pairing: kaisoo.
word count: 3300.
rating: PG-13.
genre: fluff, humour.
summary: jongin is a stressed out college student. kyungsoo is involuntarily in denial.
 

Knock, knock. “Hey, tiny bossman?” Kyungsoo turns around and fixes Chanyeol with the coldest, deadest look he can muster. Sadly, Chanyeol has long grown immune to glares, and his smile simply widens as he leans on the recently emptied cake display. Kyungsoo heaves a sigh. This is what he gets for hiring someone he has known since they were both wearing diapers. “You all good here?”

Kyungsoo sighs again. “I guess I have to be, don't I?” At least Chanyeol has the good grace to look a tad guilty, which Kyungsoo appreciates. Nonetheless, he rolls his eyes. “I'm kidding, you idiot. I can handle closing just fine on my own. You go have your little date or whatever.” In the blink of an eye, Chanyeol's grin is back on his face. He blows Kyungsoo a kiss and starts making his way to the back of the store with long strides, removing his apron as he goes. Kyungsoo shakes his head.

Minutes later, Chanyeol reemerges, already wearing a thick scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face and an ear flap hat. “Oh, by the way,” he mumbles. He spits and sputters as he gets a mouthful of knitwear and has to pause with just one arm inside the sleeve of his coat to pull down the scarf before attempting to speak again. “By the way. Some guy I totally don't know is sleeping at table nine. I would have woken him up, but he looked like he really needed the rest, so...”

“Yeah, yeah, I'll take care of that as well,” Kyungsoo says. “I just hope for your sake that this guy isn't a murderer, otherwise I'll make sure to come back from the dead to kick you in the throat.”

“I'd like to see you try. You probably can't even reach up here with those short little legs.” Chanyeol is rushing out the door before Kyungsoo has made it all the way around the counter to throttle him. As he goes, he calls out a way too cheerful: “See you tomorrow, tiny bossman!” Goddamn buffoon. Kyungsoo should've just vaulted himself over the counter instead, it would have been faster.

Just like Chanyeol said, there's a guy sleeping in a corner of the shop, their last remaining customer of the night. His figure is hunched over the table, which hosts an array of papers spread out across the surface as well as a laptop, asleep just like its owner. Kyungsoo can't see the guy's face with the hood of the sweatshirt pulled up over it. He's probably a college student, though. They get a lot of those here, seeing as the coffee shop is close to campus.

Kyungsoo steels himself. He has never been great with social interactions, especially not ones with unpredictable outcomes. Perhaps he should have made Chanyeol do this before allowing him to leave. No. Kyungsoo is an adult. He can do this. In his head, he prepares responses to several possible (and some impossible) scenarios, just to be safe, and then he taps the guy's arm with the handle of his broom. It takes several jabs before the guy actually starts to stir, and when he turns his head just enough to glance up at Kyungsoo through one blearily cracked eye, Kyungsoo feels instantly more at ease. He knows this guy. Well, he doesn't really know him, per se, but he's been a regular for a while now, and Kyungsoo is at least familiar enough with him to be fairly certain that he won't cause any trouble. “Hey,” Kyungsoo says. “Sorry to wake you, but we're closing.”

The guy – Kyungsoo is pretty sure his name is Jongin – sits up slightly, casts a glance around the empty shop. “Closing?” he repeats, voice scratchy with sleep. “Mhm. What time is it?” It's just after ten, and Kyungsoo tells him so. Jongin starts laughing and keeps laughing for, like, an almost weird amount of time. His head falls back down against the table with a worryingly loud thump, dampened only by fluffy bangs. “Crud. I didn't mean to sleep for so long. I'm supposed to turn this paper in before midnight, but I'm not even done with it cause I fell asleep instead like a damn fool.” His shoulders rise and fall with something that's half sigh, half semi-hysteric laughter. “I'm gonna fail this class. I'm gonna get kicked out of school. I'm gonna get disowned.”

Despite what several of Kyungsoo's friends seem to believe, he does actually have a heart, and it twinges sadly somewhere behind the dense walls he has constructed around it. Something about Jongin's dejected tone and resigned air just gets to him. It wasn't long ago that Kyungsoo was in the same exact situation, fretting over impending deadlines looming over him, so he gets it. He taps Jongin's arm again, this time with his actual hand. “Listen, uh...” Wait. Would it be creepy for Kyungsoo to reveal that he knows Jongin's name? Is it normal for baristas to memorize the names of their customers? Or, really, customer. Singular. Maybe Kyungsoo should focus less on whether it's creepy and more on the fact that Jongin's name seems to be the only one he remembers.

“Jongin.” Thankfully, he seems to interpret Kyungsoo's silence as him waiting for Jongin to tell him his name, and so he does. What a pure soul. “My name is Jongin.”

“I'm Kyungsoo.”

“I know.” The flush in Jongin's cheeks rises along with Kyungsoo's eyebrows. “Uhhh, because...” His eyes dart around frantically for a moment before settling somewhere in the area of Kyungsoo's chest. “Y-your nametag.” Kyungsoo looks down his own body, and, oh, right. His nametag, pinned to the front of his apron. Of course.

“Well, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says. “I don't usually do this, but if you'd like, I guess you can stay here and continue working on your assignment while I finish closing up the shop.”

Jongin's eyes widen. It's cute. He's cute. What? “Really? Are you allowed to do that?”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “I own the shop, I think I'm allowed to do pretty much whatever I want with it.”

A chuckle. “You own the shop.” It's said under his breath, soft, so soft Kyungsoo struggles to make out the words. He's not sure he was even supposed to hear them, and he doesn't know how to reply to them, either, so he just presses his lips together and tries not to stare as Jongin chews on his own. “Is it really okay?”

“Take it or leave it,” Kyungsoo grumbles. There's something bubbling within him, like a can of soda that has been shaken. He doesn't particularly like it, this feeling of being out of one's depth. It's... unsettling. He bangs his broom against the floor to tear himself out of his stupor. “Come on, what's it gonna be? I don't have all night.” Jongin quickly tilts his head in a seated bow, thanking Kyungsoo profusely for letting him stay, but Kyungsoo dismisses him with a wave of his hand and walks off to start sweeping the floor, his heart thumping heavily in his chest.

And the surreptitious glances Kyungsoo keeps sneaking at Jongin while they both work is only to make sure he hasn't fallen asleep at the table again.

And the cup of coffee he makes for Jongin, free of charge, is only because he was making one for himself, anyway.

And the chocolate muffin he places on the table without as much as looking at Jongin was one Kyungsoo was planning on taking home or throwing away, they pride themselves on serving freshly baked goods in this establishment.

And if Kyungsoo spends more time counting the money in the cash register than usual, it's only because he's feeling a little lethargic at this time of night, at this time of the year.

It's sheer coincidence, definitely, truly, honestly, that Kyungsoo just so happens to be done exactly when Jongin leans back in his seat and stretches his arms above his head with a satisfied groan. He looks over at Kyungsoo and grins. Kyungsoo gulps. “I finished it,” Jongin tells Kyungsoo, sounding almost as if he can't believe it himself. He looks so proud, so happy, so bright.

Kyungsoo gulps again. “Good job,” he says, and Jongin laughs. It's cute. He's cute. What???

“I don't really know if I would classify it as a good job, but at least it's out of my hair.”

“Does that mean I can finally go home now?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Oh, were you waiting for me?”

Kyungsoo balks. He wasn't. He totally wasn't. Really. He was not. “What? No! Why would I wait for you? Don't be ridiculous.” Jongin just shrugs. The beatific smile stretched across his face makes it seem like he knows something Kyungsoo doesn't. It makes Kyungsoo's skin tingle. He huffs. “Hurry up and pack your things, I want to leave.” Jongin gathers his papers and stuffs them into a weathered backpack along with his laptop. Kyungsoo goes to the back of the store to get his own things. He ignores the heavy feeling in his chest.

The January night is frosty, blowing freezing wind through the streets, biting at the tips of their noses, the tips of their ears, the tips of Kyungsoo's fingers before he hurries to pull on his gloves. At least it's not snowing anymore, he thinks as he scowls balefully at the piles of snow pushed up against the side of the building to clear the sidewalk. Jongin doesn't seem to be appropriately dressed for the season in his sweatshirt and a thin jacket. “I'm just gonna walk,” Jongin answers when Kyungsoo asks him how he's planning on getting home.

“It's pretty cold tonight, though. You'll freeze to death.”

Jongin smiles. “It's not f-far,” he promises, even as his teeth chatter. Something deep inside of Kyungsoo aches at the thought of Jongin having to walk home like this. Goddamnit.

With a sigh, Kyungsoo unwraps his scarf and holds it out while looking only at Jongin's ratty sneakers. Stupid kid doesn't even have the common sense to wear proper footwear in this cold. So stupid. When Jongin hesitates, Kyungsoo shoves it at him more insistently. “Just take it already.” Jongin still doesn't seem sure about it, and Kyungsoo heaves another heavy exhale.

Jongin is pretty tall, so Kyungsoo has to raise himself up on his toes as he takes matters into his own hands and reaches up to wrap the scarf around Jongin's neck himself. They're close like this. He can feel Jongin's breath, shivering. From the cold, probably. Kyungsoo pointedly avoids meeting Jongin's gaze. Instead, his eyes lingers somewhere around Jongin's slightly parted lips, but... looking at Jongin's mouth is also...

Kyungsoo quickly finishes his work and takes a step back to put a safer amount of distance between them. Jongin reaches a hand up to touch the scarf almost reverently. “Thank you,” he says, voice soft. The apples of his cheeks have flushed a pretty pink. From the cold, probably.

“It's not a big deal,” Kyungsoo mutters. “You can just return it to the shop at some point. Like, tomorrow. Or something. I don't know.” Why is he rambling?

“You're sure it's okay? You don't need this yourself? I've been told it's pretty cold tonight.”

A dismissive hand gesture. “I'll be fine,” Kyungsoo assures him. He's all snuggled up in his large winter coat, faux fur lining the hood. Besides, there's a strange warmth emanating from his core and spreading throughout his insides that keeps him nice and toasty. It also makes him want to do reckless things, and that's... that's pretty scary. He takes another step backwards. “A-anyway. I should get going if I want to catch my bus. I'll see you around, I guess.” He starts walking.

“Get home safe,” Jongin calls out after him. Kyungsoo walks a little faster.

Knock, knock. “Hey, tiny bossman?” Kyungsoo hates Chanyeol. Like, actually, genuinely despises him. He would fire him in a heartbeat, but his mom is best friends with Chanyeol's mom, and his brother is married to Chanyeol's sister, and Kyungsoo would have to expect several harshly worded phone calls if he did so. Nepotism at its finest. So, all he can do is communicate his intense hatred via scathing glares that Chanyeol, as per usual, ignores. “Someone asked for you.”

“Who?” Kyungsoo wants to know. Chanyeol just does a weird shimmy-shrug of his shoulders and wiggles his eyebrows as he disappears back to the front of the store to man the register. Kyungsoo sighs. He would rub his temples, too, but his hands are smeared with chocolate batter from the cakes he's baking. He washes his hands first, then rubs his temples, because he feels like he still needs to even after all that. Then he leaves the kitchen.

It's Jongin, standing by the counter, and Kyungsoo is somewhat surprised to see him there. And he asked for Kyungsoo? “Hey,” he says as Kyungsoo walks over. “I just... wanted to thank you for yesterday. Again. And I wanted to give you this.” He reaches into his bag – a shoulder bag, today – and pulls out the scarf Kyungsoo lent him. Kyungsoo stares at it, stares at Jongin. Why would he go out of his way to come in here in the middle of the afternoon rather than stopping by on his way to school? And why would he ask for Kyungsoo? Specifically Kyungsoo? Jongin's shy smile falters when Kyungsoo doesn't say anything. “Uh, I hope it's okay that I came. Chanyeol-hyung said you wouldn't be here until after lunch cause you closed the shop yesterday.”

If Kyungsoo's life had sound effects, there would be a record scratch inserted here. “Wait,” he says slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Chanyeol-hyung? You know Chanyeol?”

Jongin seems unsettled by Kyungsoo's glare. “Well, y-yeah, he's dating my roommate.”

Oh.

Oh.

Suddenly, everything makes sense. It clicks in Kyungsoo's brain like pieces of a puzzles coming together to form a big picture, and now he understands that Chanyeol is truly a lying sack of scam artist manure. Kyungsoo smiles. “Excuse me for a moment, I have some murdering to do.”

Jongin seems surprised when Kyungsoo walks away from him, though not nearly as surprised as Chanyeol looks when Kyungsoo grabs him by his giant ear and drags him to the backroom to shove him up against the wall. “Please, no, I have a family,” Chanyeol pleads once he notices Kyungsoo's stormy expression. “A wife and three... four! F-four kids. Please.”

Kyungsoo jabs him in the chest with a finger to make him shut the hell up. “Listen here, you glorified pool noodle. You are going to tell me what's going on. Right ing now.”

Chanyeol's eyes flutter frantically. He lets out a nervous laugh. “I-I don't know what you're talking about.” He yelps as Kyungsoo slams his hand flat against the wall right next to Chanyeol's head.

“Don't lie to me, Park. I'll burn your entire Rilakkuma collection.” He pokes Chanyeol's sternum again as he growls: “Every.” Poke. “Last.” Poke. “Bear.” Poke.

A startled gasp falls from Chanyeol's lips as an expression of unbridled horror washes over his face. Then he frowns, narrowing his eyes doubtingly. “You're bluffing,” he says.

Kyungsoo leans closer. Like, way too close. Uncomfortably close, really. Lucky for them, there's no such thing as personal boundaries between them anymore. He has seen Chanyeol's , both willingly and unwillingly, enough times that he no longer shies away from physical contact, which is particularly helpful whenever Kyungsoo is overcome with the urge to beat him up. Or at times like this. “Try me, ,” he hisses, right up in Chanyeol's face.

For a long time, Chanyeol stares Kyungsoo directly in the eye as though he's trying to determine whether or not Kyungsoo is being legit. The longer he stares, the more clear it becomes that Kyungsoo is not going to back down, and when Chanyeol finally realizes this, his features turn back to panic. “Oh god, okay, listen. We did have in the kitchen, but I swear it was just one time, and I made sure to wipe everything down with disinfectant after, and–”

Kyungsoo's confusion is enough to make him back up somewhat. What is Chanyeol even...? “What? No, you egg, not that.” Although, Kyungsoo is definitely going to come back to that later when there's not a cute guy waiting for him. If Jongin even bothered sticking around after all this. “I'm talking about Jongin. Why did you pretend not to know him yesterday?”

“Oh, is it just that?” Chanyeol relaxes noticeably. He tenses up again, however, when Kyungsoo grabs him by the collar. Good. Kyungsoo can't allow him to feel too safe. “Look, I was just... trying to help a bro out. I thought that maybe you like him back cause you always make googly eyes at him when he walks in.”

“I do no such thing. That's just my face.”

Chanyeol's eyebrows shoot up. “Uh, I've known you for a very long time, so I know what 'just your face' looks like, and I can tell you for a fact that that is not it.” Kyungsoo would dispute the statement, but finds that he doesn't actually have a solid argument. Is... is Chanyeol right? Does Kyungsoo, like, like like Jongin? Is that what those unexplainable heart palpitations are, the weird jabs in his belly, the warmth he feels whenever he talks to him, the burst of excitement he feels when he sees Jongin walking into the shop? “Yes, there they are! The googly eyes! Man, I'd say you're just as in love with him as he is with you. It's kind of cute to witness you pining after each other, but also kind of frustrating to watch as a bystander, hey, where are you going?”

Astonishingly, Jongin is still there, waiting by the counter as Kyungsoo walks up to it. He's still holding that damn scarf. “Is everything alright?” he asks, and he seems genuinely worried. It's cute. He's cute. Yes.

“Do you like me?” Kyungsoo fires back. Beating around the bush is unlike him, and yet he has apparently been doing it for a long time without meaning to. So he's done with it now.

A series of emotions flicker over Jongin's face, like he's not quite sure how to feel about being confronted so directly. The expression he eventually settles on looks a lot more determined than his voice sounds when he replies: “Uhm, yeah.”

“Good,” Kyungsoo says. “It has recently come to my attention that I probably like you too.”

“Probably?” Jongin repeats. There's a small, apprehensive smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, though, which turns into a full-fledged grin when Kyungsoo firmly says:

“Definitely.”

“Good to know.” Jongin bites his lip. “Can I take you out for coffee some time?” It's a cute gesture. It's cute because Jongin is, objectively, cute, and everything he does will be indisputably cute by association. And Kyungsoo would love to have coffee with Jongin, but...

Kyungsoo stretches his arms out in an all-encompassing motion. “We're literally in a coffee shop right now. A coffee shop that I own.” Jongin seems to realize the error in his question as well now that Kyungsoo has brought it up. Flush rising in his cheeks, Jongin chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, and he looks embarrassed and dejected and so damn cute, Kyungsoo just wants to squeeze him. “I'll accept a meal, though,” he suggests instead. “How about dinner?” Jongin lights up at that, nodding.

And he reaches out to place his hand on top of Kyungsoo's, resting on the counter.

And he lowers his eyes with a bashful smile when Kyungsoo interlaces their fingers.

And Kyungsoo feels so, so warm inside.

~*~

A/N: it's probably the 13th somewhere in the world by now. :))))))))))

title: wow, I can't believe this author is still stuck in 2013. pairing: oh, it's another stupid birthday story, isn't it? rating: disappointing lack of smexy times and honestly lack of any and all physical contact. genre: pwp except there's no p*rn so it's really just the 'without plot' part. hah. I don't know. this story is gross. very gross. but I actually kind of like it a lot, and I made myself laugh with some parts, so that's pretty good, I guess???

ps. happy birthday, do kyungsoo. ♥ happy birthday, kim jongin. ♥
pps. chanyeol is my favorite character in this. note: he does not actually have any children, but... use your imagination to decide who he's dating. :)))))
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