Minho was like a warm mug of coffee to him. Spreading warmth in him just by his sight. But there was another reason why Taemin had that impression of him. Minho would always be in the kitchen when Taemin entered their shared apartment after his day, greeting him with a warm smile, his rich, soft voice asking, “I’m making coffee. Would you like some?”

Taemin did not have the heart to refuse his good-hearted gesture, nor could he deny his need for something warm after spending all day in the cold. So that was how he ended up holding a warm mug in his palms, leaning near the sink as Minho let loose a conversation while doing the dishes.

The steam from the coffee might have fogged up Taemin’s glasses too much, or perhaps, his gaze was too lost in Minho’s existence...that he never noticed how Minho’s mug always remained untouched.

Taemin had a change of schedule in his part-time jobs so he no longer had to wake up very early. But he realized he had been waking up that early for too long and he couldn’t sleep in as much as he wished to. So he woke up and made himself a proper breakfast...and by the time he was finished, it was almost time to leave. He noticed Minho woke up when he was finishing up so he started leaving him a mug of coffee. Minho accepted it with a smile and wished Taemin a good day. Taemin indeed had a good day when Minho wished him so.

But one day, he had forgotten his wallet so he turned back, relieved that he hadn’t walked too far before remembering. When he unlocked the apartment, he saw Minho cautiously sipping at the coffee and making a face of distaste. His heart fell in his stomach, seeing him make that face. He came to his senses the next moment. Maybe, he doesn’t like the coffee I make. Maybe, I don’t make it well enough.

He entered, startling Minho, who greeted him curiously. Taemin explained about the wallet he forgot and grabbed it quickly. He did not want to, but perhaps that little thing had affected him more than he had expected it to and he ended up replying to Minho’s goodbye coldly.

Taemin did not make Minho coffee again after that day.

The semester had ended and it was snowing heavily every now and then. Minho suggested they stocked up on their rations because it was going to snow continuously come the next week. Taemin agreed because they could split the cab fare and other things that they could use together.

They were done shopping and Minho was trying to book a cab back.

“I booked it,” He said, “But it will be here in 30 minutes.”

“Okay,” Taemin sighed. He really wanted to sit down for a while. The supermarket was noisy and had no more place where they could sit...and it was too cold to sit out on the benches. His eyes caught a coffee shop nearby and he suggested, “How about some coffee? We can drink it slowly and wait inside until the cab arrives.”

“Sounds good,” Minho replied, picking up their bags from the cart, handing some to Taemin. They walked in and Minho caught a table, while Taemin bought the coffee. He had bought them something different- a slightly fancy latte.

He carefully handed Minho his cup before he took off his gloves and began warming his palms on the warm cup, sighing in that momentary blissful warmth.

Minho chuckled at him but did the same.

Taemin began drinking his latte and he watched Minho from the corner of his eye. If perhaps Minho liked this coffee better, he could buy it from the coffee shop that was next to their apartment for him. He really did want to do something in return for all the coffees Minho had made him, for all the bad days his sweet gesture had wiped off.

Minho might have taken the cup to his lips, but had not drunk any...because there was no coffee stain near the rim...and his contents seemed to have remained at the same level.

“Sorry, is it not good?” Taemin asked, “Should I get you a different one?”

Minho’s eyes widened and he blinked, “No, it’s perfect. I...I like it...a little cold.” He picked up the cup and took a sip, and though it was upon his face for a fleeting moment...Taemin caught the distaste he had suppressed.

Taemin downed his coffee in one go and got up, “I’ll get you another one. Do you like something sweeter? Or something stronger?”

“No, really, Taemin, it’s fine.”

“It’s okay, your’s has gone cold anyway-” But Minho halted him by catching his wrist, “No matter what you buy, I wouldn’t be able to drink it.”

Taemin blinked. Minho let go of his wrist because Taemin was now returning to his seat, a question in his eyes.

“Um...I don't like coffee,” Minho spoke in a whisper, getting flustered.

“But then…” Taemin began, his brows constricting in confusion, “Why would you make coffee for both of us? Why did you accept it when I offered it to you?”

“I...damn,” Minho covered his eyes, “I didn’t want to say it like this…” He dropped his hand back onto the table and sat straighter, yet there was a slight blush strewn across his face, “I thought you might refuse it if I said I was making it just for you? So I made a cup for myself as well. And...I always accepted yours because you put so much effort into it, I didn’t want it to be wasted.”

Taemin felt his heart flutter at his words. He lowered his gaze and fidgeted with the handle of his cup, “You should have just thrown it away.”

“I thought maybe I would like it,” Minho answered, his tone slightly bashful, “If it was you who made it.”

Taemin looked at him, feeling his cheeks burn, “Coffee is coffee, no matter who makes it.” He paused, “Do you like hot chocolate?”

“Yes?” Minho replied, taken aback at Taemin’s sudden inquiry.

“Let’s go,” Taemin said, getting up, his face flushing.

“Where?” Minho asked, getting up as well.

“The supermarket.” Taemin answered, clearing his throat to make his voice sound less embarrassed, “To buy some cocoa powder.”

“No, that’s-”

“I want to make you some,” Taemin answered, turning away, knowing he couldn’t say this with a straight face, “With the same intent you made me coffee every evening.”

Minho didn’t object anymore and followed Taemin out. When they had stepped out the cafe, Taemin felt Minho slide his hand into his, entangling their fingers. He returned the gesture and looked to his side, finding Minho blushing profusely.

Taemin smiled to himself.

I had it wrong from the beginning. He’s more of a sweet hot chocolate than a warm mug of coffee.