Chapter Text
Jihoon blinked slowly, feeling the weight of an entire sleepless night settling over him. He had spent the last several hours studying without a break, and now there were barely fifteen minutes left before he could finally leave class, go home, and collapse into a five-hour nap he felt he more than deserved. Meanwhile, the professor kept talking with an inexplicable amount of energy, as if there were still hours to go.
"Let's go," Siwoo said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
Jihoon blinked again, snapping out of his trance. He hadn't even noticed that the class had ended. He'd been zoning out, staring out the window with his mind completely blank.
They left the building and walked for a couple of minutes, crossing the main street that wrapped around the campus. The sun was already high, and the midday heat didn't help. Halfway down the street, Siwoo ran into Jaehyuk, his boyfriend, and wasted no time announcing that he'd be heading off to spend some time with him. Jihoon let out an annoyed sigh. Being in a relationship just wasn't for him, too much energy poured into someone else, too much attention, too many sentimental clichés.
"Hi, Jihoon," a pair of girls chimed in unison as they passed by, breaking into nervous giggles when he returned their greeting with a slightly awkward but polite smile.
A short while later, he was arriving at his mother's café. The place was surrounded by hanging plants and blooming pots, with a wooden storefront and a small chalkboard covered in doodles and the cheesy quotes his mother changed every day. The outdoor tables were packed with students and their open laptops, notebooks, papers... the usual.
Inside wasn't any different. Warm light streamed in through the open windows, as if spring itself had slipped in and decided to stay. The chairs were mismatched in color, and the walls were lined with shelves overflowing with books, hanging pots, and climbing plants. The air smelled of toasted bread, fruit, and freshly cut jasmine.
Jihoon stepped inside and headed straight toward the back. He went to the rear section where his mom usually organized everything, but after searching for a couple of minutes, he realized she wasn't anywhere to be found.
Perfect. Now he'd have to wait. More time away from his nap.
"Hello?" a voice said behind him, soft but steady. "Sorry, but you can't be back here."
Jihoon turned around, ready to say it was fine, that he was...
But the explanation never made it out of his mouth.
Standing in front of him was someone he had never seen in the café before.
The boy was wearing a black apron with the café's logo embroidered on one side. His hair was dark and straight, with a few strands falling carelessly across his forehead. He wore round, thin-framed glasses that did nothing to distract from his delicate features: a straight nose, soft lips, pale skin.
He was the most beautiful boy Jihoon had ever seen.
Jihoon stared at him for a second too long and then another. Who was this guy, and why had he never seen him before?
"Hello?" the boy repeated, a faint hint of discomfort on his face, as if he thought Jihoon hadn't heard him.
Jihoon blinked, snapping back into the moment.
"Oh yeah. Sorry. I'm... well, I'm the owner's son."
The boy blinked too, this time in surprise.
"Really? Uh... I didn't know. Sorry."
"No, it's fine. It's just that... I've never seen you around. Are you new?"
"Yeah, I started this week. I'm Sanghyeok."
Sanghyeok.
Jihoon repeated the name in his mind.
His name was just as beautiful as he was.
"Jihoon," he said, and for the first time all day, he smiled for real.
Sanghyeok nodded, still wearing that gentle expression on his lips, though he looked a bit uneasy with the situation. Before either of them could say anything else, the door opened behind them and his mother's unmistakable voice filled the room.
"Ah, Jihoonie! I was just about to call you. I thought you'd forgotten."
Jihoon turned as his mother hurried over, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek even with her hands full of a tray stacked with empty cups.
"Sorry, I got distracted talking to a customer." Then she looked at Sanghyeok and smiled. "I see you've already met Sanghyeokie."
"Yeah... something like that," Jihoon said, unable to stop himself from glancing at him again.
"He's a sweetheart, you have no idea how wonderful he is. The customers adore him," his mother said, using the same proud tone she usually reserved for freshly baked cookies.
Sanghyeok lowered his gaze with a shy smile.
Jihoon thought he was the closest thing to an angel on earth.
"I'm going back to work," Sanghyeok murmured, giving a small bow of his head before slipping away toward the counter.
Jihoon followed him with his eyes, as if he could hold him in place just by looking. But no. In two steps, he was already on the other side of the café, talking to an older woman with an iced tea and a kind smile.
Jihoon sighed, not bothering to hide it much.
"Did you bring what I asked for?" his mother said, pulling him out of his spring-like daydream. Jihoon blinked, as if suddenly remembering he had come here for a reason.
"Oh, right." He pulled a few papers from his backpack and handed them to her. "You're lucky. I almost forgot them."
"Oh, you saved me!" she said while skimming through them quickly. "If these didn't arrive today, I would've had to close tomorrow. And you already know what happens if I take even one day off: the whole country collapses."
Jihoon let out a small laugh, still sneaking glances toward the counter.
"Do you want me to help with anything?" he asked, trying to sound casual, though he didn't quite convince himself.
"What?" His mother looked up at him, bewildered.
"I don't know, maybe I can help. With the tables... or the orders. Or maybe bring something to... I don't know, to Sanghyeok, for example," he said, leaning subtly toward the open doorway, hoping to catch even a glimpse of dark hair.
His mother stared at him as if he had suddenly started speaking in another language.
"Are you feeling okay? Do you have a fever?" She placed a hand on his forehead with the full concern of a mother.
Jihoon pulled back with a grimace. "Can't I just be a good son who wants to help his mom?"
"You wouldn't help with anything even if it were a matter of life and death," she replied, raising an eyebrow while expertly grabbing a tray loaded with little cakes.
Jihoon followed her with hesitant steps, though his eyes were clearly on a completely different mission: an intense visual scan for a certain boy with glasses and a shy smile. So far, no results.
"Maybe today is the day I decided to change," he said with fake solemnity, stopping beside her behind the counter and staring at the coffee machine with a mix of awe and suspicion. How did anyone understand that thing?
His mother turned to look at him, still incredulous, arranging the desserts as she studied him.
"Are you sure?" she asked, narrowing her eyes and planting her hands on her hips as if she were evaluating a very elaborate lie.
Jihoon nodded with a seriousness that convinced absolutely no one.
"All right, then you can help Sanghyeok with the tables," she finally said. "Minseok didn't come today, so we're a bit short-handed."
Jihoon nodded again, putting on the apron as if he were gearing up for battle.
"Sanghyeok is the barista, right?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"And an excellent one," his mother replied with a smile, as if she were talking about her star employee.
For some reason, Jihoon wasn't surprised. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he had been hopelessly smitten with that boy for, what, five minutes? It wasn't like he had already imagined a couple of romantic scenarios involving coffee cups and flower pots. Nothing like that.
With a level of determination completely disproportionate to his zero experience, Jihoon finished adjusting the apron and switched himself into work mode. He had no idea how to do any of this, not even how to properly carry a tray, but he was willing to learn everything if it gave him a valid excuse to talk to Sanghyeok... and maybe, if luck was on his side, get his number.
His mother called Sanghyeok with the kind of gentleness one might use to summon a saint.
"Sanghyeok, sweetheart, could you teach Jihoon a bit about handling the tables?" she asked. "He's helping out today... he's just getting started." She shot her son a sideways glance, not entirely convinced about the decision she had just made.
Sanghyeok nodded kindly.
"Listen to him and don't bother him too much," his mother said, giving him one last look before heading off to help some customers.
"Bother? Me? Never," Jihoon muttered, offended, pouting a little.
"Have you ever done any of this before?" Sanghyeok asked as he walked toward the coffee machine.
"Does being a customer count?" Jihoon replied, earning a small smile from Sanghyeok.
And that was it. Jihoon felt his heart stop for half a second.
"Something like that," Sanghyeok said, still smiling. Then he added, "You can start by taking this to table three," and handed him a tray with two mint lemonades.
Jihoon stared at it as if he'd just been given a bomb to defuse.
"Table three is...?" he began, turning his head slowly in an attempt not to look lost, though he was absolutely, undeniably lost.
Sanghyeok pointed with a faint smile toward a table near the window, where two girls were chatting animatedly. Jihoon nodded with confidence, trying not to drop anything as he took the tray.
"Great. Table three. Nothing can go wrong." He took one step, then another, and nearly lost his balance on the third, but somehow managed to steady himself.
He made it to the table.
"Here you go... two refreshing spring lemonades, courtesy of... well, no, not courtesy. You paid for them," he said, lowering the glasses slowly.
The girls laughed knowingly.
"You're new, right?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"A little," they replied in unison.
He walked back to the counter with his chest puffed out, as if he had just survived an extreme episode of a cooking reality show.
"Mission accomplished."
"You didn't spill anything. Impressive," Sanghyeok remarked while checking a few order tickets.
"You could say I'm a prodigy of customer service," Jihoon replied, trying to sound casual as he glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Sanghyeok's glasses were slightly crooked, and his hair fell in messy strands over his forehead, as if he had no idea how unbelievably pretty he looked.
"Do you want to try the machine now?" Sanghyeok asked, turning toward it.
Jihoon thought about it for a second.
"Does that involve any risk of explosion?"
"Only if you press the red button."
Jihoon stared at him, horrified.
"There's a red button?"
"No," Sanghyeok said, barely holding back his laughter.
So he had a sense of humor too. Perfect. As if being cute and talented weren't enough.
While Sanghyeok explained how to use the knobs, how to measure the coffee, and the differences between coffees —spoiler: Jihoon still didn't fully get it— there was a moment when their hands brushed.
Jihoon felt a ridiculous warmth shoot up his arms.
"Are you okay?" Sanghyeok asked, looking at him.
"Huh? Yeah. Totally fine. I just... got excited about the steam," Jihoon said, gesturing vaguely at the machine. "It's all very... technical."
Sanghyeok lowered his gaze, clearly amused, and pointed again at what Jihoon was supposed to do. Jihoon forced himself to focus, though Sanghyeok's voice, soft and patient, was absolutely not helping.
Time flew by, and to Jihoon's surprise, it wasn't that hard to adapt. Within a few hours, he could already tell which order went to which table without double-checking, and although he had originally thought it would be unbearably boring, there was something about the routine that he actually found... fun. Well, it also helped that a lot of people —especially girls— were surprised to see him and kept saying things like "I didn't know you worked here!" or "Now I'm going to come more often." Some of them even got nervous when he asked if they needed anything else.
"You got popular fast," Sanghyeok commented as he prepared a smoothie, not looking up much but wearing a small smile that didn't go unnoticed.
"Nah, it's just the girls from the university," Jihoon replied, running a hand through his hair with casual ease. Then he leaned against the counter like it was nothing. "By the way, you're studying too, right?"
"Yeah, psychology," Sanghyeok said, and Jihoon looked at him with slightly widened eyes.
"Makes sense... you definitely have a psychologist face," Jihoon said, half joking, half serious. There was something about him, about the way he looked at people or how calmly he spoke that fit perfectly with that major.
"And you?" Sanghyeok asked, turning a little toward him while blending the mixture.
"Guess," Jihoon said, smiling with one eyebrow raised.
Sanghyeok took a few seconds, looking thoughtfully at some random spot. Jihoon, meanwhile, took the opportunity to stare at him. Even thinking —or especially thinking— Sanghyeok looked absurdly cute.
"Economics?" Sanghyeok guessed at last.
Jihoon shook his head.
"Law."
Sanghyeok looked back at him, this time with an expression somewhere between intrigued and amused, hard to pin down. Jihoon lifted his brows, almost challenging him.
"What? I'm more than just a pretty face. I'm smart too."
"I don't doubt either of those," he said in a calm tone, as if he were stating something completely ordinary. But Jihoon felt those words short-circuit his entire brain.
He watched Sanghyeok walk away with the smoothie in hand toward a table, and remained there, leaning against the counter, with absolutely no idea what to do with that information.
Or with the smile.
Or with the voice.
Or with anything.
Closing time finally arrived. The afternoon had been a whirlwind of orders, laughter, and plates moving back and forth, but Jihoon had barely felt any of it. It was hard to keep track of time when an angel kept hovering around him, speaking in that soft, steady voice that effortlessly stole his breath away. And the smiles, god, the smiles. Or that laugh. That soft, brief laugh that gave him a micro-heart attack every single time.
Sanghyeok flipped the sign from "Open" to "Closed," and the moment he did, Jihoon slumped against the counter as if exhaustion had suddenly decided to body-slam him all at once.
"How was your first day?" Sanghyeok asked from the other side, resting his elbows on the counter as he looked at him.
Jihoon let out a long sigh, one he genuinely needed.
"Good... but I'm dead."
"That's normal," Sanghyeok replied, already working on something at the coffee machine. "It gets easier once you get the hang of it."
"Yeah?" Jihoon raised an eyebrow, curious.
Sanghyeok nodded.
"Are you coming back? Or was this a one-time appearance?"
"Why?" Jihoon shot back, bringing the cup Sanghyeok had just handed him to his lips. "Are you going to miss me?"
"A lot," Sanghyeok said —so effortlessly, so casually— that Jihoon nearly choked on his sip.
Sanghyeok let out a short, quiet laugh. Honestly, it was worth the embarrassment just to hear that sound. Jihoon cleared his throat afterward, trying to play it off.
"Then I'm coming back," he said casually, even though inside he was basically fireworks exploding in every direction.
Sanghyeok looked at him. Not with a smile, not politely. He simply looked at him. And Jihoon, for the first time all day, didn't feel quite so delusional. For a moment, a tiny but painfully important moment, he truly believed Sanghyeok was looking at him the same way he'd been looking at Sanghyeok.
Inevitably, he grew nervous. The warm atmosphere of the café suddenly felt suffocating.
"You can go. I can finish the rest," Jihoon said, straightening up a little faster than he meant to.
Sanghyeok lifted one eyebrow, just barely.
"Do you know how?" he asked, in that soft tone he used for everything, like he wasn't doubting him, but also wasn't trusting him entirely.
Jihoon took his time answering. He looked around the place, trying to seem confident. He saw the coffee machine, the towels, the jars with labels he had absolutely never read in his life. Everything had more buttons than he remembered.
"Doesn't look that hard," he finally said with a shrug, as if he hadn't just told the most obvious lie imaginable.
Sanghyeok didn't call him out on it. He only smiled with that familiar calmness and started closing up the place like it was nothing. And Jihoon, even though he didn't actually help, watched every move carefully, as if he were taking mental notes for his future career as barista-café-employee-for-love.
When they finally finished, they stepped out into the cool night air. The city was still alive, lights flickering on buildings and the distant murmur of traffic humming like background music. Jihoon stretched his arms, relieved.
"Do you live far?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "I can give you a ride if you want."
Sanghyeok shook his head with a short, gentle smile.
"Thanks, but..." He motioned toward the corner with a small gesture.
Jihoon followed his gaze.
There was a car waiting for him.
And next to the car, someone.
Someone who looked comfortable standing there. Someone who waved at him the moment they saw him. Someone who clearly knew him.
Jihoon’s smile faltered, just a little.
That possibility —the one he’d swept under the rug all day— suddenly became real. And ugly. And shaped like a very loud: maybe he’s not single, genius.
"Oh," he said softly, as if the air had been knocked out of him. "Right."
He didn’t ask. He didn’t want to ask. Because if he did, and the answer turned out to be what he feared, then his entire mental romantic comedy would collapse instantly. And he definitely wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
"See you, then," he said, forcing a smile he hoped looked normal.
Sanghyeok looked at him again. That same soft, unreadable expression that clarified nothing and complicated everything.
"See you," he echoed.
With one last calm, effortless movement, he walked toward the car.
Jihoon watched him go. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his heart folded into origami. He could laugh at himself later, preferably at a moment when he wouldn’t feel the urge to dunk his head into a boiling cappuccino.