His smile weakened while the colour on his face deepened.
Anticipating the squirming, Minho tightened the hold he had on his waist with both hands, keeping him in one place. Jisung silently gapes at the behaviour, and it was apparent that the action was levelling PDA level for the onlookers.
He swiftly picks the two of them off the floor, thankful for the countless hours he'd spent in the gym, letting Jisung dangle his feet down on to the floor properly. He doesn't let go of the hold on his waist yet.
"I don't mind visiting you in the cafe if it bothers your schedule that much. I'll be fine meeting you wherever you wanna go."
Some dust balls were caught in Jisungs fringe that he carefully brushes away. "Give me your number and don't worry too much, I'll see you soon, Jisung-ah."
Jisung seemed to be at a loss of words, handing over his number after a moment of delay.
"C'mon, now go and get to work, baby."
He's pushing it and he knows that with full consciousness, but it's so worth it hearing the light hitch in Jisungs breath.
"What? You like that? Like being called my baby?" Minho grins at the reaction.
"Hyung." Jisung faintly chokes out. "Hyung, you can't just say that out loud in broad daylight."
Minho pretends to think it over, "Hmmm, I think I just did.'' He can't help but be slightly mean about it. ''And if I'm not wrong, it seems like you liked it."
In spite of his teasing, a yawn tears through him. He blinks away the tears burning in his dry eyes, pushing Jisung forwards by his shoulders. "Come on, honey. I need to head back home and you need to head back to your shop."
Jisung reboots. "Right- right. Okay- I'll uh see you around then." Minho nods in agreement.
"Have a good nights sleep, Minho-hyung!" He waves from the doorstep, the bell chiming above his head.
Minho waves back.
"Bye-bye, Jisungie."