Chapter Text
"Is that a double shot, skim milk, no-foam latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon?" Felix called out, his voice a gentle murmur above the hiss of the espresso machine.
The cafe buzzed with the chatter of students and young professionals, a pattern of orders and laughter that filled the air with an infectious energy. As he handed over the perfectly crafted drink, a tall figure with broad shoulders and a hint of a smile caught his eye. The man nodded in silent thanks, his dark hair contrasting sharply with the glow of the afternoon sun that streamed through the windows.
Felix had noticed the regular before. He was hard to miss, not just because of his height, but because of the way he carried himself—like a math book swaggering through a library. But today, something was different. Today, the man's eyes lingered a beat longer than usual, and there was a warmth to his smile that seemed to dance around the edges of his dimples.
Felix felt his cheeks flush as he turned away, his heart skipping a beat. He had been so caught up in his world of art and studies that he rarely had time to consider the possibility of romance. His friends had often teased him for his obliviousness, saying he was too pure for the world's games. But as he watched the man settle into his usual spot by the window, something stirred within him—a curiosity, a hope, a whisper of attraction that he hadn't felt in a long time.
Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Seungmin, and Jeongin., his band of protectors, had always looked out for him, shielding him from the harsher realities of love. They knew his heart was a canvas waiting to be painted on, but they also knew how easily it could be torn. Yet as he glanced over at them, sharing a knowing look with the man who had just ordered, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, they had been wrong all along.
The days that followed saw a pattern emerge. The man, who introduced himself as Bang Chan, grew bolder in his smiles and hellos, his eyes lighting up every time he saw Felix. And with each encounter, the barista felt his walls slowly crumbling, the possibility of love seeping through the cracks like the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans.
But as the weeks turned into months, the reality of their situation began to dawn on him. Chan was not only older but also a successful businessman, a mathematician with a sharp intellect who could slice through equations like a hot knife through butter. How could someone like that ever see him, a college student juggling part-time jobs and art projects, as anything more than a fleeting interest?