krisyeol

Oneshot Requests

 

It’s dark and rainy outside, so naturally the shop is deserted. In fact, there hasn’t been a customer in nearly an hour. Perched behind the bar, Chanyeol is bored. He is beyond bored. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s going to die in about ten seconds if something interesting doesn’t happen.

He’s already mopped the tiled floor; he’s already cleaned all the machines; he’s already wiped down the countertop – three times. He checks the time on his cell phone for what seems like the billionth time. It’s only ten after eight. He has another fifty minutes before closing time. He groans and lets his head fall onto the counter. It’s nights like these that he hates closing by himself. At least if there was another employee, he wouldn’t be dying of boredom.

The annoying little bell above the door tinkles, announcing somebody’s arrival. It’s been so long since he’s last heard it that it takes him a minute to even realize what it is, and by the time his brain makes that obvious connection, someone is talking to him.

“Does your employer pay you to sleep all day?”

The voice is deep, slightly accented, and definitely condescending. Chanyeol jerks his head up to look at the speaker, and he momentarily loses the ability to form proper words. Because this guy is hot. Like, smoking. He’s tall – very nearly as tall as Chanyeol, and that’s saying something – with dark, brooding eyes and a slender body that is barely hidden behind his button-up.

“Uh-er-I-that is…” Chanyeol silently curses his inability to form coherent thoughts when faced with someone he finds attractive. He takes a deep breath and starts over, plastering the I’m-a-normal-human-being-and-not-a-crazy-stalker smile that he’s worked so hard for on his face. “I’m sorry about that, sir,” he says as politely as he can muster when his heart can probably be heard three blocks away. “It’s been a slow night. Welcome to Café Jeje. Can I help you?”

The man just sniffs at Chanyeol’s attempt to be polite and professional, his eyes glancing over the brightly-colored menu on the wall above the bar. “What a limited menu,” he sneers, mostly to himself but loud enough that Chanyeol can hear him clearly. “I see the coffee places here can’t compare. Just get me a red tie. You do know how to make one, don’t you?”

Chanyeol grits his teeth and struggles to keep the smile in place, but he’s pretty sure it’s slipping into something more of a grimace. He hates rude people more than anything. “Yes sir, I know how to make one.”

He turns his back on the rude patron while he makes the drink, mouthing every insult he can think of under his breath.

“I can see your mouth in the mirror, you know,” the voice interrupts his apparently not-so-secret cursing. “And those aren’t words a kid your age should know.”

“I apologize, sir,” Chanyeol answers, and he’s not even pretending to be polite anymore. He just wants this guy to get out of the shop and never come back. He shoves the drink across the counter. “Here’s your drink. That’ll be ten thousand won.”

The guy is smirking as he slides his credit card across the counter, allowing Chanyeol to swipe it. He glances at the name out of habit before swiping it. Wu Yifan. Not Korean then. That would explain the accent. Not that he cares.

He shoves the card back at Mr. Wu. “Here you are. Have a nice night.”

The man only smirks, takes his coffee, and goes back out into the rainy evening.

“I hope you drown in a ing puddle!” Chanyeol yells once the door has swung shut behind him, and he figures that he’s been given enough reason to close up early.



 

 

It’s a Monday morning so of course the café is packed, so full of self-important businessmen and women wearing expensive suits that there’s hardly room to move in the tiny establishment.

“Two lattes and a medici,” Chanyeol repeats the order back to the overweight middle-aged man in front of him. “That’ll be twenty-one thousand won.”

The man hardly registers the price because he’s busy checking his e-mail on his smart phone, simply handing over his credit card for Chanyeol to swipe. It’s like this every morning, he thinks to himself as he returns the card and hurries to make the man’s drinks. Seoul is a city run by caffeine; he doesn’t know what the addicted population would do without the surplus of overpriced cafes on every corner.

He finishes with the two lattes and the medici and gives them to the customer, wishing him a pleasant rest of the day with one of his signature toothy smiles. The man doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that Chanyeol is speaking to him, simply takes his drinks and walks away.

When Chanyeol looks up and sees the next person in line, he automatically knows his day is going to go from bad to worse. It’s the tall, light-haired man from a few nights before, the one with the god-like body and the attitude of a raging bull.

Chanyeol quickly steps away from the counter before the man can register his face. He latches onto the elbow of the nearest coworker. “Help this next customer, Sehun,” he practically begs the younger. “I’m sure he’ll tip you well.”

Sehun, who is in the middle of making a mazagran, looks over his shoulder at the striking figure waiting at the counter. “Why?” he asks suspiciously, eyes narrowing at Chanyeol.

“I just don’t want to talk to him,” Chanyeol grumbles. “He doesn’t like me.”

Sehun rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby,” he mutters, going back to his mazagran. “Just do you job. Besides, next to that guy, you don’t look like such a giant freak of nature. Plus he’s kind of cute.”

“Please?” Chanyeol is getting desperate now. “I’ll do anything, Sehun-ah! I’ll even do your Chemistry homework. I know how bad you’re doing in that class and-”

“Excuse me? I’ve been waiting for over a minute here.” The annoying voice interrupts his pathetic begging.

Sehun smirks at him. “You heard the man, hyung. Just go take his order. How bad can he really be?”

Chanyeol is glowering as he stalks back over to the counter. The man, Wu Yifan, recognizes him immediately. He can tell by the way his lips turn up in a smirk.

“What can I get for you, sir?” Chanyeol asks without any trace of politeness in his voice.

The man clucks his tongue reprovingly at the informal way he’s being addressed, but chooses to overlook it. “Get me a yuanyang,” he says, fishing some crisp bills from his wallet. “And this time, you can keep your curses to yourself.”

"Yes sir,” Chanyeol grumbles through gritted teeth, going to make the beverage in question. He’s tempted to spit into the drink simply because he can’t stand this stuck-up bastard, but the mirrors along the back wall prevent him from doing anything without being seen, so he makes the coffee as quickly as he can and takes it back to the counter. “That’ll be twelve thousand won.”

“I hope this is better than the last drink you made for me,” Wu Yifan says, forking over the cash. “For this price, it had better be delicious.”

“If you have a problem with our prices, feel free to take your business elsewhere,” Chanyeol mutters from between clenched teeth, trying to tender the cash as quickly as possible so he can get this ridiculously tall out of his store.

Yifan arches an eyebrow so high it almost disappears beneath his light-colored fringe. “Is that any way to keep your business, kid?”

“We’ve got plenty of business, as you can clearly see,” Chanyeol says shortly, though of course he knows he should be more polite. He shoves the man’s change across the counter and forces a sarcastic smile. “Have a good day.”

“Yah, what’s gotten into you?” another of his coworkers, Junmyeon, says reprovingly when he stalks over to the machines to make the next customer’s drink. “I’ve never heard you be so rude to a customer before.”

“That guys pisses me off,” Chanyeol admits as he mindlessly fixes a frappucino.  “I don’t even care if he complains to the boss. I just hope he never comes in here again.”

Probably just because Chanyeol doesn’t want him to, Wu Yifan makes Café Jeje his daily coffee stop. He usually comes in with the morning rush, dressed in a suit with an expensive briefcase in tow. He always orders something different, always with the insinuation that Chanyeol doesn’t know how to make it, which in turn causes the curly-haired barista to make the drink haphazardly and throw the man’s change at him from across the counter.

Sometimes, though, Wu Yifan comes in late at night. In fact, some nights he’s Chanyeol’s only customer for hours. It’s times like these, when the store is all but deserted, that Chanyeol can’t busy himself with another customer.

It’s also times like this that Yifan likes to settle himself in one of the comfy armchairs in the corner, sipping on his drink and talking on his cell phone. Chanyeol tries not to pay him any attention, but it’s sort of hard when Yifan’s voice is almost as deep as his own.

As hard as he tries not to, Chanyeol learns a thing or two about Wu Yifan over the passing weeks. Like how the elder works at an advertising company where he makes enough money that he shouldn’t be complaining about the prices at the café. Like how he was born in China but grew up in Canada and has business associates across the globe. Like how he is fluent in more languages than Chanyeol can remember, able to speak professionally with any number of foreigners on a handphone that probably cost more than Chanyeol’s apartment. Like how he will sometimes lose himself in his thoughts, especially when the weather is rainy, staring out the front window until it is time to close up and Chanyeol has to ask him to leave.

What sticks out the most to Chanyeol about Wu Yifan, however, is his apparent lack of a social life. While he seems to know everyone in the advertisement business in the general vicinity of Seoul, Chanyeol has yet to see him have a conversation with anyone about anything other than business.

He doesn’t want to be interested. This guy is a grade-A prick (even Sehun had agreed to that after the third or fourth time Yifan had come in while he was there) and it isn’t even like Chanyeol cares.

“This is terrible,” Wu Yifan says with a displeased wrinkle of the nose. It’s late one evening and the shop is deserted except for the two of them, all the other employees having gone home already. Yifan had ordered a Guillermo, which Chanyeol is reluctant to admit he’s not as familiar with, so he sort of expected the older man to complain. “You really can’t do anything right, can you?”

Chanyeol simply glares at him.

Yifan rolls his eyes dramatically and takes another sip of the drink. “Just make yourself useful and bring me some sugar,” he orders.

“Here you go, your majesty,” Chanyeol can’t help himself from grumbling as he hands the suit-clad Chinese-Canadian a canister of sugar.

Yifan smirks. “Your majesty,” he repeats, the words rolling off his tongue in slightly-accented Korean. “I like that.”

Chanyeol tries to tell himself that he doesn’t like that Yifan likes the nickname he’s come up with.

“Just admit you’ve got the hots for him,” Sehun grins a few afternoons later. It’s raining so of course the store is deserted. It’s just the two of them, drinking plain coffees together since there’s nothing better to do.

Chanyeol wrinkles his nose over the steaming cup of black coffee cupped in his hands. “I do not,” he denied vehemently. “How on earth could I like such a stuck-up douchebag? He probably uses more hair products in a single morning than I even own.”

“Yeah well that’s not really a bad thing,” Sehun teases, reaching out to tug on one of Chanyeol’s unruly curls. “It wouldn’t hurt you to try a few hair care products yourself. And anyway,” he continues to grin even as Chanyeol swats his hand away. “Don’t lie to yourself. You’re dying to him into the mattress all night long.”

Chanyeol makes a grossed-out face. “Please. That is the farthest thing from my mind. More like I’d rather bash his face in with a hammer.”

"Or maybe you’d like to the be the one being ed,” Sehun suggests thoughtfully. “Or maybe you’d switch. You’re both so big that it’s hard to decide who would top and who would bottom.”

“You clearly have too much time on your hands,” Chanyeol mutters. While Yifan is undeniably attractive, he’s not into the foreigner in that way. He’s not into Yifan at all, he firmly tells himself.

Sehun grins. “Well here’s your chance to make a move.” He gestures towards the door with a nod of his head. “Here he comes. I’ll go take out the trash to give you some privacy.” With a wink he’s gone out the back door, probably to take a twenty-minute long smoke break.

Chanyeol gets flustered at once, though he tells himself it’s only because of Sehun’s ridiculous teasing and not because he’s attracted to Yifan. Because he’s not. Definitely not.

The bell above the door rings and Chanyeol turns towards it, not even bothering to paste on his fake smile because he knows it’ll only last about a millisecond with Yifan anyway. “We close in half an hour,” he begins, annoyed. “Can’t you come earlier in the evening? Who comes to drink coffee this late at night anyway?”

He stops before he can get too carried away, mostly because Yifan is, for the first time since he started coming to Café Jeje, not alone. He’s with a woman, a petite little thing that is pretty enough to be a model. He’s got his arm wrapped around her waist rather intimately, guiding her towards the counter.

“That’s not a very polite way to speak to your customers,” the woman says in an affronted voice, her accent thick and entirely unfamiliar.

Chanyeol blushes. “I-I’m sorry, miss,” he begins, ducking his head in apology. “I just-”

“Don’t mind him,” Yifan says with a smirk, leading her towards the cash register. “He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know his place yet.” He turns his condescending gaze on Chanyeol, whose cheeks are on fire by now. “Two espressos. You can manage that, can’t you?”

“Yes sir.”

It takes all of Chanyeol’s willpower not to just walk out of the café. He deals with annoying and frustrating and rude customers on a daily basis. He’s even managed to put up with Yifan and all his infuriating smugness for what? Weeks now? Months? But for some reason this, Yifan bringing a woman into the café, pisses him off like nothing else.

Yifan has paid and he and the woman have retreated to the armchairs by the window with their espressos by the time Sehun comes back in, smelling faintly of cigarette smoke.

“So did you make your move, cassanova?” Sehun begins, but he stops when he sees Yifan and the beautiful woman in the corner. They’ve got their heads bent together intimately. The woman has her hand resting lightly on Yifan’s knee, and she’s laughing at something Yifan has said. Yifan is even smiling, and Chanyeol is pretty sure he’s never seen the stoic prick smile at anything before. Sehun stops before he can get too far. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol mutters, though he’s not really sure what he’s agreeing to.

Sehun his head to the side, blatantly staring. “Wow. I definitely wasn’t expecting that. So he’s got a girlfriend.”

“It might not be his girlfriend,” Chanyeol says, though he’s not sure why he even cares. Because he doesn’t. “It could be a co-worker or something.”

Sehun gives him a flat look. “Yeah, well either that co-worker is giving your boyfriend a pretty frisky pat-down or she’s looking to get laid tonight. Sorry, bro.” He pats his friend on the shoulder. “I really didn’t peg him for a straight guy. We’ll find you somebody next time.”

Chanyeol shrugs him off. “I didn’t want him. He’s not my type. I’m not into s,” he lies.

Sehun clearly doesn’t believe him.



 

 

Chanyeol doesn’t even bother making snarky comments the next time Yifan comes in. Thankfully it’s during one of the morning rushes, so he doesn’t have to make too much of an excuse when Yifan rudely asks him ‘who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?’

He comes back again that night, half an hour before closing. Chanyeol is alone in the store by that time and he’s grateful that Yifan appears to be alone. He saunters up to the counter, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his designer suit, and peers at the menu even though by this point he’s ordered everything on it at least once and probably even has it memorized.

“I’ll take a chai latte,” Yifan says, still looking over the menu. “At least I know you can make a decent one of those.”

He quirks an eyebrow questioningly when Chanyeol doesn’t even rise to the bait, simply ringing up the drink and turning to make it.

“Yah, are you still in a bad mood?” Yifan teases, pulling some bills from his wallet. He’s been to the café enough times now and ordered this drink so often that he doesn’t have to ask the price – even though he will inevitably complain about how expensive it is.

Chanyeol doesn’t even turn around. He doesn’t want the older man to see the blush in his cheeks. “You shouldn’t speak so informally to me,” he says simply, voice wavering. “You don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

Yifan gives a dramatic look around the deserted café. “What people? Your imaginary friends?”

Chanyeol gives him a flat look as he turns around and shoves the coffee in his direction. “Just go, okay? I’m not in the mood tonight.”

For some reason, Yifan doesn’t argue. He hands Chanyeol his money and, without waiting for his change, takes his coffee and leaves, disappearing into the summer evening.

Yifan brings the pretty-faced foreign woman back to the café three times that week, always in the evening near closing time. They sit in the chairs by the window and converse, sometimes in Korean but mostly in a language Chanyeol doesn’t even recognize.

He tries not to let it bother him, but every time he sees them together the hurt, disappointment, and jealousy gets harder and harder to control. By the time Friday rolls around, he’s at his wit’s end and Sehun offers to close the store so he can go home early. It’s a relief to walk out and not have to take Yifan and his girlfriend’s order.

He sleeps late the following day, his only day off from school and work. He knows he should be productive and use what little free time he has to do homework, clean his tiny apartment, do the laundry that’s been piling up all week, go to the grocery store…but instead he lazes in bed until well after noon, only dragging himself out when his grumbling stomach demands to be satiated.

Of course, since he’s put off going to the grocery store for so long, there is absolutely nothing in the apartment for him to eat aside from a few slices of moldy bread. Groaning to himself, he gets dressed and leaves the peaceful solitude of his home to go in search of something to eat.

He’s standing in front of a nearby bakery display window, trying to decide which pastry he wants to try, when a familiar voice interrupts him. “Isn’t it a bit late for breakfast?”

Chanyeol grimaces and tries to ignore the way his heart starts pounding. He replies without even bothering to turn around. “That’s rich coming from a guy who goes for coffee at ten o’clock at night.”

“Fair enough,” Yifan murmurs, taking the place beside Chanyeol to stare at the display of delicious pastries. They’re silent for a moment, both tall enough that they tower over the people going around them but close enough to each other in height that their shoulders are brushing. It is Yifan who finally breaks the awkward tension. “Come on. I’ll buy you lunch.”

“No thanks,” Chanyeol’s mouth is saying before his brain catches up. “I don’t think your girlfriend will appreciate that very much.”

Yifan stares at him for a moment, genuinely confused. It’s such an endearing look on his usually y face that Chanyeol’s heart momentarily melts – but only for a moment. “Girlfriend?” he repeats in accented Korean. “What girlfriend?”

“That pretty girl you bring into the café all the time,” Chanyeol mutters, blushing because he’s admitting that he’s keeping count. “The foreign one.”

The corners of Yifan’s mouth turn up in a corner and he holds out his hand expectantly. “She’ll live,” he insists. “Now come on.”

Chanyeol doesn’t know why he accepts the hand, only that Yifan’s fingers feel warm and wonderful laced through his. He blindly allows the older man to drag him along, away from the more crowded streets, until they reach an out of the way restaurant on a side street. Neither speaks until they’re seated at an intimate table in a corner, sheltered from the rest of the restaurant.

“Why’d you ask me to lunch?” Chanyeol demands suspiciously as he looks over the menu.

Yifan shrugs, leaning back in his chair, long legs stretched out underneath the table. “I figured I owed you for always being such a prick.”

“Ah, so you’re aware that you’re a prick,” Chanyeol muses. “That’s good, at least.”

The older man laughs, and it’s a rich sound that sends shivers down Chanyeol’s spine. It’s the first time he’s ever heard Yifan laugh. “Yeah, it’s sort of an occupational hazard,” he admits.

“So all advertising executives are douches,” the younger comments, setting his menu aside. “I’ll keep that in mind in the future.”

Yifan rests his elbows on the table, fixing Chanyeol with an intense smirk. “How’d you know I worked in the advertising industry?”

“You talk on the phone pretty loudly,” Chanyeol mutters. “It’s pretty easy to notice things.”

“And what else have you noticed about me?”

Chanyeol swallows, not meeting Yifan’s probing gaze. “You miss Canada. You don’t have many friends here because you work all the time. You’re really good at speaking different languages, but you’re even better at playing basketball. You also have a soft spot for kids, though I don’t think you want people to know that.”

Yifan hums affirmatively. “You’re very observant,” he gives in.

They’re silent for a moment, and then their waiter arrives to take their order. It isn’t until the waiter is gone that Yifan restarts the conversation.

“Aren’t you curious what I’ve noticed about you?” he asks softly.

Chanyeol scoffs. “What on earth do you know about me? Unlike you, I don’t talk loudly on the phone in public places.”

Yifan smirks, but it’s softer than usual. “I know that you’re a senior in University, studying math because you want to be an accountant. I also know that you’re incredibly clumsy, but very gifted when it comes to playing instruments.”

Chanyeol gapes at him. “How on earth do you know that about me?” He lowers his voice. “Have you been stalking me?”

“You’re not as discreet as you think you are,” Yifan answers with a laugh. “I also know that you can’t stand me.”

“I-it’s not that I can’t stand you,” Chanyeol stammers, feeling awkward.

Yifan laughs again and reaches across the table, taking Chanyeol’s trembling hand in his own. “I also know that you think I’m hot.”

Chanyeol finally looks up to meet Yifan’s forward gaze. It’s earnest and somehow gentle despite how they manage to go at each other’s throats every time they see each other.

He clears his throat. “I should probably go,” he mutters, not making any move to remove his hand from the elder’s. “This was a bad idea. Your girlfriend already doesn’t like me.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Yifan says simply. “She’s a client. I’m working on an advertising campaign for her cosmetics company. She’s well aware that I don’t swing her way, even if she was interested.”

Chanyeol stares at him blankly. “Oh.”

“So, you see, the position of being my significant other is wide open,” Yifan continues with another smirk.

The younger swallows again. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“Are you saying yes?”

“…o-okay.” 


For: mochiiimin

Prompt: Chanyeol works at a cafe and Kris is a rude customer. 

This one gave me a lot of trouble OTL it was really hard to make it a oneshot rather than a full story. I hope I did it justice ^^

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Comments

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sookai-
#1
Chapter 14: love this so mucccch. comfy lazy morning sx is the best and i always love me some dom!soo :) hope you'll write more like this ~ <3
silversevensnow
#2
Chapter 17: fucccccccc yy
chensubs #3
Chapter 36: wowoowowoowooow im so in love with baeksoo
KKAMJAKNOLLA
#4
Chapter 7: wooahh sehun so bold with his action and loveit bcs sehun fight and wait for jongin to be ready in relationship \^^/
KKAMJAKNOLLA
#5
Chapter 3: oohhh this is so sweet..
my kaisoo babies
AlwaysLay
#6
Chapter 21: Goddamnit! Why did this need to be written?!
I didn't ship it before, even though I knew of the friendship, but I sure as hell do now!
leoshi_bishoujo
#7
Chapter 19: *kick Jongdae and fly to Antartika. I kinda don't want to know Jongdae will act hate towards Soo or not later uhhhh :((
Beloved_1230 #8
Chapter 20: So did Kris do Tao because it was like a pleasant distraction of killing him ?
Jaywalking-Panda
#9
Chapter 6: my gosh wow hehe krisoo and boyfriends! the best
Jaywalking-Panda
#10
Chapter 4: krisyeol keke rude kris this story was cute