Work Text:
“Got stood up by your date?”
Nanon has been fiddling with his pen for the last hour or so when he hears it. It breaks him out of his spell of staring at the ringed planet embellished in rose gold on the cover of his pink composition notebook.
Caught off guard, Nanon replies an unintelligent, “huh?”
There’s an amused laugh that rings in front of him. Nanon looks up and is met with warm brown eyes that crinkle like crescent moons. They’re darker than Nanon’s own brown irises, but they reflect the string lights made of little stars hanging behind Nanon and sparkle brightly like the ones in the night sky.
The man gazes down at Nanon so deeply, lulling him in for a moment. It looks familiar, almost too intimate for locking eyes this intensely for the first time, and too sentimental as if they’ve lived their past lives drowning in a sea of looks like that. It’s the kind of gaze that leaves one winded. Nanon thinks he’s never had anyone else look at him like that in his entire life, which is stupid, considering that it’s only supposedly the first time they’ve ever really interacted tonight.
Nanon blinks up at him, raking his gaze from the man’s heart-shaped forehead framed nicely by perfectly coiffed hair down to his beautiful beam of a smile. Nanon’s a picturesque view of a silly man captivated with one look.
“Your date?” the guy says again.
The guy flashes a row of white teeth, his alluringly plump lips stretching out further. They’re glossy and has a tint of pink. He looks kissable. Especially his lower lip. Nanon stares, distracted, then looks back up again to admire just how every feature converges into such an unfair and stupidly handsome face that he wants to trace his fingers on every expanse of skin.
Well. That sounds like a lot. So much for a first impression, but then again, this man is a mesmerizing piece of art.
Another chuckle and Nanon finally breaks out of his trance.
The man waves a hand over Nanon’s face.
“Hey?”
Right. Stood up.
Nanon’s face burns in embarrassment, a rosy flame in his cheeks rivaling the dark pink apron the guy he recognizes as the barista is wearing. Nanon looks anywhere but him, eyes wildly searching around the cafe—
“Sorry, let’s reset this conversation—”
Barista guy sees the sudden panic in Nanon and offers him a kind smile.
“No need to. I'm just joking,” he says lightheartedly. Too tenderly. A drop of sympathy in his voice like he wants to be comforting.
It makes Nanon’s heart squeeze a little, an uncontrollable twinge that makes him hold his breath.
“Ah, yes. Of course.”
“I just noticed your coffee's gone cold. It seems like you’ve barely touched it. Was there a problem with the drink?”
It must have been a while since Nanon even sipped from his mocha latte. It’s gotten cold ever since the other man behind the counter handed it to him earlier when he first got here. But he’d been too anxious to touch it, afraid it’ll heighten up his nervousness this evening.
Nanon looks down at the said cup. The milk foam on top already started disintegrating, making puny bubbles on the surface around the carefully curated heart on his latte. The air pockets perfectly recapitulate the holes in his self-confidence, his pride deflating along with every minuscule fizz that comes up around the heart and in his throat the more time ticks by.
“No, the coffee was fine. You're right though, I got stood up,” Nanon says, finally remembering to speak. He feels a pout protrude out of his own lips. With a deep sigh, he composes himself better. He wraps a palm around the pink mug, anchoring himself, and adds on a sulky, “I wasted a good cup of coffee, huh?”
He must look pitiful right now, his old guitar bag with random doodles on it slung over the back of his seat and a cold cup of coffee in front of him. He can't even look at the cute barista in the eye, afraid he'd look even more pathetic.
“And it wasn't a date, by the way,” Nanon adds, wincing at how cringey he sounds. “I mean, it actually doesn't matter, it's whatever. I was just—I don't mean, yeah, not a date.”
Wow, it’s as if all his amazing articulateness has flown out the window. He’s usually much smoother than this, but in the face of this certain guy—a handsome, foolishly charming guy—in front of him and his heart ringing erratically over his own voice, Nanon’s bumbling for words.
Nanon makes the mistake—is it really?—of finally looking up after that blunder.
Instead of being met with a weird look, all he gets is a sunshine smile, one that tracts all the way to the heights of the barista's cheeks. There's a visible dimple slit on one of his cheekbones, a tempting crater to rub a thumb over along with a light dusting of pink on his skin.
It feels like Nanon’s worries wash away with such an amicable expression. Nanon’s easily a goner, the drumbeat in his chest like loose cannons.
“I figured it wasn't unless if you like to serenade people on the first date,” Barista guy says, lifting his hand to do a little air strum.
Nanon fails at not smiling at the easy silliness of it all, the corners of his mouth unconsciously tugging upwards.
“Anyway, you probably deserve a good cup of coffee regardless, so I was going to offer a replacement for your drink,” he pauses, leaning over the seat in front of Nanon, and then adds teasingly: “not a free drink from a date, by the way. I don't mean that either.”
Nanon isn't sure if he's flexing his arms, but they surely look amazing. Like barista guy has been working out consistently all his life, but it’s even more perceptible because of how snug his sweater is on him under the fluorescent lights. He looks extremely nice in his tight, light pink sweater, which Nanon is coincidentally matching with his striped baby pink and white knit sweater. Nanon wonders about all the hard planes on his chest and probably washboard abs hiding underneath it all.
It's likely rude to be staring, but Barista guy looks like a heaven-sent present in human form, his skin golden and glimmering and the diffused lights behind him haloing his smiling face.
“Unless you want it to be?” Nanon hears.
There's a big swoop in Nanon's belly that may be a potential mixture of embarrassment, endearment, and arousal over something as silly as a free coffee offer and, well, the offeror.
Nanon blinks furiously, trying not to look so stupidly enthralled. He’s failing very dramatically at this.
“Right,” Nanon says, “not… a date.”
“Just checking.” Barista guy laughs, bright and jolly, and Nanon's heart aches as if that laughter is a backtrack of a hit song.
What's this feeling, what can it be? it echoes in his head. What's going on, what can this be?
Stupid romantic. Of course, he knows what's going on—he's being obtusely attracted to this guy against his will! He already has a few lines whipped up and the words dancing to an upbeat melody in his head.
“Well. I'll be back with your coffee, alright?” Barista guy lingers just for a moment. “I do have to warn you, it's the last call for tonight, but feel free to let me know if you need anything until lights off.”
Nanon’s breath stutters at those words and the unexpected wink that comes his way. He doesn’t have time to respond as the guy starts walking away. Nanon looks like deer caught in the headlights as he tries not to wonder if cute Barista guy means something else when he said lights off.
Upon an afterthought, Barista guy turns around, catching Nanon’s flustered expression. He has a cute tilt to his head and a playful smile.
“Sorry, that was a little cringey. Please don’t leave until I come back.”
He makes a cute finger gun towards Nanon as if his smile is already not enough to send love shots to Nanon’s heart. After realizing that maybe that made it even worse, he tuts back behind the counter as if chastising himself. He’s scratching the back of his neck in a flustered manner which is so unexpected. It makes Nanon laugh, just how this guy is. The laughter fills up his chest and reduces the heaviness weighing him down.
Is this the guy’s attempt at flirting? Because if so, he's not the only awkward one it seems. It’s definitely… working.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Nanon says a little too loudly after him.
Somewhere in the café, a few giggles echo like they’re an audience to both Nanon and the Barista guy’s embarrassment.
Nanon thinks he needs to immediately whip his notebook out and write down the cheesiness melting in his head before Barista guy comes back, but instead, all he has is a stupid grin that he tries to mask off by pursing his lips together, only to fail terribly and be so obvious about it with the remnants of his fondness displayed through the deep craters on his cheeks. His notebook gets put into good use to hide his bashful state, his button nose smooshed onto the pages of his own scribbles.
He peers once, twice, three times like a silly scene from a romantic movie.
Barista guy still has the same shy grin plastered on his face even when he’s not looking at Nanon, and it takes a lot for Nanon not to feel happiness emanate out of him.
Once Barista guy is back and busy behind the counter, seriousness smoldering his face as he works on his craft, Nanon leans on his seat and takes his guitar out, trying his best not to keep taking peeks at the counter across him. Next to his notebook, he takes his pink guitar pick and puts it between his lips as he crosses his legs and nestles the guitar on top of his thigh.
Nanon thinks about the potential recruiter he was supposed to meet today as he does his first strum. The one he thought could have been The One who will sign him as a musician.
It should feel just like every other rejection he's had over the last few years. It's not something he didn't consider happening, but he's used to them rejecting him without even listening to his demos.
But this one supposedly did. They've emailed back and forth, even video-called a performance in. Nanon looked forward to it, hope blooming inside him and reflecting in every excited strum he'd been playing, in the way love songs filled his apartment in the last few days.
He thought this could be it, the chance to prove himself, an opportunity for change.
Maybe it's not meant for him yet. Maybe fate has other plans for him.
Nanon plucks a few more strings of his guitar, playing it to the tune of one of his old songs. The gentle strum brings a profound memory from the past: him with a frown on his face, strumming the guitar as he sat on top of a concrete table; next to him was a smiling boy as radiant as the one across him, albeit a little younger and wearing his matthayom uniform.
Life really is too short to brood over something you cannot control, the boy told him, tapping the underside of his chin with a huge grin, so just play some music and sing to your heart’s content, Non.
Nanon breaks out of the trance down to memory lane.
The boy is right, even years later—Nanon needs to look at the brighter things in life instead. Like being able to witness this sunshine guy across him that's now putting what seems to be a baby pink coffee cup in a white saucer. He has a concentrated expression on as he balances it in both palms, almost too funny-looking for someone who should be experienced with holding cups like this for a living. He holds the saucer ever so carefully. When he looks up, their eyes meet.
Nanon throws him a nod of encouragement. The worry washes out of the man’s face and is replaced with a grin that rivals the bright specks of light twinkling around them as he makes his way back to Nanon’s table.
“Sorry it took a while,” Barista guy says, sliding into the seat across Nanon. He pushes the cup in front of Nanon sheepishly. He’s ditched his apron, and his pink sweater is fitting Extremely Well, so much that Nanon hasn't looked at the cup, eyes trained on the curves on his chest. “I haven't done this before, but I figured it might make you feel a bit better.”
And when Nanon looks down at the cup, a smiling, pawing kitten with dimples stares right back at him along with a ladyfinger cookie on the plate with, “smile for me?” etched on it.
Nanon is genuinely surprised. He can't help but burst into a fit of laughter, little chuckles of joy echoing in the café.
It’s the brightest his smile has been over the last few days. Perhaps even the last few months.
“It’s… a masterpiece,” Nanon manages to say, truly enamored. “Are those dimples?”
Barista guy grins. “I’m very good with details.”
Nanon snorts. “Or just flirting—” Nanon catches himself, “You know what? Forget I said that.”
Smoothly, Barista guy says, “So, you think I’m flirting with you?”
“Are you?”
Not even a beat has passed. “What do you think?”
Nanon bites his upper lip to avoid smiling, but also from answering the real question. “Do you do this with all of your customers?”
It doesn’t go unnoticed. “You didn’t answer my question first.”
“I—” Nanon stutters with a small chuckle, “You first.”
A loud snort comes from behind the counter.
Barista guy whips his head towards the sound with a half-annoyed scowl. He clicks his tongue at the visibly older man wearing glasses, armed with a sharp chin and a teasing smile. His eyebrows come all the way up his forehead as he wipes the counter quite dramatically. He’s got a familiar face that reminds Nanon of a fun uncle in the family or oddly specific enough, a sassy and memorable pharmacist he met once a few years ago.
Nanon shakes his head fondly.
Barista guy taps the table to get his attention back, although frankly, it’s never left.
“You know what, I don’t think I’m at liberty to say either,” Barista guy finally says, his smile sheepish. He nods towards the guitar on Nanon’s lap. “Anyway, do you also sing?”
Nanon puts his arms over his guitar, balancing it over his lap. He smiles gently, reaching out to hold the kitten cup between his palms. The warmth of the cup takes up his senses, and yet the fluttering butterflies in his stomach as Barista guy’s presence from across the table continues to overcome anything else.
“Yeah, I do,” Nanon says, peering up at Barista guy for a short-lived moment before his gaze goes back to the cup.
Nanon takes his first sip instead of talking more, but the guy seems to understand he’s not done talking.
The latte tastes more like hot chocolate and less like coffee, just like how he asked for it earlier in the evening. One less espresso shot because it's late. There are tiny marshmallows that have slightly melted along with the chocolate that leaves a sweet aftertaste in his tastebuds. He smiles into the cup, the kitten art staring back at him.
The drink reminds him of a very particular thought: a feathery first kiss under a streetlight and lips with remnants of hot chocolate; petrichor filled the air, and the cicadas harmonized with soft exhales puffing across someone else’s face as one kiss turned into two; and like a phantom dream, a soft whisper of a goodnight under the peering moonlight.
Nanon doesn’t make an effort to hide his reminiscent smile as he puts the cup down.
“Good?” Barista guy prods.
“Somehow tastes like good memories,” is all Nanon says.
And just like that, it seems like Barista guy is in on a secret with the way he gives a half smile and leans back on his chair.
“You do this with everyone you meet, too?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Nanon says, nonchalant.
“Make them want to keep asking you questions.”
Nanon shrugs pleasantly. “You didn’t ask me anything else.”
“It somehow feels like I don’t need to.”
It feels like they’re no longer talking about the cup of coffee in front of Nanon.
“Well, if you really want to know,” Nanon finally says, deflecting, “I was supposed to meet a recruiter today but—” he waves his other hand around, “you already know.”
“Doesn't mean you're not good.” Barista guy shrugs, right back on track with the conversation. “Don't let them decide your worth.”
Nanon laughs lightly at that, even though the words themselves resonate within the deep crevices of his mind where another voice resides.
You’re amazing. Don’t forget that!
As if Barista guy has perfect timing, the same words tumble out of his mouth, unknowingly orchestrating a symphony in Nanon’s chest.
“It’s true,” Barista guy says confidently. “I’m sure you’re amazing.”
“You haven't even heard me sing,” Nanon replies, amused.
“I heard you talk. With that kind of voice, I bet you can sing,” Barista guy says slickly.
Nanon takes a sip to hide another smile behind his cup, but one of his eyebrows is raised questioningly. “I’m starting to get convinced this is really how you charm all of your customers.”
"Does that mean it's working?"
"See what I mean?"
A laugh, followed by his own.
“No, I swear. I’m usually stuck behind the counter.” Barista guy shakes his head, eyes twinkling. “I heard you whisper-singing earlier while you were waiting. I’m not joking; I think you could be amazing.”
Barista guy is such a sweet talker. A waterfall of compliments flowing continuously that make Nanon feel warm all over.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Nanon says, giving in. “It could be better, I promise. I’m working on it.”
“Yeah?” Another smile. “You know I've been looking to start having live performances at this place.” Oh? Barista guy owns this café? “If you want, you can come back and play when we get the stage set up.”
Nanon can't help himself. “Are you asking to see me again after tonight?” he quips.
Barista guy blinks up at him cutely. “…Of course.”
Nanon laughs at the unsure way he answered that. “For work, right?”
“If you want,” Barista guy says a little too fast. “To come back, I mean. Coffee and dessert on the house for next time?”
“Shouldn't I be playing for you right now first?” Nanon says. “To determine if I'm actually good?”
“I trust you.” The answer comes swiftly. It makes a swoop in Nanon's belly once more. “And besides, what if you bail on the next time?”
Nanon’s heart swells. “Then you don't see me again.”
“Well, that's not the point, is it?”
Nanon tries his best not to smile like an idiot, but Barista guy is mirroring it right back.
Behind the counter, Funny Uncle makes a weird gagging noise a little too loudly.
“I'm not paid enough for this,” he says, which makes Nanon and Barista guy turn towards him. Funny Uncle takes off his pink hat and hangs it at the corner along with his pink apron. He leers at them, then gives Barista guy a salute. “I'm heading out, boss. Good luck with… whatever that is.”
The chime of the bell on the door echoes as Funny Uncle leaves the place, leaving Nanon alone with this guy. It gets followed by boisterous laughter that somehow complement each other harmoniously.
“What’s his deal?”
“Maybe he’s jaded from seeing all the dates that happen in this café.”
“So, now you think this is a date?”
Barista guy grins like it’s a competition on who can get each other flustered faster. “It can be up for consideration now. I did just draw a smiling kitten for you.”
“I—” Nanon thins his lips, holding a smile back in defeat. “You’re way too smooth for this to be your first time.”
Barista guy clutches his chest dramatically. “My ruse has been discovered.”
It surprises Nanon just how easy it is to fall into matching giggles with Barista guy. The comfort and inability to withhold their snorts like they’ve been doing this for such a long time. Nanon cradles his cup in his palms, lifting it up to hide his flushed cheeks as soon as their laughs die down.
They sit there just for a moment, a jazzy love song playing and setting the mood for a dreamy lull until Barista guy slides his chair backwards.
“I'm going to wrap up closing. Feel free to finish your cup and...” he hesitates, scratching the back of his neck, unsureness tingling from his fingertips. “Maybe you can play for me later? Just one song.”
“What happened to ‘I trust you’?” Nanon teases.
Barista guy sports a sheepish smile. “Maybe I just want to spend more time with you.”
“I'll wait for you then,” Nanon says resolutely without any reservations. “Can't pass up on free dessert, right?”
Barista guy's eyes light up like a Christmas bonfire. Barista guy just has that kind of smile—the one you see in movies that makes one swoon and your heart stutter in your chest. A smile that lodges air pockets in your throat.
“I’ll be back right away!” and off he goes waddling back to the kitchen with an excitable bounce in his steps.
Barista guy's just overflowing with so much cuteness and charm. Nanon likes seeing him smile like this—genuine and foolproof, like he’s enjoying his time with Nanon just as much as Nanon is.
Nanon finishes his cup just in time for Barista guy to turn off the main lights in the store. He leaves the string lights on, leaving a cozy ambiance around them. He emerges by Nanon’s table with a black helmet tucked under his arm and a to-go dessert box in one hand.
Barista guy sets the box down Nanon’s table. Below the film on the container, Nanon sees a heart-shaped strawberry pink cake with a dark pink macaron on top.
A chin dimple has disastrously escaped. “You’re already giving your heart to me.”
It feels like the words just rolled out so effortlessly, Nanon has to bite his lower lip after saying it. With one look at Barista guy, though, it makes it irresistible to keep talking.
“Aren’t you moving too fast? You haven’t even heard me sing yet.”
“Well, now you have to give it your best shot,” the guy answers back cheekily. A challenge. “Have you picked your song yet?”
“I have one just in mind,” Nanon says, not meeting the man’s eyes.
Instead, Nanon looks out the window to the vast and glittering night sky and plucks the first chord to a familiar song.
No matter how far I go, here’s where I stay. Sitting here, gazing at the starts in the night. Though millions of them shine so bright, None of them catches my eye. Only one star is in my sight.
And with that line, Nanon’s body thrums with courage, looking at the only person in the room that could rival the brilliance of stars in the sky.
Though it’s been long since we’ve been apart, Though many have come and passed, None of them catches my eye. Only you are in my sight.
It should be unwarranted, the evocative sparkle in the man’s eyes, almost as if they can see through Nanon. It feels weird, feeling seen through his music as if every line comprised of a story of its own and that this man—a stranger to Nanon’s life—can empathize with the oscillations of each string.
When Nanon lets the last strum reverberate in the air, he pulls back albeit too consciously more out of embarrassment than uncomfortableness with the way the man’s peering up at him, his face a look of an overwhelming understanding.
“What?” Nanon says, because the stillness is astounding and all he can hear now is the thundering in his ears.
“I told you you’d be amazing,” the man says softly.
Nanon’s breath hitches, an inexplicable spread of warmth in his chest. It feels like validation. Words of recognition Nanon didn’t realize could hold so much power over him, a sense of pride swelling within him.
“Yeah?”
“Whoever you write songs about must be very lucky,” the man whispers, and then, after a beat of palpable admiration that maybe the two of them realized could be too much, the man joyously adds in an awkward chuckle and a joking, “It must be nice! I’ve always wanted to have someone write a song about me.”
“Yeah.” Nanon’s face falls a little, his smile softer now. “But not when they don’t know it’s for them.”
There’s a perplexed crease between the Barista guy’s eyebrows. “Do you think they know?”
Nanon meets Barista guy’s gaze as if it will enlighten him with clarity.
“Do they?”
Nanon’s heart feels like it’s about to jump out of his chest. He watches the way the crease on Barista guy’s forehead sooths out and replaced with apprehensive eyes that slowly linger from Nanon’s own down to his lips.
He didn’t realize he’d been chewing on his upper lip out of nervousness. Nanon inhales and releases it, feeling the tenderness on the top of his lips.
It doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Your lips…”
Nanon exhales softly, parting his lips in anticipation. “Yeah?”
A few seconds of silence. Nanon wonders for a moment if he’s imagining the distance slowly closing between him and Barista guy or if it’s just his wistful imagination.
Out of habit, he does it again.
It feels like he’s broken the other man out of a trance.
Nanon is not sure about the disappointment trickling down him.
“It’ll get even more swollen if you keep doing that,” the man finally says, looking down to fumble with his pocket. “I have something that could help!” he says a little too enthusiastically before fishing out a Chapstick from his pocket.
Nanon may be a tad bit disheartened, but man smiles at him, plump lower lip jutting out so perfectly as he puts the Chapstick close to Nanon’s face. Nanon inspects the pink, tiny stick, reading through the label.
“It’s Cathydoll’s new lip balm. It has mint infused in it, so it’s really soothing.”
Nanon is about to reach out for it when the man quietly says, “Let me…”
And once again, Nanon feels the air punched out of him as the man leans into his space. A knee softly bumps into his, both of them now linked underneath the wooden guitar. Very carefully, the man lifts the lip balm towards Nanon, and Nanon pliantly parts his lips open so the man can cautiously apply it without touching him anywhere else.
The man is still looking at his lips even as he says, “There you go.”
“Thanks!” Nanon chirps too enthusiastically, pursing his lips again. Its minty flavor melts with the chocolate, leaving a familiar aftertaste in his mouth.
It’s like kissing someone who just had mint after drinking hot chocolate.
A fond smile envelops Barista guy’s face. “You’re doing it again.”
“Sorry,” Nanon says.
There it is again—a spellbinding gaze that keeps making Nanon feel like he’s going to drown his lungs filled with butterflies.
Finally, after this moment of massive distraction, Nanon averts his gaze. It lands on his cup again.
“Oh, sorry! I forgot about the cup.”
“Don’t worry, I can wash that later—”
The man reaches out for the cup at the same time that Nanon has the urge to hand him the cup, which he does so—only to pull back immediately as a spark ignites between them.
Barista guy gives him a knowing look, his gaze electric. “Good sign, I hope?”
“Sparks between us?” Nanon’s smile expands, shaking his head at Barista guy. “Maybe.”
The corner of Barista guy’s lips twitch into a hopeful smile. “Let’s turn that into a definitely?”
“Why does this conversation feel so familiar?” Nanon shakes his head at him, feeling enamored. He’s floored with an incomprehensible sensation of comfort as their eyes connect like an inaudible conversation.
“Maybe…” Barista guy trails off, still beaming, “Maybe in another universe, we’re also destined to meet. Maybe we’ve had this conversation already.”
Nanon makes a loud shuddering noise at the cheesiness of it. “That’s very sweet but…”
“But?”
Nanon tilts his head. “Maybe that’s a little bit…”
“A little much?”
“Definitely.”
“How do you know it wasn’t you who said this in another universe?” is all Barista guy says, knocking his knee against Nanon’s too comfortably.
A knowing smile slips into place. Then, Nanon says, “That person should work on his lines in that universe with you, then.”
“I think I definitely prefer this universe now,” Barista guy says, grinning. “Anyway, how much more time can I buy with pictures of my dogs?”
And as they share another laugh, Nanon’s heart continues to sing: no matter how far I go, here’s where I stay.
The cup stays forgotten in Barista guy’s hand as seconds tick into minutes and all the way until the moment they feel compelled to pull their connected knees back into a reasonable distance away.
*
It must have been longer than what they intended their conversation to last. Alas, the lateness of the evening shall part them, but the look the other man flashes Nanon makes hope hop happily for more nights like this.
Now, the scuffing of their shoes against the asphalt and the phantom sound of the front door’s bell ringing echo outside of the café. Behind them, the cafe is dimly lit except for the string bulbs that line the entrance, a great contrast against the green shrubs by the door. They stand idly side by side, smiling as they stare at the pavement ahead, the jazzy music replaced with the hum of the cicadas, a peaceful lull.
“So…” Nanon breaks the silence between them. He’s rocking between his heel and toes, one hand slung underneath the strap of his guitar by his shoulder. “When do I find out when this stage is finally set up?”
Barista guy turns towards him, eyes gleaming under the yellow hue of the bulbs behind them. It casts a golden highlight on his face, the top of his cheeks glimmering. He almost looks like a picturesque image from an old film that Nanon wants to frame up.
He's got a smile that makes Nanon's heart want to expand in his ribcage, the sad little holes from earlier in the night patched up by a giant band-aid in the form of a kitten asking for a smile and a puppy for a company.
“I can get your number.”
“For work purposes, right?”
“For whatever purpose you prefer.”
“I'd have to see,” Nanon says, wrinkling his nose. Barista guy seems to be... looking at his mouth. “It depends if whoever I'm giving it to has a name.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” Nanon hums. “Can't just give my number to a stranger who makes cute latte art and asks me to smile, right?”
“Touché.” Barista guy folds over and acts like he just got stabbed in the heart. “But I also don't know your name.”
“Nanon,” he says almost too quickly, too excitedly. “I'm an aspiring musician.”
“I'm Ohm,” Ohm says, pointing towards the sign over them, a pink heart with two golden retrievers inside it. “I own Golden Cafe.”
Ohm has his hand extended which Nanon thinks is silly. He adjusts his guitar strap as he looks down with a giggle, then reaches out to hold Ohm's hand.
The spark is there again, but they both don't pull away this time.
“Also,” Ohm’s lips curl while still holding his hand, “You've got...”
“Hm?”
With hands still clasped together, Ohm brings it up to wipe the top of Nanon's upper lip, his touch electric. Nanon blinks speedily at him, surprised.
“You had a chocolate mustache on,” Ohm whispers, gaze too tender and unquestionably reminiscent. “But you were too cute with it, so I had to save it for last.”
Nanon’s breath gets trapped in his throat. He’s breathless as Ohm runs a thumb on his upper lip again. He shudders under Ohm’s caress. When Ohm pulls the pad of his finger away, Nanon can still feel the phantom ghost of his touch.
“Right,” Nanon says, watching as Ohm seem to catch himself invading his space, even when they’ve spent the evening with the knobs of their knees attached intentionally. Ohm breaks away their clasped hands and turns away, and Nanon feels surprisingly empty, already missing the way Ohm’s fingers plastered themselves over his own. “Um, yeah, thanks for that,” Nanon says unsmooth, fluttering his eyelashes as he stares at the ground. “I should—I’ll see you soon,” is all he manages to say before pointing a thumb to his side.
“Yeah, I’ll see you,” Ohm says. “I hope sooner.”
“Uh, sure.”
He takes a step back, adding distance between them, and watches as Ohm’s confidence falters with confusion trouncing his appearance. Ohm turns to leave.
A hand reaches for Ohm’s forearm like a reflex.
“Ohm,” Nanon pauses as Ohm looks back at him with bated breath, “Do you think in the other universe, you called me back?” As if catching himself, he adds, “Even after that terrible pickup line?”
Ohm’s expression softens. “I think he probably did as long as he thought you wanted him to.”
Nanon’s heart thuds grandiosely with alarm.
Oh.
“Oh.”
Ohm’s laugh is springy. “He probably wanted to tell you so many things. So many what-ifs of how things could go in other parallel universes. Maybe he would’ve showed you his dogs like how he did today, asked to play with yours whenever you had time. I think,” Ohm’s eyes are misty, “I think that in that universe, they became best friends. Stayed... best friends.”
Ohm's face never looked this vulnerable all night. Nanon’s hold tightens on him.
“I’ll make sure to call then,” is all Nanon could reply to that.
The way Ohm’s face goes from zero to a level hundred beam of happiness upon hearing that makes Nanon's answer feel like a promise.
“Okay,” Ohm says, holding a palm over his hand. “I’ll look forward to it.”
“Okay,” Nanon repeats.
“Goodnight, Non.”
“Goodnight, Ohm.”
Finally, Nanon walks away with his heart fluttering. Ohm, unbeknownst to the other, walks into the opposite direction of where his bike is parked.
With every step Nanon takes, he hastens with speed until he sees past the wall of the back of the store and into the open field, running to his heart’s desire with an unmistakable smile engulfing his face. He wants to scream with excitement, to belt out the words drowning him inside his airway, but all he can really do is smile like a giddy madman with a palm over his chest as he finally stops in his tracks, inhaling all the air that he could because Ohm has once again knocked the air out of his lungs.
And when his racing heart finally comes down to a level that feels like his heart won’t explode with fireworks, Nanon turns back towards the small bungalow of the cafe, his gaze landing towards the dusty sky above it.
Amid all the specks of stars, the moon glistens as if it’s glimmering with a hopeful smile.
Then, from a distance, Nanon hears an audible, “cut!” and the fantasy of this alternate reality fizzles out.