At the corner of the boulevard, inside a small establishment that goes by the name of Beans & Music, Jongdae gets ready to perform one of his favorite songs.

It’s a bright midday, as the sunlight passes through the windows, warming the atmosphere of the coffee house. It glints and Jongdae likes to imagine the almost invisible dust particles around the local are dancing accordingly with the tempo of “Can’t take my eyes off you by Frankie Valli”. A classic, a song people still like to listen until today, even if they are covers in genres he is not particularly fond of.

His voice, precise and smooth, is not only background music in this type of place, it’s a daily amusement from 11 am until Baekhyun also feels like demanding the old silver microphone for himself.

It’s a good place to start, and you need to start somewhere. Jongdae is particularly happy to have a small scenario above a startfold as a first set up. Besides of that, it comes as a relief the fact he isn’t the only one starting something there. Even if Kyungsoo isn’t chasing a songwriter dream, the passion he feels for cooking is pretty commensurable to his love for smooth music. He can’t leave Baekhyun apart either, whose dream to be a popular singer lays tied to Jongdae’s. The brunette hangs somehow on the idea they will make it together someday.

Perhaps it will take longer than expected, as the three can barely make enough money to keep their apartment rent.

The little bell at the top of the door sounds every now and then when a customer enters. Usually, Jongdae receives them with a small smile as they, most of the times, give him one back before sitting, paying attention to him until Kyungsoo approaches them to take their order.

This time isn’t the exception, the door opens and the small bell rings.

And he enters.

A man with light, fair beige skin and a slim but athletic figure around the same height as Jongdae. His face has outstanding but fine details like his deep black eyes, stylized eyebrows and prominent cheeks. An eccentric lavender hair and light mascara blend nicely with his clothes: a dark purple hoodie ―long enough to cover half of his hands and thighs― tight jet black jeans, military boots and earphones already in place.

His gaze fixates in Jongdae just for a second before approaching a table right in the middle of his vision.

He is attractive, Jongdae knows. Acknowledging the slight impact of his presence by fixing the collar of his shirt or constantly glancing towards him seems to have no effect, as the man never raises his eyes, except to signal Kyungsoo what exactly he wants from the menu.

With just one adjust of his earphones, he proceeds to take a small notebook, a book and then starts to write. Perhaps he is majoring in something, Jongdae thinks he shouldn’t be older than him.

Youth is written in every part of baby fat in his face and somehow in his actions too. He is fast to write, to read, to crack his neck and keep his focus. Every movement is ridiculously simple but also incredibly fair. Perhaps is the fact that he doesn’t acknowledge Jongdae’s presence nor voice, but the singer can’t dismiss his presence that easy. Just when Kyungsoo arrives with his food ―simple pancakes, mocha bread and perhaps an expresso― his expression changes.

He smiles, with a small gentle grin, his eyes glinting.

And Jongdae doesn’t believe in love at first sight, and he will never do. Even if some of his favorite songs talk about it, the sole idea is wacky. Yet, there he is, expecting the lovely customer to show up every tuesday at the same establishment, same hour, same table, same type of lunch. Never, not even once, raising his eyes from his small notebook or taking off his earphones.

As he sings the best of Nat King Cole, Jongdae wonders a pretty fair amount of things he would be ashamed to confess. What does he do? Is he single? What could Jongdae do for him to listen at least once? What kind of music is he listening to anyway? Is it even music? For the way he taps his foot with the floor and plays with the coffee spoons from time to time, it is definitely music. Which genre could it be? Would he be like Jongdae? With a soft spot for Jazz, Classical and a small spot of alternative?

Jongdae juggles his life between job, self-teaching, writing, composing, a soft spot for his friends and another small, petite, spot for that man in the coffee house. It’s one of the days, with the sky a bit foggy and rain about to pour, when he is late for work due to a job interview for a recording studio. Perhaps he can arrive by half day, not that Junmyeon, the owner, would care since he is pretty comprehensive when it comes to his dream opportunities.

He is crossing the boulevard when his eyes linger in him.

He has combed his hair to look elegantly coiffed and parted on the right. Instead of a hoodie, he carries a black jacket that matches with his plain white t-shirt, black tight jeans and his classic military boots. Not to mention the work he has done in his eyes with a pretty soft but dark shadow at their corners.

He is humming, a song Jongdae would recognize anywhere. Perhaps this kind of weather is his kind of weather, as he is almost dancing while walking.

Jongdae doesn’t hesitate in hurrying his pace to be at his side. He doesn’t doubt because he believes in first and only chances as he has been taking them all his life.

“Hey.”

The man turns at him raising an eyebrow. Some kind of acknowledgment crosses his face as he proceeds to take his headphones off, placing them on his neck. He has cute ears, with simple piercings at both earlobes and a helix at his right one ―Jongdae would lie if he told those weren’t attractive.

This close, with the faint melody still coming from the earphones, Jongdae realizes it’s not exactly the song he was expecting, but a cover in another genre he isn’t familiarized with. Perhaps is rock, he believes he heard Kyungsoo listening to that particular cover once.

“Hey.” Yet, the slight disappointment in him disappears when the man is already smiling kindly at him. “You are the guy that sings in the coffee house, right?”

“Have you heard me?” Jongdae asks amused since there is not a day the man shows up without his headphones on.

The embarrassment of the man is almost palpable through the air and pretty visible with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Not really,” he finally blurts with a soft snort.

Jongdae would share the embarrassment feeling, but he is too busy smiling at the sight.

That day Jongdae picks “Your eyes by Winterplay” and sings as if the sky outside wasn’t that grey. He likes to think Minseok’s smile, at his usual table and through his whole stay in the coffee house, is because of the music he is finally listening to.

Every day from there, Jongdae picks the songs he feels Minseok should hear at least once ―each one a personal favorite― and even repeats the ones he sang when the other wasn’t listening. He wonders if after all, Minseok would accept his love for Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, Yoon Sun and even more when it’s particularly obvious his music taste differs by a lot.

Yet, the way he visibly relaxes after three weeks of straight Jazz do make a difference.

For his part, Minseok doesn’t really know about music background, more like he doesn’t care. Unlike Jongdae, he doesn’t know where the genres come from nor their journey through history, yet he gets notably attached to the lyrics. He can’t recall artist names, older works and sometimes he goes around without recognizing his favorite voices in different genres, but that doesn’t stop him from enjoying the music. Perhaps, he is the type of person that would cry listening to a pop song due to the words or because it evokes memories.

Jongdae finds he isn’t bothered about that at all. He is also guilty for not understanding Minseok’s own passion: linguistics. Books, history, tales, literature in general are no field for Jongdae. But Minseok doesn’t mind about that either.

After one month, Jongdae decides his new hobby will be sitting across him at his casual breaks. Baekhyun is more than willing to take his place and fill the local with the pop music Minseok seems to love. Minseok is chatty when you find the proper topic but he is also a pretty good listener, his conversations are usually pretty simple and easy to keep on and sometimes he cracks a really bad joke. But Jongdae laughs because the sight of Minseok laughing is intoxicating by itself. It’s vibrant and contagious to the point Jongdae believes that doing the most tedious tasks, like organizing taxes, would be exciting with him at his side.

He sits, talks and moves being charming, lovable, cute, handsome and attractive in just one sole hour it's almost absurd. Jongdae never knew someone that could master that as perfectly as Minseok. Perhaps that’s what pop songs are made of ―attraction for someone to the point it becomes ridiculous.

There is no way Jongdae has been living for the same way with the same feeling itching in his chest for almost four months.

“I have to go,” Minseok always says goodbye the same way, but this time Jongdae can’t retain the whine escaping from his mouth. He would be embarrassed if Minseok wasn’t smiling so fondly at that. “I will come back tomorrow,” he says like it wasn’t obvious, as if Jongdae didn’t wait for him every day without Minseok knowing about it.

Jongdae’s feelings are crystal clear, even if he hasn't been straightforward about them.

Minseok also notices that and he does the most wonderful thing in the world: he leans and gives Jongdae a fast peck, with a small bop sound.

He is already outside the coffee house when Jongdae falls out of the reverie. He stands up, hurrying to the backstore where he finds Baekhyun and Kyungsoo glued to each other. Ignoring the fact both look ashamed with deep blush on their cheeks, he hugs them tight.

Then, it becomes routine for Jongdae. To share a meal with Minseok through the week and going out with him at weekends ―sometimes staying in Minseok’s apartment when the former has deadlines for projects and where, somehow, Jongdae’s writing flow easily.

Minseok likes to give him small but sweet doses of sudden affection, like hugs or pecks in both cheeks and lips, running fingers on his eyebrows when Jongdae is singing a self-composed song.

With him, every thing ― small or huge ― is harmonious but lively at the same time, just as he predicted. Even listening to soft pop music at night while trying to cook.

And Jongdae never thought of loving someone so fast, and perhaps he will never admit to do so. Yet, there he is, expecting to be loved back.

I hope the end didn't look that rushed. Btw, I mentioned the song 'Your eyes' from the album Touché Mon Amour' by Winterplay. I recommend to give the whole album a listen, it's pop-jazz & it helped me to edit this fic - joss