The only other thing Jongin can feel through his drowsiness is the intense heat from the summer sun. It can’t be much later than 7:00, and he’s already covered in sweat. The only place Jongin wants to be right now is in bed, fast asleep with the electric fan on full blast, directed straight at his face. He absolutely does not want to be in front of the back door of Coffee Affair, the only cafe desperate enough to hire a high schooler with no work experience over the break. Technically two high schoolers, Jongin thinks, as he remembers the reason why he’s coming in a whole half-hour earlier than he normally would to open. Sehun rushed the end of his closing shift the night before so he could go watch his stupid crush at some stupid gig, leaving all of the cleaning to his so-called “best friend”.

Jongin fiddles with the inside of his backpack until he hears the jangle of keys and feels the cool metal on his fingers. Excited to at least be surrounded by aircon soon, he pulls them out and slides one of them into the keyhole. Twisting the key until the lock clicks, Jongin pushes on the door only to have it not budge. Don’t tell me.... Jongin’s skin goes cold with dread as he tries the key again and, sure enough, this time the door opens. That idiot hadn’t even remembered to lock up the cafe before he ran out. As Jongin slips inside, he prays to any god that nothing got stolen, because something tells him that Sehun won’t have the money to replace expensive barista equipment. Before checking, though, Jongin runs straight to the aircon and turns it on. Priorities.

A quick glance around shows that nothing is missing, and the cafe’s safe is still filled with money for the registers. Relief and cool air wash over Jongin as he grabs the broom to start cleaning. The floor is a mess, covered in crumbs and the occasional used napkin, but he figures he can get away with not using the mop today. Still, it’s going to take quite a while to get everything clean enough so that Minseok, Jongin’s boss, doesn’t tell him off.

The kitchen, as always, is the grossest. It takes Jongin a full five minutes to scrub a bit of dried cheese off the tiles with a paper towel. By the time he gets to the main floor of the cafe, he’s lost almost all his patience. At least he’s not sweltering in the heat anymore, but he’s frustrated from all the cleaning and is still half-asleep.

As he lazily sweeps across the wood, Jongin lets himself close his eyes and pretend that he’s dozing off in bed. Eventually, he’s almost leaning onto the broom, letting it glide underneath him smoothly, nudging the tables and chairs out of it’s path. Until it thuds into something that doesn’t move.

Confused, Jongin opens his eyes to look down at the offending object that’s broken his sweeping-slumber. Of all the things he expects to see, a large black boot covered in buckles isn’t one of them. What he expects even less is to see that it’s connected to a leg, clad in extremely ripped jeans that are basically more holes than fabric, and that the leg is poking out from underneath the tablecloth of Table 4.

This is bad… he thinks as he’s frozen in place. His first thought is that a customer from yesterday got stuck in the cafe - or thought they were stuck and didn’t realise the door was actually unlocked - and was forced to stay the night. But after a closer look at the intimidating clothes, Jongin fears the worst. With a look like this, Jongin thinks, this person is definitely a criminal.

Jongin decides the first thing he’ll do is look under the table - he tells himself it’s for a witness report or something for the police, but he really knows he’s just curious. He bends down and tentatively lifts up the cloth, waiting to discover the leader of a mafia gang. For some reason, he expects a face creased from years of living wild, maybe with a thick heavy beard, but what he gets is the complete opposite.

As his gaze lands on the closed, sleeping eyes, round cheeks, and full, heart-shaped lips, Jongin’s very first reaction is cute. His innocent features would make him look like a small child if it weren’t for his strong brows. But as Jongin looks at the boy more, the word “innocent” instantly drops from his mind.

Jongin has only seen a look like this in magazines, ones about the dark and underground fashion of harajuku, filled with spikes and chains. He’s not sure which is more terrifying, the shaved bottom half of the boy’s hair or the 80-or-so pieces of metal that he’s willingly put in his ears (one of which is a long, painful-looking pole, a type of piercing that Jongin never even knew existed). Jongin is also convinced that he’s some kind of magical demon, because he’s wearing a thick leather jacket and hasn’t died from hyperthermia in this heat. Even though he’s fast asleep, lying on his side under the table like a misplaced child, this guy is terrifying. Kind of good-looking, but still terrifying.

Standing back up straight, Jongin tries to wrap his head around the surreal situation. During his first training shift, three weeks ago, Minseok had neglected to mention what one should do if you’re opening and a scary punk is sleeping in the middle of the cafe. Common sense tells him that waking the intruder up would be a good start, but Jongin doesn’t feel like being murdered today. He could call the police - breaking and entering is still a crime if the building’s door is unlocked, right? - but getting the authorities involved means getting his manager involved, and it also most definitely means him and Sehun losing their jobs. Jongin really just wants the problem to clear up on it’s own, but he can’t let himself believe that if he turns away and comes back later, the snoozing devil spawn will have disappeared.

But Jongin’s awkwardness takes over, and before he can convince himself to do something helpful, he’s picking up the broom and continues to sweep. He’s sure that by the time he finishes with the crumbs and dust on the floor, he’ll think of a brilliant plan to get rid of the criminal without being fired or beaten to death.

But of course, he doesn’t. Jongin moves onto the dirty dishes Sehun left in the kitchen sink last night, placing each bowl and plate onto the drying rack as quietly and carefully as possible. His anxiety starts building once he’s counting the money for the registers. It’s about ten minutes until opening time, and the dark creature under the table hasn’t budged. Minseok doesn’t come into work until about 9:30, thank god, but that still leaves an hour and a half for Jongin to deal with confused customers, asking about the strange scary man who’s taken up camp in middle of the cafe.

His heart racing and his mind frantic, Jongin is caught up in an elaborate lie he’ll be telling Mr. Lee - the cafe’s early bird regular- in a few minutes when he feels a familiar burning in his nose. Before he has time to stop himself, or even realise the dangers of what his body is about to put him in, he sneezes. Loudly.

The silence after is deafening, and Jongin is frozen, staring straight at the intruder’s leg and praying for it to stay still. He holds his breath, and just when he thinks he got away with it, the leg shifts and he hears a low moan from under the table. Jongin’s heart sinks, and he wishes that he could have said goodbye to his dogs that morning before his untimely murder.

The groaning continues, and Jongin slowly creeps around the counter towards his inevitable doom before he hears the intruder speak, in a voice deep and raspy from the last of sleep. “Coffee.”

“C-coffee?”

The body under the table shifts some more, and the intruder’s head emerges from under the cloth. He opens his eyes with a tired struggle, and Jongin is almost surprised that they’re not red like the Devil’s. He looks up at Jongin and squints. “Coffee.”

Assuming that his life is probably on the line, Jongin rushes behind the counter to the coffee machine. He fumbles with the beans, and when he grabs a cup and saucer, he sees his hands shaking. Jongin really doesn’t want to talk to the intruder, but the image of having an unsatisfactory coffee thrown at him and scalding his face motivates him to ask what type of coffee he actually wants.

“H-how many shots?”

“Double.”

“Okay, um, black or white?” Jongin forces himself to check on his potential murderer and sees that he’s now sitting with his elbows on the table, staring straight at him.

“Black.”

Of course, Jongin thinks, setting the cup under the drizzle. It probably matches the color of his soul.

“Sugar?” He may as well not bother asking, and sure enough the intruder shakes his head. Trying to keep his hands steady so the porcelain doesn’t rattle, he takes the coffee to the table, feeling as if he’s walking towards a guillotine. When the intruder takes a sip and doesn’t spit it right back in his face, Jongin takes it as a sign that maybe he’ll be allowed to live.

He’s not really sure if he’s meant to stand there and watch the intruder drink his coffee, but Jongin still likes the idea of having a few pieces of furniture in between them for protection. He tries to act busy by running behind the counter, and fiddles around with some messy napkins to look less awkward. He’s not one hundred percent sure that his life is safe yet, but at least the guy isn’t sleeping under the table and causing suspicion in the cafe. Jongin breathes a sigh of relief. Once he leaves, Jongin can forget this strange event ever happened, at least until he tells Sehun all about it.

“Jongin?” He hears the intruder’s voice and freezes on the spot, knowing very well that he is way too awkward to have introduced himself to someone who looks like they worship Satan in their spare time. He peers over the coffee machine as he begins to reassess his lack of belief in supernatural demons.

“H-how do you know my name?” Jongin asks, hoping that there’s a logical answer to his question, because if this guy can actually read minds then he’s probably heard all the fearful and not-too-nice thoughts Jongin has had about him.

The intruder looks confused, his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Oh. Just to confirm, Jongin looks down at his white uniform shirt, a pin reading “KIM JONGIN” attached on the front pocket. He feels pretty stupid. “Ah, right.” Jongin keeps his head down and goes back to making all the cups and saucers face the same way.

“What I wanted to say was, I don’t have my wallet on me.” Jongin hears the chair drag against the floor and sees the intruder stand up. He takes an automatic step back when he walks behind the counter, into the staff-only-no-customers-especially-not-terrifying-customers zone. It’s only now that Jongin realises this guy is a good head shorter than him, and he’s amazed that he’s still so intimidating when he couldn’t be taller than five foot something.

Having him this close is very distracting, and it takes Jongin a lot longer than it should to process what he said.

“O-oh? Um, that’s okay. It’s on the house,” he replies. In reality, it doesn’t matter if he gives out a free drink here and there. He probably contributes to a bigger loss in profit with the four-or-so chai lattes he makes himself per shift.

“I’ll pay you back.” The intruder’s expression is serious and his tone is final, and Jongin has no desire to argue with him on the matter.

He stares Jongin down for another second, and to his surprise and relief, the intruder turns and heads towards the main entrance. As Jongin hears the cafe doors open and then close, he finally notices how fast his heart is beating, and is somewhat thankful that at least now he’s wide awake.

☀

“And then he just left?”

“Yep, just like that.”

It’s been a few days since the cafe intruder incident, but Jongin knew he wouldn’t be able to tell Sehun about it clearly over text. Their shifts have finally matched up over Minseok’s hour break, making it the perfect time to catch him up.

“That’s really weird,” Sehun deadpans.

“I know, right?”

They’re both leaning on the counter, one of them wiping it down with a cloth every few minutes to make it look as though they’re actually doing work. There haven’t been any orders for the last half hour since the lunch rush is over, and there’s only a couple of customers left, either engrossed in conversations or in their laptops.

“But why was he asleep in the middle of the cafe in the first place?”

Jongin rolls his eyes. “I have no idea, I wasn’t exactly going to ask. For all I know he could have been running from the cops or something.”

“As if.”

“Seriously, you should have seen this guy! If I disappear any time soon, know it’s because I was either murdered or enlisted in the witness protection program.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Sehun scoffs, and Jongin thinks he’d really appreciate a more supportive friend.

“You could at least pretend to care about me, or anything else other than your stupid drummer.”

Clearly offended, Sehun gasps and whacks Jongin with the cleaning cloth. “I’ll have you know that Chanyeol is a drummer and a bassist, and a guitarist, and he sings like an angel.” Jongin just groans, already having heard this spiel a thousand times before.

For the past few months, Sehun has been following Chanyeol and the rest of his band to all their gigs like an obsessed saesang. He first saw Siren perform when Baekhyun and the other cool junior kids took a gamble on him at the start of the school year, (why they chose him, Jongin will never understand) by sneaking him into a seedy bar and getting him wasted. The only information Jongin has about that night is an overly-detailed description of “the iest man to ever walk this earth” and that Baekhyun hasn’t associated with Sehun ever since. Judging by how thirsty Sehun is when he’s sober, Jongin can only imagine the things he said to Baekhyun and his buddies when he was off his face.

“How was your stupid gig on Thursday?” Jongin asks bitterly, and Sehun’s face lights up from the extended opportunity to talk about his Romeo.

“A-ma-zing.” Sehun sighs. “Every time I see him, I fall more and more in love with him.”

“And yet he still doesn’t know you exist.” Jongin says while smirking.

“True love is selfless, Jongin, you wouldn’t understand.”

“And you say I’m dramatic.”

They continue bickering until Sehun sees Minseok walking back up to the cafe from the window, motivating the pair to split off and pretend to do their jobs. Jongin’s closing that afternoon, and he glares at his best friend in jealously as he waltzes out at 3:00pm.

After another wave of customers, Minseok leaves him in charge of the cafe for the last hour, which in Jongin’s mind means scrolling on his phone and waiting for everyone to leave. He starts packing up ten minutes early, of course, hoping that it’ll deter the few passersby who keep peering in the window for a last minute coffee. A lazy evening lying on the couch is just over the horizon, and Jongin rushes the close to reach it faster, skipping over small jobs that the manager calls “making the cafe 100%!” and Jongin calls “unnecessary wastes of time”. Besides, Sehun’s opening tomorrow morning and he’d just love to leave him that big pile of dishes as a ‘thank you’ gift for the other day.

The last thing Jongin does is turn off the aircon, his heart sinking at the thought of walking out into the crazy heat. It doesn’t matter that it’s 6:30 in the evening, the sun doesn’t discriminate against the later hours. As the cooling shuts down, Jongin hears a loud rumble, making him fear for the worst. If the aircon breaks, they’ll have to call Joonmyeon to get it repaired. From what Jongin has heard of the cafe’s owner, he owns a bunch of other restaurants and shops which he’s constantly busy with, and hasn’t followed up on any of Minseok’s request before the three-month mark. The aircon is about the only reason Jongin shows up to work - other than the money, he guesses - and if the cafe loses its cool air, it’ll also lose its fourth-best employee. And probably their fifth-best, too, since the only person who complains about summer more than Jongin is Sehun.

He braces himself for the heat and pushes the back door open, only then realising that he should have braced himself for much more. The loud rumbling wasn’t the sound of the aircon’s untimely death - it must have been the sound of a large metallic monster Jongin can barely bring himself to call a motorbike. And to his terror, the intruder is leaning against it, staring straight at him.

Maybe it’s because it’s much closer to night time, but somehow he looks even scarier today. His face is unreadable, so Jongin takes the liberty of deciding the intruder’s emotion: murderous. The coffee from the other day gave him food poisoning, and now that he’s recovered, he’s back to avenge his stomach. There are no other options, that’s why he’s here, and Jongin’s already beginning his dreadful fantasy of running from a killer for the next four years of his life - he’ll have to leave his beloved dogs behind, Sehun will miss him dearly, Siren will even write a song about his sad story - when the intruder actually speaks, softer than Jongin expects.

“‘Sup?” He tilts his head back in that way all delinquents do, and Jongin thinks that “Not much, how are you?” are really sad last words to have.

Although they’re not as sad as the words he actually blurts out. “I’m really sorry about the coffee please don’t kill me!”

So much for dying with a hero’s legacy. Hopefully Sehun will never find out how weak he was in his last moments, he’d never let it go.

The intruder looks surprised for a second before smirking. He takes a few steps towards Jongin and reaches out a hand, making Jongin duck his head and squint his eyes instinctively. There’s no painful impact even a few seconds later, though, and Jongin takes a tentative peek in front of him to see a 5,000 won note. What does this mean? Maybe he’s offering to buy Jongin a final drink before his death. How kind of him.

“I owe you,” he says and Jongin finally remembers the coffee and the intruder’s promise to pay him back. He’s kind of touched that he went to the effort of coming back just for this, but he actually only owes Jongin 3,400. Not to mention that the register’s closed now, so no money can go in or out of it until tomorrow without it showing up on a report that Jongin would have to explain to Minseok later. So he’s not sure how to give the intruder any change, or even what he should do with the note.

But he’s far too awkward and terrified to explain any of this properly, and before he knows it he’s muttering a small “thanks,” and puts out his hand. Their fingers brush as the intruder passes him the note, and Jongin is surprised that for a creature that’s probably cold blooded, his skin is so warm.

Maybe he’s carrying the flames of hell within him, Jongin thinks to himself before he hears him say something he doesn’t quite catch. It sounded a bit like “When are you working next?” but that wouldn’t make any sense.

“What was that?” Jongin asks him to clarify, and the intruder repeats himself.

“I said, when are you working next?”

Why? Jongin cries silently. What more does he want from me? He feels stupid for believing that this man was really going to let him live. At least he gets to work one more shift before his murder. Lovely.

Jongin seriously considers lying. Even if this guy doesn’t come to kill him, he doesn’t want him knowing his schedule, or really anything about him. But something tells Jongin that honesty is the safer way to go, and that the intruder could possibly be trained in lie detection, anyway.

“Tomorrow afternoon.” Jongin’s voice breaks slightly and he wishes that he at least sounded brave.

The intruder doesn’t respond, and instead turns around to get back onto his black and silver steed. Jongin breathes a quiet sigh of relief. He’s shuffling on his feet awkwardly - should he walk off or wait until he rides away? - when the intruder gives him one last look.

“I’m Kyungsoo, by the way,” he says, and Jongin’s slightly startled at the forwardness of the statement. The motorbike roars to life as Kyungsoo hides his face inside his helmet, and after backing out of the parking lot, is gone without a trace. Despite himself, Jongin quietly laughs. It’s not “Black Serpent” or “Lucifer”, it’s just Kyungsoo. It’s a nice, simple name, and Jongin doesn’t know why, but it suits him a lot.

☀

The lunch time rush the next day is a nightmare. Tuesdays aren’t normally busy, so no other employees are rostered on and it’s just Jongin and Minseok, fighting against 50-or-so frustrated business workers who are desperate for their caffeine hit. Jongin’s coffees almost always come back to the counter with complaints - he has no taste for hot-bitter-soil-in-a-liquid-form, how the hell is he supposed to make it taste good? - so his manager is the one in charge of drinks when the customers seem to be the unforgiving type. This leaves Jongin at the register, fumbling with coins and scrawling on cups in handwriting so messy even he can’t read it. Each name goes in one ear and out the other, only registering in his mind long enough to get it written down before it vanishes and he moves onto the next. But when someone called Kwangsoo orders an americano, Jongin’s heart stops for a moment, and he’s reminded of yesterday’s visitor.

As he puts the sharpie to cardboard, Jongin finds himself almost writing the wrong name, having to cross out the “Kyung” and rewrite it properly underneath. Jongin was on a roll before, but with the sudden memories of Kyungsoo, he’s distracted, asking customers to repeat themselves and making mistakes all over the place. Thinking about him makes him anxious, but now he can’t stop, his mind replaying every moment and him trying to decide what each action meant. Is his life really in danger? Is that even what he’s nervous about?

Because despite the fear that swirls in his stomach whenever Kyungsoo crosses his mind, Jongin can’t help but find him interesting. He has a strange feeling that underneath his leathery, spike-covered exterior, there might be a lonely and soft-hearted soul searching for a companion. Maybe he should look forward to the idea of seeing him again. After all, Jongin admits to himself, He is kinda hot. And cute.

But Jongin doesn’t let himself entertain that thought any longer. Lions are cute, too, he reasons. And tigers. And polar bears. Doesn’t mean they’re not lethal.

He spends the last few hours of his shift trying to push Kyungsoo out of his head. Pretending to be a hard-working and motivated individual - words directly from his resume - makes a good enough distraction until Minseok finally leaves, after which Jongin resorts to scrolling through Instagram. He gets into liking photos of food and dogs for so long that before he knows it, the clock in the corner of his phone reads 6:21pm. Jongin looks up at the rest of the cafe to see it completely empty, and he grins to himself as he starts to clean the coffee machine.

If Minseok were here, he’d scold him for this, saying that customers have every right to buy coffee until the second they’re closed, but Jongin’s never had someone come in during the last ten minutes. And if he ever did, he could politely explain that he’s “just packed everything up,” and that he “could make another coffee, it would just mean having to clean the machine again.” And the customer would understand and “wouldn’t want to give him any extra trouble.” And then they’d leave.

That’s what Jongin’s thinking as he hears the cafe’s door open, and he’s about to prepare his most guilt-inducing face - he does this by imitating Jjang Gu after he’s broken something - but when he looks up, he’s not sure if his heart sinks or gets caught in his throat.

It’s Kyungsoo, in that classic leather jacket that Jongin assumes he’s worn for 666 days in a row, and ripped jeans that he guesses are a slightly different shade of death than yesterday. Jongin decides that his arrival is proof that Kyungsoo, is in fact, the Devil himself, because he’s spent the better part of the day thinking about him, and now he’s clearly been summoned. Apparently a pentagram isn’t necessary.

But then he remembers Kyungsoo asking when he was working, and his sudden appearance begins to make a bit more sense. Honestly, he can’t tell whether he should feel flattered or fearful that Kyungsoo took the time to actually show up.

Kyungsoo’s staring at him dead in the eye as he walks up to the counter, then he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out - a knife? A gun? - a wallet, and despite himself Jongin almost groans. The last thing he wants to do is set up the coffee machine again, he thinks to himself, before he realises that really the last thing he wants to do is confront South Korea’s youngest gang leader. He resigns himself to the idea of closing the cafe fifteen minutes later than usual, knowing that he ought to stay on Kyungsoo’s good side while he still can.

Still, Jongin’s throat dries up and he can’t pull the words “What can I get for you?” out of his mouth, so he just waits awkwardly for Kyungsoo to stop counting his notes and coins. His palms are sweaty, his face is heating up and the beat of his heart is getting a little fast, and Jongin wonders if he can even feel the difference between fear and nerves.

“I want another coffee, same as last time,” Kyungsoo states. A dark creature of habit, Jongin muses to himself as he starts up the machine again. He clears his throat, knowing that he - unfortunately - can’t be silent for the entire exchange.

“Have here or to go?” Jongin asks with his head down, pretending to be very concentrated on the coffee maker’s settings. Almost any customer in this situation would order the coffee take away, but all of Jongin’s encounters with Kyungsoo have been drawn out and difficult, and he has a funny feeling this one won’t be any different.

“I’ll have it here.” Of course. It wouldn’t be fun for Kyungsoo unless he gets to watch him squirm for as long as possible in the uncomfortable atmosphere. Jongin curses all the television producers who aren’t making enough dramas aimed at entertaining delinquents and mafia members.

Kyungsoo takes a seat at the table closest to the counter, and Jongin tries to ignore the feeling of his dark eyes boring into his head. His slippery hands cause him to make a few mistakes, and it feels like an eternity until he’s placing the cup and saucer in front of him, almost spilling it when he looks up and their gazes meet for a second.

“You can start closing the cafe while I drink,” Kyungsoo says before Jongin can get away. “I don’t mind.”

Minseok would probably fire Jongin on the spot if he saw him closing up with a customer still inside, especially when they already look like a criminal. But Jongin wants to get home quickly, and this is the most charitable a spawn of Satan has ever been to a human, so Jongin just nods and slips behind the counter. He knows Kyungsoo’s staring at him again, but he pretends not to notice as he wipes everything down for the second - and hopefully final - time. He’s about to start counting the money in the register when he hears a chair scraping along the floor, and when he looks up, Kyungsoo’s right in front him.

Jongin’s already run through three worst-case scenarios before Kyungsoo pulls out his wallet again, and it finally occurs to him that he didn’t give him a chance to pay when he ordered. Phew, Jongin thinks to himself. He starts to wonder if maybe he shouldn’t always assume the worst of this guy as he tells him the price of the coffee - “That’ll be 3,400 won,” in his best fed-up-with-working-in-hospitality voice - and then he remembers something that makes his heart stop. Yesterday, he let Kyungsoo pay 5,000 won for the same drink, and now he’s going to know that Jongin technically robbed him of 1,600 won. The worst part is that he didn’t even put the money in the til, he used it to buy himself a convenience store ice cream, but Kyungsoo really doesn’t need to know that.

Jongin can’t read Kyungsoo’s face as he stops looking at him to search through the few notes in his wallet, eventually pulling out 5,000 won like last time. He takes the money, racking his mind for some kind of solution as he adds it to the register. His shaky hands hover over the til for a few moments before he decides to give Kyungsoo the change for both days - it means the cafe will technically lose 1,600 won, but he can pay the difference out of his own pocket before Minseok notices. Holding his breath, Jongin looks up at him tentatively as he passes over 3,200 won, hoping that the Devil will forgive him for stealing off him out of pure awkwardness.

The moment the money is in Kyungsoo’s hand, he drops it into their glass tip jar without hesitation. That’s a good sign, right? Jongin speculates as their eyes meet, and when Kyungsoo gives him a small smirk, lips curving cockily, he knows that his lucky streak with this guy hasn’t ended just yet.

At least that’s what he’s thinking as Kyungsoo turns around, and just when Jongin’s ready to watch him walk out the door, he sits back down at his table. Jongin’s shoulders slump slightly. He’s finished his drink and he’s payed, what else does he need to do here? Knowing that there’s nothing he can do about Satan’s prolonged stay, Jongin grabs the broom and ignores him for cleaning. It’s just like the first time they met, and he can’t help but chuckle to himself slightly. How nostalgic.

Jongin sweeps for about a minute in - slightly weary - quiet bliss before Kyungsoo’s deep voice cuts the silence. “How old are you?” He’s looking up at Jongin over his shoulder, leaning back in the flimsy cafe chair, his excessively-ring-decorated hand holding a phone in mid-scroll.

“I’m, uh, 18,” Jongin replies, and for a second he wonders if he’s curious enough to ask Kyungsoo back. He glances again at the dark figure to accidentally meet his furrowed glare. No, he’s not.

He doesn’t get any time to settle back into sweeping quietly before he hears another question. “What grade are you in?”

Really? Are we playing 20 Questions now?

“I’m in my last year.”

There’s another silence, and Jongin uses the time to sweep around Kyungsoo’s table, the only part of the cafe floor that he has to clean before he does the kitchen. He awkwardly maneuvers the broom around Kyungsoo’s large boots, too embarrassed to simply ask him to move his legs.

“What music do you like?” Kyungsoo grabs the perfect moment to stump Jongin while he’s standing next to his table. He was in the middle of gathering all the floor’s dust together, and now he’s frozen with his broom hanging in the air. Unless he’s designing a pleasant soundtrack to murder him to, Jongin has no idea why a punk would be interested in his music tastes.

It’s a question Jongin would have trouble answering in the best of times, let alone out of nowhere, under such an ominous stare from Kyungsoo’s almost-black eyes.

“Uh… it depends,” is the best reply Jongin can muster, before he makes a quick escape via the trash bin to finally finish off the sweeping.

As he cleans the benches in the kitchen, Jongin keeps an ear out for the sound of the cafe doors in case Kyungsoo leaves, but honestly, he’d be surprised not to find him there. He wonders how in the world he attracted the curiosity of such a strange being, or how long this interest Kyungsoo has in him will last. It’s like in the movies when a stray dog finds someone they like and follows them around everywhere, Jongin thinks. Only this time, it’s a demon.

Jongin wishes he could skip to the part of the movie where the demon finds it’s real home and leaves him alone, but by this point, he knows this isn’t the last time he’ll be seeing Kyungsoo.

And sure enough, when Jongin walks over to the sacred aircon to turn it off, his new terrifying pet is waiting patiently. Finally understanding that the cafe is closed and that it’s time to leave, Kyungsoo stands up and walks towards the back door - not the front door, for customers, but the back door - and looks over his shoulder at Jongin, who has no choice but to follow him out.

Once they’re both outside, Jongin locks up, giving the knob an extra turn to make sure he did it right - the cafe doesn’t need any more delinquents sneaking in - and when he turns around, Kyungsoo is lighting up a cigarette. Jongin wishes he was more popular with the cool kids at school, because he has no idea whether he’s meant to leave Kyungsoo to his business or keep him company.

Judging by the fact that he isn’t shooting daggers at him with his eyes, Jongin decides to awkwardly wait around. After all, Kyungsoo might want to ask about his favorite movies, and he wouldn’t want to disappoint.

But the smoking passes in silence, and despite the fact that it took way longer than Jongin expected, eventually Kyungsoo is flicking the to the ground and squashing the embers with his boot. It’s only now that he notices the terrible smell - even worse than the scent of coffee - but by the strange angle that he’s standing at, he can tell Kyungsoo made an effort to keep the smoke away from him. Jongin hopes that holding in his coughing fit is enough of a thanks.

“Need a lift home?” Kyungsoo looks up at Jongin expectantly as he walks towards his metallic steed.

On that thing? The words almost slip out of Jongin’s mouth before he can stop himself. All he can do is stare in fear at the idea of flying through his quiet suburban streets on that monster, with no seat belts, no airbags, and Kyungsoo’s leather-and-spikes clad body being the safest thing to hold onto.

His look of white terror is apparently enough of an answer. Kyungsoo responds with a deep chuckle, filled with just enough warmth it reminds Jongin he is indeed human, before he walks over to the motorbike and pulls out a helmet from the back.

“When are you working next?” Kyungsoo asks, and Jongin isn’t even surprised by now.

“I finish at 2 tomorrow,” he replies, knowing exactly what he’s getting himself into, and Kyungsoo just nods in response as he sits on the bike.

Jongin watches Kyungsoo ride off, and as he does, he remembers that in all those stray dog stories, the humans might start out annoyed, but they always grow attached to their new companion.

☀

“Jongin, we’ve run out of chai syrup, again.”

Minseok has an eyebrow raised at him, holding up the empty glass bottle to Jongin’s face. He can only give a sheepish look in reply, knowing he’s out of excuses from the last two times this has happened, and if he saw himself in the mirror, he knows he’d look exactly like Mong Gu after he’s peed inside the house.

His manager sighs at him. “I should really be taking this out of your paycheck by now…”

Luckily, another customer walks up to the counter, and Minseok never gets to finish his threat. Phew, Jongin thinks, feeling certain that he’s still Minseok’s fourth favourite employee. He looks up at the clock and sees it’s already 1:47, and soon he’ll be escaping to his comfortable bed and his old-but-beloved electric fan.

During most shifts, his freedom is the only thing Jongin looks forward to, but today he’s been staring at the cafe door for an entirely different reason. He didn’t really expect Kyungsoo to show up earlier - judging by their first encounter, Kyungsoo’s not much of a morning person - but if he’s going to make an appearance, he’s barely got ten minutes.

At this point, Jongin isn’t even sure if he’s dreading a visit from Kyungsoo, or looking forward to it. All he knows is that his new terrifying biker friend is the most interesting thing to have happened to him this summer.

As Jongin prepares someone’s hot chocolate, he sneaks another look at the clock that reads 1:54. He’s about to give up on Kyungsoo ever visiting, before glancing over at his manager, who’s taking the order of the devil himself. Minseok is giving him his famous customer-service-is-everything smile as he writes on a take-away cup, and Jongin’s not sure what bothers him more, the fact that Minseok doesn’t seem in the least bit scared of Kyungsoo’s dark image, which is at least fifty shades blacker than anyone else here, or the fact that his manager has stolen the customer that has come to meet him.

Not that it’s very clear that Kyungsoo’s here for him. They haven’t even greeted each other, and now Jongin’s feeling self conscious, not sure if he should have pushed Minseok off to the side - “Don’t worry, Boss. I’ve got this one.” or even if he should have given him a wave. But then Kyungsoo looks over at him and they lock eyes, and by the way his heart leaps, Jongin knows he’s nowhere near cool enough around this guy to be anyone but his awkward self.

Jongin suddenly realises that his manager’s talking to him when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Huh?”

“I said, you can go home now, Jongin. It’s two.”

Jongin smiles weakly and runs to the back to grab his bag. He checks for Kyungsoo when he gets back, and when he doesn’t see him, Jongin assumes that he’ll be waiting outside the staff door. He lets out a small sigh, happy that his manager won’t see him leaving the cafe with a gang leader.

Sure enough, when Jongin goes outside, Kyungsoo’s leaning against his stupidly large motorbike, helmet under his arm. His jacket and boots are the same as always, Jongin assumes the jeans are different but he can’t really tell. Kyungsoo meets his gaze before he raises the plastic coffee cup to his lips, and to Jongin’s shock, downs the rest of the scalding hot drink in one go. Wow, Jongin thinks, feeling heat blisters on his tongue just from witnessing the act. This guy couldn’t be tougher if he tried.

Kyungsoo walks over towards Jongin, pausing mid way to toss the coffee cup into the trash. Jongin’s not sure what sort of idle chit-chat to expect - or maybe they’ll play 20 Questions again, but Kyungsoo just holds his helmet up to his face.

“Want a lift?” Kyungsoo asks, his expression as blank as ever.

It hasn’t even been 24 hours since he first asked, and the idea of hurtling towards his doom at the speed of light doesn’t sound any more appealing than before. Jongin’s about to try and find a way to respond before Kyungsoo smirks at him.

“You can say no.” Kyungsoo begins to lower the helmet away, but Jongin finds his hands grabbing it before he even knows what he’s doing. Something about that look on Kyungsoo’s face irks a part of him, like a strange need to protect a manly pride he never thought he had. His hands are trembling, and he’s pretty sure he’ll get flung off the bike and die, but Jongin looks Kyungsoo in the eye and makes himself nod.

“Let’s go,” he says, and his voice comes out shakier than he would have liked. He hopes Kyungsoo didn’t notice, but judging by the way he raises his eyebrows and lets out a soft chuckle, he did.

Kyungsoo turns and walks back towards the motorbike, leaving Jongin alone with the giant black helmet, that has one small entry for his skull to squeeze through. It presses into his cheeks as he forces it on, tight on his face and heavy on his neck. But there’s a faint smell of tobacco, and a cologne that Jongin’s only now realising that he already knows.

Moving his head feels strange with the added weight, and Jongin’s eyes have to adjust to seeing through the shaded visor. Kyungsoo’s now mounted the bike, his own helmet looking at Jongin expectantly. As Kyungsoo asks for his address and Jongin answers, finding it uncomfortable to speak through his squished jaw, it finally dawns on him that he’s really doing this. He awkwardly swings his leg over the giant metal contraption, pulling himself up and straddling the hard seat. He places his feet on what he assumes are foot rests, a few inches from the safety of the ground, and soon the only thing keeping him and Kyungsoo from toppling over will be pure speed.

It’s just like riding a bicycle, Jongin tells himself, his breathing becoming unsteady. Only a bit faster. He’s not very convinced.

“Hold on,” Kyungsoo’s voice is muffled by his helmet, and before Jongin can respond, he hears, and more than that, feels, the engine roar to life beneath them. It sends vibrations through his body, and Jongin can’t understand why anyone would chose this over the gentle, smooth ride a car or bus provides.

Kyungsoo uses his feet to keep the bike upright as he rolls the bike backwards, preparing to take off towards the road. Suddenly feeling unbalanced, Jongin can’t even stop himself from grabbing onto Kyungsoo’s leather jacket, just around his waist. It’s embarrassing, but it feels comfortable and natural. He keeps his hands where they are, hoping Kyungsoo doesn’t mind the contact.

They’re moving forward now, slowly heading towards the car park’s exit. It doesn’t feel as bumpy and unstable as he imagined, and Jongin’s thinking that this might not be so bad. But when Kyungsoo turns his wrist, the motor resonates with power as they lurch forward. And when they turn onto the street, the whole bike bends so far it’s almost parallel to the asphalt, and Jongin’s never felt so unsafe in his life.

The wind is whipping through Jongin’s white uniform shirt and across his skin, intensely cold despite the season. The speed is pulling him back with all it’s strength, and it feels like he’s a second away from flying off. He’s never felt anything like this, being out in the open makes everything on the road feel more intense. Jongin hears every engine rumble as they pass, smells the strong scent gas each car emits. And he dreads every corner, coming so close to the road he can almost feel the gravel scrape against his bare forearm. It’s all a constant assault on the senses, with everything around him screaming and pushing for his attention.

Kyungsoo’s wide back is the only thing that’s solid and unmoving, and Jongin could never have predicted that he’d ever be clinging onto it so hard, or that he’d find it so comforting. Something in his steady shoulders tells him that Kyungsoo’s completely in control, the thought of which lets Jongin relax a little for the first time around him.

It’s not long before Jongin gets used to the cool air, the noises and scents fade into the background, and the speed becomes thrilling and not terrifying. Every swerve feels exciting, like a ride at an amusement park, and when Kyungsoo makes a wrong turn and they head in the opposite direction from his home suburb, Jongin doesn’t even mind.

The detour has them twisting and turning through back alleys for a good ten minutes, and he has a theory that Kyungsoo did it all on purpose. He can’t see his face, but Jongin can’t imagine how Kyungsoo couldn’t be having as much fun as he is. Little by little they’re getting closer to his house, and Jongin can barely admit to himself that he doesn’t want it to end.

They slow down a little as Kyungsoo turns into Jongin’s street, and his adrenaline is still pumping when they pull up in front of his house. The engine cuts out and they both slide off the bike - Kyungsoo manages to rather gracefully, unlike Jongin, who’s foot gets caught on some sort of pipe and almost trips. His ears are ringing and his skin’s tingling, and Jongin can’t remember the last time he felt so exhilarated.

“So? How was it?” Kyungsoo asks after he pulls off his helmet, the top of his hair slightly messy.

“It was fine.” Jongin tries to sound calm, but he can’t find a way to keep the grin off his face.

Kyungsoo gives him an amused look in return. He opens his mouth to say something else, but a bark from behind them both steals their attention.

Jongin turns to the sound of whining and scratching against his front gate. His dogs must have been waiting for him to come home, and he can tell they already smell an unfamiliar guest, who they’re no doubt anxious to suss out.

The whining turns to piercing yapping, and Jongin shoots an apologetic look at Kyungsoo.

“Would you mind if I let my dogs meet you? They’re not going to shut up, otherwise.”

“Go for it,” Kyungsoo replies, and Jongin can’t help but notice his soft look. At least he’s clearly not an animal hater, Jongin reasons as he mentally deletes the images of Kyungsoo’s animal sacrifices from his imagination.

Jongin pulls the gate open, and his three poodles run straight to their new visitor, nervously tripping over each other in the process. The dogs spend a few seconds sniffing at Kyungsoo’s heavy black boots, and Jongin doesn’t know what to expect. They usually don’t take well to strangers - especially the fragile Jjang Ah - and he also can’t imagine any living creature not cowering in fear from standing under someone so intimidating.

But before he can try to rile them back inside the yard, the three are jumping onto Kyungsoo’s legs enthusiastically, their tiny claws occasionally getting caught in the rips of his jeans. Their mouths are open in big, doggy grins, and as Kyungsoo bends down to their fluffy heads, they all begin to playfully fight for his affection.

Jongin lets out a small breath he’s been holding, thinking that this is the first time his dogs have been so friendly and inviting. I guess they don’t see Kyungsoo the same way people would, Jongin thinks to himself. All those spikes and chains probably mean nothing, since they only care about getting pats. And to be this comfortable around someone new, Jongin can tell the poodles must be getting a good vibe from him.

They say animals are the best judges of character, but Jongin would never have imagined that even his scared little Jjang Ah would be a better judge than himself. Jongin smiles at this strange scene in front of him, Kyungsoo stepping around their moving bodies as he walks back to his bike, gently trying to pry the poodles off of him.

Kyungsoo’s getting ready to leave, and when he looks up purposively, Jongin knows what’s coming next. But seeing his dogs like this with someone gives him a spark of bravery, and before Kyungsoo can even open his mouth, he beats him to it.

“I’m working Friday, the same shift.” He’s still not sure why Kyungsoo wants to visit him at work, but he knows he will. And this time, he’s actually looking forward to it. Maybe Kyungsoo can give him another lift home. Plus, Sehun is working with him, and Jongin can’t wait to see his reaction to his new friend.

Kyungsoo doesn’t show any more reaction than a slight nod before he starts the motorbike’s engine and backs away. Jongin holds his poodles back from chasing Kyungsoo as he rides down the street, and he feels like his maybe they’ve taught him an important lesson today about people.

☀

Jongin would have liked to say that he enjoyed his day off more, but somehow, flopping on his bed and watching The Walking Dead on his laptop wasn’t as thrilling as usual. He supposes that after his ride home with Kyungsoo, even most roller coasters wouldn’t come close to comparing.

Or maybe it’s more that he’s unfocused, because Jongin found himself replaying the same scene three times in a row, trying to pay attention to the subtitles and not let his mind wander. It doesn’t help that one of the characters is wearing a familiar-looking leather jacket.

But despite the fact that he’s wasting more of the internet data, Jongin takes it as a good sign that for once his life is more exciting than being mauled by zombies.

And, more importantly, it’s more exciting than Sehun’s, which is the main reason why Jongin strides into the cafe the next day, for once excited for his shift because he can spend it bragging to him. He’s even avoiding texting him the story so that he gets to see the look on his face.

Sehun comes in a couple of hours after him, and Jongin tries to shoot him a knowing glance that says “I have the best news to tell you,” which he clearly doesn’t notice, because when Minseok goes on his break at half past one, Sehun’s on his phone, not at all prepared to learn that his best friend just became cooler than he’ll ever be.

“So, guess who went home on a motorbike the other day?” Jongin starts, waiting for Sehun to stop ignoring him for Instagram photos of Siren already.

“Minseok got a motorbike?” Sehun looks up in surprise, and Jongin hits his arm.

“No, stupid! I did! I mean… I didn’t get a motorbike, though… but I rode one!”

Sehun’s face is unconvinced as he rubs his abused limb. “Sure you did. There’s no way you could control one of those things, you need, like, months of experience.”

“Okay, someone else was driving it, but I was on the back! It was so cool!” Jongin grins and awaits Sehun’s awed reaction.

Which never comes. “Being on the back of a motorbike isn’t that cool, even I’ve done that,” Sehun drones, clearly unimpressed.

Well, maybe it wasn’t the coolest thing in the world that he risked his life on a giant bicycle of death, Jongin thinks, but he’s still not done talking.

“Guess who rode me home?”

Sehun furrows his eyebrows in deep thought before replying. “Well, I’m your only friend, and you don’t have any cool relatives, so I’m stumped.”

Jongin’s smile widens. Sehun has to think he’s amazing after this. “Remember the guy who fell asleep in the cafe?”

Sehun’s eyes finally widen. “The terrifying goth?”

“Yeah, his name’s Kyungsoo. I guess we’re friends now.”

“Wow…” is all Sehun can say at first, and Jongin thinks this is perfect payback for Sehun getting invited to a bar by their classmates before him.

“I guess he couldn’t have been that scary, then,” Sehun concludes.

“What? Of course he is! Or was, I mean, I’m totally used to him now. But he’s really intimidating, like you’d piss your pants if you saw him,” argues Jongin, awkwardly trying to protect both Kyungsoo’s image and his own.

Sehun just scoffs in response. “Jongin, I’ve seen you cry after being told off by an old woman. There’s no way you’d be able to even talk to a delinquent, let alone befriend one.”

Jongin is about to sigh in defeat, but he looks up at the sound of the cafe doors opening, and he can’t wait to prove him wrong.

“Look, it’s him.”

Kyungsoo definitely didn’t tone down his look today - thank God. In his all-black-and-metal clothes, his half-shaved hair and his pierced ears, he definitely stands out from the rest of the customers. But as Jongin takes in the sight of Kyungsoo walking up the counter, he realises that he wasn’t lying before. Kyungsoo’s appearance doesn’t ring any of the same alarm bells as it used to, and he finds himself focusing on facial features he hasn’t noticed since the first time Jongin saw him. Somehow, they start to make him feel nervous all over again.

Like the fact that Kyungsoo’s glare only really looks intense because of his thick brows, that make his round eyes more aggressive. Or how his cheeks are so smooth and soft, or how his lips are that unique heart shape that Jongin’s never seen on anyone else before.

But that’s clearly not what Sehun’s seeing, because when Jongin finally tears his gaze off Kyungsoo to see his best friend, his expression is pricelessly terrified. His jaw is dropped, mouth hanging wide open, and he’s a shade of white paler than the cafe walls. Jongin only wishes he could take a photo, but instead he pushes past to serve their new customer.

“Hey, ‘Soo,” Jongin says, before he can stop himself from using the lame nickname. But he knows it’s impressing Sehun, and Kyungsoo only raises an eyebrow in response, so he keeps going.

“Did you want another coffee, same as last time?” Jongin hopes it doesn’t look like he’s up to either of them, because that’s totally what he’s doing. But out of the corner of his eye, Sehun looks completely sold.

Kyungsoo’s more skeptical, but at least he seems amused. “Yeah.” Still a man of few words, he hands over the money and leaves to find a seat. Sehun finally turns to give Jongin a wide-eyed stare, who only responds by grinning as he starts to make Kyungsoo’s drink.

“That’s him?” Sehun whispers, taking a few nervous glances back to where he’s sitting.

“Yep,” is all that Jongin replies, now in the middle of grinding the coffee beans.

“Jongin, have I ever told you that my uncle’s a police man? Because I can ask him to protect you, if you need it.”

“I don’t need to be protected.”

“I think you do. You don’t have to say it out loud, just blink once for yes, and twice for no.” Jongin just rolls his eyes.

“Sehun, I need to blink. He’s not dangerous, he just… different.” Jongin feels a small smile forming on his lips, and his friend gives him a disgusted look in return.

“He’s got you brainwashed, hasn’t he? It’s Stockholm Syndrome, Jongin! Don’t fall into his trap!”

“Now you’re the one being dramatic.” Jongin pours the finished coffee into a cup. He leaves Sehun behind to give Kyungsoo his drink, but despite all his tough talk, Jongin can’t bring himself to say a word to him. He rushes back behind the counter, hoping that his cowardice isn’t noticed.

“But…” Sehun starts straight away after his return. “Why did he befriend you? Like, no offense, it’s just you don’t seem like his… type.”

“Offense taken, and I don’t know. That’s what I’ve been wondering this whole time.” This is the fourth day Kyungsoo’s come to the cafe, and Jongin’s pretty sure that the coffees he’s been making him aren’t that good. He could count the random questions he sometimes asks as proof of his interest, but more than anything, it’s just a feeling that Jongin has. There’s no doubt that Kyungsoo’s taken a liking to him. What Jongin can’t understand is what it is about him that he likes.

It’s the thought that’s been stuck on his mind for the last few days, the thing that’s been distracting him from thinking about anything else.

And today, it distracts him until almost the end of his shift. A quick glance at his phone shows him that it’s 1:56, and Jongin decides to waste the remaining four minutes by slowly organising the napkins into a neat pile, a job of utmost importance to the cafe. Sehun stays silent the whole time, until Jongin’s grabbed his bag and is about to leave.

“So, you’re really friends, huh?” Sehun says, looking contemplative.

“Yep,” Jongin responds. That’s certainly the best word he can use for their strange new relationship.

“Well, in that case, have you asked him?”

“Asked him what?”

Sehun stares at Jongin as if he’s stupid. “About why he was asleep in the cafe that day!”

Jongin pauses for a moment, and then a laugh escapes his mouth. With everything else that’s happened with him, somehow the fact that he met Kyungsoo asleep under one of the cafe’s tables doesn’t seem that relevant anymore.

He waves goodbye to Sehun, and as he turns to face Kyungsoo, expectantly waiting for him at that very same table, he doesn’t even feel the need to ask him. Or maybe he’s still just a little bit scared.

Kyungsoo finishes the last sip of his coffee and stands up. “Ready to go?”

Jongin’s heart jumps a bit at the question, glad that these rides home are seeming to be a set thing. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Kyungsoo side eyes Jongin as they walk towards the exit. “So, ‘Soo’, huh?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me- calling you that,” Jongin says, feeling his face heat up.

Kyungsoo chuckles softly, his voice low and gravelly. “It’s okay, I like it.”

The hot air hits them as they leave the aircon and walk towards the motorbike. As he grabs the helmet from Kyungsoo and puts it on more confidently this time, Jongin can already feel the thrill building up in his body.

But it’s not just for this ride home, but for the next one, and the ones after that, which Jongin feels more and more certain will happen. And for the new strange questions Kyungsoo will inevitably ask him while he waits for his coffees or smokes his cigarettes, in that way that would sound awkward coming from anyone else’s mouth. And for Jongin to start getting the courage to ask some of those questions back, discovering a new side to Kyungsoo that he originally never thought possible. After all, the summer holidays are only half over, and there’s still another month to go.

Once they’re on the motorbike, Jongin doesn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist. He looks over his shoulder to the staff door, remembering the day just a little over a week ago when his boring summer suddenly became this new - and slightly scary - adventure. And he can’t help but smile.

A/N: Thank you for taking the time out of your precious day to read all the way through! I really appreciate it~~~~ And if you liked it enough to comment, I would be so happy that I’d probably cry <3<3<3

Also follow me on tumblr at poodleyeol.tumblr.com :3 :3 :3