Archive of Our Own

When Siyun picked up a forgotten phone on one of the cafe tables and answered when someone called the phone a few minutes later, he had expected the owner to return, take their phone with a polite thank you, and leave - which did happen.

The customer and his friend, the one who called the lost phone, walked in ten minutes after Siyun answered the call. He remembered both of their faces, but his manager was glaring at his back to follow protocol and get verification before handing the phone back to its owner.

“Can I just get some confirmation that this is yours? Just call the phone again, please,” He added as politely as he could, mumbling, “Protocol, or something.”

“Good to know some random person couldn’t have stolen my phone in the mean time,” the phone’s owner said with a smile, too bright for this time of the day and the situation.

It should have ended there. The phone returned to its owner and Siyun escaping from another earful from his manager. Unfortunately, his co-worker, who happened to be one of his closest friends, decided to make the whole situation unnecessarily complicated.

Two days later, the same guy walks in alone. He orders the same thing as last time, hesitating at the counter for a few seconds before eventually giving a wonky smile and taking a seat near the pick-up area. It’s not the weirdest thing Siyun has seen - maybe this guy was just socially awkward when he was alone.

The customer, Kyrell, walks up when his name is called minutes later. But instead of grabbing his drink and donut, he takes a few napkins slowly, then eventually says, “Um, I don’t know if this concerns you and I don’t mind at all or want to get anyone in trouble.” He gets his phone out of his pocket as he speaks, scrolling through something and turns the screen towards Siyun, “Is this one of your coworkers?”

On the screen is a selfie of Jiho making a kissy face at the camera. Siyun blinks, then sighs, “I’m so sorry.” He reaches a hand up, “Can I go through them quickly? You can delete them, of course, but I just need to know what kind of photos he took.”

“Oh, he didn’t take anything weird!” Kyrell quickly adds, “Just a few selfies and what I think might be your back?”

Siyun feels his ears heating up, “I kept your phone in our staff area to make sure it didn’t get damaged out here. I think he was on break at that time.”

“Like I said, I have no intention to get anyone in trouble and I don’t mind at all! Just-” He turns his phone back to himself, chewing on his bottom lip, “He hand wrote this note and took a picture of it. I showed it to Seungmo, my friend that was with me last time, and he said I should probably just let you know.”

The note that Kyrell shows Siyun is of a phone number with Siyun’s name scribbled below it, followed by the words ‘My friend is super single and his standards are very low, please hit him up’, all written in a pink, glitter pen. The next few photos are of Siyun’s back, and one blurry picture showing half of his face.

Siyun takes in a breath, lets it out, and tries to force away the headache he can feel coming.

“I don’t know how close you guys are, but I figured it would be best to let you know he gave out your number, if this actually is your number, at least.”

Siyun pinches the bridge of his nose, “Unfortunately we’re too close that boundaries get blurry sometimes, so that’s my actual number. Thank you for telling me. Do you mind deleting all of that?”

“No problem! I was going to do that anyway after showing you. Thank god you were actually here today.”

Kyrell leaves and Siyun makes sure to give Jiho a very stern talking-to in the back when the older walks in for his shift, ignoring Jiho’s excuses of I knew who the owner is, though! We have a mutual friend, I didn’t give your number to a complete stranger!

Now, that should have been the end of the whole lost phone situation.

Kyrell seemed sweet, nice enough to come back to the cafe just to show Siyun that Jiho was an absolute menace. And, for the most part, he is sweet. He’s polite whenever he comes to make orders, leaves his table as clean as possible and throws out his trash; he even offered to mop the floor after spilling some of his drink once.

But after a week, Kyrell seemed to grow bolder. He talks to Siyun more, makes small talk and unintentionally gets on Siyun’s nerves. It’s not his fault that Siyun doesn’t like talking to customers more than needed, and there isn’t really a way for him to know if Siyun doesn’t tell him.

“Just the usual?” Siyun asks, trying to keep his voice high enough to sound nice without it being too unnatural.

The one in question raises his eyebrows in surprise, “You remember my order but not my name?” He frowns as he says it.

It’s easier to match faces to orders than names. Siyun only entertains simple conversations with a handful of regulars, like the older lady that comes in and clearly wants at least a brief interaction with someone to start her day.

Most of the other regulars must have realised that Siyun is scarce with his words and are more than happy with getting their correct order made to the best possible quality. He remembers some names, but he isn’t so close with any regulars that he could address them with it when they walk in without feeling weird.

Kyrell, though, who Siyun has unwillingly learnt the name of, chooses the quietest times to come into the cafe and strikes up a conversation while picking up his drink. Mackiah told him he was being dramatic for being angry over the fact that Kyrell has somehow figured out when the cafe is quiet and happens to walk in when Siyun has no other work he can excuse himself to complete.

Plus, Kyrell is never pushy or weird about talking to Siyun and Siyun has found that he doesn’t find talking to Kyrell to be as much of a burden as he does with some other people.

“Remembering orders is easier,” Siyun answers shortly, tapping at the screen to put in the same drink and pastry - a medium matcha with a chocolate donut.

“And what if I wanted to change my order one day?” Kyrell asks, leaning closer to the counter for no good reason other than to push the limits of Siyun’s patience, “My name will stay the same but my order might not. It seems much more productive to remember names.”

Siyun resists the urge to roll his eyes, his manager’s voice reminding him to be polite and keep the customer service smile he was forced to practice on his face at all times. Though, he thinks the past two weeks of interacting with this guy is long enough to justify dropping the facade. He has a feeling that Kyrell wouldn’t be offended.

“People can change their names.”

“But it’s less likely.”

“You’ve ordered the exact same thing for the past two weeks,” Siyun points out, “And you’ve been here, what, six times now?”

Kyrell opens his mouth, shuts it, and pulls out his card, “For Kyrell, please.”

Siyun can’t help the smile of victory that tugs at his lips, turning away quickly, mumbling, “It’ll be out shortly,” like he was trained to and serving the short line of people.

Jiho’s in the back making orders, which means that once Siyun gets through the queue, he needs to start handing out the finished products. It’s how the cafe works and it’s his job, but he grumbles about it just for the sake of it.

“Be a team player,” Jiho says when Siyun makes a face, “Unless you want to stay back here instead?”

“I do want to! You know I want to,” Siyun glares, “You’re the one who wanted to swap to hide from that guy you hooked up with last week. Brian, was it?”

“Not true!”

Siyun gives Jiho a look that very quickly shuts down whatever excuses he could try and make. Brian, Jiho’s latest sort-of-situationship, walked in a few minutes before Kyrell and Jiho ran to Siyun and shoved him towards the counter. Brian had most definitely seen Jiho and Siyun felt a kind of bad seeing the dejected pout on the man’s face.

“He’s still sitting there, by the way.” Siyun grabs Kyrell’s order, the first to be made, “He’s sitting at that table by the window looking like a kicked puppy. How could you be so mean to a guy like that?”

Jiho groans, “Whatever. Go worry about your own social life.”

It’s a weak rebuttal and usually, Siyun wouldn’t have read into it much. But Jiho is the reason Kyrell keeps coming back and Jiho knows that Kyrell is trying to form some sort of friendship with Siyun. So the statement clearly holds a deeper meaning, a plea, maybe, begging Siyun to open up to a potential new friend.

Unlike the last few times, Kyrell doesn’t mention the weather or tell Siyun that his hair looks nice, despite the fact that it looks the same every shift. Instead, he grabs his drink and donut with a smile and a thank you, then leaves the pick-up counter. Maybe it’s because the cafe is busier than last time or because he simply gave up.

Siyun doesn’t think too much of it, letting the relief wash over him at the fact that he doesn’t need to deal with a slightly awkward attempt at a conversation.

Once the rush dies down, though, Siyun sees that Kyrell is sitting with Brian. They’re both talking animatedly, a grin plastered on Kyrell’s face and a frown on Brian’s, likely being teased somehow. They must be friends, then.

While Siyun is spacing off, Kyrell gets up and starts walking towards the pick-up counter and before Siyun can think better of it, he starts talking first.

“Is that your friend?” Siyun asks, surprising himself with the question.

Kyrell pauses, “Yes?” He continues to take a few more napkins when Siyun doesn’t immediately respond back, “Wait! You’re friends with Jiho, right?”

Siyun nods, “He’s in the back right now.”

“Hiding from Brian.”

It’s a statement more than a question and Siyun realises this was likely the topic of conversation between the pair.

Kyrell continues to take napkins out of the dispenser, eventually ending up with a small pile that he definitely doesn’t need, “Wanna mess with them?” There’s a grin on his face, mischievous.

It looks odd on Kyrell’s face. So far, Siyun has only seen the other boy with a huge grin on his face, smaller and more polite smiles, and a frown every now and then when Siyun doesn’t agree with a food combination that he’s a fan of. He doesn’t know Kyrell as a friend, but the constant smiling and occasional pout had him believing that Kyrell was an angel.

This side of Kyrell, though, is a new revelation that Siyun is unexpectedly happy to find out about.

“What do you have in mind?”

Unlike Siyun had expected, Kyrell didn’t have some elaborate plan to make their friends end up in an awkward one-on-one situation where they would be forced to talk properly. Somehow, Siyun finds himself faced with huge poster paper taped to the wall of the cafe after closing time.

“Okay, so this is based on what I know about Brian only, so feel free to add anything.”

The poster paper has blank spots, supposedly to add things about Jiho, and a list of what Siyun assumes are Brian’s hobbies and his entire schedule. Kyrell’s plan isn’t just to mess with their friends, Siyun realises, he’s trying to get them together.

“This…” Siyun trails off, taking in all the information that Kyrell managed to cram into the small amount of space, “is not what I was expecting.”

Kyrell tilts his head in question, “What did you want to do, then?”

“I don’t know.” Siyun shrugs, “Shove them into the break room and lock the door?”

Kyrell blinks, then grins, “You’re kind of simple-minded, huh?” Then, as an afterthought, “No offence.”

Siyun scoffs, “Adding ‘no offence’ after insulting me doesn’t mean I won’t still be offended.”

“Sorry,” Kyrell adds with a sheepish smile, “I just spent an embarrassingly long time putting this together so I kind of want to get the most out of it.”

It’s been a week since Kyrell suggested they do something about Brian and Jiho. They didn’t exchange socials or phone numbers, and after three days without seeing the other man, Siyun had thought he simply forgot about the whole thing. But today, five minutes before close, Kyrell walked in with a huge grin and rolled up poster paper under an arm.

Siyun is a little impressed with the dedication, though he finds it unnecessary.

“Fine,” he sighs, “I don’t think we need their whole schedules, though. And there’s no way in hell I’m doing that stalking shit if that’s what you’re planning.”

Kyrell laughs, “I don’t have that much free time. I thought we could just find some common interests between them and force them into a situation where they need to interact.”

They come up with a small list of things that both Brian and Jiho could bond over while Siyun finishes cleaning. Siyun feels oddly excited over this whole thing; he’s not the type to care so much about other people. But Kamden told him that he has his own way of caring for his friends, and Mackiah told him that he thinks it’s sweet that Siyun always offers to grill the meat when they eat together.

Siyun thinks they’re just being nice though, because they’re his friends and they’re obligated to think that way about him.

While Siyun is behind the counter making sure everything is turned off properly, he sees Kyrell with his brows furrowed as he writes on the poster paper. It’s not necessary, considering only the two of them are involved, but who is Siyun to ruin the other boy’s fun?

“So!” Kyrell announces proudly, gesturing for Siyun to sit down again, who begrudgedly complies, “We can get our friends together and go bowling.”

Siyun nods, then pauses, “Jiho would find it suspicious if I brought that up, especially if I mentioned inviting friends that he doesn’t know about.”

Kyrell raises his eyebrows at him, “Are you sure you’re not dating Jiho already? Why are you two so co-dependent?”

“We’re not!” Siyun huffs. It’s not the first time they’ve been accused of being a couple or been told they rely on one another too much, “We’re roommates and he knows I don’t go out much. Plus, he’s super nosy so anytime I do go anywhere he always asks me about it.”

“Well, then, this is a problem,” Kyrell frowns, pulling out a chair to flop down into it. He looks so dejected and Siyun feels bad for finding the sight so funny.

Kyrell looks deep in thought, biting at a nail while staring off into space. Siyun should probably say something, maybe come up with an alternative or suggest going home and sleeping on the idea. Instead, he takes a walk around the cafe with the excuse of double-checking everything and by the time he’s in front of Kyrell again, the other’s face has lit up with what must be some brilliant idea.

“Aren’t you friends with Mackiah?” He asks when his eyes land on Siyun.

Siyun nods slowly, “Yes. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Let’s ask him to plan it!” Kyrell says enthusiastically, “I think I have a class with him and isn’t he into sports, too? We can tell Brian and Jiho that Mackiah and I planned it.”

And so, Siyun asks Mackiah to come to the cafe two days later when he’s on the closing shift again. It takes little convincing to get Mackiah to help them and, as expected, Jiho is too excited to be suspicious of the sudden invitation.

Days later, surrounded by a group, only half of which he’s had more than a few conversations with, Siyun realises that he didn’t really think it through properly. Normally, he would stick to Jiho, Mackiah, or Kamden. But the whole point of this hangout is to get Jiho to talk to Brian like a normal person, and both of Siyun’s other options are currently very engaged in a conversation about god knows what with one of Kyrell’s friends, Seungmo.

“Seems to be going well so far,” Kyrell says to Siyun, keeping his voice hushed.

Siyun almost jumps, not-so-subtly putting some space between the two of them, “We haven’t even started playing yet.”

“Look,” Kyrell nods his chin towards Brian and Jiho, not the least bit bothered by Siyun moving away.

Siyun follows Kyrell’s line of sight and finds that their two friends are awkwardly standing next to each other, not speaking and simply waiting behind the other three in their group while the staff member sets up a game for them. There’s space between them, far enough to make it clear that they’re not close but with an odd sense of longing, as if they’re both tamping down the urge to bump shoulders. It’s a pitiful sight and Siyun can’t help tearing his eyes away, feeling as if he’s intruding.

Kyrell doesn’t comment on them any further, delving into something about the weather or how he’s looking forward to bowling because he hasn’t gone since high school, Siyun nodding along.

“Jiho will play alone and the rest of us will team up!” Mackiah announces as he leads them towards their bowling lane.

Siyun stares up at the screen, finding that all of them except Jiho have been paired up - Mackiah with Kamden, Brian with Seungmo, and Siyun with Kyrell.

Jiho starts whining about how unfair it is that he’s left alone, to which Kamden rebuts with a reminder of him being the self-proclaimed best bowler in the group. Siyun ignores them, grabbing Mackiah by the elbow before he can sit down next to his partner.

“Why did you make the teams without asking me?”

Mackiah stumbles a bit, tilting his head in confusion, “I thought you’d be fine with Kyrell? You guys seemed to be getting along just fine…”

How Mackiah came to that conclusion based on the ten minutes they spent in the cafe, Siyun doesn’t know. He supposes this is what he gets for staying at the back of the group, though.

“I know I said I haven’t played since high school, but I swear I’m not that bad,” Kyrell says from behind the two with a pout.

“You’re probably better than Siyun,” Mackiah unhelpfully supplies, “He always loses when we all go together, even though Jiho gives him so many pointers.”

Siyun doesn’t call Mackiah out on the half-lie - he doesn’t always lose - too self-conscious to be petulant about it. Instead, he simply moves his hand from Mackiah’s elbow to jab a finger into his side as discreetly as possible, pointedly avoiding the amused expression on Kyrell’s face.

“We’ll have to see if Jiho’s advice makes you better than me, then.”

It’s a provocation, Siyun can tell. If he were more mature, or cared less about being perceived, he would ignore it. Unfortunately, Siyun is no better than Jiho who’s throwing daggers at some comment Brian must have made about his bowling skills and falls for the bait easily.

Halfway through the game, Siyun realises that Kyrell is nicer to him than expected. While Brian and Jiho are throwing out criticisms at each other, all of which border the line of insults, Kyrell is all “nice try” and “that was so good!”. That’s not to say he’s nice enough not to laugh when Seungmo falls on his ass after being a bit too passionate, but he’s the first to help him up despite being the furthest away.

And by the end of the first game, which Jiho just barely wins, he’s already running his mouth about how he was just warming up and that he could do better in the next round. So, naturally, the loser of the next round has to buy snacks and drinks for the group.

“They look way more comfortable with each other already,” Kyrell says next to Siyun. His voice is just low enough for only Siyun to hear while managing to maintain a distance that he must deem as what Siyun is okay with. Siyun doesn’t know if it’s intentional, but he appreciates the gesture nonetheless.

“I guess.” Siyun shrugs.

Kyrell looks very happy with the progress and Mackiah, although bitter about having to pay, is grinning too. Siyun can’t fight off the smile that stretches across his own face when the two of them turn to him.

With the semester ending and Siyun somehow managing to maintain his 80+ average in his units, a lot of the cafe staff start going on vacations, which leaves the remaining team members no choice but to pick up extra shifts.

“God, we should’ve just gone home with Kamden or Mackiah when they offered,” Jiho grumbles.

Kamden went to visit his family in South Korea, who had been nice enough to extend the invitation to Jiho, Siyun, and Mackiah. Siyun declined because he needed the extra cash and he didn’t think it would be that bad to stay behind and work, and Jiho latched onto that excuse, though it was obvious that he likely wanted to stay for Brian. Mackiah already had plans with his own family, who were also nice enough to accommodate two more guests if they wanted to join.

The first two weeks of the break weren’t so bad, but now, with almost half of their staff gone, Siyun and Jiho are two of the main shift managers left to deal with the new high school hires.

Siyun sighs, cleaning off the last table and flopping back into the chair. He wasn’t supposed to work today, but the other manager called in sick and Siyun had no excuse that Jiho wouldn’t be able to call him out on to refuse.

“I said no to them because I need money. You said no because of a boy. Stop complaining.”

“I did not!” Jiho perks up from behind the counter, “I need the money too.”

“To do what? Go on dates with Brian?” Siyun teases, dodging the rag that Jiho throws at him, which, of course, means that he has no choice but to ball up a napkin and throw it back at Jiho.

The door rings while Jiho tries to pick up the whole cash register to launch at Siyun, both of them freezing and turning to greet the customer. Luckily, it’s not someone that would leave a review to complain about the staff slacking off.

“What did I just walk into?” Kyrell asks, half-smiling and half-worried, like he isn’t sure if they were bickering in a friendly manner or actually about to start fighting.

“Kyrell! You’re back,” Jiho greets happily, walking towards their guest to hug him, “How was your vacation?”

Siyun looks away, eyes scanning the cafe for something to do before this gets too awkward.

Kyrell turns to Siyun when he pulls away from Jiho, an exaggerated frown on his face, “I know you’re not a hugger, but not even a hi? Come one, Siyun, I thought we were friends.”

It catches Siyun off-guard for a moment, and he blurts out the first response he comes up with, a weak “Hi Kyrell.”

Kyrell stares at him for a moment, then laughs, “Hi Siyun.”

Jiho looks back and forth between the two of them, and either getting bored or finding whatever he was looking for, he starts to ask Kyrell about his trip.

Siyun listens, reacting when he needs to and busying his hands with refilling the napkin dispenser or wiping a non-existent stain. It’s not like he doesn’t care about Kyrell’s vacation, but it would be weird for him to stand doing nothing when he isn’t as active in the conversation as Jiho is.

He’s been told more than once in his life that he can be hard to get close to, that he tends to be closed off. At the same time, though, when he does let someone in, they realise he isn’t as boring as he tries to make himself out to be.

“You guys act like exes that ended on semi-friendly terms,” Jiho says suddenly, when both of them are home and watching some show that Jiho picked.

“What?”

“You and Kyrell.”

“What?” Siyun repeats in disbelief.

Jiho grins, “You don’t see it?” He pauses the episode, fully invested in sharing whatever psychoanalysis he’s conducted on Siyun and Kyrell’s relationship, “Like, you’re both awkward but also seem so comfortable with that awkwardness?”

Siyun frowns, "That's just because we’re not close.” He pulls a pillow into his lap to fiddle with the fabric in the corner of it, “You know how I am with new people.”

“Well, yes,” Jiho agrees, reaching out to put his hand in the place of the fabric, smiling when Siyun starts pulling his fingers gently, “It’s kind of cute. Kyrell seems like he’s trying really hard to befriend you and surprisingly, you’re not pushing him away.”

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Siyun agrees. Kyrell is a hard person to dislike. He’s the type to go out of his way to make his friends happy, the one to remember minor details about them, things they say in passing that he stores in his head for later.

Siyun isn’t quick to get close to people. But he doesn’t try to actively push others away either, even if it may seem that way at first glance.

For some reason, though, Kyrell doesn’t seem to be put off by Siyun’s sometimes cold exterior. He seems to latch onto the times he makes Siyun laugh, tries to talk to him and gives him space when Siyun answers with one-word replies. And for another unknown reason, Siyun feels drawn to that - he likes seeing how Kyrell will react when Siyun brushes off one of his stupid jokes, likes to be around Kyrell in general, even when he’s being a brat.

Like the next shift that Siyun works, for example, when Kyrell comes into the cafe soaked from head to toe because he forgot an umbrella.

“I just mopped the floors,” Siyun sighs, wordlessly walking to the back and grabbing a spare towel that smells clean enough, “Here. Don’t move until you’re dry.”

Kyrell frowns, “I’m not gonna get completely dry using a small towel.”

Siyun stares. Kyrell stares back, a pout forming on his lips. With a sigh, Siyun says, “Fine. We have a small heater in the back. I guess I can let you use it just this once.”

“You’re pretty warm-hearted, huh?”

Siyun ignores the comment but Kyrell grins anyway.

In my defence,” Kyrell starts, opening the door to wring out his jacket and reduce the amount of water he drips on the floor as he follows Siyun, “The weather app said nothing about rain today.” He starts drying his hair while walking, trying to hide the way he shivers.

“Right,” Siyun nods. He doesn’t care why Kyrell got soaked in the rain, really, he just wants to get back to closing the store so he can leave quickly. Plus, they’re still open and a customer might come in at any moment. Siyun would rather not deal with the store manager asking why they’ve received yet another review about no staff being at the counter to greet customers.

Trusting that Kyrell won’t snoop around or start a fire in the staff room, Siyun gets back to continue with his closing duties.

By the time Siyun is re-mopping the area with footsteps left by himself and Kyrell, the perpetrator comes back with his hair semi-dry and his clothes in a similar state. At least he’s not dripping water everywhere he goes.

“Thanks for letting me in,” Kyrell says, “But don’t you usually have another person to help you? Why are you doing everything alone?” He frowns.

Siyun snorts, “Why do you look upset?”

“I just think it’s unfair. Workers’ rights and all.”

Siyun tampers down a smile, feeling like letting Kyrell see it will make him lose, somehow. He’s right, of course, it is a little unfair that Siyun is left alone to do everything.

With a shrug, he turns back to run the end-of-day process and shut down all the systems, “My co-worker called in sick. The only other person available is Jiho and he already has too many hours, so I told him I could handle it.”

While the systems are shutting down, Siyun walks around to check that all machinery that should be turned off is off, and with a brief glance, he sees a glint flash across Kyrell’s eyes. It’s brief, and if Siyun wasn’t so accustomed to the subtle shift in the other boy’s expression, he wouldn’t have noticed it.

“So considerate of you,” Kyrell teases, “Like I said, you’re warm-hearted.”

“I can and will kick you out.”

“But the floor isn’t dry yet,” Kyrell points out, “You wouldn’t want to mop the same place a third time now, would you?”

Siyun rolls his eyes, “Oh, so is that why you’re still here? So you don’t dirty the floors? And not because it’s still raining and you don’t have an umbrella?”

Kyrell smiles, sheepish, “Guess you caught me,” he sighs, “I was hoping the rain would stop by the time you need to lock the place up, but I guess I’ll just have to run home.”

Siyun doesn’t really think of himself as a considerate person, or someone that’s warm-hearted, even if Kyrell seems to think so - insists that he is, rather. He simply didn’t want Jiho to overwork himself and make stupid mistakes during his shift, like burn himself or put the wrong syrup in a drink for a person that’s already being bitchy for no reason.

He doesn’t really know what possesses him to offer to walk part of the way home with Kyrell under his own umbrella, but he has to admit it’s a little funny to watch the way Kyrell’s eyes widen in shock, as if he thinks he’s dreaming.

Kyrell lives a fifteen-minute walk from the cafe, and Siyun takes the bus from a stop about ten minutes away.

“Oh, lucky me!” Kyrell grins, holding a hand out to find that the rain has died down to drizzle when they need to part ways, “Thanks for letting me under your umbrella. I’ll see you later, then. Get home safe!”

With that, he walks - jogs - away with his jacket hanging off of his head, shielding his head and eyes from the rain water. He looks ridiculous, and Siyun waits until Kyrell is out of sight to laugh to himself about it.

Near the end of the semester break, when most of the staff have returned from holiday, Jiho gets sick. Siyun takes care of him when he’s at home. When he’s covering Jiho’s shifts at the cafe, Brian comes over, even though Jiho is mostly better by that point.

A week after that, with Jiho fully recovered, all the extra shifts and the slightly colder weather finally get to Siyun and he too falls sick.

It’s terrible. He feels like he’s dying and feels stupid for being so dramatic, but he wakes up one morning and can’t stop coughing, the sound loud enough to wake up Jiho in the other room and come check on him.

“I’ll be fine,” he tries to say, the words coming out scratchy and unconvincing.

Jiho rolls his eyes, “Bullshit.” He puts a hand to Siyun’s forehead and another to his own, “I don’t think you have a fever, which is good. But you’re going to use your sick leave today and I’m sure someone will feel guilty enough to cover your shift.”

Siyun groans. He has a lot of sick leave that he’s yet to use, and Jiho’s right. Siyun is usually the one to cover for other people, after all.

“You don’t need to stay home to take care of me,” Siyun says after sending a text to their manager and another to the work group chat.

Jiho stares at him, “Why wouldn’t I?”

He says it so easily. Like cancelling his plans for the day just to tend to Siyun’s bedridden self is a non-negotiable - like nothing is more important to him than Siyun at this moment. Which is insane, because Jiho was supposed to see a movie with Kamden today, one with his favourite actor that he’s been looking forward to since the trailer came out.

“I can go another day. Mackiah can go with Kamden so my ticket won’t be wasted.” Jiho rebuts. But the movie is popular, which means he won’t be able to get tickets again any time soon. To this, Jiho huffs, “Then I can watch it at home with you when it’s available. Why are you trying to kick me out? Do you hate me?”

Siyun laughs, or tries to, cringing when the action makes his throat sting with pain.

“I think I made you sick,” Jiho ends up saying, “I recovered pretty quickly so I must’ve passed it on to you.”

“So you’re staying because you feel guilty?” Siyun asks. He’s not offended by the possibility, simply curious.

Jiho shakes his head, getting up from Siyun’s bed, probably to get him some medicine, “Do I need a reason to take care of my friend, hm?” He pauses at the door, looking at Siyun for a second, “Why do you seem surprised when you’ve taken care of me so many times?” He leaves before Siyun can answer, not that he has anything to say.

Siyun stares at the door, listening to the soft clattering of spoons and cabinet doors opening and closing. He closes his eyes then, a small smile on his lips. He shouldn’t fall asleep already, but he realises then just how tired he is - Jiho will wake him up again when he needs to, anyway.

Unlike Jiho who makes a full recovery after a few days of sickness, for Siyun, his cold lingers. His throat is still a bit sore when he goes back to work the following week and his runny nose had been bugging him all night. He wears a mask and his voice cracks a few times when he speaks louder to be heard over the other noise in the cafe. But other than that, it’s like he’s perfectly healthy.

Kyrell doesn’t seem to think so, though, based on the frown on his face when he walks in, “Are you sure you’re okay to be working already?”

Siyun snorts, but the sound is muffled and likely lost among the group of loud high schoolers, “It’s not like I can stay home forever. I do have bills to pay, you know?”

“That’s what paid sick leave is for,” Kyrell sighs, “And Jiho told me you have a lot so might as well use it now, right?”

“Are you here to order something or did you come just to scold me?”

“To order, obviously,” Kyrell smiles, teasing, “I didn’t even know you were working today. Jiho said you were being a baby and wouldn’t get out of bed all day yesterday.”

Siyun is glad he wore a mask, the fabric covering enough that Kyrell won’t be able to see his cheeks flush, “He’s exaggerating.”

Kyrell hums, disbelieving but lets the matter go when Siyun threatens to remove the donut from his order, mumbling something about abuse of power as he taps his phone to pay.

To Siyun’s terrible luck, his shift ends up getting busy as soon as Kyrell leaves, as some sort of karma, maybe, for lying when he was definitely being a baby for the last few days. It ends up getting busier than it had been that morning, which is rare, since the morning rush gets pretty bad with their location being so close to a university and a train station.

As soon as the clock hits 9pm, Siyun rushes to lock the door, eager to get home to deal with his headache. It started to hurt somewhere between the third complaint from a customer over what he thinks wasn’t even an issue and almost slipping on the smallest drop of milk.

“Um, Siyun.” His coworker walks up to him, a yellow jacket in her hand, “Someone left this behind.”

“There’s nothing valuable in there, right?” Siyun asks, praying this isn’t some rare case where they find something concerning that needs to be reported.

“Pockets are empty,” she confirms.

“Just put it in the back, then. Someone will come looking for it if they care enough, I’m sure.”

Siyun sends her home when the cleaning is done while he does the final checks of the place, his headache comes full force and makes him dizzy.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, groaning when his phone rings and makes his head throb, “What?” he asks into the receiver, not bothering to check the name in his rush to get the ringing to stop.

“Well, hello to you too,” Jiho’s voice comes, “Are you still at the store? How are you feeling?”

Siyun sighs, biting his lip to stop and think before he responds with something unnecessarily rude, “Yes. Terrible.”

“Oh, poor baby,” Jiho tries to tease, but there’s a hint of worry in his voice that makes the words lose their edge, “Kyrell left his jacket at the store. He’s coming to get it now. Let him drive you home.”

“I don’t need a chaperone.”

“You just admitted so easily that you feel terrible and you expect me to believe you can make it home safe on your own?”

Siyun wants to roll his eyes and say that Jiho is being dramatic. Before he can, though, he sees a figure standing at the door and his phone rings with another call, “Kyrell’s here.” He hangs up without hearing Jiho’s reply, unlocking the door.

Instead of walking in, Kyrell simply waits outside with a smile, “I’ll just wait for you here. Don’t wanna mess up your floors.”

It’s nice of him; saves Siyun from having to hear about the muddy footsteps the next morning or having to mop again.

“I don’t know if Jiho told you but I said I’d drive you home, since I’m here anyway,” Kyrell tells him, taking his jacket from Siyun and leading him towards the parking lot.

“You’re not going to try and kidnap me, right?” Siyun asks, just to break the silence when they’re both sitting in Kyrell’s car.

Kyrell snorts, “If I tried that, I’d get caught right away. Jail doesn’t sound fun.”

Siyun hums, letting himself relax into the back rest. Now that he’s sitting down with nothing else to worry about, the exhaustion of the day hits him. Kyrell doesn’t turn on any music or try to fill the silence, letting Siyun drift off for the few minutes it takes to get to his apartment.

Napping on public transport is never fun, the stress of missing his stop always too much to let Siyun rest properly. That, or the group of loud teenagers, or people who don’t know how to talk on the phone without yelling. And Kyrell is good at driving. Siyun wouldn’t ever admit that aloud, but it’s easy to fall asleep.

He’s woken up by a hand gently shaking his shoulder, then mumbles something close to, “Thanks. See you later.” Then lets his legs move on autopilot towards the lift and down the corridor towards his apartment.

Only the kitchen lights are on inside, and Jiho greets him with an enthusiastic, “You’re back!” He’s dressed in his at-home clothes with a purple apron that Brian got him over his hoodie.

Siyun hums, taking a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. There’s pain killers, cough drops, and a glass of water laid out there. His headache is mostly gone by this point, so he opts for the cough drops and watches Jiho’s back as he moves around, looking at the recipe on his phone from time to time.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Jiho scolds when he turns to find Siyun with his arms folded over the island and his head resting on them, “Go shower while I finish dinner.”

“Will it be edible?”

“Brat,” Jiho mumbles, grumbling to himself about how ungrateful Siyun is while Siyun laughs and heads towards the bathroom.

It’s nice to be taken care of every now and then.

Something shifts.

Siyun can’t tell what it is, or why it happened. All he knows is that it starts after Kyrell drops him home for the first time.

Kyrell comes to the cafe just as often as he did before, ordering a drink and donut or cookie, sitting for a while then leaving for classes or whatever else he had to do. But sometimes, when Siyun is on closing duty, he’ll come back ten minutes before 9 and sit in a chair closest to the door. He lets Siyun and whoever else is closing do their work, often making small talk with Siyun’s coworker, but never interrupts or distracts either of them.

Then, when Siyun deems everything finished, he’ll stand up with a stupid smile on his face and say, “Shall we go?” And drives Siyun home.

It was a gradual shift, one that Siyun barely noticed until Jiho pointed out that Kyrell kept staring at him from his table.

“You’re imagining it,” Siyun had said.

A few hours later, Kyrell walked back in to drop Siyun at his apartment for the second time.

Siyun doesn’t know why, but he lets it happen. Which is odd, because whenever someone goes out of their way to do things for him, it makes him feel like a burden. Maybe it’s the fact that he grew up as an only child, being the center of his parents’ attention and doing whatever he could to prevent them from worrying about him.

And it’s clear that Kyrell is actively making time to visit Siyun, showing up in a pair of sweats and a hoodie or a t-shirt that clearly show that he had been lounging at home.

It’s weird and Siyun doesn’t know how to even begin to make sense of it.

“Just ask him,” Brian shrugs. He’s made himself at home on their couch, long legs sprawled out across Jiho’s lap while they both munch on a bag of chips.

Siyun glares at him, “He’s your best friend, isn’t he? Don’t you already know why he’s acting like this? Why can’t you just tell me? And those are my chips, I bought them yesterday!” He balls up a piece of paper towel and throws it at him from the kitchen, which bounces off of his head and onto the floor.

“Hey, I can’t dob on him like that. It wouldn’t be right,” he says, voice serious despite the pout on his face.

“Why can’t we eat some of your chips? It’s not like we’re gonna finish the whole thing.” Jiho chimes in. He takes an obnoxiously large handful from the bag and stuffs it into his mouth.

Brian laughs. Siyun groans. He never should have agreed when Kyrell suggested that they mess with the now couple. If he hadn’t done that, maybe this whole thing with Kyrell wouldn’t be happening right now, either.

“But you’re right. It is weird,” Jiho says after a while, “The fact that you seem completely fine with Kyrell hanging around you so often is very odd indeed.”

Siyun throws another balled up paper towel, unfortunately missing Jiho, who only laughs in response.

“It’ll be okay, though. I can confirm that Kyrell has no ill intentions,” Brian says, “He’s not that type of person. He’s being nice to you because he wants to be.”

Siyun could’ve figured that much out on his own. The problem is, he doesn’t know why Kyrell is being nice to him like that, or why Kyrell is putting so much effort into doing unnecessary things like driving him home or bringing him lunch every now and then.

The easiest option would be to follow Brian’s advice and ask Kyrell what it all means, but Siyun thinks that if he did that, Kyrell would think that Siyun is offended somehow and stop all of it.

“Kyrell’s not like that,” Brian retaliates, “He’d only stop if he thought he was making you uncomfortable. So if you’re going to ask, just make sure he doesn’t misunderstand and it’ll be fine.”

“Or,” Siyun starts, walking up to the couch, “I could just force the answer out of you.” He grabs the pillow from under Brian’s head, the action followed by a shriek from Brian with his arms up in defence. Jiho watches them while laughing for a moment before deciding that Siyun might actually smother Brian and puts a stop to it.

The following day, Siyun wakes up before the sun has risen and makes his way to the cafe, shivering as he unlocks the door and rushing to turn on all the machinery that will make the building a little bit warmer. The door rings to signal a customer while Siyun is still setting things up. He glances at the clock and groans - one minute after opening.

“Welcome, how can- oh, you.”

Kyrell grins, “Is that how you greet customers? I might just have to leave a review about this.”

Siyun rolls his eyes, “Are you in a rush? If not, can I finish a few things before I make your drink?”

Kyrell hums, a hand tapping on his chin in thought, “I think you’re perfectly capable of multi-tasking, are you not?”

He is. Kyrell’s order never takes long to make and Siyun is almost done with his opening tasks. But he has the smallest urge to be annoying, just because Kyrell decided to walk in a minute after opening time. Plus, that comment was most definitely an attempt to get on Siyun’s nerves and, well, it’s working.

“I’m kidding.” Kyrell holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m not in a rush. You know my order, right? Take your time.” He doesn’t wait for Siyun to say anything more, simply takes a seat at the nearest table and pulls out his phone, not the least bit bothered.

Well, now Siyun just feels bad. Just a tiny bit.

“I finished everything, mostly,” Siyun calls out, ringing in Kyrell’s order and heading to the back when he sees the other man lift his head up.

He comes back to the front a few minutes later, thankfully with no new customers.

“Aren’t you meant to get the payment before making everything?” Kyrell raises his eyebrows in question, a small smile playing on his lips, “I could run out of here without paying right now.”

“You can if you want. Might be entertaining,” Siyun snorts, “I don’t get paid enough to deal with thieves. No way I’m chasing anyone.” Then, before he can think better of it, while Kyrell is busy unlocking his phone to get his card to work, he asks, “Why have you been coming so often? To bring me lunch or to drop me home.”

Kyrell’s eyes move back and forth between Siyun and his hands fiddling with his phone a few times, tapping the device against the card reader then giving his full attention to Siyun. It’s a bit too much all at once, but Siyun can’t be a quitter now.

“Do you not want me to? I figured that if you hated it, you would have just turned me down at the start. If I’m bothering you, I’ll stop.”

Just like Brian said.

“I didn’t say that,” Siyun defends, “I’m just wondering why. You don’t need to go out of your way to pick me up from work.”

I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Siyun doesn’t say, because it sounds too defensive and would only push Kyrell away. Kamden has scolded him one too many times for saying those exact words.

“I just like doing things for my friends,” Kyrell shrugs, “I go to the gym late and your apartment is on the way, so when I knew you were closing, I figured I could give you a lift home.”

It seems like a half-truth. Kyrell is dressed casually most times he picks Siyun and, not that Siyun is actively sniffing Kyrell, but he always smells like he’s come fresh out of the shower, with the scent of soap and vanilla or something just as sweet. Who goes to the gym after showering? Plus-

“Seungmo said you’re a morning person.”

Kyrell freezes, fingers curled loosely around his matcha, ready to pick it up, “Okay, and?”

It’s a weak comeback. His ears look a little pink, a shade darker than they had been when he walked in, so it couldn’t have just been from the cold.

“You’ve literally walked in here at 7:01 in the morning multiple times, and you never look tired at all. What kind of person can look that energised if they’re not a morning person?”

“Okay, fine,” Kyrell relents, clearing his throat, “Maybe I’m going out of my way to spend some time with you. Can you blame me, though? I barely have any chances to hang out with you!” He’s pouting as he speaks and Siyun finds it ridiculous - Kyrell is upset that he hasn’t had a chance to spend time with Siyun.

Siyun’s life isn’t so tragic that he grew up with no friends, or was avoided by his whole class, or anything that dramatic. Siyun knows how to be polite with people, how to make small talk that goes on long enough to avoid silences from getting too awkward. But he has very few friends, slow to let people close and even slower to let them into his world.

He holds no prejudice against people that can talk to strangers as if they’ve known each other for years, so he wasn’t intentionally trying to build a wall between himself and Kyrell. They just didn’t have an opportunity to meet one-on-one before.

“And you thought ruining your sleep schedule was the way to go?”

“I didn’t ruin my sleep schedule,” Kyrell argues, petulant, “I went straight to bed right after dropping you off,” he says it proudly and Siyun can’t hold back the snort of laughter that escapes him, “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are! Look!” Kyrell points an accusatory finger as Siyun turns away, “Now you’re running away trying to hide it. Wow.”

The banter that follows is easy and natural. A few customers come and go in the midst of their arguing and Kyrell only leaves after getting a promise from Siyun that he’ll join him and Mackiah at the gym the next day.

“You should probably refill that.” Kyrell points to an empty napkin dispenser on one of the tables, an annoying smile on his face, “Wouldn’t want any complaints now, would we?”

Siyun shoos him off with a wave, grabbing a new packet of napkins from behind the counter.

The cafe door opens and shuts, and when Siyun thinks enough time has passed, he lets himself check to see if Kyrell has left. He almost jumps when he finds the other right outside the window, standing directly in front of Siyun with a wide grin on his face that seems to stretch further when they meet eyes.

Siyun glares at Kyrell, who, unaffected, continues to smile. Then, he leans forward and blows on the window until it makes a little patch of fog. He lifts up a hand, shaking his arm to roll out the sleeve of his jacket to free his fingers and draws a smiley face.

It’s stupid and childish. Siyun wants to roll his eyes and get back to working, to finish all the work that he got behind on because he let himself get distracted - his coworker is in the back and while she’s capable of doing most of it on her own, Siyun would feel shitty if he left everything for her to finish.

Unfortunately for her, he continues to let himself be distracted, attention drawn to the wonky left eye on the smiley face and the little tongue that Kyrell adds a second later. It makes Siyun feel giddy inside, enough that he can’t fight off the smile that spreads on his lips, and feels horrified when a giggle almost escapes him.

So he turns away from the window to hide, hoping that Kyrell’s eyesight is bad enough to not notice the blooming blush across the back of his neck and ears - he busies his hands with stuffing the dispenser with napkins and closing the lid.

Siyun isn’t usually like this. Things like drawing smiley faces on foggy windows are only cute when it’s a kid or someone that one feels very fond of doing it. But Kyrell isn’t a kid, and Siyun most definitely does not feel that strongly for him. So why, then, does Siyun find the sight of it adorable?

Closing his eyes, Siyun breathes in and out; an attempt to calm down his racing heart. But behind his closed eyelids is Kyrell’s grin, that smile that makes his cheeks bunch up and his eyes turn to crescents and brings out his stupid dimples.

It probably takes him several minutes to get out of his own head. He sighs a breath of relief when he turns and finds no one on the other side of the window, Kyrell likely having laughed to himself as he walked away.

There’s the faintest hint of the smiley face left on the window, only visible to Siyun since he knew it was there.

Siyun isn’t the biggest gym rat by any means. Sure, he’s made it a habit to work out a couple times a week with Jiho or Mackiah and he enjoys it, but he isn’t as bad as Mackiah.

Somehow, what used to be the occasional gym sessions with only Mackiah turned into sessions with Mackiah and Kyrell, and now Kyrell sends him tik toks or reels everyday regardless of whether he receives one-word answers, gets left on seen, or the occasional replies where Siyun is actually interested in what is sent to him.

He sees Kyrell a lot more now outside of the cafe - when their class schedule aligns and they’re on campus at the same time, or when their respective friend groups that have merged now thanks to Jiho and Brian hang out together. Rarely, though, do they ever see each other one-on-one.

So it comes as a surprise when Kyrell invites him out to eat together.

“Why?” Siyun asks, unable to suppress the shock in his voice.

Kyrell stares at him for a moment and laughs, “Why? Really?”

Siyun shrugs, “We haven’t really done anything with just us two.”

“Are you worried it’ll be awkward?”

“Yes.”

“So honest,” Kyrell smiles, “You had no problem grocery shopping with Brian but you don’t want to eat out with me? I’m hurt, Siyun.” He holds a hand to his chest, dramatic.

Siyun wants to point out that the two situations are completely different. Grocery shopping is something that Siyun considers himself an expert in. He knows what he’s doing and they have at least dinner plans as a topic of discussion to avoid any weird silences. Eating out is different. Siyun knows himself and he knows he’ll feel pressured to keep a conversation going, that Kyrell is the opposite of him and talks nonstop, that Siyun probably won’t be able to respond with the same level of enthusiasm.

“Or we can watch a movie,” Kyrell suggests, “And get dinner after if we’re hungry, or just go home.”

It’s a much safer option. If Siyun finds the movie interesting enough, he’ll have a lot to talk about after. And if he doesn’t like it, he’ll have a lot to complain about.

So, at 6pm on Friday that same week, Siyun finds himself sitting on the couch waiting for Kyrell’s text.

“He’s picking you up?” Jiho questions from his spot on the floor, leaning against the couch while he types on his laptop perched on the coffee table, “This feels oddly like a-”

“Don’t say it.”

Jiho pauses, lips parted, then smiles, mischievous, “Oh, so you’ve thought about it? No wonder you’re more dressed up than usual.”

Siyun can’t deny that he put some effort into looking presentable, hair tidied up and clothes less casual than the hoodie and old pair of jeans he often reaches for.

From the start, the way Kyrell has tried getting closer has felt less like an attempt to befriend him and more like being hit on. Siyun didn’t let himself think too deeply on that, worried that he would only end up building a wall between them if he went down that line of thinking and ended up being wrong.

But now, with Kyrell having asked to eat out together, even though he has plenty of other friends who could likely offer him better company, it’s hard not to think like that. And as much as Siyun tried to avoid thinking about it weeks ago, he has to admit he enjoys being around Kyrell. It’s easy and comfortable.

Sometimes, when they’re all together as a big group and Siyun needs a break from the chaos, Kyrell joins him for a short walk or sits on the side with him so he doesn’t feel lonely. It’s not necessary, and if it were anyone else Siyun probably would have felt more overwhelmed by their presence. It’s never like that with Kyrell, though, the other man somehow knowing what to say or when to stay quiet.

Still, they haven’t done anything with just the two of them and Siyun doesn’t want things to be awkward and ruin whatever friendship they have.

“Text me if you want me to call and give you an excuse to leave your not-date early,” Jiho offers, just as Siyun is walking out the door.

Siyun rolls his eyes, fighting off a smile, “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He closes the door behind before Jiho can say anything more.

Kyrell is standing outside his car when Siyun finds him, leaning against it as if Siyun doesn’t know its colour and the number plate. He grins at Siyun, doesn’t open the passenger door for him but waits for him to get inside before settling into the driver’s seat himself.

Siyun picked the movie, a horror one that intrigued him after seeing the trailer. Kyrell stared at him when he initially suggested it, “I’m not surprised that you’d be into horror. But if you end up getting scared after choosing the movie, I will definitely make fun of you,” he had said. Siyun decided not to call him out on on the anxious edge to his smile.

Now, both of them are seated with a large popcorn bucket resting on Kyrell’s thigh, titled towards Siyun to let him grab some when he wants. Kyrell tells Siyun about his coworker that got injured at work, and Siyun complains about seeing three performative matcha drinkers in a row on his last shift.

“It was funny but also kind of annoying,” Siyun says, “They were all dressed the same. Two of them walked in around the same time, looked at each other, then both of them ran away. The second guy didn’t even take his drink after I made it!”

Kyrell laughs, “Man, these guys are giving actual matcha enjoyers a bad rep.”

“Do you happen to know any?”

“Hey!” Kyrell turns from the trailer playing on the screen to fully face Siyun, “When have I ever done performative male things?”

“You walked in with a tote bag the other day. I’ve never seen you carrying one before.”

“It was Seungmo’s,” Kyrell whines, “One of my bag straps broke and he was being annoying and only let me borrow his tote bag even though he had a perfectly functioning back pack, that he wasn’t even using, by the way, in my car.”

Siyun laughs at him and the lights dim just as Kyrell is mumbling something about liking matcha before it became a trend. After two more trailers and a reminder to put phones on silent, the movie starts playing.

It starts off the way most horror movies do, in a seemingly normal setting until the main character runs into something related to the ghost. Siyun wouldn’t say he’s the bravest person in the world, but he can usually manage to get through a horror movie easily. The jump scares get him to flinch, though.

About halfway through the movie, Kyrell passes the popcorn bucket to Siyun, whispering, “It’s only fair if you hold it for a bit,” And just as he finishes the sentence, the ghost screams on the screen and he flinches, a hand grabbing Siyun’s bicep out of reflex. He retracts it quickly, muttering an apology and turning his attention back to the screen.

Kyrell flinches a few more times after that, whispering complaints to Siyun about how stupid the main character is and his lack of survival skills. He doesn’t grab onto Siyun again and he doesn’t know why he feels disappointed by that.

“Maybe we should go to a haunted house next,” Kyrell suggests, stretching his arms above his head while they walk out of the theatre, “You don’t seem to get scared at all. Or maybe a horror escape room with the others. That would be fun.”

“You want to?” Siyun questions, “You seemed a little scared back there, though?”

“It’s normal to get scared by jump scares. That’s the whole point of them,” Kyrell defends, “If we went with the others I think I would laugh too much at Brian to be scared.”

Siyun hums, disbelieving.

“Want to get ice cream?” Kyrell asks, “The popcorn made me crave something sweet.”

They step outside to where the shops and restaurants are lined up, shivering slightly when a gust of wind passes by, “You want ice cream in this weather?”

“This is the perfect weather for ice cream. Come on,” Kyrell links their arms together, leading them down the path, “If you don’t want any, you can just watch me eat. I don’t like eating alone.”

Siyun ends up eating ice cream with Kyrell, just so he doesn’t look weird watching his friend eat. Kyrell suggests they take a walk around the block and Siyun can’t find it in himself to refuse. Then, Kyrell drives him home and that’s the end of that.

“You look happy,” Jiho starts, already waiting for him on the couch. Siyun was expecting as much. Rather, he’s more surprised that Brian isn’t also there, considering how often he seems to occupy their apartment recently.

“Why are you sitting there like a parent waiting for their kid that stayed out past curfew.”

“Because you did stay out past your curfew.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Yes, you do. A self-inflicted one.”

Siyun rolls his eyes. It’s true that he doesn’t often stay out late, but it’s not as if he never does.

“So?” Jiho pats the empty spot next to him, waiting for Siyun to slouch back into the couch, “How was it?”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“I know. I’m just asking you how it was.”

“Only because you’re assuming it was a date,” Siyun argues, “It wasn’t. But it was good. I had fun.”

Jiho hums, pleased. He leaves it at that and Siyun pretends like he isn’t still thinking about it as he gets ready for bed.

After seeing the movie together, Siyun ends up going out for lunch with Kyrell three times, takes a baking class with him, and goes to an indoor golf stimulator with him, all in the span of two weeks.

Jiho eyes him suspiciously each time he leaves the apartment, a silent question of >em>Why are you suddenly going out so often with the same person? Siyun decides it’s better to ignore him.

His dynamic with Kyrell is mostly the same, but there’s one difference that’s become painfully obvious and Siyun doesn’t know what to do about it.

“You look cute in these,” Kyrell says, laughing while tilting his phone to Siyun. He’s leaning into Siyun’s space, their shoulders bumping together while he excitedly scrolls through his camera roll, showing off the pictures he took of Siyun from their baking class last week.

“When did you even take those?” Siyun sighs, ignoring the way the casual touch and the compliment make him want to scream.

Having realised that Siyun isn’t so against physical touch, Kyrell has become bolder about it. Or rather, he’s less conscious of trying to keep distance between and naturally throws an arm around his shoulders or rests a hand on his thigh for a beat too long. Siyun doesn’t exactly hate it, so he doesn’t complain.

The only other major change, that isn’t even entirely related to Kyrell, is that Seungmo stops by the cafe a lot more often now.

“No friend discount?” Seungmo asks with an exaggerated pout, “Wow. I can’t believe you, Siyunnie.”

Siyun rolls his eyes, “Go drink your chocolate milk and stop bothering me.”

“Are you shaming me for my choice of drink?”

“I would never.”

Seungmo glares, though the gesture loses its effect when he proceeds to take a sip of his hot chocolate, “Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he starts, “Do you know why Ky suddenly wants to go to a horror escape room?”

“We went to watch a horror movie together and he said it would be fun,” Siyun shrugs, busying himself with wiping a coffee stain on the pick-up counter.

Seungmo nods, then freezes, a look of shock passes over his face, “A horror movie? Like, at the theatre? On that huge screen and the loud ass speakers?”

“Obviously?”

Seungmo hums, something menacing flashing in his eyes, “Okay, gotta go.” He grabs his to-go cup and almost runs out of the cafe.

Siyun has learned that Kyrell and his friends, much like Siyun’s own, are weird and it’s only a waste of time to try and make sense of their actions. So, he lets the matter go and a week later, Seungmo slides up next to Siyun in the library and brings it again up on his own.

“Hi, Siyun,” he whispers, leaning into Siyun’s side.

Siyun sighs, pushing him gently with an elbow, “What do you want?”

“I have some information to share with you.”

“You’re here to bother me.”

“No.” Seungmo shakes his head, a hint of sincerity that convinces Siyun to let him continue. He probably won’t leave until he says what he wants to, anyway.

“Okay, fine. What do you want to tell me?”

“Kyrell hates horror movies,” he starts, “He’s only ever watched two in his life and the last time me and Brian tried to play a horror movie, he went to hide in his room.”

Siyun stares, “What?” His voice raises the slightest bit, sounding louder in the relative silence of the library, “Then why did he agree to watch one with me? He told me to pick but he could’ve said no.”

“If you want answers you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

It’s a weirdly ominous thing for Seungmo to do. Siyun feels insane for caring about a minor detail so much, too. People can have a change of heart and maybe Kyrell suddenly found a passion for horror. Siyun can’t judge him for that.

If Seungmo is right, though, Kyrell won’t just admit it so easily, not because he cares about embarrassing himself but more because he just likes to be a pain in the ass sometimes.

Siyun can’t just ask Kyrell, no, he has to be strategic about it.

“Do you want to watch that new Smile movie that came out?”

Kyrell pauses. Siyun hardly ever asks first, so it must come as a shock. He recovers quickly, though, “I haven’t watched the first one.”

A weak excuse.

“You don’t need to,” Siyun shrugs, “But if it matters, we can watch the first one before going to the second one.”

Kyrell smiles, or tries to, hesitance clear on his face. It’s not much of an indication, but if Kyrell had started enjoying horror movies, he wouldn’t falter.

Siyun is expecting him to give in. Instead, Kyrell sighs, “Sure.” He pulls his card out to pay for the extra chocolate donut he ordered, half-empty cup of coffee in his other hand, “You free on Friday? I can come over or you can come to mine to watch it.”

Seungmo is a liar, Siyun decides. Because instead of having something to tease Kyrell about, now he finds himself sitting on his couch on a Friday, waiting for Kyrell to come over and watch a movie that he was admittedly a little spooked out by.

Jiho kicks himself out of the apartment for the night, not wanting to be made subject to listening to the movie playing or walk out of his room and be met with a jump scare on the TV.

Kyrell rings the doorbell while Siyun gets the popcorn ready, hands filled with soft drinks, “I don’t know your favourite so I just got a bunch.” Kyrell sets the cans down on the counter, “I figured anything we don’t finish I can take home or you can keep in your fridge for later.”

Minutes later, they get settled on the couch. The popcorn bowl is placed between them, held by Siyun’s hand so it’s not balancing dangerously on the cushions and acting as a barrier - not intentional, of course.

“Do you like horror movies?” Kyrell asks after the movie has started. There’s nothing scary happening yet.

“Not really.”

“What?” Kyrell turns to face Siyun, an incredulous look on his face, “Then why do you keep suggesting them?”

Siyun shrugs, glancing at the other, “I’ve seen people talking about them and I got curious.”

It’s later in the movie, after the main character starts having visions from the monster, that Siyun feels that Seungmo may not have been lying. Much like the last time, Kyrell flinches during the jump scares. But he’s a lot more chatty, making small talk or asking random questions that have nothing to do with the movie.

Siyun stops paying attention to the movie altogether. He keeps his eyes on the screen, a last-ditch attempt to pretend to care about the plot.

Towards the end of it, when the popcorn has finished and neither of them can be bothered getting a refill, the bowl gets shifted to the coffee table. Without the barrier, Kyrell scoots closer, little by little, until they’re shoulder-to-shoulder and Kyrell grabs onto Siyun’s forearm whenever a character smiles on screen.

Siyun hates how much he’s enjoying it. He lets the movie play until the end, exiting when the end credits play.

Kyrell goes to the bathroom and when he comes back, Siyun admits, “Seungmo told me something the other day.”

“What did he say? Something embarrassing?”

“Maybe.”

Silence. And then, a groan.

“You can’t just start with that and not tell me what he said. Come on, Siyun. Was it about me?”

Siyun snorts, “He said you don’t like horror movies. Said you’ve only ever seen two in your life. Is that true?”

Silence again. But this time, there’s an edge to it. When Siyun glances at Kyrell, there’s something like guilt, or maybe embarrassment on his face, cheeks tinted pink.

Siyun stares, waits for Kyrell to defend himself or make up any sort of excuse. He doesn’t, though, and Siyun starts laughing.

“Don’t make fun of me!” Kyrell whines.

“Did you agree when I suggested that movie because you were scared I wouldn’t watch one with you otherwise?” Siyun asks, “Is this like when you kept coming to the cafe to spend time with me?”

“No,” Kyrell mumbles, slouching back into the couch with a pout, “I haven’t watched anything horror in a long time and I thought it wouldn’t be that bad.”

“Did you have nightmares?”

A pause, then, a mumble, “Possibly.”

Siyun laughs again, “We don’t need to watch the second one in the theatres," he says, “We can watch a different movie or just do something else altogether.”

Kyrell latches onto the change of topic, “How about golfing again?”

“What? So you can kick my ass again and feel good about yourself?”

“No!” Kyrell shakes his head, “You were doing pretty good last time. Better than that Seungmo guy.”

His hand finds Siyun’s and suddenly, Siyun can’t think of a response other than a nod of his head. Kyrell grins, pulling his phone out to book a room for them. His hand stays clutched around Siyun’s though, his thumb rubbing circles over his knuckles mindlessly.

Siyun feels like there’s too much air in his lungs, and still, he doesn’t want Kyrell to move away.

Siyun never ends up asking Kyrell why he actually decided to watch that movie with Siyun if he was so scared and of course, Seungmo won’t tell him either.

“What is wrong with Seungmo?”

Kamden and Mackiah came over today, Kamden because he was promised a home-cooked meal by Siyun and Mackiah because he loves his friends too much to miss out on things like this. Jiho got dragged into helping prepare the ingredients, grumbling about how he’s being made to be a slave in his own home.

Mackiah is the first to reply, “Don’t talk about him behind his back like that!”

“I didn’t even say anything! I just asked a question.”

“But the insult was implied and I will not stand for mean things being said to my best friend.”

“Oh, so he’s your best friend now?” Jiho pipes up, “What about us?”

Kamden sighs, the only one nice enough to listen to Siyun as he lets the two argue, “What did he do?”

So, Siyun tells him about the Kyrell thing and Kamden only stares at him with an exasperated look on his face.

“If you can’t figure it out, then that’s on you, Siyun. I’m sorry.”

Mackiah and Jiho, apparently having eavesdropped while arguing amongst themselves, start laughing.

Siyun frowns. It’s not as if he considers himself a Kyrell expert, but it’s odd that someone who avoids scary movies like the plague and would suddenly agree to watching one for someone they barely know. Then again, Kyrell seems like the type to get into all sorts of hobbies if it meant spending more time with his loved ones.

He wishes Seungmo never said anything to him. At the very least, he could’ve avoided feeding that part of his mind that reads into people’s actions a little too much, that hopes for too much.

It doesn’t help that Kyrell still comes to the cafe often. He’s been trying new things on the menu and rating them. So far, he’s given Siyun’s favourite drink a six out of ten and said that Jiho’s favourite muffin was too dry.

“I refuse to serve him.” Jiho comes into the back, tugging at Siyun’s arm, “He wants to order the peanut butter cookies and if he says anything bad about them, I will strangle him.”

Siyun snorts, letting himself be pushed towards the counter, “Jiho’s gonna blacklist you soon,” he says to Kyrell.

Kyrell laughs, “I apologised! I didn’t know he liked those muffins that much.”

Siyun hums. He finishes taking Kyrell’s order and brings it out to him and, because there’s no other customers waiting to order, he waits for Kyrell to take a bite from his cookie.

“I’ve had better,” Kyrell shrugs, “But I give it a six.”

Siyun huffs, “Go get your cookies from that other place, then. Stop bothering us.”

Kyrell grins, a glint in his eyes, “Are you jealous I go to other cafes?”

“What? No?” Siyun stares, incredulous.

By the following week, Kyrell had tried most things on the menu. He’s brutal with his food ratings, Siyun has learned, likely something that he and Mackiah talk about a lot.

They have less time to hang out now with the semester getting busy, so Siyun hardly ever sees Kyrell outside of his visits at work. He uses the cafe as a study spot, waits until closing time and leaves when Siyun does, or walks in first thing in the morning.

Jiho complains that Kyrell visits more when Siyun is working and Kyrell shrugs, “‘Cause I like Siyun.”

He says it casually, an easygoing smile on his face and changes the topic, promises Jiho that they can play badminton together soon and leaves for class after getting his matcha. Jiho doesn’t say anything more either and Siyun feels like he’s going insane for staying stuck on that comment for so long.

To make matters worse, Kyrell continues to say things like that. He tells Siyun that he likes it best when he makes his matcha, even though all the staff are trained the same way and there’s not much of a difference. He says the chocolate cookies taste better when Siyun hands it to him, which is stupid, because how can the taste change based on who packs the cookie into a paper bag?

“You wanna know what I think?’ Jiho asks.

“No, I really don’t,” Siyun sighs. He shouldn’t have said anything to Jiho.

“I think,” he starts anyway, “that you know exactly what Kyrell is doing but you’re in denial.”

Siyun groans. He knows that, he really does. He’s not insecure by any means, he knows that hypothetically, if he tried putting himself out there, he could be dating someone now. But the thought of being in a relationship scares him. Or rather, fear over whether he’s capable of showing such constant love and affection towards another person.

If he’s reading things right, and if Jiho isn’t setting him up for failure by entertaining it, he doesn’t know if he can give Kyrell the kind of attention he deserves.

“Stop thinking so much,” Kamden tells him when he inevitably finds out about his concern, “Kyrell is your friend and he knows what you’re like. And if you like him enough, I know that you’ll put in the effort for him so just let it happen.”

He doesn’t know the full story, only that Kyrell is not-so-subtlely flirting with Siyun. That small bit of advice helps Siyun come to a decision, though - if Kyrell initiates, Siyun will accept, but he won’t be the first to make a move.

Siyun continues to pretend to be clueless when Kyrell, as Mackiah had called it, gives him special treatment. Which should deter him. Instead, it only seems to fuel Kyrell further. So much so that a few days later when he visits the cafe, he waits for Siyun to see him outside the window and waves at him with a grin.

Kyrell doesn’t walk in like he usually would, though. Siyun is about to turn away to grab a spray bottle and a cloth to clean a table, but pauses when Kyrell gets closer to the window and blows air onto it. He makes a little patch of fog, then draws something on there.

Siyun squints, follows the movement of Kyrell’s finger and freezes when he’s done. It takes a second to register, then a second more for the heat to crawl up from the back of his neck to his ears and finally to his cheeks.

It’s stupid, the way it makes Siyun flustered, that is. It’s only a simple heart and a question mark next to it, two symbols that Kyrell might have drawn mindlessly - Siyun has seen the doodles in his notebook, sometimes random, sometimes not. He knows that it isn’t the case now, though. There’s more behind it, a question that Siyun doesn’t feel fully equipped to answer at this exact moment.

But he’s running out of time to stand and stare and think. Kyrell is opening the door now, walking into the cafe and right towards Siyun like he has tunnel vision.

Siyun panics, beelining towards the back and pushing Jiho towards the counter, who only splutters in confusion while trying not to spill chocolate sauce, “It’s not busy. You can handle the store alone for a few minutes, can’t you?”

The words come out desperately enough that Jiho sighs in response, “What happened? Are you okay? Should I be worried?”

Siyun shakes his head, “Just need a minute. Tell Kyrell to wait.”

Jiho raises an eyebrow at him but does as asked without another question. Siyun speed walks to the break room. He sits for a few minutes staring at the wall, contemplating. While he had made up his mind to reciprocate should Kyrell actually initiate something, he hadn’t expected it to actually happen, or at least not so soon.

He stays there for a few minutes longer, taking his time to gather his thoughts, mostly because he knows that Kyrell will still be there by the time he goes back out. He doesn’t know if he should be glad about that or not, the fact that Kyrell would wait for him even when he leaves without an explanation.

“You know,” Jiho starts when Siyun comes back, “You’ve been here since this morning and you haven’t actually taken a break yet. Go take a walk with him.” He starts untying Siyun’s apron for him, taking it off over his head and hanging it up with the rest.

“What?”

Jiho only nods towards Kyrell, who’s currently sitting at the nearest table to the counter and doing a very bad job at pretending to be occupied with his phone. He gives himself away when he glances up and makes eye contact with Siyun, quickly turning away as if that can erase the fact that he’s been caught.

Siyun sighs fondly at the awkward sight, a side of Kyrell that he rarely sees now, “Come on,” he says, just loud enough for his voice to be heard by Kyrell as he walks over to him. Jiho throws a jacket at the back of his head and runs to the back before Siyun can retaliate.

They walk in silence out of the cafe, then down the path and to an area closer to the local park. There’s not many people around at this time, only a few passing by with their dogs or on their daily jog.

Kyrell stops abruptly under a tree, standing close to the park fence so he isn’t blocking the path and Siyun does the same.

It’s awkward between them, a tension that tells Siyun what’s about to come.

“Okay, first of all, I want you to know that I value our friendship very much and I didn’t try getting closer to you only because I wanted to date you. I mean, there was that too, of course, but it wasn’t the only reason!” Kyrell is staring right at Siyun, and there’s an evident pout in his voice as he continues, “Can you at least look at me while I’m over here laying my heart out for you?”

Siyun snorts, though it comes out forced. He’s trying to be calm and pretend like this isn’t affecting him as much as it is. But the truth is, Siyun hasn’t dated anyone since high school, which was a very short-lived relationship that lasted about a month. His friends have tried setting him up with people, all of which ended in failed dates. So he feels a little out of his depth here and his best coping mechanism is to fake nonchalance.

Still, this is Kyrell. Kyrell, who’s being very genuine and Siyun isn’t so horrible that he wouldn’t show respect for that.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, ignoring how hot his face feels the second his eyes meet Kyrell’s.

“It’s fine,” Kyrell breathes out, then clears his throat, “Seungmo said I was being really obvious but I think you’re kind of dense, so let me say this properly. I like you, Siyun, and if it’s okay with you, I’d like to take you out on a date.”

Siyun blinks. He was expecting the last part, and it makes his heart race like crazy and he’s pretty sure the people on the other side of the road can see how red he is but-

“You insult me before asking me out? What kind of confession is that?”

Kyrell whines, “Why are you focusing on all the details? Can you just tell me yes or no so I can go cry into my pillow if I got this all wrong?”

It’s a bit ridiculous, this whole thing. Siyun was expecting some heartfelt confession, which he got, but the banter mixed in with it makes him laugh.

“Yes, I will go on a date with you. There. Happy?”

Kyrell stares at him, lips twitching like he can’t quite believe Siyun’s words and doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, “Really? You’ll go out with me? Like, because you like me too?”

Instead of answering immediately, Siyun turns away, letting his eyes follow a balloon that some kid must have let go off floating higher up into the sky, “Yes,” he says simply. Then, just to be annoying, “You could’ve just asked that one question and left it at that, by the way.”

Kyrell huffs. And, rather than receiving some clever comeback, Siyun feels a hand wrap around his elbow, pulling and forcing him to twist his body back around to face Kyrell. Another hand comes up to his shoulder, tugging him forward, and soon a cold pair of lips press against his forehead.

Siyun freezes. The gesture isn’t unwelcome, of course, and Kyrell’s grip on him was loose enough for him to pull away. But he didn’t, because he didn’t want to. And suddenly, he feels disappointed that Kyrell pulled away so soon.

“Sorry, should’ve asked,” Kyrell mumbles.

When Siyun looks at Kyrell moments later, as the shock slowly wears off, the other boy’s cheeks are still red and he’s looking past the fence of the park next to them at a dog chasing a tennis ball.

With some random surge of courage that Siyun didn’t think he had, he reaches up to cup Kyrell’s cheeks between his palms, and leans closer slowly. Kyrell’s eyes widen with shock but he does nothing to stop Siyun, and with that as silent permission, Siyun closes the distance and pecks Kyrell’s lips. Except it’s not his lips, it’s off center and Siyun pulls away too quickly to correct his mistake.

“I should go,” Siyun backs away, “It might be getting busy around now and my break isn’t actually that long.”

“Your break is 30 minutes,” Kyrell argues. His eyes staring right at Siyun’s lips, “It’s probably only been ten minutes since we left and won’t someone else start their shift around now, anyway?”

“Shut up,” Siyun starts walking backwards, using the way Kyrell is still clearly out of it to run away without letting the other respond.

Kyrell calls out behind him, a promise to text him about their date and that Siyun is unfair or something. Siyun grins the whole way back, slowing down to a walking pace when he’s far enough and ignoring the look Jiho gives him.

He has a date to worry about. He can deal with his nosy roommate later.