~ Sweet Coffee ~
G - fluff
Minseok & Yixing

In which Minseok is the cute boy who lives in the apartment next door and works in the town’s sweetest café

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” - Pablo Neruda
 

The staircase is wholly blocked by a jumbled mess of lopsided boxes, all labelled with black illegible scrawls and crumbling apart after enduring many hours spent toppling about in the back of a mover’s truck. Yixing stares at them, lost as he nibbles at his lower lip. His new apartment is on the top floor and the elevator is broken, yet there is no one in sight to help him carry all of the boxes up. He contemplates lugging them up the staircase one at a time, but he is exhausted and admittedly a little bit lazy, much more preferring to lounge around all day than partake in any strenuous physical activity. Though he knows that he doesn’t have any other option, his mind is filled with the desire of tugging out a seat, propping up his feet and reading a good book.

With a grumble, Yixing paces forward and heaves up a box, arms trembling under the unbelievable weight. His legs are already shaking, knees knocking together even though he has only taken two small steps. His progress seems virtually irrelevant and he whines as he attempts to make some more.

By the time he arrives at his apartment door, he is sweating like a heavily set man at a gym. His recently dyed black hair is dripping, the lengthier strands gluing themselves to his smooth nape. Both hands are grossly clammy and he quickly wipes them on his wrinkled shorts after noisily dropping the box from his arms. He glides slender fingers over his pocket and fiddles around until he can draw out his new set of keys, some rusted brown things with scratches and chips.

Despite its strange shape, a key slots effortlessly into the door’s lock and Yixing twists it, grinning when he hears it creak. The door swings open and he gets a whiff of a musky scent. He inhales deeply, before nudging the first box inside with his foot and padding around the apartment, surveying each and every corner. Everything seems to be intact and he can therefore no longer distract himself with checking for property damage. So, huffing irritably, he trudges back down the winding staircase and slowly transports each and every box to his cosy, aromatic apartment.

Yixing feels so amazingly content when his job is finally completed. He stomps his feet as though he is an overly excited child and claps his hands together in delight, eyes sparkling as he gazes around at the place he can now call his own. With a skip in his step, he prances around, body moving fluidly as he explores the empty space. There is a stream of sunlight filtering through the window in his kitchen and he thinks it is so beautiful, the rays dancing around in the form of tiny rainbows. He can see himself leaning on the counter each morning as he pours a steaming cup of tea and is undoubtedly anticipating the days that it is raining even more so. Raindrops slipping down glass, the sound of their impact just soft pit-pats, are his favourite sight.

He doesn’t need to wait long, because it rains the following day as he is busy unpacking the boundless stretch of tattered boxes. Across the floor, books and sketches are spread out in no particular order, some old and torn, others white and purely fresh. There are some bed sheets strewn here and there, and a few items that are useless, yet maintain sweet memories of his youth; the packaged condoms his father gave him on his sixteenth birthday, a lamb plush his aunty gifted him simply because he was her favourite nephew at the time and an figurine that a girl gave him after pursuing him for years only to find out he was totally, whole-heartedly attracted to men. He grins as he sets the inappropriate figurine to the side and continues to delve through the torn open boxes, searching.

It is around midday when there is a thumping on the door and Yixing flinches, startled by the sudden harsh sound. He scrambles to his feet, knocking over collectable comics in the process, and dashes to his door. Speedily, he fixes his hair and checks his breath, before pulling the door open.

Standing there is a shorter man, his hair and clothes extremely drenched. His hair is plastered to his forehead, but ceases just above his eyes, which are a prettily shimmering brown. It is a colour so deep that Yixing can feel himself falling into them, unintentionally leaning closer to the man, whose boyishly handsome features are beginning to contort.

Yixing realises that their noses are almost touching and jerks back, clearing his throat with an awkward cough. ‘Uh, can I help you with something?’

‘Well, first off…my name is Minseok. I’m your neighbour’, the man begins, offering his hand and then just as quickly dropping it as he remembers that he is completely soaked, ‘I planned on coming over to introduce myself later today, but I locked myself out and it rained and I’m really wet and the locksmith won’t be here for like four hours and it’s really cold out here and…’

Yixing looks over his shoulder and sees the rain softly hitting his window. He smiles subtly and his heart wriggles in his chest.

Minseok tilts forward and follows his new neighbour’s line of sight, but doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary. ‘So, can I come in?’

There is no response, so the shorter male yanks off his shoes and politely leaves them in the doorway before shuffling inside, trailing behind Yixing who absent-mindedly dawdles over to the window. He frowns in confusion at the other man, but shrugs it off and peers around. His eyes immediately fall upon the hairdryer sticking out of a cardboard box on the ground. Without a word, he snatches it up and disappears to seek a power point. All the while, Yixing continues to stare outside, his mouth agape in awe as the water trickles down the glass, creating faint shadows across his floorboards.

When Minseok returns, his hair is fluffy and somewhat static, and he has shrugged off his jacket to let his clingy shirt dry too. He sneaks a glance at the man whose house he is in and strolls over to the other side of the room, dumping the hairdryer back into its box. Curious and admittedly nosy, he leans in and examines the rest of the box’s contents. He has to stifle a laugh as his eyes fall upon a stack of Korean girl group albums. It seems that his new neighbour has quite an obsession.

Minseok peers up and stiffens, because Yixing is looking right at him. Well, he thinks that the taller man is looking at him. His eyes are pointed in Minseok’s general direction, but they aren’t focussed, lazy and each sort of moving in a contradictory manner to the other. Minseok is uneasy, but he sidesteps anyway just to see if his movements are followed. Though delayed, Yixing eventually turns his head and watches as Minseok crab walks around his room.

Soon, the thick silence in the room is broken and Yixing scratches his chin. ‘Who did you say you were again?’

Shaking his head incredulously and grinning, Minseok paces towards his neighbour and holds out his hand. Once Yixing accepts it and introduces himself a little warily, Minseok explains his situation once more and is finally able to see a look of understanding flash across the other man’s face. He also notices that Yixing, albeit dopey and sporting a skewed slouch, is exceptionally handsome. Every so often, in the middle of a sentence, he sways on the spot or pauses as though he has forgotten what he had been meaning to say. Minseok finds himself smiling as he observes such small things, and he quickly decides that Yixing is tremendously affable, an innocent mind trapped in an adult’s body; just the kind of character Minseok has needed in his life for quite some time.

Somehow the two end up walking together the following morning. Yixing is in desperate need of a caffeinated beverage and Minseok knows just the place. It is a family oriented café on the corner, only a few short minutes away from their apartment block. Though relatively small, it can’t be missed. The colours painting its exterior are vibrant and inviting, splashed randomly here and there as though an artist used the building as a canvas when it was first being constructed. There’s a stunning array of plants lining the front, with blossoming flowers of varied colours and leaves so brightly green that people passing by are closer. By the door are two humungous pots, overflowing with pastel pink petals and a contrastingly deep green, creating an image that one would expect to see in a fairy-tale. The interior is even more magical, with realistic vines dangling from the ceiling and sets of fresh flowers on each of the uniquely shaped wooden tables. There is live music, a lanky man with elven ears and a slight bowl cut, sturdy fingers skilfully strumming guitar strings and lips parting to emit a string of romantic lyrics. Behind the counter are two men of similar ages, bopping softly to the soothing tune as they simultaneously serve customers and brew coffee. One is short and delicate, his fingers fluttering and his steps fluent. He has thick eyebrows which knit together every few seconds and rarely smiles, heart-shaped lips remaining pressed into a firm, thin line. His co-worker is taller and grins at every customer. Faded pink strands occasionally topple into his eyes as he darts here and there, but they never stop his gaze from wandering fervently over to the other man. Minseok approaches them with a smile.

Yixing hesitates for a moment, immersed in the beauty of his surroundings. He startles when the smaller man calls his name and kindly waves him over.

‘The coffee down the road takes like the inhalation of fresh dirt and grass’, Minseok says nonchalantly, leaning on the counter.

Yixing his eyebrows. ‘It can’t be that bad.’

‘Oh, but it is. The café on the opposite side tastes okay, but why go there when you can come here?’

‘You’re so shameless’, the pink-haired man states, rolling his eyes as he punches orders.

When Yixing looks to him, features contorted in confusion, the employee points to Minseok. ‘He works here.’

The small neighbour shrugs his shoulders and with one graceful movement, leaps over the counter to land on the opposite side. He skips to a rack by the back wall and snatches an apron, tugging it over his head and speedily tying it around his slender waist. It suits him, the plain sheet of material over his casual clothes, clothes that outline his beautiful figure and make him seem permanently youthful. Yixing likes this look, but says nothing, too nervous to open his mouth. He simply waits for Minseok to serve him a cappuccino and upon grasping it in his shaking fingers, retreats on legs that have never moved so fast in their entire existence. There’s a dull ache in his calf muscles by the time he defeats the horrible ascent to his apartment, so irritating that he sculls his drink and immediately runs himself a warm, soothing bath, with bubbles and all.

Despite feeling embarrassed about his reaction towards Minseok’s handsome appearance, Yixing cannot avoid his neighbour no matter how hard he tries. He leaves the apartment and Minseok is waiting there, smiling pleasantly and waving with subtly flapping fingers. He heads out for coffee and Minseok is always miraculously on shift, resting on the counter indifferently and smirking like he knows something that no one else does. Yixing tests the other options in the neighbourhood, but Minseok’s comments turn out to be correct, because one seriously serves coffee more foul than the flavour of dirt and the other is boring and too far away. So, he tells himself that he just can’t bear to sacrifice caffeine, and uses this as an excuse to see Minseok’s charming face.

What Yixing doesn’t know, is that he’s the one thing that makes work worthwhile for Minseok (other than the free beverages and decent friendships of course). Minseok arrives at work early and busies himself with styling his hair and making pouty faces in the reflection of the metallic surface that is the cash register until his shift officially begins. When the clock commences the countdown until he can jog back home, he puts on his friendliest smile and whilst serving customers, silently hopes for a special visitor to drop by. It is often late in the day that his hopes are fulfilled, because Yixing isn’t much of a morning person and takes many, many long minutes to arrive at the café. Minseok doesn’t complain though. Seeing Yixing’s shyly beaming features makes the wait feel non-existent.

It is months after Yixing’s arrival that there is some kind of progress in his love-life. He, like any other day prior, scoops up his coffee cup and bids his farewells to Minseok as he exits the café. The drink is untouched until he paces into his apartment and gets comfortable, reclining into a dent in the couch and resting his feet on the table in front of the television. He brings the cup up to his lips and is about to take a sip, when he notices something in the corner of his eye. Peering down, he spots pen sketches decorating the exterior and a tiny, almost invisible cluster of hurriedly written cursive text. He brings it closer to his eyes and tries to focus in on the designs. There is a collage of images; miniscule hearts, hands entwining, lips stretched into a smile, mouths moulding together and legs tangling in a heated scene. Amongst it all, there are the words;

‘I know I am in love, because I can’t sleep at night. The reality is finally better than my dreams.’

Night falls upon the city and Yixing falls upon Minseok, after mustering up enough courage to knock on his door. When the shorter male answers, he is met with delicately soft lips and gentle hands. Fingers tickle his skin and a broad chest presses against his own, pushing him back inside and onto his couch, body melting into the cushions. He feels wet kisses against his forehead and jaw, tender nibbles on his earlobes and neck and palms gliding under his oversized sweater to caress his porcelain skin. Every touch makes his heart bounce around inside his chest, every breath sends tingles down his spine and every mumbled word Yixing whispers against his skin makes him smile wider and wider.

For the first time in his life, Minseok has to take a day off work. Yixing won’t let him leave his loving embrace.