hey look i'm not dead WOOHOO to make up the fact for my long absence, take this super long oneshot man.
i've been really wanting to get this chapter up, but i had been stuck on finding the flow for it--so i'm sorry if the pacing is inconsistent or just awkard ;-;
but other than that, i hope you enjoy! also, this is unedited so pls forgive, thank

---

“Mr. Wu, this will be good for you,” Officer Yixing had said firmly as he had directed Kris to the intersection in which he would be working at. “Perhaps next time you’ll think twice before disrupting the peace.”

 

“‘Perhaps next time you’ll think twice before disrupting the peace,’” Kris repeats in a mocking high pitched voice, eyes going cross-eyed and tongue sticking out ridiculously as he reiterates his own version of what had happened a few days ago.  He scoffs as he recalls how low they had treated him—dinky little jail cell and all! Him, of all people! “Dammit, I was drunk and this isn’t fair. Haven’t they ever been taught they should be giving second chances to those who truly deserve it?”

 

Kris grumbles to himself as he kicks at the chair that had actually been thoughtfully set up for him by the previous crossing guard, a lone water bottle keeping him company under the unforgiving sun. “And it’s hot as hell!” he cries as he flings the stop sign onto the ground, giving it a few good stomps and kicks to release his frustration viciously. “This is not ‘community service,’ this is them getting revenge on me for all those  times when I was little and I would refuse to go visit the police station on the field trip! Well, screw you, police department for keeping the peace.”

 

Okay, so maybe Kris is being a tiny bit of a whiny baby about this whole ordeal. And maybe going out to drink at 2am was not a good idea. And maybe it hadn’t been a good idea for him to sing victoriously throughout the streets of Seoul, as he had landed himself a deal with an investor whom he had been pining after for a good amount of time. And maybe, just maybe, that hadn’t been a good idea, because he was Kris Wu, a fairly young CEO and President of one of the largest text messaging companies out there, who had a reputation to maintain as he was often belittled by other more mature and much more respected companies. It definitely wasn’t a good idea when he landed the front page of almost every newspaper out there and became one of the leading stories on the most popular news network in Korea of him almost stripping .

 

All that hard work and respect down the drain. What was he supposed to do now, when whenever he brought up a new idea to refresh and attract new customers, all anybody could talk about was ‘the CEO who went rampaging like a mad man at an ungodly hour’?

 

His secretary, a scathing and geeky looking young man by the name of Luhan, had hurriedly thought up of a plan to win the public back all over again. If it wasn’t Kris’s stunning (self-proclaimed) good looks, it was to be his personality. Admittedly, Kris’s personality is pretty ty, but in his defense, he tries (one time, he had attempted to smile at their receptionist but had instead received a look between pure terror and absolute bewilderment). Luhan had almost lost faith in Kris when he went through a tantrum that lasted a good long while, screaming about how bad he must now look to his family, friends, customers, employees, and the list went absurdly on.

 

“MR. WU!” Luhan had finally screamed right back, catching his attention mid-rant. He barely managed to stop himself from screeching into Luhan’s face once more, practically breathing out his rage and confusion as he stared down hard at the man. His secretary adjusted his glasses in a contempt manner, glaring at him in all his 5’8” joy, nothing compared to Kris’s 6’1” glory. “Get a hold of yourself, sir, how about this—to look good to the public, you have to be with the public.”

 

“What the hell does that even mean?” Kris had seethed. Luhan raised an eyebrow. He paused for a minute before his eyes went comically wide. “Do you mean for me to get down and—and gritty?”

 

“Mr. Wu, let me put it simply for you,” Luhan responded with a patronizing sigh. “You’re going to do community service, whether you like it or not.”

 

So now Kris is stuck at a stupid cross walk, a stupid crossing guard for children and adults alike. Being one with the stupid public.

 

“God dammit, you get drunk once and it’s like you’re public enemy number one,” Kris grumbles as he seats himself on the foldable chair, flapping the paper fan that Luhan had offhandedly tossed to him upon seeing Kris’s shocked face. Unfortunately, it seems that it is quickly becoming useless as he plucks at his t-shirt that begins to cling to his skin uncomfortably. Kris curls his lip in disgust.

 

“Uh, Mister?”

 

Kris shoots up, automatically going for his handy dandy stop sign and plastering on a wide, winning smile, though all he wanted to do was sulk pathetically and buy a ridiculous order of coffee. “I’m sorry. This way, right?”

 

The man that stands before him wears a gentle, almost shy, smile and chuckles quietly as he shakes his head in disagreement. Kris blinks down at him, noticing that his height is actually not too far off from his own in a nonchalant way, and wonders: what else could someone be talking to a crossing guard for? “No, actually,” the man admits and laughs after a few beats of silence. “I came to give this to you, since you seemed like you were melting in this heat. Here.”

 

The man brings his arms out from behind his back and offers him a panda shaped ice cream bar, like he’s presenting a huge surprise. In his head, Kris snorts in disdain. The thing was probably unsavory and just as unhealthy. He’s about to fire off a short, ‘No, thank you,’ but he notices a miniscule detail that he had missed out first glance.

 

Gumballs. There are gumballs for eyes. Instantaneously, Kris is thrown back into a childhood filled with park adventures and ice cream trucks. His attention completely zones in on the ice cream bar.

 

“I—“ He feels like he’s sweltering ten times more as he stares down at the damned frozen treat. “Um, no, that’s perfectly fine, thank you,” he laughs nervously, tugging at his collar. This will not break you, Kris Wu.  You are stronger than this. “You should save that for yourself.”

 

“No, I insist,” the man frowns as he shoves the ice cream bar into his hand, before pushing it towards his chest. Kris stiffens a little at the sudden contact. “I work at that café down there anyway; I can get ice cream anytime.” He waves a hand in the generic direction of ‘down there.’

 

It’s then that Kris finally takes in the appearance of the man, who is now smiling pleasantly at him. Black tousled hair, eyes that crinkle at the corners, bow-shaped lips, plain white t-shirt paired with skinny jeans, and a green apron tied around a slim waist with a name tag pinned on it that reads ‘Tao.’ Not bad, he thinks before shaking his head of such thoughts.

 

“Well, thank you Tao,” Kris gives a small, tight smile. “I really appreciate this.”

 

“No problem, Mister,” Tao tips his head forward in a respectful bow. He ruffles his hair distractedly with one hand as he glances backward over his shoulder with a tiny frown. “It looks like I’ve got to go back to my job now though, so stay cool and drink lots of water. Have a nice day!” With that, he flashes Kris another charming grin before sticking his hands in his pockets and striding back to his café.

 

Kris squints at the employee as he walks away. It’s not like he’s a charity case though, Kris thinks to himself as he sits back down heavily on his chair with a frown. Or does he really look that pathetic in this weather? Still, he can’t resist something that will cool him down in this weather, so he pulls off the wrapper around the ice cream bar and begins to nibble at the top.

 

“Not a charity case,” Kris says stubbornly to himself. Next time, he resolves, next time he won’t give into mildly attractive guys with a seemingly sweet personality to boot.

 

However, he can’t help but steal another glance at the retreating back of Tao, who opens the door for a customer with the same boyish smile he had given Kris earlier before entering himself. ‘XOXO Café’ reads the sign above the door.

 

Kris chews on the gumball with a thoughtful tilt of his head.

 

--

 

“So,” Luhan begins as Kris seats himself at his office chair, exhausted and thoroughly enjoying the heaven sent gift known as the A/C. “How’s being a crossing guard?”

 

“No one is walking the streets that often in this weather,” Kris sighs out as he lays himself over his desk with his hands dangling off the edge. He brings one hand up to play with his nameplate that reads ‘CEO Kris Wu.’ Another sigh. “Not that I mind. Makes it easier on me.”

 

Luhan raises his eyebrow before he sets down his clipboard and readjusts his tie habitually. “I see,” he says, clipped and smooth like usual, before taking a seat himself. “So…I’m assuming there are no complications?”

 

“There would be none if I didn’t have to do this stupid job in the first place.”

 

“Mr. Wu…”

 

“Everything is just fine then, Luhan. Is that the answer you wanted?” Kris sits up straight in his chair, rubbing his temples. “Nothing eventful happened…” But then he starts thinking back to his day, the horrible beginning of unwanted sweatiness and the longing as he stared at cars with A/C that was on full blast. He tilts his head as a sudden thought comes to him. “But I did meet a guy today.”

 

“A guy?” Luhan asks idly as he swipes through his phone for any news regarding Kris. So far, the newspapers have gotten a few good pictures of him leading citizens carefully across the street, a look of seriousness casted on his face. Headlines titled ‘CEO Kris Wu begins to clean up his act’ and ‘Model citizen’ are typed in large, bold lettering. He makes a small sound of approval.  A couple more weeks and this will totally blow over. “Did he give you any trouble?”

 

“No, nothing like that,” Kris waves his hand dismissively. “He was just a café worker or something and he gave me an ice cream bar.”

 

Luhan snorts. The image of his boss chomping down on a kiddie frozen treat makes him want to rethink his entire career. “And what did you do with it?”

 

“Eat it, of course!” At the look Luhan throws him, Kris raises his hands in self defense. “It had gumballs in it, Luhan, gumballs.” he says, eyebrows furrowing in a frustrated manner. “Besides, he wanted to give it to me so badly so I just accepted it,” he shrugs but he still looks as though he has more to say on the matter.

 

“Right…” Luhan pauses in his scrolling, stopping on the very picture he had conjured in his mind—Kris biting down on said ice cream bar with an almost childish innocence that makes him want to gag. He almost begins to take out a sheet of paper to write up a resignation letter before he notices what Kris is staring at.

 

Whilst chomping on the frozen treat, his gaze had been directed to his left, at the retreating back of a man donning an apron with messy, yet stylish, black hair.

 

A light bulb goes off in his head immediately as he catches sight of the familiar figure, eyes widening. “Perhaps you should befriend this man. It’ll look even better to the public, you know, being friends with a café worker and all. Shows that you aren’t all that of a pompous and snotty type of guy, although you really are,” he adds casually, slowly becoming amused, to which Kris scowls. “Maybe stop by XOXO Café and get them some customers as well, it’ll surely help with all this publicity you’re getting.”

 

Kris remains eerily quiet as he regards Luhan closely, as though accusing him of something not yet said. “How do you know what the café’s called?”

 

Luhan blinks rapidly a couple of times and looks up, coughing slightly and readjusting his glasses. “Huh? Oh, uh, it’s just—the café’s sign is in this picture,” he lies, to which Kris squints at him. “Anyway, make sure to do as I say and you’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

 

He continues to stare suspiciously at Luhan, who now wears a nervous half smile at the sudden attention. “Are you alright?”

 

“Quite fine, Mr. Wu.”

 

Kris sniffs in acknowledgement, decidedly letting the topic go much to Luhan’s relief. The CEO returns to moping around and complaining about his community service hours which stand at a measly twelve out of the 504 hours needed. Three weeks of torture. Kris groans and drums a finger against his desk calendar dejectedly.

 

Luhan returns to his secretary duties which include the monotonous work of continuously fixing his tie unnecessarily, readjusting his glasses, and smoothing over his immaculate and ugly sweater vest. Kris rolls his eyes, wondering what’s got Luhan so worked up but ignores him in favor of staring out the window behind him.

 

The window covers a whole wall, which leaves Kris with a breath taking sight of the streets of Seoul at night below him. It’s an awe inspiring sight, and he lets his body go lax as he watches people go about their daily lives, the normality of it making him sleepy. However, it’s not long before his eyes slide to the street corner in which he covers hour after hour and buries his face in his arms once more in annoyance, the moment ruined.

 

“Well, Mr. Wu, I’m going to be off now. Doing—uh…filing,” Luhan suddenly says loudly as he stands up abruptly from his desk and gathering papers at random. Kris is broken out of his reverie as he watches Luhan throw everything into a messy pile before lifting it up. “I’ll be busy for the next…uh…three hours, sir; please don’t bother me until I’ve come back. Very important business,” his secretary informs him quite seriously.

 

“But it’s 10 at night and the filing cabinets are right over there and you never file…?”

 

“VERY IMPORANT BUSINESS!” Luhan practically screams again before hightailing out of the room.

 

Kris blinks twice before looking down at the stray papers that had fallen to the floor from Luhan’s rush. Tilting his head, he manages to make out random scratch pieces of paper: a page filled with doodles of a deer and a hamster, ‘Xiumin’ written with hearts around it (Kris scrunches his nose at that), random pickup lines, and other varying papers unrelated to the company. Some filing his secretary has been doing. Kris snorts and shakes his head, maneuvering out of his chair to pick up the papers and stacking them neatly onto Luhan’s desk before catching sight of another set of papers in pastel colors, sticking out from one of the drawers.

 

Wondering if they were some sort of marketing idea Luhan had forgotten to pitch, and using that as his excuse to intrude, he opens the drawer easily and pulls out the papers.

 

At the top of each paper, a picture of a café sits looking cheery and oddly homey. In front of the café, he sees a man with prominent cheeks and a rather happy smile, hands placed at his hips as he stares proudly into the camera. Beside him stands another man—taller and younger looking—holding up a peace sign with a blank look whilst holding a foldable menu in his other hand. However, the one thing that sticks out to him the most is the other man turned away from the camera, focusing on writing up the menu on a blackboard set to the side with chalk markers.

 

His eyes finally dart to the sign hanging, with a sense of foreboding, and reads ‘XOXO Café.’

 

Other details below entail the address, their phone number, business hours, more pictures of inside the café, some sort of discount for a limited amount of time, and a free meal after eating 12 times at the café, but Kris is only left to wonder why and how Luhan has this sort of thing in his drawer.

 

And why his eyes also linger on such a familiar looking back.

 

--

 

It’s his third day as a crossing guard, and Kris continues to sit upon his foldable chair with his shirt sticking to him like second skin with the same disgruntled expression. Literally, nothing interesting has happened so far and Kris is slowly becoming content with counting the cracks on the sidewalk.

 

His chin is placed in his palm and he huffs out another sigh as he looks dejectedly at his water bottle, which has been empty for quite some time now. He figures that if he stares long enough, it’ll refill itself automatically.

 

“I bet it gets boring, huh?”

 

Kris startles at the voice, and is about to jump out of his seat, before gentle laughter stopped him. “Relax; I’m just here to give you this.”

 

Kris’s eyes that had been looking at the person’s beaten up sneakers slowly travel up long, lean legs, a flour stained apron, bow-shaped lips, and into smiling eyes. “Hi there.”

 

He clears his throat, turning away. “Hello, uh, what brings you here?”

 

Tao smiles and s out a cold water bottle, along with a frozen treat—this time a dragon—with gumballs for eyes. “I’m thinking we should make this a daily thing,” he chuckles when he sees Kris’s eyes immediately dart to the ice cream bar. “You get ice cream and company, and I get to make a new friend, win-win situation!”

 

“Er…thank you again, Tao, but I shouldn’t accept a second time,” Kris replies as graciously as he can, even though he craves for the ice cream bar.

 

Tao regards him silently for a second before bending closer to him, as though sharing a secret. “I said daily thing, didn’t I?” he says quietly in a teasing tone, and Kris smells the mint on his breath and unconsciously breathes it in, all the while staring wide eyed at Tao.

 

“No, you really don’t have to—“ Kris tries again weakly, because his resolve is breaking down and mint and ice cream and smiles and what the hell is even going on, but Tao gently deposits the items into his hands.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, eyes crinkling and teeth showing once more. “It’s the least I could do.”

 

Before Kris can stop the man from leaving, he’s already turning around and heading back to the café with a certain spring to his step. Kris curls into himself protectively, huddling around the ice cream bar. No, he will not be won over by these charms.

 

The next day, Tao hands him a peach and another ice cream bar and asks Kris politely about how his day is going and what he’d like the next day. Kris, befuddled by the man’s friendliness, replies with a lame, “nothing much, I guess.”

 

Tao had crossed his arms and pouted at him without saying anything, and Kris had bit his lip at the slightly endearing sight. “Uh…I guess some yogurt?”

 

Instantly, Tao had smiled like he had just received the greatest news, and it almost rivaled the sun’s glare with its brightness. “Yogurt it is,” he said with a determined nod, giving him the dorkiest of thumbs up before waving and whistling his way back to the café.

 

Three more days pass like this easily, and Kris still hasn’t gotten used to Tao’s sunny optimism. He doesn’t understand how a guy could become so over the moon by the simple request of yogurt, or look like his whole life has been made when he receives a ‘thank you.’ But, honestly, he can’t help but grudgingly think that he appreciates Tao’s presence a lot more than he likes to think.

 

He appreciates how easy it is to talk to Tao, and how it’s almost second nature now to lift a hand in greeting whenever he spots the familiar green apron tied around a lithe waist, when before he could barely muster a glance at the guy. But that’s about as far as it goes, he tells himself sternly. As charming and nice of a guy he is, Kris doesn’t think Tao would like to stick around for a boring guy like him, who is the complete opposite of Tao. It’s just business, he tells himself. Two more weeks and he’d be living his life just as luxuriously as he had before. If not a little more dull. Kris frowns at himself at the thought.

 

By the end of the first week, Tao approaches him at the usual time of lunch with a croissant and another ice cream bar, accompanied by the same bright smile. A look at the man’s smile, and Kris hasn’t got the heart to turn down the ice cream anymore. “Hey, so, this time I figured you might be hungry for some actual food as well so—“

 

“Why do you do this?” Kris interrupts, staring down at his hands. He hears Tao falter in his steps as he walks up to him, and Kris looks up this time. “You get nothing from this…so why?”

 

Tao blinks at him once, a habit he’s come to realize in the past week, as though he’s daft in the head. “Friendship? Because you’re kinda cute?” he says teasingly and Kris feels the heat rush to his cheeks, but he refuses to look affected by the flirting and sets his lips in a tight line. “Seriously, I don’t want anything from this. I’m just happy to give.”

 

“Yeah, but why?” Kris drops the appearances, insistent on finding the answer. He stands up, towering over Tao who gazes back at him with no sign of backing down. He curls his hands into fists.

 

“Something tells me you aren’t used to receiving,” Tao says with honest eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “And why is that?”

 

“…You don’t even know my name.”

 

Tao smiles. “I know enough.”

 

It’s things like this—small things—that make Kris’s heart stutter a little, the way someone actually cares for him like this.

 

It’s something.

 

So Kris decides to take a chance.

 

 --

 

It’s about time to put Luhan’s advice into use, Kris thinks to himself as he sits perched on his seat with a look of false serenity, though the way he jitters his leg up and down gives away his state of nervousness. Just say hi and get a drink or something.

 

Kris sits at his usual seat on the street corner, observing other civilians passing by with a distant look, his mind obviously far from his crossing guard duties. Occasionally he stands up to lead a pedestrian across the street, but doesn’t bother to keep up the fake smile he’s plastered whenever on duty.

 

It’s been a week since Luhan’s advice, a week since he’s met Tao, and he can’t stop thinking about their encounters.

 

A part of him knows that it’s not just for the public at this point—it’s for himself. Because a tiny part of him is kind of—maybe—interested in the café worker. Just a teeny tiny bit.

 

In the midst of the bustling business world, Kris has never had the time or the patience to date or even consider the idea. Being one of the youngest entrepreneurs was a tough task, often taking away from his miserable social life (he doesn’t count all those formal parties he’s had to attend, because really, all people do there is boast about their companies), but he somehow managed. Before his personal wants and needs came the company, and with that, came responsibilities. Not that Kris hated the entire idea; it was his own goal to show his family and the world his potential in ways many would not expect from a college drop out. But it got a little lonely sometimes.

 

Sure, Kris is a little arrogant, and maybe a little snobby like Luhan so loves to preach like the Bible, but he had learned of the humble beginnings of starting a business. The work and effort put in, the sleepless nights, and he even remembers fondly of going to various investors to pitch his idea with barely a decent meal in his stomach and a fire burning in his eyes.

 

So what made him attracted to this man, who came from a completely different world from him? Perhaps it was the way he made Kris remember his roots—of nights staying late at some random café to think of a new idea for the market. Or maybe it was the way he looked at him, happy and content with going out of his way to give some stranger a frozen treat. Or maybe it’s because he was completely Kris’s type, no doubt about it, bright smiles and long legs really did him in dammit.

 

Pedestrians begin to give Kris strange looks whenever he leads them across the street automatically, continuously glancing back at the café building with a strange look on his face, eyes searching for a certain someone. Definitely. Definitely, he would try to muster up the courage and charisma and—

 

“S’cuse me, coming through…” A tower of coffee bean bags wavers as it moves through the crowd slowly. Accidentally, it bumps into a confused mother and child, and it attempts to bow by the looks of how it dips forward slightly in apology. “Oh jeez, I’m sorry ma’am! Sorry, sorry…coming through—whoa!”

 

Kris lets out a shout in surprise as the person behind the coffee bean bags bumps into him roughly. Tao jumps as well, the stack of coffee bean bags in his arms shaking with exertion. “Excuse me,” he calls out again apologetically, though he sounds much more out of breath. He cranes his neck around the stack and blinks in surprise when he sees Kris’s ruffled form. “Oh, hey!” he greets cheerfully despite him struggling. “Didn’t see you there. Sorry I couldn’t stop by and drop off something for you to drink, by the way,  errands—“ he hefts the sack of beans in his arms so as to prevent them from falling with a huff—“to run and all. Hope you weren’t too disappointed.”

 

He nods his head, conflicted between being amused and bewildered, smoothing down his hideous vest in an attempt at professionalism. “No, no, it’s okay,” Kris replies with a smile and clears his throat. “I can see you’re busy and what not…and I’m busy…giving back to the community and all and...” Seeing Tao’s arms tremble in an effort at keeping up a conversation and holding a ton of bags, Kris seizes his chance. He blurts out, before he can regret it, “Speaking of which, would you like some help with that?”

 

 “Oh, man, are you sure?” the café worker asks him tentatively, but it’s clear in his eyes that he needs help. Kris smiles again in agreement. “Thank you so much!”

 

“Of course,” Kris replies with a short laugh as he takes half of the stack, like the gentleman he is, and follows after Tao as he leads the way. Don’t this up, Kris. The coffee beans, however, are a lot heavier than Tao had let on, and especially with Kris, who has hardly exercised in months; his arms already begin to shake.  DON’T THIS UP, KRIS. Nevertheless, he bravely continues the conversation, fighting to keep the strain out of his voice. “S-so, how come you didn’t take a car?”

 

“I don’t have a car,” Tao says in an awfully cheerful tone, much to his confusion. “Don’t really have the time for it, and besides, I prefer walking around.”

 

Kris stares at Tao over the stack, befuddled. Who wouldn’t want a car? A symbol of status in society and a rather convenient form of transportation. Kris lovingly thinks of his own Mercedes Benz sitting in his garage all alone. He feels a pang of sadness—his baby, which he hasn’t driven in the past week or so—and distantly wonders how Tao would react if he took him out for a ride at night. He shakes his head roughly.

 

“Right…” he says, slightly miffed at his thoughts, and watches as Tao taps the tip of his sneaker against the café door gently. Both of them wait as another café worker from inside opens the door for them.

 

“Tao!” the man squeaks, and Kris remembers his face from the café flyer. He squints at his name tag which reads Xiumin. “Haven’t I told you many times that you can borrow my car whenever you go out for errands?”

 

Judging by his almost authoritative tone, Kris takes a shot in the dark to say that this man is the owner. It doesn’t seem that hard to picture anyway when he’s standing there with his hands on his hips—similar to the café picture—and sternly lecturing Tao, who looks like a kicked puppy.

 

“Sorry, Min,” Tao pouts slightly as he sets the coffee bean bags down with a huff on the ground near the counter, and dejectedly gesturing for Kris to do the same. Kris drops the coffee beans on the floor as gently as he can, before straightening and feeling his arms tingle. Note to self: work out more. He rubs at them with what must have been a funny look, since Tao looks over at him with a small smile before turning back to Xiumin with the same kicked puppy look. “You know how bad I am with driving anyway.”

 

“Well, you still should have—“ Xiumin stops his nagging for a second when he glances over at Kris before doing a double take at a second look, his sentence ending abruptly and his jaw dropping open. The dusty light bulb in Kris’s brain clicks as his mind goes back to random scratch pieces of paper, of doodles and pick up lines, and one lone paper specifically with a name and hearts donned around it. Kris stares back at him with the same look of incredulousness—because this is who his secretary has been fawning over?—and Tao looks back and forth between them in confusion.

 

“Xiumin? What’s wrong?” Tao asks curiously, but before his question is answered, Minseok runs away into the café without a word. Tao juts his bottom lip out in a more noticeable pout. Looking back at Kris, he tilts his head. Cute guy oh god. “Do you guys know each other or something?”

 

“No?” he says, stupefied. “Well, I can’t say I’ve met him personally but I think I’ve…heard of him…”

 

“Hmm…” Tao muses, rubbing his chin and scrutinizing him in the dorky manner he’s become used to, and Kris stifles laughter that threatens to fall pass his lips. “Well, thank you again for helping me out with those bags early,” he says after a short pause, eyes beaming at him. He leans closer to Kris, even throwing an arm around his shoulders comfortably, and whispers conspiratorially, “Between you and me, I honestly cannot drive for the life of me. I like to think dying by heavy coffee beans is better than dying because you don’t know how to stick a key into ignition.”

 

Kris unexpectedly lets out actual laughter, and Tao reels back for a second, looking at him with wide eyes. “Who could’ve guessed—“ he falls short when he sees a man dashing out of the café, with a poor attempt at covering his face with a foldable menu. His familiarly tacky sweater vest flashing off towards the exit is already a dead giveaway and he narrows his eyes in recognition. Kris’s eyes dart to the other side of the café where Xiumin innocently begins to take orders of other customers. Knowing already the long talk he’d be having with his secretary soon, he shakes his head. He looks back at Tao, who still has that curious look on his face.

 

There’s something going on right now, he thinks, and things are moving into place. The way Tao looks at him is unmistakable and the way he’s feeling is unmistakable. So he takes a deep breath and says, “I’m Yifan.”

 

What made him blurt out his real name, Kris himself isn’t sure, but he figures he should keep Tao out in the dark of his actual career. Surrounded by people who cater to his every will, he finds it refreshing that Tao isn’t like that—just a genuinely nice guy who wants to help people. As much as he wants to boast about being a young CEO, and maybe even impressing Tao, Kris holds himself back.

 

Tao blinks and Kris suddenly kind of wishes that Tao would stop doing that, like he’s trying to figure him out. The café shop worker breaks into another one of his grins, though more subdued and shy in nature, and chuckles quietly. “Nice to meet you then Yifan,” he sticks a hand out. “I’m Zitao, or uh, just Tao,” he adds, sheepishly gesturing to his nametag. “Zitao is kinda hard to say, so I’m told.”

 

Really, he’s just supposed to be here for looks. Not for anything personal. Nothing like that at all. Business comes first, after all. These words swirl in his head, but in the moment however, he lets himself show a small, genuine smile. The tips of Tao’s reddening ears go unnoticed by Kris, for he simply keeps smiling pleasantly at the café worker.

 

“So does this mean you’re Chinese too?”

 

Zitao looks taken aback. “You…You’re Chinese too? I thought it was just a coincidence, honestly.”

 

“Born and raised in Guangzhou,” Kris says proudly, and without even knowing it, both of them find themselves settling at a nearby table. “How about you?”

 

Slipping into his mother language is as easy as breathing, and Zitao brightens at the lilting tones of it. “Qingdao!” he says excitedly back, hands clutching at the sides of his chair as he leans forward intrigued. Yifan chuckles at the sight, imagining puppy ears perked up in excitement and a wagging tail to match. “So how’d you find yourself in South Korea then, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 

No way, in any other circumstances, would he have opened up so easily. Yifan had been taught to keep his personal stories and secrets guarded, to not let anyone use it to his advantage. Not even Luhan understood the full story of himself, only knowing that he had created his text messaging company in an effort to have others fluidly contact one another from different places of the world.

 

But the real reason is that it pained him to be away from his mother, the only one actually supporting him with all the love a mother could possibly possess, and the only one who mattered the most to him while he was sent to South Korea in hopes that he would ‘do something better with his life.’

 

All the secrets and feelings he’d been keeping bottled up laid itself on the tip of his tongue, threatening to burst out without permission. The look on Zitao’s face was so welcoming, so open, and Kris felt the slightest bit of envy and another feeling beginning to blossom. As though sensing his thoughts, Zitao smiles. Not the kind that made the sun seem dim, or none of the charming ones that had his heart skipping a beat unexpectedly, but rather, one that was small and attentive. A rare smile, inviting Kris to speak his mind for hours on end. Patient and intuitive in its own essence. So Kris allows himself this bit of feeling, this feeling that someone cared for him despite his obvious arrogant personality at front. When, really, he was just as bit as lost as anyone else.

 

Still, he hesitates. “…I’m not sure you’d like to hear about that. It’s…kind of long and boring.”

 

“Well, I’ve got time,” is Zitao’s response as his eyes crinkle into crescents, like Yifan is the most important thing in the world at this time and moment, and it does stupid things to his heart.

 

So Yifan takes a chance, to follow his heart rather than his logical side.

 

“When I was in college, I wanted to be a basketball player. Despite being in a prestigious university in China, I couldn’t find it in myself to be what my father wanted me to be.” He casts a tentative look at Tao. “I can stop here.”

 

Tao looks at him incredulously. “You barely started!”

 

Yifan laughs nervously, scratching behind his ear. “Well, I figure it kind of sounds like those stereotypical dramas and uh—“

 

Tao instantly captures Yifan’s other hand in a firm grip, looking at him seriously. “Don’t you dare stop.”

 

He gulps, and registers the warmth of Tao’s hands before he retracts it, looking all sorts of determined. “I’m not here to judge you, Yifan. It’s good to open up to others, rather than keeping it bottled up,” he says knowingly. “But I won’t force you.”

 

“I just…you know…don’t really…open up to people like this.” The admission is not a surprise to both of them, but Tao smiles gently again. “I do want to talk about this…with you.”

 

“Take all the time you need.”

 

And so out came Kris’s rising story of being a CEO, with a little tweaks, seeing as Tao didn’t seem to know about his real career. So he told he the story of how he was kicked out from the house by his father, who shipped him off to Korea in hopes he would get his mind off of the courts. Being away from his mother, the one who had supported him through and through but didn’t have the power to stand up to his father, had caused him to miss her so dearly that he came up with an idea. The idea of long distance relationships, romantic and filial alike, being crushed by a single tap of a button was instantaneous. But of course, there were many other text messaging companies out there, with the same idea as his.

 

He had come up with the idea of throwing in adorable stickers, appealing to teenagers quite thoroughly. From there, the ideas were endless. Voice messages, video calling, everything was available and up to date with the latest technology, and Kris was proud of what he had become and so was his mother he so missed.

 

“That’s amazing,” Tao whistles, leaning back with an admiring expression. “Though, you make it sound like you own the company,” he laughs, but there’s a certain look in his eyes when he watches Yifan carefully.

 

“No, I, uh, I’m just an employee,” he says with one of his professional, closed off smiles out of habit. Tao regards him with a frown, folding his arms.

 

“Sometimes I don’t understand why you do that,” Tao says honestly, raising a finger to point at him almost accusingly.

 

“Do what?”

 

“Open up to me, give me those rare moments, before you shut me off,” the café worker sighs, leaning his head back and exposing his neck. Yifan eyes it and admires the delicate slenderness of it, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he talks. “You’re leaving me high and dry, Yifan.” He laughs and Yifan feels a twist in his stomach.

 

He bites his bottom lip.

 

Zitao leans back up, and his eyes look just as determined as before as his own lips twist into an unseen, boyish smirk. “I’ll figure it out,” he declares. “One day, of course.” Yifan lets out a disbelieving choke, and Tao looks back at him, straight in the eyes.

 

His bow-shaped lips tremble into a smile, before bursting into light giggles, which turns into loud laughter.  It takes a moment for Yifan to realize that Zitao is laughing at himself; by the way he covers his face with both of his hands in embarrassment. Yifan watches him, eyes wide, before he can’t help but join in, chuckling at the sight. What had encouraged the moment, they both don’t know, but there’s something in the way that they glance at each other between laughing fits that makes Yifan wonder.

 

“Tao!” they both hear Xiumin’s voice call out. They turn to see the red head with his signature pose, hands on his hips, and a stern look on his face. “Back to work, lover boy!”

 

Tao breathes out another shuddering laugh, and shakes his head amused. “Maybe I’ll tell you my own life story next,” he winks before standing up. “See you later, Yifan?”

 

It’s a question that doesn’t even need to be question. Without even needing to think about it, Yifan smiles again, matching Zitao’s own bright and sunny smile. “Of course.”

 

They both stand up at the same time and Zitao brings him into an unexpected hug that could be considered friendly, if not for the way he lingers a little longer, pressing gentle fingers into his back. “Thanks for opening up to me, Yifan, even though I’m just a random stranger, really,” he says quietly. Yifan wraps his own arms around Zitao, squeezing the man in his arms for a brief second before they move away. The scent of vanilla and flour sits in his nose and he’s sure it would stay for a while. 

 

“Don’t even worry about it,” Yifan sighs, feeling way too at peace with this. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

Zitao smiles, eyes crinkling once more, as he waves at Yifan.

 

As Yifan walks out the coffee shop, heart thudding in his chest, he thinks about how well Zitao fits in his arms, and the scent that had become familiar as of recently. His mind goes back to his previous thought, and he wonders again.

 

He wonders if this could work.

 

--

 

It’s the half way point of two weeks, and Kris is at a limbo between relief and confliction.

 

On one hand, he’d be going back to living his life lavishly soon, spending his days in his chic office with the A/C on blast and all thoughts of ever standing on the street corner holding a stop sign in a hideous vest gone from his mind. He’d be back into the business world, coming up with ideas to top other company’s on every aspect.

 

On the other hand, he’d be leaving behind the memories he’s created with the man behind the counter at the café.

 

Ever since he’d come to terms with his feelings at the realization that he likes Zitao, he’d been visiting the café more times than usual. And, really, it was a win-win situation. XOXO Café garnered even more attention from the infamous CEO stopping by frequently (Luhan had been beside himself with joy at the news, though turning stupidly jealous at the thought of more people seeing Xiumin) and Kris got to see Zitao everyday.

 

It was a routine they’d set up. Before his shift would start, he would go to Zitao first. He’d step through the doors of the café, breathing in the coffee scented air with a pleased smile. Zitao would already be at the counter, looking refreshed and ready for the start of a new day as he swiped it down meticulously. He’d turn to him and offer a warm cup of coffee to start the day with an equally warm smile and a cheery ‘good morning!’ Kris would then grin before settling at the counter, the two of them chatting about anything and nothing.

 

Yifan had even started to get into close contact with the café worker, trailing his fingers unnecessarily over Zitao’s when he slid the drink over the counter (to which he would try to play it off by telling a cheesy joke, but that did nothing to hide his blush, and Kris would hide his victorious smirk by taking a sip of the wonderfully made coffee), reaching over to ruffle his hair affectionately whenever he said or did something terribly endearing, and even giving him lingering hugs at the end of his visits just for the hell of it.

 

His openly displays of affections even caused one worker at the café (Sehun, he had learned, and remembered him as the blank looking male in the café picture) to bluntly ask whether or not they were dating. Zitao, of course, had reacted adorably by blushing madly and pretending to kick at Sehun’s legs, yelling at him for being such a brat. When Sehun had his fill of teasing Zitao, he turned to Yifan with the same question. Yifan had raised his eyebrows and grinned wide, as though to say ‘what do you think?’, to which Zitao began to smack at his shoulder weakly.

 

Later, when that was all said and done, he’d leave to go to his wonderful crossing guard duties. Whilst guiding people across the street and being as good of a samaritan that he can be, he finds himself looking down at his watch. Of course, half way into it, Zitao would come out with the usual random snack and ice cream bar, before the two would engage into another conversation like ‘do penguins have knees?’ or ‘what was Guangzhou like?’

 

Maybe I can still sneak some time in to visit Zitao when I get back into the office, he muses deeply. But then again, what are the chances Luhan will let me?  I’ve got a lot of catching up to do…

 

Before Kris can sink further into his thoughts, an unknowingly goofy smile still in place, he’s interrupted by the loud chatter of children exiting the nearby daycare center and wandering down the sidewalk with all endearing qualities children are supposed to have. Their caretakers linger more in the back, busy with keeping the more rambunctious children in check. Kris shakes his head clear of the thoughts and stands up, already pressing the cross walk button beforehand.

 

“Joonmyun, watch out for Baek!” the man with a sunshine yellow apron yelps as he brings a wandering child back into the group, who points at a street vendor and claps excitedly. He frantically herds the crowd of babbling children into the right direction, although one child tends to run around as though he’d never seen the outside world in ages. “Chanyeol, would you go hold hands with Baekhyun, please?”

 

“Kyungsoo, why did I agree to this?!” the other worker with a similar apron wails helplessly as he holds hands with one child, attempting to grab another. “You—Jongdae!!”

 

A mischievous child dashes forward down the sidewalk, escaping the caretaker with ease and cackling happily. Kris blinks as the child bumps into his lumbering form, staggering backward and looking up at him with wide eyes. In return, he stares back unamused with his eyebrows drawn together, to which the child promptly screams loudly before running the other way.

 

“Whoa!” he hears a surprised shout and turns to see Zitao unexpectedly standing in front of the kid, who also bumps into the café worker and bawls his eyes out. He looks to Kris with confusion in his eyes, to which Kris shrugs helplessly.

 

“Aw, don’t cry,” Zitao coos as he squats down to gently pull away the hands covering his teary eyes. He smoothes back the child’s bangs comfortingly and smiles. Immediately the kid quiets down, though the quivering pout is still there. “Yifan isn’t a bad guy…kind of!” Yifan chokes at the statement and squawks indignantly, to which Zitao slaps his leg jokingly. “He’s just a very helpful crossing guard. A gentle giant you shouldn’t really be afraid of, little man.”

 

“Jongdae…” the man with round eyes sternly says as he steps forward to squat beside Zitao, inspecting for any injuries with a hawk eye. Ztiao bites his lip as Jongdae makes a fuss, refusing to stand still for the worker—Do Kyungsoo, reads his name tag. “Apologize right now, young man! You shouldn’t be running off like that and making us worry, are you crazy?!”

 

“But Kyungsooooooo,” the child whines, slouching and dangling his arms out in front of him, and Yifan starts to feel a little bit bad at the scolding he’s getting. “I didn’t mean to!”

 

“No buts,” Kyungsoo says sharply, before jerking his chin towards Tao. The café worker waves his hands around wildly, automatically stating that it was okay but Kyungsoo furiously says that he should be thanked and apologized to.  “And what did I say about calling me about my first name?” Sternly, he guides Jongdae’s shoulders so that he faces Tao. “Apologize.”

 

Jongdae immediately turns to the other caretaker, who had been watching the whole ordeal in a shocked state. Yifan barely stifles a laugh at the ridiculous situation, and Tao suddenly throws a look at him that is equal parts (adorably) helpless and confused. “Do I have to, Joonmyun?”

 

The other caretaker hesitates as he sees the look on the kid’s face and turns to Kyungsoo. Both child and adult look to the other with same expressions, and the shorter male looks completely off guard by the display of cuteness. “Kyung—“

 

“It’s no big deal!” Tao shouts again, hands flailing again wildly. Yifan watches on amusedly. “Seriously, I was just doing what any one else would’ve done!” He turns to Kris unexpectedly, puppy eyes on blast. “Right, Yifan?!”

 

“Uh…” Suddenly, all eyes are on him and Yifan nods slowly. “Right.”

 

“Well, nonetheless, thank you very much,” Kyungsoo informs him quite seriously and Tao begins to look even more flustered. Yifan suppresses a smile at the sight. The guy he’s come to think of as a confident and charming man turning flustered and shy under the sight of authority has him pressing a fist to his lips to prevent himself from laughing. Zitao shoots him another look and this time Yifan can’t help the snort that escapes him. Kyungsoo eyes them before he turns to the group of kids and herds them towards the crosswalk, keeping a hand on Jongdae. “Hurry along, kids!”

 

Joonmyun also turns to bow at them, akin to one thousand times, before following after the group hurriedly. Tao looks over at Yifan, blush still burning bright on his face, gesturing him forward. “After you,” he says in an attempt to regain his confidence and Yifan smirks as he picks up his stop sign. He tries to ignore the fact that Tao chooses to stick beside him, fiddling with his fingers and rubbing the back of his neck in a way that makes him want to coo.

 

“Are you a super hero, Mister?”

 

Yifan blinks, looking away from the man beside him, and looks down to find a kid with big ears and curly hair walking beside him, eyes wide with curiosity. “What?” he asks with a scrunched brow. The kid backs away slightly, intimidated.

 

Despite a blush still across his face and neck, Tao breaks out into light laughter and leans over Yifan’s arm to ruffle the kid’s hair. Yifan almost trips over his feet. “Of course he is!” Tao boasts jokingly as he presses up even closer to Yifan’s side and points at his face with a teasing smile, eager for someone else to face embarrassment. “Ordinary people can be super heroes too, you know.”

 

Yifan stares down at Tao, wondering how attractive can this guy get, really, he’s already hooked on such cute laughs and appearances but this is down right outrageous the way Tao is. Good with kids, good with coffee, good with him.

 

“Does that make you his sidekick?” the kid asks with wide eyes. “I’ve seen it in my comic books—all superheroes have sidekicks!”

 

Tao splutters out another laugh, one that Yifan joins this time.

 

Another kid hangs back from the group after hearing Tao’s sudden laughter, one with puppy-like eyes and a pout. “Stupid Chanyeol!” he scolds immediately, whacking his shoulder. “This guy is obviously a knight in shining armor!”

 

Tao stands up straight, stiffening with another onslaught of embarrassment and Kris laughs at the way Tao bites his lip.

 

“Looks like you can’t catch a break,” he whispers in Zitao’s ear and Zitao goes even redder, scowling at him adorably. He places a hand on the small of Zitao’s back and continues to guide him across the street with a smug smile.

 

“Whaaaat,” Chanyeol complains as he turns to the other kid. “That doesn’t make sense, Baek! He doesn’t have armor!”

 

“Of course it makes sense! Look, he’s even holding a sign to warn everyone else to keep away from his princess!” Baek proclaims as he points furiously back in forth between the stop sign, a blushing Tao, and a heavily amused Yifan.

 

“That’s not—!” Ziao finally begins, desperately waving a hand in an attempt to stop the attack of more words from the two kids but Yifan just smiles down at him charmingly and is pleased to see Tao tuck into himself, mumbling into his collarbone with his face still incredibly red.

“Come along now, princess,” Yifan chides and Tao deflates in defeat, groaning as he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

 

--

“So—let me get this straight—you’re interested in Taozi…I mean Tao?”

 

“Taozi?”

 

“Yes, well, it’s a nickname Xiumin and I came up with.”

 

“Oh, right, we still have much to talk about that.”

 

“Mr. Wu, sir, my love life is the least of your concerns right now. Not when you’re being, dare I say it sir, a pansy.”

 

“You take that back.”

 

“This is coming from the man who has been fawning—“

 

“I haven’t been fawning—“

 

“—over Tao for how long? And you still haven’t even gotten his number? I even have his number!”

 

“What?!”

 

“Well, when your boyfriend works at a café you tend to get to know the other employees, don’t you think?”
 

“What the hell—give me his number—“

 

“Think about it, sir, if you suddenly call or text his number, he’ll ask, ‘who is this?’ and you’ll say, ‘oh, your creepy boyfriend but not quite yet boyfriend’ and he’ll say, ‘where did you get my number?’ and then what will you say?”

 

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

 

 “Believe it, sir.”

 

“This is ridiculous!”

 

“Next time you see him, safe us all the trouble and ask him for his number!”

 

With that, Luhan leaves the office with a huff and Yifan watches him go with a large scowl on his face, looking like a petulant child. However, a few minutes, he deems it safe and stands up to go riffling through Luhan’s desk, in search of those pick up lines.

 

--

 

The next time he sees Tao, he’s sweaty and hot.

 

Oh, this is bad, Yifan thinks to himself as he attempts to pick up his jaw from the ground. This is bad, bad, bad.

 

“Hey there Yifan,” Tao gasps out as he punches the button for the little walkman to show up on the other side of the street. Yifan nods stiffly in a greeting, and Zitao looks at him with an almost knowing smile. He clears his throat, standing up quickly with his stop sign at the ready; before Zitao waves him off. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just gonna go by really quickly anyway.”

 

Ask him for his number!

 

“Oh…” Yifan falters but steps up next to Tao anyway. He can’t help but be extremely attracted to the way the sweat drips down the side of Zitao’s face, and the way his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath. As in, ‘I think I might want to do things to you that I should not be thinking about in public’ extremely attracted way. “It’s still kind of my job though, so...” He looks away awkwardly, mind scrambling for a topic. “Going for a jog?”

 

“Mm,” Tao hums as he takes a swig of the water bottle in his hand and even pours a bit of it on himself, and Yifan finds it a little harder to breathe. Of all the days, he wears a white shirt. He knows what he’s doing to me, he’s gotta know god dammit. “Sehun says I need to beat his time at the gym or else I owe him a week of boba,” he grimaces. “Such a brat, that one.”

 

“Yeah haha brat yeah…” Yifan reiterates nervously and Zitao grins wide, throwing his head back to laugh. He swallows as his fingers twitch where he holds the stop sign. Ask for his number god dammit! Yifan steels himself, breathing out a sigh, and turns to look at Zitao and instantly regrets it.

 

Tanned skin, slick from water and sweat, with pretty lips parted slightly, before biting down in an effort to control his breath. Tao wipes off the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand, squinting as the sun glares heavily. Yifan thinks, in a totally offhand sort of way, that he could be the one to make Tao sweat by—

 

Yifan turns away quickly. “UM, SO,” he says loudly, catching the attention of Tao who had idly been bouncing on the tips of his toes to warm up. Ask him, ask him! “How about this…uh…weather?”

 

What the .

 

“This weather?” Zitao looks up at the sky briefly and huffs out a breath in amusement, lips curling up sweetly. Lord have mercy on my soul. “Hot.”

 

Yeah just like you—

 

“Of course, but you know, I hear that next week it’s supposed to cool down. At least to the 80’s or so, thankfully,” Yifan blabbers, waving a hand around animatedly. Zitao smiles again, amused by his antics. “What was the highest this week again? Around mid-90’s was it? Humidity has really been a pain lately. Thankfully, there might be cloud coverage next week but I dunno, as you can see, I’m not a weatherman. I’m not even sure what cloud coverage is, but I think it’s good…I think, but, uh, you know, as long as it’s cold hahaha….By the way do you think I could get your number?”

 

Kris turns to hear Tao’s response after his rapid fire small talk, but is thoroughly surprised when he sees the man who has set out to destruct Kris in ways he didn’t even know possible, gone from his side. He blinks in confusion, but when he up, he sees that Tao is jogging in place across the street and waving at him.

 

“Pay attention next time!” Kris reads from his lips. The barista grins cheekily at him before jogging off with another wave.

 

Kris nearly bangs his head against the street sign in frustration.  He can almost see Luhan sneering at him, shaking his head disdainfully. Pansy.

 

~~

 

A few days later, hitting near the end of Yifan’s job as a crossing guard, he learns that he will come to miss these easy going mornings. He’ll miss taking the walk in the morning to the café, and he’ll miss seeing Zitao in general. He only hopes that Luhan will have mercy and let him out of his office once in a while when he’s back in office.

 

In the two weeks and a half he’s known Zitao, he’s become undoubtedly and explicitly smitten with Zitao. From the way he has such a spontaneous way of going about life, to the way he smiles so openly and warmly at everybody—Yifan knows he’s going to miss the barista more than life at the office itself. He’s going to miss their hugs after talking, the sneaky glances they both know aren’t that sneaky, the stolen touches—everything.

 

So Yifan takes it upon himself to man up. Today is the day. Today is the day—

 

The day he’ll find out Zitao’s number.

 

“Baby steps,” Luhan had sighed when Yifan had reiterated his thoughts out loud. “It’s a process.”

 

Of course, Yifan doesn’t have the courage to ask Zitao out just yet. There’s still a ton of things he’d like to do before he actually works up the confidence, seeing as finishing up his community service hours is at the top of his mind right now. But Yifan figures the time will come soon. Very soon.

 

And so here Yifan is, watching the object of affections make a specific pastry for him, with all the qualities a cute guy like Zitao has.

 

Everything about Huang Zitao at the moment is so unbearably adorable that Kris can only muffle his coos with his palm as he leans against the table. Tao is being unexpectedly cute—so cute that he has half the mind to kiss him senseless just to teach him a lesson.

 

As Zitao works in the back, his tongue peeks out from the corner of his bow-shaped lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. His inky black hair is swept away messily with flour dusting his cheeks. Whenever he feels as though he’s messed up, he moans in despair, pressing his forehead against his forearm dramatically, with Xiumin calling out, “You’re doing fine, stop being so picky!” and Sehun remarking, “Hyung, that’s pretty ty.”

 

“Whatever you make is perfect you know,” Yifan hollers out, which is of course followed by some retching noises from both Xiumin and Sehun. He laughs when he hears Zitao bang his head on the counter he had been kneeling in front. He gets up from his table to stroll over to the open window separating the front counter and the kitchen, peering in and watching amusedly as Zitao rolls on the ground like a child. “Something tells me you aren’t used to receiving,” he teases, throwing back the words Zitao had said to him so long ago.

 

Zitao stops his rolling, his flour covered hands still covering his forehead, and glares petulantly at Yifan with teary eyes. Yifan laughs and walks around into the kitchen, helping Zitao up and brushing his back off (no, of course he did not just take the chance to brush his hand along the curve of his , no).

 

“See, and here I was, about to let you the frosting off the spatula,” Zitao shakes his head disdainfully. “What a young fool I was.”

 

“You’re the same fool now,” Yifan comments as he pokes Zitao in the forehead. Zitao makes to bite at his finger and Yifan laughs quietly at his antics.

 

“No, I’ve changed Yifan,” Zitao insists as he watches Yifan fold his arms across his chest and lean against one of the counters, an eyebrow raised. “I was young and immature five seconds ago. I definitely know better now.”

 

“Not like you knew much before,” Yifan retorts with a smirk and Zitao splutters out a disbelieving laugh.

 

“And I was going to show you mercy,” Zitao points the frosting covered spatula at Yifan accusingly. “You’re the fool this time Yifan. Now you must endure me the frosting, you fool.”

 

Yifan has nothing to say to that, especially when Zitao actually begins to the spatula with that tongue of his. He doesn’t even appear to know what he’s doing, too caught up to shove his self proclaimed in Yifan’s face to even think about what he’s doing to Yifan.

 

Don’t even look, he advises himself, instead looking around the immaculate kitchen. Don’t you even think about it.

 

Easier said than done, really. His eyes continually dart to Zitao’s face and lips. The café worker is too busy to notice, instead moving his body to the beat of some pop song going off on the radio whilst that god damn lucky spatula. The way he curls his tongue around the spatula, giving it kittenish delicately—

 

“You know, you’ve been giving me a lot of sweets lately,” he comments after a while of watching Zitao move around the kitchen with what he’s sure is caught between a love sick smile and a hot gaze. “Is this apart of some master plan? Fatten me up and then feed me to who knows what?”

 

Zitao looks over his shoulder, like he’s been caught red handed. “How’d you know?” he asks, mock horrified, and Yifan laughs again.

 

“So what’s the real reason, though?” Yifan presses as he tilts his head up at Zitao. “I don’t usually get fed this well unless it’s my mother.”

 

Zitao bends over to push the tray of pastries into the oven (Yifan averts his eyes again) and hefts himself up on the counter, dangling his legs as he tosses the spatula into the sink. “Because I think pastries are good for everyone?” he tries and Yifan fixes him with another look. Tao grins. “Alright, maybe because I think you’re sweet?”

 

Although there’s a teasing tone in his voice, his eyes and smile are nothing but warm and genuine and Yifan finds himself melting all over again. Yifan finds himself returning the stupidly cute grin Tao is giving him. “Cheesy, but I’ll take it.”

 

Zitao props his elbows against his knees and regards Yifan carefully, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Yifan gazes back at him, curious at the almost tender look that had fallen on Tao’s face. “What? Is there some other unspeakable thing that I’ve done horribly wrong?” he jokes, but he feels his throat begin to dry up.

 

“No I’m just…” Zitao sighs, leaning back again as he kicks his feet gently against the counter. “Admiring your face?” he admits helplessly before chuckling hoarsely and covering his face with the back of his hand. Yifan sees the unmistakable blush that he’s come to know and love rise from Zitao’s neck. “What…Well I guess…What I’m trying to say is—“

 

Ding!

 

Immediately, Tao hops off the counter in a hurry to the oven. “Oh, great!” he says a little too enthusiastically, the blush on his face still too prominent to pass off as natural. “The macaroons are ready!” He glances back at Yifan over his shoulder. “What? You just gonna sit there and not see my awesome macaroon skills?”

 

It takes a moment for Yifan to catch his breath again, briefly pressing a hand against his chest in an attempt to still it, as he continues to look over Zitao. The café worker chatters on, like he hadn’t just been about to admit something that may have very well been important, though his red ears give away his façade of ease. Yifan breathes out a sigh, eyes turning fond before shaking his head slowly.

 

“Alright, I’ll be the judge of that,” Yifan says, shooting the man a crooked grin. He steps beside Zitao and can’t help but think that’d he like to make this a regular thing—an easy going atmosphere with both of them laughing quietly and stealing glances at each other.

 

Here, he doesn’t have to be Kris Wu the young CEO, the man who was tight and coordinated with no room for fun. Here he can just be Yifan, a giant of a man with gangly limbs who hardly knew what he was doing in life and would like to figure it out with the man he’s fallen in love with—the café worker with boyish charms and sweet smiles and pastries to match.

 

“Here, you try now,” Zitao says with a smile, handing over the piping bag and a macaroon shell to Yifan who looks lost. He laughs. “It’s easy, don’t worry. You just have to pipe it in a circle—like this.” He places those ever so warm hands over Yifan’s, guiding his movement and applying pressure as an indication to squeeze out the icing. However, Yifan’s focus is no longer on the delicate macaroons, but instead on Zitao, whose are bright with happiness and passion for his work.

 

What would it be like to brush his lips over Zitao’s? Would they taste as sweet as the pastries he makes? Or would they taste like the coffee he makes? Would they still taste of the mint he had smelled on his breath the other day?

 

Zitao is such a mix of smells and sights that it makes Yifan’s heart sigh in content.

 

“Hey, pay attention, Yifan!” Zitao’s bright laughter brings him back to reality, his shoulder bumping into his gently. “Or are you admiring my, uh, devilishly handsome looks?”

 

Yifan’s smile is slow in amusement, eyes twinkling in the same affection reflected in Tao’s. “Whose been feeding you these lies, huh?”

 

Zitao pulls back, and Yifan misses the warmth, and begins to tick off names on his fingers with his eyes closed in thought. “Xiumin, Sehun, Kai, Victoria, Fei…” he cracks an eye open. “Must I go on?”

 

“Lies and slander,” Yifan tells him, grinning widely at Zitao’s brilliant laugh, and ruffling Zitao’s hair and pushing his bangs away from his face. They both smile at each other, teeth and gums and all, and Yifan’s mind goes back to his initial motivation today.

 

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god, now here goes Yifan to being the most awkward hooha in the world.

 

“Hey, so, Zitao…” Yifan says lowly, settling his arm around the man’s shoulders as he watches him gently place the other macaroon shell on top of the frosting set already. He looks proud of himself when he rotates the pastel blue macaroon in his hand.

 

“I did a fine job, didn’t I?” Zitao remarks as he smiles at the dainty little creation. He turns to look at Yifan and looks as though he’s going to say something more, but stops short when he sees the distance between them. Yifan watches as Zitao slowly goes pink again, floundering for words with his lips looking as though they were about to mouth words but there was no voice behind them.

 

It’s only natural that his eyes dart down to Zitao’s lips, of course, and he lets it happen naturally. He tightens his arm around Zitao’s slim shoulders, no longer passing as friendly now, and leans forward slightly before—

 

--a macaroon is stuffed into his mouth.

 

“You must be hungry!” Zitao laughs a bit too hysterically, and pulls away from Yifan’s half embrace.

 

“Mmrph,” Yifan tries to say. Crumbs fly past his lips and he claps a hand over his mouth. “Mm naw hungrmph!”

 

“Oh, of course you’re hungry,” the café worker responds sternly as he presses the pads of his fingers on Yifan’s jaw. “Chew.”

 

Yifan can only helplessly chew with the look Zitao is giving him and the way he has one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his cheek, before moving the press against his lips.

 

When Zitao deems the macaroon fully eaten, he nods his head in satisfaction. “Good boy,” he coos, fluttering his fingers under Yifan’s chin and Yifan scowls—not any less pink than Zitao is. Zitao dutifully brushes his fingers against Yifan’s lips, wiping off any excessive crumbs with a concentrated look. But instead of allowing Tao’s hand to move away, he captures it with his own.

 

Tao’s eyes widen in surprise. “Yifan?”

 

“I…” Like you! “Uh…well, I…” Adore you, god dammit. “I wanted to know the café’s phone number so I can mass order macaroons for the people at my company!” he blurts out in one breath and Zitao actually jerks back in surprise. Yifan shuts his eyes tightly, mouth coming into a grimace. Good job you idiot!

 

“Well why would you need the café’s number when you can have mine?”

 

HEY NOW.

 

 Yifan must have looked flabbergasted, because all Zitao did again was giggle at the look on his face. “Well, obviously, I’m a part of the café so it’s a win-win situation is it not?” he winks. “You get your macaroons, and I get to send you cute pictures of myself. Pretty sure that’s how this thing works.” He says sagely.

 

Yifan chokes out a laugh. Here they were, having a Moment not too long ago and Zitao is sprinkling his sunshine optimism around once again. Whatever ‘thing’ they have, Yifan does not want to let go of it so quickly.

 

He shakes his head, bringing a hand up to card his fingers through his hair with an affectionate and endeared look that must be blaringly obvious. “I’d love that.”

 

~~

 

True to his word, Zitao does send him cute pictures of himself, if not a bit sarcastically. He says it’s to spite Sehun. When Yifan calls him out on it, Zitao gravely shows a whole chain of text messages with pictures Sehun had sent him in the past week.

 

The captions range from ‘u hyung’ to ‘love me pls’ and a special photo with a pissed off Xiumin and Luhan in the background with Sehun covering his mouth in mock surprise: ‘minseok hyung is going 2 kill me bc I walked in on them making out o no hyung help’. Yifan deletes all of Sehun’s pictures silently and Zitao yelps in surprise when Yifan tosses his phone back to him. The only explanation Yifan offers him being a simple huff of jealousy he’s sure that Zitao might have picked up.

 

They text from morning to late at night, and Yifan takes an occasional picture of himself to send to Zitao when he’s at the crosswalk in an attempt to outshine Sehun. He usually gets the mischievous reply of ‘do your job right yifan and you might just be looking at more than a cute picture of me’. Although teasing, Yifan feels a pleasant drop in his stomach at the possibilities.

 

However, all good things must come to an end. Yifan takes a lingering look at a picture of Zitao he had sent in regards to Yifan’s complaining text of ‘its too god damn hot out here where is my ice cream’, with Zitao giving him a thumbs up and a completely sweet and unsympathetic smile, featuring Xiumin and Sehun in the background and a ‘Sorry, out of stock! <3’

 

He rubs a fond thumb over the eye bags he’s come to adore (“They’re NOT eye bags! They just look abnormally puffy.” “So they’re eye bags.” “…”) and the lips that he’s come to the conclusion that he could kiss them all day if he was so given the chance.

 

“Kris,” Luhan calls out from inside the police station and Yifan sighs as he stands up.

 

“Congrats, Mr. Wu,” Officer Yixing nods in approval when he finishes of the paperwork. He briefly shakes his hand in a firm grip once before moving back and gesturing to a document on the officer’s pristine desk. “Just sign on the highlighted parts and you’re officially free from community service.”

 

Kris nods back absently in reply, and Luhan thanks the officer profusely as he signs. “You have no idea how this has been so good for him,” Luhan praises adamantly. “It’s like he’s become a totally different person, he’s actually being nice—“

 

The young CEO quietly places his vest and worn stop sign on the officer’s desk before walking out of the station, leaving the chattering secretary behind. Three weeks have passed since he first had been assigned to his post at the street corner, and three weeks have passed since he first met Huang Zitao. Despite the mess that had gotten into doing community service, he can’t say that he completely regrets it. If anything, he is reverently thankful to his drunk self.

 

His feet lead him down the sidewalk, past an ice cream vender, and a daycare center, and before he knows it, he finds himself pushing open the door of XOXO Café.

 

Sehun looks up from his phone when the little bell above the door chimes, picking up a menu in preparation with an attempt of a smile. Yifan raises an eyebrow and Sehun sighs harshly before throwing it back on the counter when he sees who it is. “Tao’s out watering the plants in the back.” he says flatly, turning back to his phone.

 

Yifan inclines his head slightly in thanks, but Sehun only snorts and slumps back in his chair.

 

Xiumin comes bustling out of the kitchen, a plate of fresh cookies and muffins in hand, and clicks his tongue at the sight of Sehun. “Don’t mind him,” he says with a disdainful look. Sehun sticks his tongue out at him. “He’s just being a moody teenager because he’s not getting enough of ‘Tao hyung’.”

 

“Disgusting,” Sehun spits out.

 

Xiumin nods his head and says patronizingly, “I know, dear.”

 

Yifan shakes his head at their antics before heading out back, where the café’s garden—and Zitao’s pride and joy—flourishes wonderfully. There are hardly any customers on the patio when he steps out into the cool morning air, as the café had just opened up its doors. Tulips and baby breath amongst other gentle looking flowers thrive beautifully out here, but the most beautiful thing of all stands among them, watering them with a warm and attentive look in his eyes.

 

He doesn’t know if he opens his mouth to say anything or not, but Zitao turns to look in his direction anyway with a smile that grows wide, and Yifan can’t help but smile back just as lovingly.

 

“Well look whose here, all bright and early,” he greets with a little tilt to his head as he sets down the watering can and makes his way carefully over to Yifan, running a hand through his hair habitually. “Actually, I was just going to run down and see you.”

 

“What courageous act did I do in my past life to deserve a special delivery from Huang Zitao himself?” Yifan frantically asks eyes wide as grasps Zitao’s slender shoulders in his hands and leans forward questioningly. Zitao groans at his sarcasm and shoves him away lightheartedly.

 

“Yeah, well, I figured Wu Yifan would need a little morning call,” the barista chuckles as he gestures to inside the café. “I came up with a new blend the other day—Xiumin really liked it, Sehun hated it, so I figured you’d love it.”

 

It’s moments like these that Yifan adores the most. Where Zitao moves his hands animatedly to describe what he does and how he does it, but it’s the look in his eyes that make it ten times more adorable. It’s warm, determined, strong. The passion in his eyes is what attracts Yifan like a moth to a flame, and it reminds him of his pre-CEO self. He loves the idea of working hard for something, giving it your all, and Zitao is the absolute best at showing this.

 

When Zitao has it all said in done, with helpful little teasing remarks from Yifan occasionally, he clears his throat. “The thing is…you won’t see me there anymore.”

 

Tao tilts his head slightly. “Where? …The street corner?”

 

He nods his head again silently, settling on a nearby bench and patting the seat beside him. He’s more than little pleased, another excited jump acting up in his stomach, when Zitao’s thigh presses against his own.

 

“Yeah, I, uh,” he takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heartbeat at the look of concern in Zitao’s eyes. “I’m done with my community service hours.”

 

Zitao’s lips quirk up slightly. “Okay.”

 

Flustered, Yifan waves his hands rapidly. “Well—what I—what I mean is that…I’m actually a CEO. I know—I know—I lied to you but hear me out—I’m kinda known as Kris Wu and, uh, I was caught, uh, in an unfortunate situation and—“

 

“An unfortunate situation…you’re still doing that high and dry thing, Yifan,” Zitao laughs, shaking his head, and propping his chin up on his hand, elbow on his knee, as he leans forward. “But I have to admit, you being nervous is pretty cute.”

 

“That’s…that’s all you have to say?” Yifan questions as he jerks back in shock. “No, like, beating me up or anything…?”

 

“Well, I already knew about the part about you being all rich and famous,” Tao snorts, sporting jazz hands at the rich and famous part. “I guess I was just wondering why you were hanging around here.”

 

“You knew?!” Yifan squawks. At Zitao’s cheeky nod, Yifan slumps onto the bench in not a small amount of embarrassment. The sudden realization that Tao knew he was rich and famous, and treated him no differently than a friend, makes his heart pound harder than it ever has before. “Ajdgkjlfsdjfioensv???”

 

“Yes, Yifan,” Tao says with a small smirk as he pats his head. “I knew. When your employee’s boyfriend comes in every Friday after ‘filing’, you learn a thing or two,” Tao winks.

 

“Whoa…whoa…wait,” Yifan groans as he places his hands out in a surrendering motion. There were too many things zipping around in his head at the moment, his mind whirring at the speed of light. “Employee? Xiumin? Are you saying you own this place?”

 

“Of course,” Tao blinks. “Can you think of anyone else more fitting?”

 

“Oh my god,” Kris groans, digging the heel of his palms into his eyes. “I thought—Xiumin—I-I-I didn’t know any of this oh god…”

 

Warm hands take Yifan’s face and he finds Tao looking sternly at him. “Hey, don’t freak out,” he says, with that crooked, warm grin as Yifan slowly lowers his hands. “I guess I don’t act like a café owner all that well, huh?” He chuckles when Yifan can only nod dumbly and removes his hands to stick them in his apron pockets, looking around contentedly. “Ah…I remember when I first started. My mom and dad had kicked me out of the house, ‘cause I was kind of a rebellious teen. All ear piercings and tattoos.”

 

Tao rubs absently at his earlobe, which only contains simple black piercings, but Kris can see the multiple holes that he hadn’t noticed before adorning the barista’s ear. And although it’s a serious moment they’re having, Yifan can’t help but entertain the thought of the sight of inky black tattoos running up and down Zitao’s tan back, endless tiger stripes or maybe random scriptures and it makes him shiver slightly.

 

He plays it off as the cold air in the morning though at Zitao’s raised eyebrows. Nonetheless, the café worker—owner—scoots closer to him to press his warmth ever so closer. Yifan tries to hide the growing smile on his lips, but Zitao does nothing to make it any better.

 

“I asked Sehun if he wanted to help me out, seeing as we were both in a similar situation. And then Xiumin kinda tagged along. He’s like the mother hen of this place,” Tao picks up Yifan’s hand and plays with his longer fingers, smiling slightly. “Man, I don’t know what I’d do with any of them, honestly,” he admits, somewhat sheepishly before he looks seriously at Yifan. “But don’t tell them I ever said that though.”

 

Kris feels another stirring in his heart, watching Tao’s eyes mist over with memories and nostalgia. He opts to intertwine their fingers together, admiring the feel of Zitao’s slightly calloused hand in his own. “I…didn’t know we were the same. Kind, sorta. And you’ve probably had it worst than me…”

 

“No, no, of course not, this isn’t a pity party, Yifan, don’t worry,” Zitao chuckles under his breath, biting his bottom lip. “It’s nice to know there’s someone out there who went through something similar as you, isn’t it?”

 

The smile he had been trying to hide makes an appearance as Zitao glances down at their hands, to his eyes, before looking embarrassed but content back down at their hands again.

 

Yifan swallows and wraps his fingers more firmly around Zitao’s. “It is.”

 

“But to be honest,” Zitao says lowly. “I was kind of hoping you had something else to say to me.”

 

They’re flirting again, Yifan knows it, but there’s a sort of simmer in Zitao’s words. The truth being out has Yifan breathing like he’s on top of the world, and he can’t help but want to egg Zitao on with a confidence he didn’t know he had. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

 

“I don’t know, maybe something along the lines of you being enamored by my heavily dashing good looks, as I am with yours? Something like that,” Zitao comments as he ducks his head between his shoulders with that same bashful look.

 

“Well…it’s definitely something like that.” Although Yifan doesn’t directly say the words he means to, his intentions are definitely clear by the look they share. Zitao cracks a small smile and it’s not long before they’re breaking out into small giggles that turn into laughter.

 

“Does this mean I have to call you Mr. Kris Wu too?” Zitao asks and Yifan clicks his tongue, flicking the man on his forehead.

 

“Actually…you’re one of the few people I let call me Yifan. The other being my mother,” he admits shyly, a hand coming up to rub his neck.

 

Zitao pauses for a beat before laughing breathily again, shaking his head good-naturedly. It takes little to no hesitation for Tao to scoot even closer, leaning into his side, with his head resting on his shoulder comfortably as he plays with Yifan’s fingers again. Yifan feels the warmth bubbling up again and he can’t help but let out another pleased breath.

 

“That’s good to know,” the barista murmurs as he nuzzles further into his side, like he’s trying to burrow his way into Yifan’s warmth. Yifan’s sappy smile doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them, as he lays his own head on top of Zitao’s, nose digging into Tao’s hair.

 

“Yeah,” he says into the cold morning air, wrapping an arm around Zitao. “It is.”

 

~~

 

Days past and Kris is back to doing what he had been doing before ‘The Incident.’ He’s busy typing away on his computer, taking phone calls from potential buyers, and busting out ideas. It’s exhausting.

 

What depresses him the most is that he hasn’t caught a word from Zitao after their moment in the café’s garden, or even the sight of him. It makes him question if he had read Zitao wrong, that their motives weren’t actually the same. Kris lets out a wail as he drops his pen on the table. Luhan looks over at him with a disinterested look.

 

“Zitao is just as busy as you,” Luhan reprimands sternly as he slides over yet another folder before walking back to the cabinet at his desk. “Finish this last stack and you’ll be done for the day.”

 

“Is he fine? Does he still keep my favorite mug untouched? Sehun isn’t being a brat to him, right? He’s not being recklessly charming again?” Kris fires off questions at the mere mention of Zitao. “When can I see him? Should I just buy the café—“

 

“Buying the café should be the least thing you should do, Kris,” Luhan cuts in sternly, eyes immediately turning sharp. “He’s worked so hard to get where he is now, don’t you think buying what he worked hard for would just throw it all away? How would you feel if someone else bought your company, the place where you put heart and soul into?”

 

Yifan whines childishly as he slumps onto the desk, stomping his feet. Luhan rolls his eyes. “Maybe if you got your paper work done, you could get out early—“

 

Kris stands abruptly, hands slamming down on his desk, startling his secretary. “Alright, that’s it, I’m leaving now. Deal with this stuff, I’ll see you later!”

 

“Sir!” Luhan shouts, standing up as well from where he had been kneeling near the filing cabinet. “Sir, I’m actually filing right now, you can’t just up and go on a momentous occasion like this!”

 

Kris pauses, regards him silently, before promptly sweeping out the door. There’s a dull thud when Luhan bangs his head against the cabinet.

 

Zitao, Zitao, Zitao. Their moment at the café had been terribly ruined when Luhan had rudely called him, saying that he had to come back to the company immediately. He had apologized to Zitao as many times as he could, but Zitao had only smiled that same charming smile of his and shooed him off with a promise to talk later.

 

“Serious talks later?” Zitao had said, eyes searching, as he held onto Yifan by the sleeve of his sweater.

 

“Serious talks later,” he agreed solemnly, ruffling Zitao on the head with his other hand. Zitao had pouted at him, making him chuckle at adorable the man was being.

 

“Pinky swear!” Zitao proclaimed as he began to guide him up from the bench and towards the café entrance.

 

“What are you, seven?” he had asked, amused, but nonetheless complied to the younger’s request. He watched as they intertwined their pinkies, even pressing their thumbs together, and falling a little more at Zitao’s laugh.

 

Before he had even realized it, Zitao was leaning up, warm lips descending on his cheek and brushing over it ever so slightly, before pulling back with a mischievous grin. His senses were all filled with Zitao, the smell and the sight and the touch of him so close made him almost faint in surprise. Yifan had blinked stupidly down at Zitao, much to the other’s amusement, before being promptly pushed back into the café.

 

Ruffling his hair and smiling dumbly at the memory, even bringing up a hand to his cheek subconsciously, Kris now exits his company’s building, waving off employees that bow to him hurriedly. Just as he walks over the sidewalk, ignoring the choice of taking a car—which is a huge feat for him actually—Yifan stops dead in his tracks at the sight of the man he had been thinking about.

 

Zitao looks equally surprised, if for the way he stops in his own tracks is anything to go by. From across the street, Yifan can see his eyes widening, and in his hands are two Styrofoam coffee cups. And it’s crazy for Yifan to just accept it, his body going slack at seeing Zitao before his eyes. He doesn’t even need to say anything to get his attention, just simply exist, and Yifan vehemently accepts that.

 

It takes three seconds to push through the crowd milling about on the street corner and two to shove himself to the front and less than a nano second for him to sprint across the street to a suddenly shocked Zitao.

 

“Yifan!” he shouts, bumping his head into his shoulder in a half-hearted attempt at an attack. Yifan only laughs dorkily at him, hands on his hips, as he bends over slightly to regain his breath. This is enough for Zitao to sit the coffee cups down on the ground and punching him not too gently instead. Yifan only winces slightly. “What are you doing?! You could’ve—“

 

Kris grabs Tao by the shoulders and pulls him into his embrace. “Sorry,” he says, as he breathes Zitao in. And it’s only been a few days since he’s last seen Zitao, he has to remind himself, but it just feels so good to hold him like this. “But I just kinda had to.“

 

Zitao sighs as his body warms up to his, arms wrapping around Yifan’s waist. “You’re an idiot,” he comments fondly, and they share another laugh. “I was just on my way to see you, you know. Sorry I haven’t been texting you lately or anything I just wanted to get my mind sorted out for when I say—“

 

“I like you.” Yifan cuts in. Zitao stills, lips still parted. He pulls away and looks into Zitao’s eyes, searching, and all he can see is the warmth and relief and adoration and everything he had been feeling when he had seen Zitao from across the street. He smiles and leans down, pressing his lips against Zitao’s in a way he had both wanted and fantasized for a while now, pressing even harder when Zitao returns the kiss with the same pressure.

 

Zitao looks a little dazed when they pull back and he laughs, much to Zitao’s embarrassment. “C’mon, this isn’t the place to do this thing,” Zitao grumbles as Yifan picks up the coffee cups again, handing one to Zitao before pulling him in with an arm wrapped around his waist. “Give me a heads up next time!”

 

“But where’s the fun in that?” Yifan chuckles, eyes shining as he looks down at Zitao comfortably against him.

 

Unexpectedly, Zitao leans up for another peck on the lips and smirks at Yifan’s flush at the suddenness of it. “You’re right, it is fun,” he whispers and Yifan turns redder. “Better get used to it though,” he laughs.

 

Yifan sighs, like he’s carrying a huge burden. “I guess if I have to…” Zitao gives him an endearing look, his face scrunched up, and he can’t resist cupping the man’s cheeks. “…I wouldn’t mind.”

---

look at that terrible ending WOULD YOU LIKE AT THAT, i'll come back to edit this one day, maybe. also thanks for reading if you made it this far!!!