Kyungsoo was at home when he heard the news of his husband’s death.

The phone had rung, with it bringing the message that Jongin was hit by a drunk driver. An ambulance came, but he didn’t survive the ride back to the hospital. Kim Jongin was 27.

 

Like most days, Kyungsoo had hit the snooze button around 38 times that morning. This caused him to not have time to make his coffee before his yoga class started that Saturday morning - like most mornings. Before he left, he kissed the picture of him and Jongin together that sat on the bookshelf by the door.

With a sigh, Kyungsoo pushed open the car door to run into the coffee shop at the corner. Fortunately, the line wasn’t too long.

“I’ll have a small coffee to go please.” Kyungsoo dug into his wallet to retrieve a twenty.

“That’ll be $2.45.” The voice was deep. He looked up to see a rather attractive man, about in his mid twenties. Bleached blond hair, soft brown eyes, bronze skin with a small scar on his upper lip. Speaking honestly, the dude looked like a Greek god. The money was exchanged between them, and Kyungsoo tried not to notice how big and calloused the other’s hands were. “17.06 is your change. Would you like a receipt?”

Kyungsoo pocketed the change. “No, uh, I’m good.” He mentally cursed himself for stumbling with words. There was a moment of awkward silence, and he glanced up to see the Greek god looking at him expectantly. “Uh, what?”

The guy laughed. “I asked what was your name.” He saw the confusion in Kyungsoo’s eyes. “You know, for your order.” Oh.

“Kyungsoo.” He could hear the scribbling of Sharpie.

“Alright, Kyungsoo. Your coffee will be ready in a moment.” Just before Kyungsoo left, the man flashed him a warm grin. All of a sudden, Kyungsoo felt his heart tug at something, though he didn’t know what. It was a sensation like deja vu. Something was familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. This plagued him with his coffee in hand and when he went out the door.

 

“Hey you’re back.” The handsome barista leaned on the counter, his pen already in his hand. Kyungsoo approached him in his shorts and gym shirt, reaching in his back pocket for his money. He could have said that he was woke up extra late today and that he didn’t have a choice to come here again on his cool Saturday morning right before his yoga class, but that would be a lie. Kyungsoo smiled timidly. He knew exactly why he was back.

“One small coffee to go, please.” Once again they exchanged money and again Kyungsoo stared at the other’s sturdy hands. Was it just him or did his hands touch his own longer than necessary?

“Your coffee will be with you shortly.”

“Thanks.” Kyungsoo turned to leave.

“See you later?” His voice sounded hopeful, and Kyungsoo’s heart skipped a beat.

“Sure, yeah.”

 

Four more times this happened before Kyungsoo was shoved up against the walls of the back storage room, the other caging him in. The latter was just going to lean in for a kiss when something shiny caught his eye. He instantly pulled back.

“You’re, you’re married?” He choked. Kyungsoo was confused for a moment but quickly understood. Holding up his hand to show the ring on his finger, he tried to best to explain.

“Oh. I was, but.” He coughed. “I’m a widow.” The other’s shoulders relaxed, and he took Kyungsoo’s hands in his own.

“Oh God. I’m so sorry.”

“No! It’s okay. It’s really okay.” Kyungsoo could feel himself ramble on. “It happened three years ago, and I just like to wear it still because it reminds me of him. I think Jongin wouldn’t have wanted me to stay stuck on him. I mean I’m only 26. I still love him but I think he would have wanted me to. . . find other people, you know?” He twisted the gold band nervously. “Does that make sense?”

“I completely understand. It’s good that you do, still wear it.” The other almost looked proud and satisfied. Kyungsoo strantly felt like he passed a test of some sort. “So do you want to take a bre-” A loud knocking on the door stopped him.

“Hey! Who locked the storage room?” The two looked at each other.

“Do you want to maybe continue this later?” Kyungsoo nodded with wide eyes. As if the other read his mind, he said, “don’t worry I won’t get in trouble. You can take the back door out.” Opening the exit door open as quietly as possible, he ushered him out quickly.

“Thanks. See you later?” The other grinned, and the deja vu feeling came back.

“See you later.”

 

Next Saturday, Kyungsoo came at the regular time, expecting to see the barista greet him. Instead, different guy with glasses stood at the register. Maybe he was sick?

“Could I have a small coffee?”

“Is that all?” Kyungsoo nodded absentmindedly.

“Do you know what happened to the other dude who usually works here around this time?” The barista handed him his change.

“Oh, him. He quit.”

“What?!” ‘Well that was unexpected’, Kyungsoo thought.

“Yeah. Dude just said he quit and walked out. Rumor was that he was moving out of the country, sorry. Did you know him?” Things had escalated like a snowball rolling down a hill.

“Uh no. I didn’t.” The other nodded and snatched the receipt rising out of the register.

“Would you like your receipt?”