It began with breakfast on a day like any other. He had a routine of going to the coffee shop right below his office building for his sugary caffeine needs. But something about that morning had Kibum in the mood for something different.

Hot chocolate.

Just as sugary, but less caffeinated and with just a hint of joyous Christmas memories. Granted that at first, those were bitter memories of the two Christmases he has celebrated every year since he was ten. As time went by though, the bitterness has developed into a different kind of sweetness.

Not unlike how the Dark Belgian Hot Chocolate served at the quaint little Italian café too develops, slightly bitter until Kibum adds an ungodly amount of sugar.

He had been all smiles that day as he placed his order, incredibly proud of the cover of Vogue Korea he had seen on the magazine stands on the way here. He knew what awaited him at work today and he knew of a certain handful of people that must be sitting on hot coal dreading it. The look he imagined he’d see on their faces was equivalent to the whipped cream on top of the hot chocolate he had been handed, the perfect topping to go with the perfect treat.

Perfect, of course, till said treat was sent flying from his hands in the very next moment.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, are you alright? It was very hot!” Kibum immediately went into panic mode as the drink really had been scalding hot. Most of it had spilled over the station with the straws and syrups, but a good amount had gotten all over his coat and laptop bag as well as the stranger’s suit.

His very nice Armani suit.

“I’m fine, I’m… fine. It didn’t get on my skin. How about you? I’m sorry I ran into you like that,” said the stranger, although Kibum could have been speaking to a black tuft of hair for all he knew because the man was busy taking his jacket off and grabbing paper towels to wipe the bit that had gotten on his white shirt underneath. It had soaked the shirt through and Kibum caught a hint of toned pecs underneath, which was only slightly distracting from the fact that it had probably burned the man a little there. But he said he was fine though, so maybe it didn’t hurt that bad.

Kibum grabbed a few paper towels as well to dab the stain on his laptop bag.

“Okay, great. Now, please tell me you’re gonna buy me another drink so this doesn’t have to get ugly for you,” Kibum said, noticing staring customers and giving them a deadpanned look as if to ask what they were ogling at.

“What, you’re not going to ask me to pay for ruining your leather bag?” he heard the man say.

“Do I look like I’m out to blackmail rich guys for money or something?” Kibum said, tone a little too haughty for even him, before looking up.

His breath hitched in his throat and he had barely suppressed the gasp that would have left his mouth had he not been careful.

“No… You-“ the man averted his gaze from Kibum to the floor, “You don’t seem the type at all. I was just asking…”

And then his eyes were back on Kibum’s, uncertain but still as intensely as any eye contact Kibum has made in his life before.

“Are you alright, sir? And you. I can make you a new drink and don’t worry about the mess, we’ll get it…” came an employee’s desperate effort to deter any possibilities of legal actions against the establishment, even though none of this was their fault.

“We’re fine here. Please make him the same drink, I’ll pay for it,” he had spoken to the employee, a man probably in his forties and balding from the stress of managing new interns at the job every few months. Kibum realized just then that he had been staring wordlessly for an awkward amount of time.

What were they talking about again?

“It’ll come off fine if taken care of quickly,” Kibum said while they were just standing there, waiting for the drink to be made again.

“What?” the man asked, confused.

“The stain, it’ll come off. On your jacket too,” Kibum managed to get through without stuttering.

Oh, just how his haughty tone had been reduced to this pitiful imploring for a little more time to just talk to this man.

“I know. I mean I didn’t know about the leather, but I know how to remove chocolate stains from clothes,” the man rambled on for a bit more, something that Kibum didn’t mind at all.

“-one of the basic foundations of childcare. Oh, speaking of, can I have two more of the same to go please?” he said to the employee at the counter hurriedly.

Oh.

Kibum had read the situation wrong. He had been so sure. So absolutely sure that there was more going on than what met the eyes here. But if there was a child in the picture…

Well, it was either that this was another cliché case of a married gay guy, looking for his next escapade in the bedroom, or that the child was not his.

“Childcare, huh?” Kibum asked, praying for this man to be a teacher at a very, very high-end kindergarten after confirming that there was no wedding band on any of his fingers, just to be sure.

“Yeah, my son’s quite the chocolate fiend. In fact, his mother would be pissed if she knew I’m getting him hot chocolate for breakfast. Can’t blame him though, right?” he said, casting a simple smile at Kibum before looking away hurriedly. Kibum’s heart sank.

But just because he couldn’t have it, doesn’t mean he can’t look, right?

“Right.” Kibum answered both the man and himself, taking in the man’s perfect side profile. And the lines his shirt made to follow the muscles underneath. And the colour of his skin, which would be a little too dark for society’s beauty standards, but in Kibum’s eyes was only rivaled by his own alluring hot chocolate drink.

Kibum looked up to find the man barely holding back another smile with his lips pulled between his teeth. He felt the heat rise to his ears and cheeks as he hurriedly took the drink and turned away, a bit more carefully this time.

“You don’t have to pay for this, the guy said he’d make it free of charge earlier. And be careful next time…” Kibum said to him, loading his hot chocolate with sugar. When he was done, he looked over to see the man with two cups in his hands, waiting for him. Kibum grabbed his drink, fixed his expression and accompanied the man out the café, holding the door open for him.

“Thank you…” he obviously expected for Kibum to fill in his name. Kibum was not willing to go any further down this dangerous path.

“Well, I hope you and your son and your wife have a good day then!” Kibum said all too cheerfully, emphasizing the latter part to get the message across loud and clear.

Which seemed to have escaped the man’s understanding as he only looked on, perplexed, as Kibum turned to leave.

“Of course, this would happen to me. Perfect day, perfect chocolate, perfect man, but man has to be married and looking for a good time outside said marriage. Why oh why Kibum is your luck-“ 

Kibum had been busy muttering to himself under his breath when he realized that the yelling he was hearing behind him was for him.

He stopped and turned. It was Mr.Perfect from the café.

“Wow, you walk fast!” he said, catching his breath. He was no longer holding the cups or his jacket.

“Look, I’m not interested, alright?” Kibum said, no more energy to beat around the bushes.

“I am, though. Very much so…”

Kibum sighed, ignoring just how adorable the other looked as he said that. Kibum will not condone the very thing that came between his own parents. His conscience will not allow it.

“She doesn’t have to know…” the man continued.

Kibum raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’m kidding! I’m divorced. That makes me very much single. And very much interested in taking you out for a drink that we preferably consume without spilling…”

Kibum knew he shouldn’t be this elated to hear about a divorce. But by god if that hasn’t been the best thing he has heard in his life.

“You could’ve lead with that, you know?” Kibum said, trying to cover up the blush on his cheeks by patting them nervously as he looked away.

“I’m sorry, let me start over.”

Kibum saw the hand being outstretched to him before he was forced to gather the nerves to meet the other’s eyes. And meet them he did, squealing in glee on the inside like a teenager at the sight of the smile wrinkles that adorned the corners of the other’s eyes.

“Hi, my name is Minho. I’m divorced and I’d like to take you out on a date…”