Baekhyun would never have imagined infinite space could make him feel claustrophobic before coming out to the intergalaxies. But here he is, barista at the only stop along the Cosmic Railway, still not accustomed to the relentless, unchanging, suffocating darkness. Hell, he’s still traumatized from finding out that stars at close quarters are nothing like stars at all. They don't even twinkle.

'I don't think I can stick this out,' he says hollowly. 'It's just so... weird and depressing out here.' He looks at Junmyeon, his expression pleading, like I probably sound crazy and I don't know if you'll get it, please get it and Junmyeon gives him a kindly, almost paternal look. Like he gets it, but he doesn't think it’s such a big deal.

'You're Earthsick,' he says cheerfully, 'it'll pass.' A rite of passage for all Outliers, apparently.

As the days go by (ostensibly; Baekhyun has the half the clocks set to Intergalactic Standard Time and the other half to Earth Time so he won't lose track, but it still feels like timeless limbo) he waits for the sickness to pass, but it only gets worse. Baekhyun is very social, he likes large groups of friends, he likes being loud and partying with a large group of friends and annoying a large group of friends and just chilling and being bros with a large group of friends. He likes the Earth life, with its overpopulation and twinkling stars if you just remove the haze from the city lights (not that that was ever possible, but nostalgia has the power of daydreams, of making you believe what you want even what you know you’re lying to yourself), he likes the laughter and bustle and noise and the people. He likes breathing actual air, even if it’s polluted.

Junmyeon listens patiently to his morose ramblings. 'You know I don't have the power to dismiss you, however much I sympathize with you. You'll have to stick around at least until you've worked the equivalent of what it cost to bring you out here, before there's even a chance of them entertaining the idea of cutting short your contract.' He pats his shoulder, gentle but firm. 'Of course, you can talk to me about this whenever, I hope it helps, but suffering isn't going to get you anywhere. Try for a change of attitude, hmm?'

Baekhyun doesn't know why he thinks that advice might work when his previous advice about waiting out the Earthsickness didn’t, but he tries it anyway. The two other baristas, Yixing and Minseok, are easy to get along with, but they distract from the loneliness rather than dispel it. No matter how nice they are he always has a niggling feeling he’s third-wheeling; that’s probably why.

Distraction is enough though. It gets so that although he isn't happy, he isn't unhappy either. Time will keep trickling down the hourglass regardless of whether he keeps count of the grains of sand. He no more wishes to see stardust scatter every time the single-coach Andromeda Express shoots by, scatter with the wind he knows doesn't exist in the vacuum.

It also helps that he enjoys making coffee, to the point he can lose himself in the process, playing with the balance of ingredients and watching the subtle changes in shade, texture, scent. Letting it settle in his veins, the palatable bitterness of solitary pursuit with the mildly sweet aftertaste of accomplishment.

★彡

The jingle quick becomes his favourite sound after that of Minseok humming while at work, because it means someone has entered, another human face. 'Welcome to Cafe Universe!' he calls out, glancing up from the cookies he’s stacking into a tin. The others are supposed to join in on the welcome, but if he’s being honest, the only other person who occasionally remembers to is Junmyeon.

The new customer grins in return, striding up to him at the counter while maintaining eye contact all along. Baekhyun wonders with dismay, whether he is so desperate for human connection that he feels like he’s falling in love with a stranger just from having him smile his way. He wants to jump over the counter and touch him. Bump shoulders with him. Or brush their fingers.

'I hate coffee,' the man confesses with a rueful, adorable laugh. 'So, um, any other hot drink? What would you suggest?'

'We serve hot chocolate,' says Baekhyun, his voice quieter than usual. He wonders why he doesn't bristle at the thought of the stranger hating his beloved coffee- coffee, his whole life right now!- and why instead he finds himself scanning the man from head to toe: caramel frappe skin (he must try making a latte of that exact shade sometime) , espresso eyes (before any milk has been added in). Black coffee eyes, actually. So dark, and they shine like the glimmer of water in light, because only water has been added in, no milk. His lips are a mocha of some sort- maybe strawberry. I can taste and decide, thinks Baekhyun yearningly.

'Baekhyun?'

He starts. 'W-what?'

'It's on your nametag,' boy-made-of-coffee points, laughing.

'Oh,' Baekhyun rubs the back of his head. 'Right.'

He laughs harder at his evident embarrassment, and after a couple of beats Baekhyun is able to huff out a laugh with him.

‘You seemed to have zoned out for a bit there. But I said, hot chocolate would be perfect.’ He chucks out another chuckle at the pout on Baekhyun’s face. ‘One to go, please.'

'One hot chocolate, to go!' yells Baekhyun over his shoulder, then turns back to boy-made-of-coffee, a nervous fluttering in his stomach. He can’t believe he’s seen someone (for the first time in almost a year) who makes his pulse quicken and skin prickle with heat, only to flub his first impression.

Boy-made-of-coffee rests his arms on the counter and looks around while waiting for his order, plush lips rounding in approval. It’s a cute place: wood panelling, wickerwork chairs, and vintage lightning fixtures. Not very creative, instead rather typical. But that’s the point: it has to be like any coffee shop you might walk into on Earth. The familiarity is the attraction, the nostalgia turning customers into regulars.

Baekhyun wants to make conversation, 'How is your day going?', anything, but he can't. He thinks about what kind of coffee boy-made-of-coffee would be if he was only one kind, or one as a whole. It's some of the most difficult mental labour he has ever put himself through. It's also disproportionately unsuccessful.

When the order arrives, he's very tempted to dawdle over the change but manages to resist. He watches boy-made-of-coffee go, with a raise of his cup and a goodbye grin, and he’s relieved. And sad. And yearning like an addict come down from a high only to crave more of the same.

It's only as he watches the door close behind the boy that it hits him. There was that one coffee he'd had in Hawaii, when he'd gone with Kris (who was just a high-schooler on spring break, but rolling in it) and his large group of friends. It was a house brew. At a local roastery, called- something short and snappy, easy to remember- what was it- Kai's Coffee.

If boy-made-of-coffee were a single brew, he'd totally be Kai.

★彡

That evening, Baekhyun darts from table to table, cleaning up, while Yixing prances around with a mop. The cliché being that you dance with the mop while treating it like a partner, Yixing fights the formulaic by using it as a sort of hip-hop prop. It's both amusing and impressive.

'Hey Yixing.' He doesn't know what spurs him to say it. 'Remember the guy from this morning?'

'One hot chocolate, to go?'

'Yeah, him.'

Yixing's dimples bloom teasingly. 'You were into him.'

Baekhyun stills, rubbing the same spot on the table vigorously. 'What gives you the idea?'

'You were literally looking at him like he was...' Yixing casts about for an apt analogy. 'Like he was coffee.'

Baekhyun almost knocks over the plates and cups he's stacking. 'That's so dumb.'

'Like you wanted to consume him,' persists Yixing. 'Get his froth on your upper lip and everything.'

'Gross!' He doesn't know what that's supposed to mean but it sounds like he ought to be scandalized.

'Why, what do you think I meant?' Yixing waggles his eyebrows. Baekhyun huffs and swats at him with the cloth. It ends in a chase, Yixing ducking under tables and climbing over the counter to hide behind Junmyeon.

'I'd tell you two to cut it out,' says their boss, 'but it's nice to see Baekhyun enjoying himself for once, so-' he pulls Yixing out from behind him. 'You can be the sacrificial sheep.'

Said sheep yelps as Baekhyun pounces on him, stuffing the table wipe down the back of his collar.

★彡

That night Baekhyun spends way too long staring at the ceiling and wondering whether he'll ever see Kai again. What if the hot chocolate ? Dammit, he should've checked whether Minseok added enough marshmallows and made sure he was generous with the whipped cream instead of just staring at Kai the whole time. (Although maybe it was a good thing he used that time to stare at Kai if he isn't going to get the chance to again.) The thought makes him feel like a weight is pressing on his chest, so that it's even harder to get to sleep.

The next morning, however, Kai jingles in at around the same time as the day before. 'Welcome to Cafe Universe,' Baekhyun sing-songs to the cup he’s drying, turning around and doing a double take when he sees who it is.

'Will you be coming every day?' he exclaims, and immediately wants to smack himself for being too eager.

'I think I will.' Kai's smile to Baekhyun's stomach: a pan to a pancake. 'I'll be commuting for work every day and this is the only stop along the way.' Baekhyun tries to school his features so as not to make his rejoicing too apparent.

'By the way, I uh... overslept so I skipped my breakfast today?' Kai runs a rueful hand through his hair. It's too cute. 'Do you serve sandwiches or something?'

Baekhyun tilts his head. 'We have waffles, muffins, cookies and milk, pancakes, croissants, donuts... and if you're into breakfast smoothies, they're not technically on the menu but Minseok could whip something up anyway.'

'A waffle sounds great. Remind me to try the cookies and milk next time?'

'Sure. So one waffle. And a hot chocolate?'

Kai nods. 'To go.'

Baekhyun repeats the order, yelling it in Minseok's direction. Unlike yesterday, Kai sits at a table to wait. Baekhyun is sorry he's not as close to him as before, but then again, the distance means he can stare relatively unnoticed. He remembers, however, to once-over the hot chocolate, and is pleased to find Minseok has been liberal with the marshmallows and whipped cream.

He's about to pass the order along so Yixing can pack it for Kai, but then he has an idea.

And it's a very un-Baekhyun idea, to approach a conquest in any way other than head-on, but so far he's unable to flirt shamelessly with Kai. Maybe nigh-on exile on this exoplanet has taken his toll on him. Maybe he hasn't been his flirty, outgoing self in so long he's unable to call back that aspect of him. Or maybe he's never felt this with anyone before Kai- attraction laced through with an unhealthy amount of desperation. A desperation so crippling he's too afraid to make a move, too afraid even for the boldness of testing the waters, too afraid he'll it up and Kai won't like him in return.

So he scrawls a cheesy message on the hot chocolate cup, something he'd never imagine himself doing. You bring sunshine to my exoplanet. Well, it's only true, he thinks defensively. Ever since Kai walked in yesterday, he hasn't brooded once on why exoplanets have a moon but no sun.

★彡

Soon, Baekhyun begins to keep time by Kai, and the days don't seem melded together with the indistinctness of darkness anymore once he starts remembering them by what Kai ordered, rather than the date. Kai will walk in and Baekhyun will know it's the next morning, actually know it instead of glancing at all the clocks and going, 'Huh.' For the first time since coming here, Baekhyun looks forward to the next day. To the next time he gets to see and speak to Kai, and perhaps learn a little more about him: that he manages an art gallery on the other side of the galaxy, that his favourite food is fried chicken (Baekhyun bemoans that Junmyeon has stated in no uncertain terms that he will not allow such a dish to be added to the side menu), that he oversleeps too often. Kai to Baekhyun's world: a pan to a pancake. Leave alone that living in the heavens is like death because of the near impossibility of ever making it back; he has flipped it over from purgatory to paradise.

Baekhyun is happy. The vastness of space swells in his chest, like wonder, like euphoria; the black hole between his ribs dissolves into his breath, sharp and self-aware even when swallowing artificial air, because living in love is like death, like really knowing you’re alive for the first and last time. Sometimes his happiness is punctured, and he's bitten by a feeling that it's all a game, a dangerous make-believe, but he always punches it down. His messages get gradually bolder: I donut care, except for you and We go together like apple and cinnamon. Sometimes, while he's working and the cafe is empty of customers, he actually sings, full-throated and free. Minseok and Yixing (sometimes, if he's really mellow, even Junmyeon) join in, and it reminds him of Earth, of noraebangs, except it almost feels better.

When he sees Kai laughing into somebody else's eyes- Yixing, or Junmyeon- he knows. He knows it's the same way Kai laughs into his eyes, that he's nobody special, no more special to him than they are. And his happiness is punctured- no, gashed. But he punches it down. It doesn't change anything, he tells himself. It doesn't diminish the burst of all of space contained in him when Kai holds his gaze, when his eyes crinkle, when he talks to him and seems interested in what he has to say.

A couple of months after he first walked into Cafe Universe, Kai orders a blueberry Danish with a butterscotch smoothie, and says as Baekhyun is ringing him up, 'Someone's been writing romantic messages on my cups. I don't know who. Like,' he looks down at the counter, blushing adorably, 'I'd thought maybe they were just cute messages but then they were kind of specific? And I saw the other customers didn't have anything written on their cups.'

Baekhyun's heart thuds against his ribs with around ten times its usual force. Ten times the pulse of all the universe rolled into one, so he estimates from the sound and feel of it. . He shouldn't have written It's only Cafe Universe when you're in it, that was going too far. That was downright creepy. Scratch that, he was creepy to even begin, and then to keep going on this trajectory.

'That... must've made you uncomfortable,' he says carefully, trying to keep his tone neutral and not give it away with words that wobble with guilt. He watches the bill curl out, nameless because Kai always pays with cash. 'You could talk to management, they'd put a stop to it.'

Kai's eyes widen adorably (but then everything he says or does is adorable and Baekhyun might as well stop attaching that adjective to his every action, it's a given). 'Oh, it isn't uncomfortable. I mean. The messages are... sweet. Not, you know, suggestive or-' he swallows, and blushes harder, 'ual or- it doesn't feel like harassment. It's actually kind of cute?'

Baekhyun blanks. Kai just called him cute. 'Oh.' is all he's able to offer.

'Yeah. I'm just... curious,' Kai finishes shyly.

Baekhyun's chest is painfully constricted. He forces out a laugh. 'I could get you handwriting samples.'

'It's fine,' Kai nibbles his bottom lip, which would've gotten Baekhyun all hot and bothered and trying to hide that he’s hot and bothered, if not for the disappointment in the gesture, unadulterated in his eyes.

But then his face switches up, he's pocketing the bill, collecting his order and bidding a cheery farewell as usual, and Baekhyun thinks he must've imagined it.

 ✦ 　 * 　　.　　   ·
 　　  ✦ .  *  ✺   　　 
    ✦  ·  ✫ 　　 .

The next morning, Kai doesn't come.

Baekhyun isn't the only one spooked by it. They're so accustomed to him dropping by, that they're honestly worried. Something untoward must have happened. But nobody vocalizes these unwelcome thoughts, they pretend to go along as usual. Baekhyun isn't fooled; the occasional glances darting towards him tell him the truth. All along, he knew it would come to this. Orbiting is self-destructive. Someday he’d collapse into the sun.

He just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

He's not the only one, but he's the worst affected. He's dazed, clumsier than usual, and when he breaks a cup, Junmyeon takes him aside and tells him gently that he should take the rest of the day off.

'I just... need to clean up,' he raises an arm, zombie-like, towards the mess he's made. He wants to take the shards and press them in his fist, feel them jag his palm, draw blood. It's his fault Kai hasn't come today. Kai had said those messages were cute, but then he must've seen something in Baekhyun's face, something that told him Baekhyun had been writing them. That explained that look in his eyes, that disappointed look. He hadn't wanted it to be Baekhyun. But now he knows, and he doesn't want to come because it feels awkward, knowing. Baekhyun understands. I'm so sorry.

'I'll clean it up,' Junmyeon says firmly. 'You go and rest.'

So he does, traipsing up to the loft, which is where they live and sleep. He tumbles into bed and switches on Minseok's radio, tuning into the most sorrowful ballads he can find. Soon he's crying into his pillow and wishing he'd never left Earth. If he'd never left Earth he'd never have met Kai. Even if he had, he wouldn't have needed him. Not like he does now, like the black hole in his chest had never dissolved and it wants to swallow the sun, so that he’s one with him, so that he’s his, swallow and extinguish so everyone feels what he feels, this yawning, deadening, uproarious darkness. So that everyone is living like he is.

Kai doesn't show up the next morning either, nor the one after that, nor the one after that... two weeks go by during which Baekhyun is constantly high on coffee and stuffs himself with everything on the side menu, all bakery items, all comfort food. He's singing again, but it's not like noraebangs anymore, unless we're talking the ones where everyone is so drunk that instead of belting it out they're crying it out. He sings mournfully, and more often than not it's the old, familiar song none of them remembers the name of, the one that goes 'The moonlight that seems to guide me through the interwoven days... wandering the far ends of the sky, we came here because we wished for it…' except he's just repeating those disconnected lines over and over because he can't remember the rest of it. Neither can anyone else. It drives Minseok crazy, he says it's all Baekhyun's fault he's got it stuck in his head and he's going to go insane if he can't remember the rest of it. But Baekhyun doesn't care about the rest of it.

'Even so,' he tells Yixing during a particularly jittery coffee high (Yixing pretends to be stoned on weed during these times, according to him his lassitude will balance Baekhyun out), 'If we assume that it's true that behind every moon there’s a sun- know what it means?'

Yixing considers pretending to be too jacked up to respond, but Baekhyun is swinging his legs from up on the counter and practically quivering, and that strikes him as cute, so he humours him with a mellow 'Mmm?'

Baekhyun jumps off the counter and prances. 'HE'S WATCHING OVER ME! IT'S STILL HIM LEADING ME THROUGH EACH DAY-'

Junmyeon, from behind the scenes- 'STOP ING YELLING!'

'I still can't tell the days apart though,' Baekhyun says, sobering up a little.

'Wow,' says Yixing, 'even I'm not that high.'

And Baekhyun cracks up at that, doubling over the counter and laughing with his whole body, laughing with such violence in part because he’s so wired and excitable, laughing for the first time since Kai’s eclipse.

★彡

Minseok is making a hot chocolate. Baekhyun can tell because he hears him humming to himself, 'Marshmallow...' presumably while adding marshmallows. It makes him smile.

And when he hurries to the counter, as always to check whether the customer is Kai, and finds that it isn't, of course it isn't, the gulf in his chest makes itself known. Most of the time, though, he isn’t bothered by it anymore. It’s a part of him now.

★彡

Yixing whittles away at his loneliness, and the gulf gulps down the wood shavings without scruple. Every time they have a day off that Baekhyun spends with Yixing, getting high in their respective ways, his mouth feels full of sawdust the next morning. Like whatever he had with Yixing the night before has been ground up for the incinerator. Hangovers, regrets, bad decisions- this kind of intoxication transcends all that. But he’s missing something, forgetting something, letting sawdust and sand slip through his fingers, letting something go and jagging himself on a splinter.

He's back to belting out his singing, noraebang style, and he's swinging his legs while perched on the countertop. Yixing and the mop are dancing to it, Yixing rolling his hips every time Baekhyun yodels, and Minseok comes out to watch, untying the apron around his waist. (On the days that it’s Baekhyun’s turn to mop, the broom handle is his mic, and while clearing the tables Yixing holds out each cup in his direction, like an elite patron showing his appreciation for the act, ‘cheers to you’, with his flute of wine.)

Once Yixing's done cleaning, he wishes them good night, with a bedtime dimple for each. Baekhyun takes his and slips it between his ribs. He stays on the counter; he feels like he can belt it out a while longer and hopes Minseok is in the mood to join in. But no, Minseok is in the mood for a heart-to-heart.

'I like Yixing,' mumbles Minseok, staring at the counter and going pink, 'and normally I'd approach him about it by now... b-but when I see him dancing...' his voice goes so low now that Baekhyun has to careen forward to hear, '...I wonder if I can handle it.'

When Baekhyun doesn't say anything, Minseok looks up to find him staring back, his jaw slack.

Thinking he's just being a gormless idiot, Minseok adds in an explanatory manner, 'I bottom.'

Baekhyun hides his face in his hands. Minseok hadn't pegged him as someone who got embarrassed talking about stuff like this- until he realises Baekhyun's shoulders are shaking with laughter.

'You know, I should've gone to Junmyeon. Only reason I decided to talk to you is because you know Yixing the best!'

'S-sorry,' gasps Baekhyun. Minseok pouts at him until the bubbles of his laughter settle down and he pats Minseok's cheek. 'Don't worry. He body rolls like a beast, but he's an innocent lamb, really.'

'Really?' Minseok glances down, eyelids fluttering. '... What if he doesn't feel the same way? We work together, it would be-'

'Not going to happen. When I first came here I felt like a total third wheel with you two; it's just that you aren't official yet.'

★彡

The next evening, Baekhyun walks in on Yixing and Minseok making out over one of the tables. He takes the scene in at a glance: they moved to clear the same cup, their hands touched, and sparks flew (maybe Minseok confessed). Their fingers are still in contact at the rim.

Junmyeon walks in after Baekhyun and freezes in his tracks.

'Took you long enough!' he scoffs loudly after he seems to remember how to work his vocal cords.

The couple break apart and round on them in astonishment, not aware they'd had an audience. Baekhyun sends Minseok an overblown thumbs-up, watching him redden with still less subtle satisfaction. Yixing just beams, and Baekhyun swears his dimples just got deeper; love being a great beautifier and whatnot.

'Just you and me in the singles club,' says Junmyeon, bringing two macchiatos over and handing him one. 'Cheers.' He clinks his cup against Baekhyun's.

 ✦ 　 * 　　.　　   ·
 　　  ✦ .  *  ✺   　　 
    ✦  ·  ✫ 　　 .

The Andromeda Express and the Milky Way Central add a new coach each, and the Cassiopeia Central is launched with its route along the Cosmic Railway line. Soon, Rush Hour at Cafe Universe is actually rushed. (There’s an upshot to this; Kai used to be their bearer of news from Earth and after he eclipsed it was back to relying on Minseok’s radio, but now they have a slew of customers that keep them up to date.) After a very harried week, Jumyeon calls for a meeting.

Wearing an apron and a frown that doesn't match, he paces behind the counter (which his employees are sitting on, like birds on a telegraph wire). 'I think we're understaffed.'

'Hear, hear!' says Minseok. Yixing claps cutely.

'So, I've decided to put out a call for another barista/waiter,' he continues. I think one more would suffice.'

'Thanks for taking such good care of us,' quips Baekhyun. 'You're like our mom out here, y'know?'

'I'd put a call out for an adoptive dad as well, but I know it's no use. Anyone who meets you bunch is going to opt out.'

Baekhyun pouts. Yixing giggles, and Junmyeon's brow finally clears at the sight of the deep imprints in his cheeks.

'You're partial to Yixing,' Baekhyun whines, pouting deeper.

★彡

The next weekend, everyone lines up to meet the new recruit at eight on the dot, which is when the cafe opens. Turns out they'll have to wait a few minutes; Jumnyeon asked the newcomer to get here early so that he can change into his uniform before being introduced to them. He can be fussy like that.

'Anyone caught a glimpse of newbie?' Baekhyun looks pointedly at Minseok, who habitually wakes up early.

The latter shrugs, 'Just from the back.'

'What did you think?'

'I didn't think anything.'

'Well think about it now,' he whines exasperatedly.

'I think...'

Baekhyun leans forward a little on his toes.

'I think I'm monogamous.'

'Urgh! You can just tell me if he's cute on not! That's not cheating, that's allowed!' He flails frustratedly, Minseok stepping out of reach. 'Did he have wide shoulders and a tapering back? How was his ?'

Yixing laughs freely behind them. 'You can tell him what you noticed, Minnie, I really don't mind.'

Baekhyun is too distracted to choke on the nickname, but Minseok says with a -eating grin on his face, 'I don't remember, actually.'

He's about to punish them with dramatics, but Yixing chips in, 'He didn't make much of an impression, then. And Minnie has excellent taste so-'

Baekhyun rolls his eyes.

'He might be attractive, but not as attractive as me,' he ends with a wink. Minseok scoffs fondly.

Baekhyun is on the verge of hoping for a divine intervention to spare him this new, drastically love-struck Minseok, when the kitchen door squeaks open and he sends his silent gratitude heavenwards. 'Okay, everyone, turn around and say hi to the maknae- in age as well as experience, apparently.'

They duly turn around. Junmyeon has a broad grin on his face- not a common sight. Baekhyun attributes it to relief at finding someone to ease their workload, but in hindsight he'll think it undoubtedly suspicious.

The maknae-in-multiple-senses steps out from behind him, and all thought leaves Baekhyun in a huge intake of oxygen that goes straight to his head, winding him.

It's Kai. His nametag says Jongin. (Funny that of all he found out about him over the duration he was a regular, he never got to know his name. It’s scant payment, however, for this- this situation that should never happen outside of all the k-drama he long left behind on Earth.)

ing of course. Baekhyun is in such physical proximity to the stars and planets here, so easily in their sights that they can spy on him anytime and conspire to align themselves specifically to ruin his life.

★彡

'You were all in on this, weren't you? Planned it all out to with me?'

It's embarrassing, but Baekhyun is actually sniffling, and he can't stop. The panic won't subside.

Minseok claps him on the back. 'Hakuna your tatas, Baek.'

' you!' sobs Baekhyun.

Jumyeon pinches the bridge of his nose. 'Look, this will be a little bit of a shock to you, so- sit down, will you?' He grimaces and pushes Baekhyun down by the shoulders. The latter reluctantly lets his knees give way to sit on the edge of the chair, hiccupping.

'What?'

Junmyeon doesn't answer right away. He fills a glass of water and sets it down, perhaps harder than necessary. 'Drink.'

Baekhyun flinches, then brings the glass up to his quivering lips.

'Like I was saying, I know this is going to be a bit of a shock, but I have to break it to you- the whole ing world doesn't revolve around you, Byun Baekhyun.'

Baekhyun chokes and spews the table through his teeth. Mineok slaps Yixing's shoulder with a guffaw, setting him off. Baekhyun watches the pair double over in laughter and draws anger from it before unleashing on Junmyeon.

'Did you even ing consider for a ing moment what having him around me as a coworker will do to me?'

'The whole ing world doesn't revolve around you, Byun Baekhyun,' parrots Minseok, falling back into laughter with the next breath.

'What he said,' mumbles Jumyeon, examining his nails.

'Why the did you hire him, then?'

'He can make latte art.'

Baekhyun opens his mouth and shuts it, silence filling the in-between.

He doesn't know why in the universe the fact that Kai can make latte art is hot, but it is.

★彡

He tries to explain it to himself and to Yixing later. 'It's like when your high school crush, you know, plays guitar.'

'Or cooks!'

'Or makes latte art!'

'Or makes a mean hot chocolate!'

Baekhyun grins at him. 'You get it.

★彡

Baekhyun gently adjusts the cone of filter paper, then pours a little hot water and watches it drip, leaning the jut of one hipbone against the counter. Jongin ambles over, and he tries not to flinch away.

'Why're you pouring the water before putting in the coffee?' Jongin crooks his eyebrow interestingly. Baekhyun wants to trace the fine hair with his finger, push it up and down and watch it wriggle.

‘It’ll end up tasting papery otherwise.'

He laughs. 'You're not serious.'

'It's true! It's to remove the starchy stuff beforehand!'

He cuffs Baekhyun lightly on the shoulder. 'I know.'

Baekhyun huffs and turns away, empties what he calls the paper-water into the sink and proceeds to fill the cone with ground coffee. 'Listen, this is a delicate operation that takes all my skill and attention, so can you not bother me when I'm doing this one thing?' Jongin has been doing nothing except bother him since getting hired (in the breaks, he makes wonderful things with chocolate syrup on latte foam, and he pulls up his socks during rush hour; that’s why he’s been getting away with it.)

‘I’m not here to disturb you!’ Jongin waves his palms with wide chocolate-syrup eyes, and it’s almost convincing. ‘I want to watch you pour-over. Junmyeon said it’s your speciality.’

Baekhyun preens. ‘You know Junmyeon gives credit where it’s due. No more, no less.’

Jongin chuckles, ruffling his hair. Baekhyun ignores the way his insides flare at that, and without any more ado, raises the pouring jug-

‘Wait!’

Baekhyun breathes in canned oxygen and patience in a long, deep breath. ‘Yes?’

‘What temperature is the water supposed to be?’

Turning away to roll his eyes vehemently, he answers, ‘Boiling.’

He can’t help but soften a little when Jongin gives him a thumbs-ups. With both thumbs.

He begins the delicate process of pouring the hot water over the coffee in careful circles, smaller to bigger, spiralling. Usually it soothes him to do this, his own personal stress-buster. But today Jongin is standing too close and watching too closely, and his heart isn’t steady and his hand isn’t steady. He bites his lip to keep from swearing when his wrist jitters at the wrong moment. He feels dizzy, like a planet out of orbit.

Then Jongin gently catches hold of his wrist (which stiffens involuntarily, like the rest of him, petrified in shock), and guides it in slow, precise circles. Baekhyun is unable to breathe, which is bad because he needs the canned oxygen and calm, and because he doesn’t want to hyperventilate right up in Jongin’s personal space. It’s bad enough that Jongin can probably feel his erratic pulse and guess exactly what’s going on with him. He’s unable to breathe, but he can smell Kai, and he can smell the coffee too, and it’s too much.

Jongin lowers the pouring jug, and Baekhyun feels a pang that it’s over, except it isn’t. He doesn’t let go of Baekhyun’s wrist, and Baekhyun makes the mistake of looking up. Into chocolate syrup eyes wordlessly sloshing into his soul. It makes him feel all gooey inside.

Which is bad.

He breaks eye contact first. Clears his throat elaborately, pulls his wrist away (with a pang) and tries for a weak laugh.

He’s not looking Jongin in the face, but he’s looking in the general area of his jawline and sees his Adam’s apple swoop as he swallows. Hard.

‘Your… hand’s pretty good.’ Runs his own hand through his hair, laughs weirdly again. ing awkward. ‘Figures, you’re good at pouring chocolate syrup, you’ll be good at pouring water.’

That seems to break the spell; Jongin snaps out of it and has the gall to smirk at him. ‘My hands are good at other things, too.’

‘Well!’ It comes out a yelp. Baekhyun winces internally. ‘Shift’s done, won’t keep you!’ and flees upstairs.

His heart is still pounding (from taking the stairs two at a time, he tells himself) when he shuts the door behind him. The temptation to play it all back in his head is strong, but he resists. He doesn’t want to daydream it over and over until he isn’t sure if Jongin held his wrist, or if Baekhyun murmured breathlessly ‘Take me’ and Kai did, right there on the counter, folding him over it and taking him from the back halfway through, or if Kai decorated Baekhyun’s body with chocolate syrup and it off-

‘Stop,’ Baekhyun tells himself sternly, aloud.

★彡

Baekhyun is glad the next day is a Saturday, because weekends are Jongin’s days off. He usually takes the Andromeda Express on Saturday morning to check up on his gallery, returning Sunday night. He’s got an apartment of his own out here, so Baekhyun figures he’s important in his venture and his work can’t be left completely in others’ hands. Also, owning or renting an apartment in the intergalaxies is astronomically expensive. Baekhyun’s already scandalized enough with Jongin only making proper use of the luxury two days a week.

Baekhyun comes downstairs for his shift when he knows Jongin would’ve already left- around ten-thirty or so. The same time that Jongin used to step into their café, back when Baekhyun used to actually keep time by him. Before, Jongin’s stop at their exoplanet was a break along his two-way journey, but now his commute begins at their exoplanet, his journey practically halved and occurring only once a week. He leaves their café and boards the Express when the other passengers, going the full journey, step off and enter for a bit of refreshment. The memories of when Jongin was one of those passengers are so strong that sometimes it’s disorienting seeing him around, seeing him leave when he used to enter. As disorienting as it feels not to have anyone to keep time by anymore. And to call him Jongin when his brain often slips up and thinks of him as Kai- he has made his peace with this though; decided that Kai is perfectly acceptable as a nickname, a term of endearment that he’ll never admit to Jongin out loud.

For all the bustle of rush hour at the café, Jongin seems much more relaxed and happy now when compared to the man who ordered everything to go because he hadn’t the time to do otherwise, who was routinely so tired that he overslept most days. Baekhyun likes to think that he found the hot chocolates reviving (he dares hope that he might’ve found some of his messages heartening, even if others made him uncomfortable), and that he likes working here. That because of the improvement in his work routine, he might stay. Beyond his extended break from the gallery. Forever.

‘What are you thinking about?’

Baekhyun jumps, dropping the plate he was drying. There’s the harsh clink of breaking china, and he swears, crouching down. ‘Why are you still here?’ he says as he carefully picks up the shards with the dishtowel. ‘Missed the train?’

‘No,’ comes Jongin’s voice from the other side of the counter. ‘I’m foregoing looking at paintings in favour of looking at you.’

Baekhyun huffs at Jongin’s teasing tone, grateful for the counter that hides his reddening cheeks from view. ‘So, does my aesthetic appeal to you, then?’ He stands slowly, cradling the shards in the dishrag and taking small steps towards the dustbin. ‘What’s your expert opinion? How’d you judge this piece of art?’ He wiggles his hips to the sound of Jongin’s delightful laughter.

That causes a piece of plate to slip, the jagged edge grazing his finger along the way. He’s about to stoop and pick it up, but he notices a pinprick of blood, swelling into a droplet.

The next moment, Jongin is holding his wrist again, his right wrist, like last night, and his finger. Baekhyun’s knees buckle, he grasps the counter with his other hand to steady himself. His nerves are jumping under a numb haze, like fireworks hidden under the swathes of smoke they create. Jongin shouldn’t have such a powerful effect on him. It’s not fair.

Unlike last night, however, his mind flashes with moments of clarity. While he’s mesmerized by Jongin’s plush lips around his finger and occupied with trying very hard not to imagine those lips around other things, at some point he’s aware of Kai’s dark gaze on him, the intent and the promise it holds, the way it lingers almost hungrily, unwilling to let go.

It thrills Baekhyun out of his stupor, and his throat comes unstuck. ‘I could just put it under the tap. Or,’ he swallows, ‘ it myself.’

Jongin gently pulls off his finger, with an unwillingness that suggests he isn’t sated, blowing softly on the cut. Baekhyun shivers, his throat closing off again.

‘I wanted to do it,’ says Jongin, holding Baekhyun’s hand as though it belongs to a princess, ‘Because your fingers are so pretty…’ begins kissing them, knuckle after knuckle, twining his own fingers through them before moving up to Baekhyun’s lips.

 ✦ 　 * 　　.　　   ·
 　　  ✦ .  *  ✺   　　 
    ✦  ·  ✫ 　　 .

Baekhyun doesn’t sleep very well that night, but he’s too spazzed to care. He tosses and turns, remember the kiss- a tangle of tongue and heat and breathless breath, passionate and tender all at once, the best kiss of his life, he’s sure- and takes it out on his pillow, squeezing it with all the force of his excitement. He refuses to let himself squeal into it like a schoolgirl, but he burrows under the sheets with it just in case- the way Jongin held his hand and kissed it made him feel like he’s always had an inner schoolgirl, like Jongin has always been the stuff of her wet dreams.

A series of knocks sound on the attic door the next morning, and he tumbles out of the sheets, still holding the pillow.

He thinks he must still be dreaming when he opens the door to Kai, holding a breakfast tray. Baekhyun looks blearily from Kai’s delectable face to the delectable apple cream turnovers and coffee he’s brought, and mumbles, ‘I’m not going to wake up until I’ve finished all of that, okay brain?’

Kai laughs his delectable laugh and leans across the tray between them to peck him on the nose. ‘You’re so cute, hyung.’ Baekhyun scrunches his nose and grins as Kai ruffles his sleep-tousled head. ‘You’re not asleep. I brought you breakfast in bed.’

‘Why?’ says Baekhyun, suddenly wide-eyed and wide awake. He knew they’d have to talk about last night’s kiss and what it meant, and he’s been both anticipating and slightly anxious. Jongin’s gesture, though, is so… warm and sweet and domestic that hope explodes in Baekhyun’s chest.

Jongin freezes for a moment, then sets the tray on the bedside cabinet and throws up his arms. ‘’Cause it’s Sunday!’

Baekhyun pouts. ‘I’m already out of bed though.’ He has half a mind to sulk; the beacon of hope just dwindled a little.

Jongin holds him by the shoulders and walks him backwards until his knees hit the foot of the bed and they topple over, with Jongin on top of him. Baekhyun blanks, going rigid, his heart pounding so hard he feels it in his skull. Jongin’s already so close, his sight, his scent filling his senses, but his gaze lowers to his lips and Baekhyun them nervously (and strategically, if he’s being honest), and Jongin’s breath is ghosting over his cupid’s bow and he closes his eyes-

Jongin nips playfully at his lower lip, then rolls off him, chuckling. Baekhyun sits up, fuming, and scrambles to the head of the bed, grabbing a pillow and attacking the other with it. He loses quickly, though, when Jongin discovers he’s ticklish.

A record five minutes later (Baekhyun hasn’t lasted such a short time in battle before, and he’s definitely never lost so quickly), Jongin rearranges the pillows and settles a still gasping Baekhyun against them. ‘Now eat, before it goes cold,’ he says, setting the tray on his lap.

That’s when Baekhyun sees the wavering chocolate-sauce letters on his coffee: Will you go out with me?

Jongin, so bold last night, is now blushing profusely and unable to look him in the eye. Baekhyun leans over, brushing their lips.

‘That’s a yes,’ he grins at an open-mouthed Kai.

 

Jongin switches between watching him fondly as he eats and looking away self-conciously when he catches himself staring. Baekhyun has to keep raising the coffee cup to his lips to hide his smiles. After he’s finished, Jongin clears everything, calling over his shoulder ‘We’re going on a date at ten; Junmyeon agreed to let you off for today!’ leaving Baekhyun to shower and get ready.

His wardrobe is woefully limited; he wears his uniform most of the time so he hadn’t stocked up on clothes besides his nightwear. He does have a couple of sweaters in pastel colours, luckily, so he chooses a baby blue one, pulling the sleeves into sweater paws. It’s his first date, he’s got to look cute. After fiddling with his bangs to have them fall into his eyes exactly right, he leaves his room, meeting Jongin on the stairs.

‘You look cute,’ the latter grins.

Baekhyun preens. ‘That’s what I was going for.’ Then he considers Jongin, who’s wearing jeans and a white button-up, and has to swallow his drool. ‘Um. You look good, too.’

‘Just good?’

‘You look great!’

‘Just great?’

Baekhyun huffs in annoyance. ‘Fine. You look really hot!’

Jongin has the grace to press his lips, clamping down on the growing smirk. He takes his hand and leads him to one of the tables.

Baekhyun gapes as he pulls out a chair for him. ‘We’re having it here?’

‘I told Jongin I’d let you off work today only if you did us the honour of having your first date here,’ Junmyeon says while bringing a stack of plates from the kitchen to the counter. ‘And of commemorating the start of your relationship, too, here. Every year.’

‘Junmyeonnn,’ Baekhyun’s not even sure what he’s whining about. But Junmyeon is thinking too far ahead. Also, it’s embarrassing.

‘Actually, the other two wanted to follow you and spy on your first date, but I didn’t want to have to let them off work too and deal with the loss of shutting up for the day,’ Junmyeon shrugs, ‘Plus they have bets on how long you’ll last.’

‘Are you betting too?’ Baekhyun juts his jaw out. Jongin just looks amused.

‘I’m sound in my investments. I put my money where I’m sure. And I’m sure I’m going to stay single forever,’ says Junmyeon morosely. ‘That’s what I put all my money on, I’ve nothing left over to fritter off on forecasting your tangled love lives.’

As he stalks back into the kitchen to deal with more dishes, Baekhyun rolls his eyes. ‘Snape does it better.’

‘Our love lives aren’t tangled; we’re going to tie a single knot!’ Jongin shouts mirthfully at Junmyeon’s back as it disappears into the kitchen, only for his face to cloud over when he realizes how much it sounded like he’s jumping the guns. With a soft, reassuring smile, Baekhyun puts his hand over his at the table, squeezing when Jongin returns it.

Jongin orders a hot chocolate, and Baekhyun, a salted caramel mocha. He picks some of the whipped-cream-with-caramel off the top of his drink, Jongin picks some marshmallows off his, and they feed them to each other. At some point Jongin wipes off Baekhyun’s foam moustache with his thumb, and Baekhyun melts, like caramel on hot coffee, while behind the counter, Yixing dimples like a proud mom and Minseok gags exaggeratedly.

It’s the perfect first date.

★彡

It’s only Baekhyun’s second time aboard the Andromeda Express. The walls are oddly curved because of its streamlined design. There’s an abundance of black upholstery that’s not really comfortable, including the bunks they have to slump on like dead fish during landing. Jongin, like the good boyfriend he is, gives up his window seat to Baekhyun, who watches the celestial objects suspended in space as though he’s sightseeing, or observing art.

Jongin had been surprised when Baekhyun asked that they go to his art gallery as a date. But he’d explained that he wanted to see such an important part of his boyfriend’s life, if he was willing to share it. Pleased, Jongin had blushed, giving his feet that darling smile that bunched his cheeks and pushed into his eyes.

Now, he slips his fingers through the gaps in Baekhyun’s and rests his chin on his shoulders, watching with him. Celestial objects in space. Abstract art hung up against an abundance of black.

★彡

They hire a space shuttle from the railway station to Kepler-22b. The art gallery is by far the most imposing establishment there, which is saying something- the civil engineers and astrophysicists have been working on the planet since almost a decade. The building is a work of art unto itself, an aesthetically crafted structure of aluminium and carbon fiber that is both elegant and strong.

‘It looks right out of a movie,’ exclaims Baekhyun admiringly.

‘Dad had it built, and he put everything into it,’ says Jongin softly. ‘It was his life’s work, to bring art to the Outliers.’

Baekhyun gently squeezes his bicep through the material of his coat. ‘It’s amazing what he achieved.’

The guard at the entrance (who doubles as a valet) recognizes Jongin, lets them in and takes the shuttle to the parking space. Baekhyun brings out a pun from his repertoire about parking in space, eliciting an indulgent smile and shake of the head from Jongin.

They’re intercepted by a man whose impeccable grooming is slightly intimidating. His suit is expensively tailored, his hair slicked to the side.

‘Jongin, hi!’ He blinks at Baekhyun. ‘Ooh, you got a friend along!’

‘Boyfriend,’ corrects Jongin lazily. ‘Baekhyun, this is Jongdae. He manages the gallery and customer networks. He also helps me curate artworks for it.’

Jongdae inclines his head, his expression smug.

‘Jongdae, this is Baekhyun, my boyfriend.’

Jongdae appraises him, and Baekhyun is tempted to fidget. ‘So this is the guy that you were willing to throw your job away just to hit on.’

‘I’m still overseeing things here,’ says Jongin sharply. ‘I decided to spend more time on my own happiness, is all.’ He takes Baekhyun’s hand conspicuously. ‘We have to get going. I’ll see you around.’

‘I’m sorry,’ whispers Jongin as they hurry away, ‘it’s not ill-will; he just says whatever he thinks.’

Baekhyun bites his lip. ‘It’s fine. Whose show is it?’

He’s handed the brochure with a quip. ‘Various Artists.

‘It’s art by Outliers about being Outliers. What it’s like away from Earth, what the experience does to them. We were choosy about what went in the collection, but anyone could submit- anyone who’s here for an extended period of time and can’t just up and go back on whim, that is. None of those tourists on Space Sprees,’ Jongin tells him as he peruses the list of artists who’ve contributed to the show. He doesn’t recognize the names, but then they aren’t famous; they’re ordinary Outliers, like him.

‘So only people who’ve been contracted out here?’

‘Yeah, or who can’t afford to go back for a while,’ confirms Jongin.

‘People like me…’ nods Baekhyun softly.

Jongin takes both his hands in his dramatically, so that he drops the flyer. ‘Marry me! Then you can go back with me!’

Baekhyun goes bright red and ducks to hide the fact, snatching up the flyer and using it to swat at a laughing, teasing Jongin.

★彡

Baekhyun is a little intimidated by the people art-watching. Not only by their obvious signs of wealth, but their serious silence as they move from painting to painting and seemingly glean something from them that he can’t. They can afford to come out here just for an art show, and Baekhyun badly wants to scorn them for it. They have a freedom he doesn’t. But Jongin- Jongin is also of their class, and he’s so different.

‘You don’t have to be quiet while we look at the pieces,’ Jongin says now, almost as though he’d read Baekhyun’s mind.

Wide-eyed, Baekhyun says, ‘But it’s like, I don’t know, protocol. Like the library.’

‘This is my establishment, and you’re my boyfriend,’ Jongin says smugly. ‘I make the rules.’ When Baekhyun rolls his eyes, he continues, ‘You’re not a quiet person. I’m not saying you should be loud, I’m saying you should be comfortable.’ His earnestness is endearing, and Baekhyun feels his heart do the pitfall of doom, hurtling down until it hits the ground and is lying at Jongin’s feet.

Before leading him along the first row of paintings, Jongin links arms with him, like a ballroom partner, like a prince. Baekhyun’s heart takes the crossroads where their elbows meet and returns safely to his sleeve.

★彡

They’ve been standing and staring at this one painting for several minutes. It’s a tangled mass of broad, yellow brush against a greyish teal background, but it’s strangely symmetrical- the mess is ordered into a pentagon. It’s chaos that hides orderliness, so maybe it’s talking about nature, thinks Baekhyun doubtfully. It looks like a galaxy though, like a simplistic rendering of the NGC 4696, the entropy of the gas ribbons stabilized by a core hidden among the tangle. But Jongin is looking at it as though he can see himself in its core, like he’s trapped in there, like the ribbons are really ropes- thick, strong, chafing ropes tying him up until he’s helpless and hurt.

Baekhyun guesses it’s true; they’re both trapped in space. For a moment, he’s speechless with sadness. But he wants to remove that look of despair in Jongin’s eyes, he wants to never see it again. He has to hack at the ropes with a knightly sword as though slaying a many-headed monster, then pull Jonging out of the core, rescue him from the black hole. He has to say something.

His heart slips down his sleeve, onto the polished floor, and tears itself open. Time to bleed at Jongin’s feet.

‘When I made the decision to come out here,’ begins Baekhyun, ‘…I’ve always wanted to travel, and to make my living by coffee. I thought, two birds with one stone!’ He smiles bitterly. ‘I used to look out of the window and everything was wondrous but also… devastating. Like the planets are giving me bad vibes to crumple me, this person who doesn’t belong here, who has no business being here.’

Jongin is quiet for a few moments. Baekhyun scuffs his shoes on the marble floor, afraid to look up. He hasn’t felt so vulnerable since the time Jongin told him someone had been writing cheesy messages on his coffee cups.

And then his boyfriend is holding him close, right there in public, whispering, ‘Thank you for telling me.’ He draws back and smiles gently. ‘I’ve never stopped feeling that, being out here- that beauty brings both desolation and joy.’ He kisses away the tears prickling the corners of Baekhyun’s eyes, and Baekhyun is gossamer spangled with sunlight, so weightless he could float and flutter away, so warm, his core is an exploding star.

They move on to the next painting. It’s in the inimitable style of the previous one, almost certainly by the same artist. Like the previous one, it’s unsigned. A single, broad streak sweeps across the canvas, like the exhaust flame of a rocket in a comic book, shooting over an exoplanet; like the Andromeda Express bolting by and scattering stardust (too fine to be visible, except in the imagination, except in the artist’s brush).

★彡

It'd be like touring a museum if the experience wasn’t so intimate, so personal to the viewer, thinks Baekhyun as his first time seeing an art show comes to a close. They take the shuttle to Jongin’s apartment after that, as they intend to catch the Express back to the café the next morning.

The flat is on the sixth floor of an imposing highrise, all tinted windows and scintillating silicon, complete with a shuttle pad on the terrace. From the outside, it's very sleek, very sci-fi. Inside it’s a spacious two-bedroom, unusually but tastefully furnished, hinting in some ways to Jongin being an aesthete.

‘You can go on to the bedroom,’ says Jongin, pointing to the door leading off the living room. ‘I’ll heat up some lasagna for us.’

Baekhyun shuffles into the room shyly. It’s his first time in Jongin’s bedroom… but that’s a silly thing to think because they’re not necessarily even going to do anything.

All such thoughts fly out of his head, however, when he sees a shelf against the wall, filled with coffee cups. Every cup he’s ever served Kai hot chocolate in. Every one of his scrawled messages.

Suddenly, there are arms around his waist and an alluring voice in his ear. ‘Surprised?’

When he recovers somewhat from his speechlessness, Baekhyun stammers out, ‘Y-you kept them? Right from the first one…’ It doesn’t make any sense to him. He’s so overwhelmed he could cry. He grits his teeth. ‘Why did you leave, then? For so long?’

‘I didn’t want it to not be you writing them,’ Jongin says shyly. ‘And when I… well I guess I kind of indirectly asked you if it was you. The way you reacted confused me.’ He turns Baekhyun around so that they’re almost nose to nose, making him gulp. ‘It took me a while to realize that I wanted you even if it wasn’t you writing the notes. And that I should’ve just asked you out instead of driving you into a corner,’ he continues, his gaze sincere, overwhelming Baekhyun all over again.

‘So you came back,’ murmurs Baekhyun.

‘So I came back,’ agrees Jongin. ‘And I wanted to get close to you, make you comfortable with me again after my mistake.’

Baekhyun closes the gap with a kiss, and it’s the headiest kiss they’ve shared, all promise and passion. ‘Thank you for coming back,’ he murmurs against Kai’s lips, collapsing into the sun with a fierce abandon that would be frightening if it didn’t feel so utterly inevitable- written in the stars, as it were; all those stars that (like him, like now) fuse and burn, fuse and burn.