Heaven was a place on earth.

 

At least in Baekhyun’s eyes, it was.

 

It was his best friend, Kyungsoo’s cafe, all sheer white drapes and sandy white wood.

 

The place had large bay windows from which sunlight streamed through in the mornings, lighting up the café with an ethereal glow.

 

It always smelled like coffee and baked goods, muffins, cupcakes and cookies that Kyungsoo made himself in the back kitchen, only ever coming out to fill up the display cases.

 

If he were not Baekhyun’s friend, he would never see him at all at the café.

 

A sweet barista with the prettiest dimple manned the counter most days, dressed in periwinkle sweaters or striped button-downs over which he wore a tan apron, tied neatly in the back.

 

Baekhyun liked to come in to flirt with the pretty barista.

 

He flirted back sometimes, when there were no other patrons around, indulging Baekhyun with a dimpled smile or sneaking a mini cupcake across the counter.

 

He looked ethereal too, with the sunlight touching his fair skin and dyed silver hair.

 

Baekhyun got lost in his eyes sometimes, staring across the counter as he puttered around, winking and dimpling at him.

 

The café was quiet and serene, so aptly named and it truly was Baekhyun’s heaven on earth for so many reasons.

 

It was wonderful for sketching in.

 

The patrons were usually students carrying portfolios, notebooks or laptops. They were silent in working, the only sound the occasional clink of a fork against a plate, the thump of a coffee cup being set down and the whirring of the coffee machine or milk frother as the barista worked.

 

Baekhyun always took the booth in the corner, against a panel of white sheer curtains. He brought in his sketchbooks and pencils and just watched as people trickled in.

 

Sometimes he sketched.

 

Other times he would sit there for hours just storyboarding, scribbling drafts for his comic panels or inking in a particularly difficult sketch.

 

It was all very soothing and serene.

 

“Hey, Baekhyun,” the clink of the coffee cup on the table startled him out of his sketching and he looked up to see Yixing, the café’s only barista smiling down at him.

 

He was bearing a little cup on a saucer and a few biscuits that Baekhyun was sure he had sneaked out of the back kitchen for him.

 

Kyungsoo would surely scold him for it but most people had a soft spot for Yixing.

 

He was sweet and charming if a little lost sometimes. But his pretty smile and little dimple made people forgive him quickly, even when he counted the wrong change or gave the wrong order.

 

Baekhyun smiled back up at him, setting down his pencils.

 

He also had an uncanny ability to guess when Baekhyun’s energy was waning and needed a little boost.

 

“Won’t Soo mind that you’re giving out freebies?” He asked and Yixing put a finger to his lips, the corner of his mouth lifting up just slightly.

 

“It’ll be our secret,” he nudged the coffee over to Baekhyun and the artist grinned thankfully, wrapping his fingers around the cup.

 

His skin leeched the warmth right from the cup, a little shiver of pleasure shaking through him when he took a sip.

 

Yixing always made the best coffee, the perfect balance of sweet and creamy.

 

It was late in the afternoon and there were very few patrons, which was possibly the reason why Yixing stood where he was, pretty brown eyes practically boring holes into Baekhyun’s face as he sipped his coffee.

 

“Take a picture, maybe it’ll last longer,” Baekhyun teased when he set down his cup to meet Yixing’s gaze.

 

The barista blushed and swatted at him before disappearing back behind the counter.

 

Baekhyun leaned back in his chair and sighed happily.

 

He loved Heaven like it was his own.

 

Heaven was always quiet, which was why Baekhyun was surprised when he arrived one morning to see the doors flung wide open, with people scuttling in and out of the café.

 

He stood against the red brick walls, staring in surprise as equipment like speakers and cables and strange boxes full of buttons were moved to and from a massive black van.

 

A man even snarked at him to get out of the way, which put him very out of sorts until Yixing appeared, a crease in between his brows.

 

He still had a friendly smile for Baekhyun however, and the dimple charmed the rude man enough that he stepped aside to let Baekhyun through.

 

Baekhyun heard the squealing of fangirls outside the cafe even as he stepped over the threshold, his eyes narrowing.

 

His blood ran cold when he saw who had stolen his usual table.

 

The table was not even there anymore.

 

Rather, there was a single stool with a microphone stand stood before it, a single cable running from it and into another box that Baekhyun assumed was a speaker.

 

His eyes felt as if they were deceiving him when they landed upon the figure seated on the stool, mustard yellow sweater sleeves too long for his arms.

 

His hair was dyed black again, starkly different from the light chestnut Baekhyun had last seen him in.

 

He had not seen Baekhyun yet, his eyes closed as soft piano notes floated through the air.

 

“Baekhyun,” there was a hand on his wrist, tugging him gently in the opposite direction, where there were still tables.

 

Yixing’s touch was gentle, his dark eyes full of concern when he sat Baekhyun down at a far table.

 

Baekhyun’s world felt as if it had stopped spinning, frozen in a single moment of time.

 

His mind was running back, far, far back into the past where two boys had still been best friends, curled up on a bed with mint coloured sheets.

 

Before he made a mistake, a mistake that had cost him more than he had expected it to.

 

“Baekhyun, are you okay?”

 

Yixing was pushing a cup of coffee across the table, his brows creased with worry.

 

Baekhyun stared into the curling steam, inhaling deeply.

 

“Is that…”

 

He trailed off, his gaze still fixed on that mustard yellow sweater.

 

“Chen, the nation’s vocalist? Yep,” Yixing’s brows were still furrowed when he nudged a plate of cookies across to Baekhyun, the man taking one absently.

 

“What’s he doing here?”

 

“He’s filming a music video. They contacted us about a month or two ago about it.”

 

Baekhyun exhaled shakily, sipping his head down to gaze at his coffee.

 

Suddenly, Heaven did not seem so much like Heaven anymore.

 

“Do you… know him?” Yixing asked hesitantly. He was dressed in white today, looking very much like an angel who had come from Heaven.

 

Baekhyun pulled away when he laid a pale hand over his, pretending not to see the hurt look on his friend’s face.

 

He was too preoccupied with the man in the mustard sweater.

 

“He was someone close to me,” he said softly.

 

He looked good too as if the years apart had not affected him much at all.

 

Baekhyun ducked his head when Chen opened his eyes, piercing gaze drifting across the café.

 

There were only a few people peppered around the café, most of the regulars having disappeared elsewhere to do their work.

 

And in his green coat and bright copper hair, Baekhyun was incredibly conspicuous.

 

Yixing was watching him, his eyes narrowed as a few makeup artists hurried up to Chen, flicking brushes and tissue papers.

 

The artist’s eyes drifted and Baekhyun’s fingers clenched around the hand of his coffee cup when his gaze landed on him.

 

To his credit, the man seemed as surprised as he was to see him there.

 

His voice never faltered however, when the director called to start.

 

He sounded exactly like Baekhyun remembered, soft and musical, familiarity like a warm blanket that wrapped around him.

 

Baekhyun supposed he should count himself lucky.

 

There would be many who would kill to be in his shoes right then, sitting in a cafe across from the nation’s vocalist, watching him film for his MV.

 

But he could only feel those feelings of regret and sorrow rise up within him, the emotion that he had quashed for years, kept locked away in a tiny little box.

 

He pulled out his sketchbook, trying to distract himself, even as Chen’s musical voice floated throughout the place, burrowing deep into his ears and heart.

 

Inking was always a meditative process for him and it was easy to get lost in the jet black lines, sinking into the ink that pooled at the bottom of his pen.

 

“Baekhyun?” He had not even noticed that Yixing had left until the rich voice touched his ears.

 

Thankfully, his pen was in midair, so that he did not send ink splattering everywhere when he looked up to see Chen himself, standing at his table.

 

“Jongdae,” he said stiffly, capping his pen.

 

He could feel Yixing looking over from the counter, lips twisted into a worried line.

 

“How are you?” Jongdae was smiling, that little smile that always made Baekhyun’s stomach twist into knots.

 

“Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

 

He said those words carefully as if he was not the one who had run off after shattering Baekhyun’s heart to become a singer.

 

“Well,” Baekhyun stabbed his pen back into its case with a little more force than necessary, “that’s not surprising.”

 

He slid a piece of paper between the page he was inking and slammed the book shut with enough strength for the sound to resonate through the café.

 

Yixing was looking over as if he was ready to come to his rescue.

 

Baekhyun slipped his sketchbook into his bag, hating that seeing Jongdae could still get such a rise out of him.

 

“See you around,” he bit out, circling around the table.

 

He thought he was over him.

 

Clearly he thought wrong.

 

“Hey, hey, wait,” Jongdae’s fingers closed around his wrist and Baekhyun stopped. He despised that where their skin met, he could still feel sparks.

 

“Baek, I’m sorry,” Jongdae rushed out, stumbling over his words in his haste. He did look sorry, his brows creased with worry, his lips downturned.

 

“I shouldn’t have left. And I- I definitely shouldn’t have disappeared like that.”

 

“I’m glad you know that,” Baekhyun gritted his teeth, yanking his wrist out of Jongdae’s hold.

 

He made to step away but Jongdae grabbed him again, this time by the arm.

 

“Please. I know. I don’t deserve it but will you at least meet me for coffee sometime?”

 

“What for? You’ve said all you needed to say when you left,” Baekhyun tried to get free but Jongdae held firm, his expression pleading.

 

“Anything I say now will sound like an excuse. Just let me take you out. I- I have things to say. I’ve had things to say for a while now but you changed your number and there was no way to track you down.”

 

“You didn’t try,” Baekhyun accused, “in this day and age it’s never difficult.”

 

“Unless you’re blocked from the person you’re searching for.”

 

Jongdae had a point.

 

Baekhyun had shut off any form of communication he could think off when Jongdae left, choosing to bury that part of his life in the past.

 

“You don’t need me back in your life, Jongdae,” Baekhyun tugged again and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Yixing straighten, as if ready to come over.

 

“You’re all big and famous now. You have your dream. We have nothing else to talk about.”

 

“I have to apologize, even if you don’t want to hear it.”

 

“He doesn’t,” a soft sweet voice slid into the conversation and they both turned to see Yixing standing by the table, his brown eyes firm.

 

He slid an arm around Baekhyun and Baekhyun did not miss the way Jongdae bristled.

 

“Baekhyun’s been great without you, Chen sshi. He doesn’t need you back in his life.”

 

Soft lips pressed against his cheek and Baekhyun forced down his surprise, leaning into Yixing’s side as if he was meant to be there.

 

It felt wrong somehow but it was enough for Jongdae to back down, releasing his arm slowly as if he was reluctant.

 

“I have to go.”

 

Baekhyun glanced at his watch and turned back to Yixing, reciprocating the gesture.

 

Yixing was smiling when he pulled away, the sort of smile where his dimple was showing. He traced his fingers delicately over Baekhyun’s wrist before Baekhyun was stepping around Jongdae, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

 

He did not look back to see Jongdae’s crushed expression, or Yixing’s pretty smile slide away as he walked back to the counter.

 

-

 

“Good morning, Baekhyun,” Yixing’s smile was as bright as the sun when he handed the receipt slip and Baekhyun’s change over to him.

 

His fingers trailed lightly over Baekhyun’s palm before dropping the coins into his hand.

 

“Thanks for the other day, by the way,” Baekhyun said softly.

 

The café was back to its usual proceedings, with no sign or the sound of the camera crew that had been there the day before.

 

Yixing merely dimpled at him, not meeting his gaze as he turned away to make his drink.

 

Baekhyun slid into his usual booth, inhaling the scent of coffee that clung to the room.

 

A slip of paper folded beneath the flower vase caught his eye, his name hastily scribbled onto it with a blue pen.

 

Curiosity bubbled within him and he pulled it out, unfolding it to see familiar handwriting.

 

Yixing said that you always sat here. If you could ever find it in yourself again, call this number. XXXX-XXXX I’ll always be waiting.

Signed,

Jongdae

 

A soft clink made him look up to see Yixing with his coffee cup in hand, looking impossibly soft with his silver hair and striped sweater.

 

He was bearing a plate with a chocolate muffin that Baekhyun definitely did not order.

 

“So, Jongdae huh?” Yixing said gently, pushing the coffee over the table.

 

Baekhyun dipped his head, watching his pretty fingers tap a rhythm on the table before setting down the muffin.

 

“We were best friends,” he confessed.

 

Something about Yixing’s open face made him say the words he had not thought about, aloud.

 

Yixing’s eyebrows raised but he said nothing, sliding into the seat opposite with a quick glance at the counter.

 

“I had a thing for him and he turned me down. Nicely.” He added quickly when Yixing’s jaw tensed. It was sweet how concerned Yixing was for him.

 

“I thought nothing had changed but three weeks later, he moved away. Without even a phone call or a text.”

 

“Oh, Baekhyun,” Yixing covered his hand with his own and this time, Baekhyun did not pull away.

 

He stared over Yixing’s head, his eyes unseeing.

 

“Are you going to call him?”

 

Yixing gestured to the piece of paper that Baekhyun did even realise he had crumpled until he looked down.

 

The paper was a crushed ball in his hand but Jongdae’s handwriting was still clearly visible.

 

“I don’t know,” Baekhyun said honestly.

 

And he did not.

 

Jongdae had been gone for so long that he was only a passing ache, a phantom memory in his mind.

 

He lay awake that night thinking about the number, the crumpled little ball that he had stuck into his key tray so that it would be a constant reminder.

 

Sleep was hard to come by with such thoughts so he climbed out of bed and pulled out a box from beneath his bed.

 

It had gathered much dust over the years, hidden away like Baekhyun’s feelings.

 

He opened it, staring down at the photo of Jongdae’s smiling face.

 

They were so close, an arm draped around each other, grinning at the camera.

 

He could almost hear Jongdae’s hyena laughter as they chased each other around the park.

 

Baekhyun left the number in his key tray for days and the thought of calling never left his mind.

 

He spent days in Heaven, mooching off Yixing’s free cupcakes until Kyungsoo himself had to put an end to it.

 

“If you keep sneaking him food he’ll never leave,” he threatened, waving a floury hand in Baekhyun’s direction.

 

They were the only ones in the café left, Yixing slowly closing up while Baekhyun waited for Kyungsoo to go grab dinner together.

 

“Maybe I don’t want him to leave,” Yixing winked at Baekhyun and Baekhyun stuck his tongue out in Kyungsoo’s direction.

 

“See, Soo? I’m lovable,” he snarked and Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, pulling off his apron and rinsing his hands in the sink.

 

“Sure you are. When you’re not busy moping about that bastard who broke your heart.”

 

Kyungsoo did not approve of Jongdae trying to slide back into his life.

 

He had very quietly, very seriously threatened to carve Baekhyun up like a Christmas turkey if he even thought about calling him back.

 

“You were fine without him. He doesn’t get to decide all of a sudden that he wants to be part of your life again when he was the one who left.”

 

“Isn’t that the point of him leaving his number though,” Yixing pointed out as he mopped up the counter, keeping his head down so that they could see his face.

 

“So that he can decide when he wants to let him in again.”

 

Kyungsoo seemed to have picked up something Baekhyun did not, as he patted Yixing’s shoulder when he passed.

 

“Well Baekhyun’s not an idiot, I hope,” he commented as Baekhyun rose, gathering his things.

 

“I’m not,” he argued as they left, turning round to wave goodbye to Yixing who was still closing.

 

“Yixing would be good for you, though. Much better than Jongdae ever could.”

 

“Yixing?” Baekhyun looked surprised when he slid into the passenger seat, Kyungsoo starting up the car.

 

“Have you never considered dating him?” Kyungsoo kept his eyes on the road, his expression neutral.

 

Baekhyun cocked his head to the side, thinking.

 

“I don’t do. He’s sweet but it’s only for fun.”

 

Kyungsoo shrugged.

 

“I just think he’d be good for you, that’s all.”

 

They pulled up in front of their usual bar, the host recognising them immediately.

 

“Evening, Kyungsoo sshi, Baekhyun sshi,” he bowed, holding out two menus.

 

“Evening, Junmyeon.”

 

Junmyeon sat them in front of the bar, right where they wanted to be and the bartender gave them a toothy grin, setting a whisky glass before Baekhyun, already full of whisky.

 

“What will you have tonight, Kyungsoo?” He asked, nodding at Junmyeon when he slipped the menus before them.

 

“Just an olive martini, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun flipped through the menu absently, listening to Chanyeol try to make small talk with Kyungsoo while he shook up his drink, the other stoically training his eyes on his menu.

 

Junmyeon was hovering, his iPad clutched in his hand as he waited for their orders.

 

Baekhyun privately thought that he was only standing around because it gave him an excuse to ogle Chanyeol without being blatantly obvious.

 

But it was none of his business if Junmyeon was mooning over Chanyeol.

 

He pointed to the first thing that caught his eye, the seafood pasta.

 

“I’ll have-,” the words died in his throat when he looked across at Junmyeon to see Kim Jongdae himself walk through the door, guided by a smartly dressed host.

 

He was alone, dressed simply with a cap and a mask.

 

A poor disguise but Baekhyun did not hear the fangirls which meant it was successful.

 

And he was headed straight for the bar they were sitting at.

 

“You’ll have?” Junmyeon’s brow crinkled and he turned in the direction that Baekhyun was looking at.

 

Baekhyun dropped his gaze down immediately.

 

“Seafood pasta. I’ll have the seafood pasta.”

 

Junmyeon frowned and tapped at his iPad distractedly.

 

“And Kyungsoo sshi?”

 

Kyungsoo was staring at Baekhyun with a concerned look on his face, pointing to the steak.

 

“That, medium rare, thank you.”

 

Baekhyun sneaked a look, fingers curling over the menu.

 

Jongdae was still walking his way, chatting with the host. He had not seen him yet.

 

“Bathroom. I’m going to the bathroom,” Baekhyun slid off his seat, fleeing before Kyungsoo could say anything.

 

The bathroom was in a dark corner, secluded enough that he could see Jongdae seat himself right beside his empty seat, leaning across the counter to smile at Chanyeol.

 

He was startled to see a large hand slide around Jongdae’s waist and Jongdae evidently was shocked too.

 

He jerked out of his seat, spinning around to look up into the face of a very handsome man.

 

Baekhyun watched as Jongdae whacked him hard, scowling when the man merely laughed, scooping him up into a hug.

 

A worm of jealousy niggled in his chest and he slipped back into the bathroom to rinse his face.

 

Why was he still so affected?

 

Jongdae should not matter anymore. He was the one who left.

 

Baekhyun was in control.

 

Baekhyun stared into the mirror at himself, haphazardly arranging his white jacket.

 

Inhaling deeply, he stuck his hands into his pockets and strode out of the bathroom, determined to keep his composure.

 

Junmyeon was still standing close to their seats when he reappeared, his eyes drifting occasionally to the animated Chanyeol behind the bar.

 

“Are you alright?” He asked gently when Baekhyun returned and Baekhyun nodded, sliding back into his seat, praying and hoping that Jongdae would not notice him.

 

No such luck.

 

“Baekhyun?”

 

Jongdae’s surprise was palpable, given that they were sitting so close their shoulders brushed.

 

“Hi,” Baekhyun muttered, dropping his eyes when Kyungsoo looked over, his expression murderous.

 

He squeezed his friend’s hand in warning before sinking as low as he could into his seat.

 

Jongdae was still staring as if he could not quite believe his luck.

 

His friend cleared his throat loudly and Jongdae made a sound.

 

“Oh, um, this is Jongin. He’s a friend from work,” he said awkwardly and Baekhyun waved stiffly, fervently wishing he could be anywhere else.

 

“Hi! Baekhyun right? Jongdae’s told me so much about you!” Jongin was bright and lively and he had the face and body of a supermodel.

 

“He has?” Baekhyun looked up from trying to burn a hole in the counter with his eyes in surprise.

 

“Yes! He’s told me about all the things you got up to when you were kids and it was hilarious.”

 

“Well,” Baekhyun slid his eyes over to Jongdae, who looked as if he was the one who wanted to disappear now.

 

“I’m glad you enjoyed the stories.”

 

Kyungsoo muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a threat and Baekhyun pinched him, glaring.

 

“How are you?” Jongdae asked when Jongin turned away to order himself a drink and Baekhyun shrugged.

 

“Doing fine, I guess.”

 

“Not that that’s any of your business,” Kyungsoo slipped in and Jongdae’s face pinked.

 

“Soo,” Baekhyun said warningly and his friend turned away, glowering into his martini.

 

Junmyeon reappeared, seafood pasta in hand.

 

He patted Baekhyun’s shoulder before he left, dragging his eyes up to glance in Chanyeol’s direction before vanishing.

 

Baekhyun stabbed his fork into his noodles, trying desperately to ignore the heat radiating from Jongdae’s shoulder.

 

He could feel the other man looking over, as if he wanted to say something but could not find the words but he kept up mindless chatter with Kyungsoo, mindful of Jongdae’s occasional glances.

 

“How’s Yixing?” Jongdae asked when Kyungsoo got up for the bathroom, not without shooting a warning glare in Jongdae’s direction.

 

“Fine?” Baekhyun’s tone rose up as if in question and he cursed himself.

 

Jongdae arched an eyebrow.

 

“The two of you looked cosy together and you don’t know how he is?”

 

Baekhyun rolled his eyes, his shoulders stiffening.

 

“It’s not any of your business what we are. You have no part in my life anymore, Jongdae. Don’t try to insert yourself where you’re not wanted.”

 

Jongdae paled and looked away, snatching up the shot glass that Chanyeol had just set down before Jongin.

 

His friend looked at him in shock when he gulped down the shot, setting the glass back onto the table.

 

Baekhyun turned back to his pasta, only to find that he had lost his appetite.

 

With a disgusted sound, he sipped his whisky, cursing his bad luck.

 

“Do you want to leave?” Kyungsoo appeared at his shoulder, brows furrowed in concern and Baekhyun nodded.

 

His stomach was twisted up in knots as Kyungsoo grabbed the bill, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly as he downed the rest of his whisky before grabbing his wallet.

 

Jongdae was watching him as they left, he knew.

 

He could feel his eyes boring into his back.

 

The whisky burned, lighting his insides on fire when he gulped it down, but it was the good burn.

 

It blurred the world a little, made his mind fuzzy enough that he could get up and leave without the stone of guilt dragging him down.

 

“I’m sorry that ruined dinner,” he apologized softly when they left, Kyungsoo only shaking his head.

 

“It’s alright. Just take your time alright?”

 

Baekhyun did take time.

 

He did not return to Heaven for a little while, choosing instead to sit at home and sketch.

 

But all the sketches turned out looking like Jongdae. And it did not help when he went to fill them in with colour, that he could only see the stark mustard yellow against sheer white curtains.

 

He tried to get it out of his system by sketching a full drawing of Jongdae, complete with his microphone and mustard sweater, but it only served to worsen the ache in his heart.

 

When he did return to Heaven, it was a week later.

 

Yixing was leaning over the counter, blatantly reading when he stepped in.

 

In the week that had passed, he had dyed his hair dark and left it flopping his eyes.

 

The little bell rang and he looked up, dimpling when he saw him.

 

It instantly made him feel a million times better.

 

“Baekhyun,” he greeted, smiling so brightly that Baekhyun has to smile back, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

 

“Are you well?” He chattered as he counted out change for Baekhyun’s usual, “I’ve missed you.”

 

Baekhyun scanned the coins when he dropped them in and pushed two back.

 

“I’m perfectly great! And you’ve given me extra, Xing.”

 

“Oh! Oops! Too distracted,” the barista kept looking over even as Baekhyun walked away to his usual seat, his smile never dimming.

 

Baekhyun inhaled the fresh coffee scent in the air as he opened his sketchbook, absently doodling sketches of Yixing pottering about behind the counter.

 

He did not miss the glances the man sent his way until the coffee was done.

 

“That’s really good,” Yixing said happily when he set the coffee on the table, leaning over to admire the doodle that Baekhyun had made of him standing by the coffee machine.

 

“Thank you,” he smiled.

 

His smile slipped when he saw another slip of paper beneath the blue vase on his table, his name neatly printed on it.

 

Yixing noticed him looking and his bright smile slipped a little.

 

“That’s been there for a week now. He came in to leave it there. I made sure the booth was always empty for you.”

 

Baekhyun pulled it out and Yixing stepped away, patting his arm gently.

 

“Don’t be too hard on him, maybe. He looked so miserable when he came in.”

 

That was so Yixing, always seeing the best in people. Baekhyun nodded absently, already unfolding the paper.

 

I’m sorry. :( I didn’t think you would be at the bar and I shouldn’t have said what I said. You’re right. It’s your business and I was wrong.

I’m really sorry, Baekhyun.

Jongdae

 

Baekhyun smoothed his fingers over the writing.

 

He could not deny that just seeing Jongdae’s handwriting sent a jolt through him.

 

The fact that he cared enough to write notes to try and reach him was throwing him off.

 

Was he truly over Jongdae if the very thought of him sitting at his table scribbling notes to him made a little thrill shoot through him?

 

The bell tinkled and he looked up, reeling back in shock to see Jongdae’s model friend, Jongin step through the doors, closely followed by Jongdae himself.

 

Baekhyun scrunched into the seat when Jongdae glanced over at his booth hopefully, his eyes lighting up when he saw him.

 

But he did not come over, standing by Jongin’s side as the man took his sweet time to order.

 

He was clearly fascinated by Yixing and in the quiet café, his words carried clearly.

 

“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

 

It was incredibly amusing to watch Yixing turn pink, his eyes flickering in Baekhyun’s direction as if hoping he was watching.

 

“I-, how can I help you?”

 

“You could help by giving me a band-aid, angel. I scraped my knees falling for you.”

 

Baekhyun covered his mouth, stifling his laughter.

 

Jongin was leaning over the counter, his lips curled into a confident smirk and Yixing was very visibly flustered, his eyes darting from him to Baekhyun frantically.

 

“I meant- uh, drink?” He stuttered, fingers curled around the counter.

 

“I’d love to have a drink with you,” Jongin winked and Yixing’s cheeks went even redder, the barista blowing out a puff of air as if that would help cool his heated cheeks.

 

“He’ll have the caramel macchiato, Yixing. I’ll take the latte with cream, thank you.”

 

It seemed that Jongdae found his friend’s lines amusing as well, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he shoved Jongin away from the counter so that he could pay for his drinks.

 

Baekhyun saw Yixing turn his gaze towards him cautiously and he flapped his hand, hoping that he would take the hint that he was very alright.

 

“Your name is Yixing? It’s a lovely name,” Jongin said and Yixing ducked his head, his cheeks a lovely rosy red.

 

Baekhyun felt his heart skip a beat when Jongdae met his eyes from across the café, his curly lips upturned. He shook his head lightly, pointing at Jongin and Baekhyun covered his mouth to stifle a giggle.

 

God, he was not over him, was he?

 

Yixing was collecting bills from Jongin now, so flustered that he nearly dropped half of them onto the counter.

 

It seemed that the model was determined to get a rise out of him, fingers grazing against his palm when a coin rolled out onto the counter.

 

“I- Take a seat, I’ll call when your drinks are ready,” he kept his eyes on his register, lower lip caught in his teeth. He looked so incredibly endearing like that that Baekhyun could not help his smile.

 

“How can you call if you don’t know my name?”

 

Yixing’s eyes flickered up a little.

 

“I’ll call Jongdae sshi,” he said, a tiny smile curving on his lips. His dimple flashed and Baekhyun could see the exact moment Jongin fell for him.

 

“Well-, um,” he stumbled, clearly thrown, “I’m Jongin by the way.”

 

Yixing’s eyes widened a fraction and he ducked his head.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Kim Jongin.”

 

With that, he turned back around to prepare the drinks and Jongdae was pulling Jongin away.

 

He did not, however, drag him into Baekhyun’s booth.

 

Instead, they sat at a table not too far away, such that Baekhyun had a clear view of Jongdae’s face, smiling brightly in Jongin’s direction.

 

“God, he’s beautiful,” Jongin commented dreamily and Baekhyun covered his mouth with a laugh.

 

“Did you see his dimple? My lord, I’ve worked with so many beautiful people and I’ve never met anyone quite like him.”

 

Who would have thought that the great Kim Jongin would fall at the sight of a dimple?

 

Jongdae’s eyes flickered to him briefly and Baekhyun ducked his head back to his sketchbook.

 

He sketched absently, ignoring the glaring comic he was supposed to ink.

 

When he looked down, a jolt stuttered through him when he realised that he had drawn Jongdae’s smiling face.

 

Baekhyun looked up again where Yixing was standing by their table, carefully setting down their orders.

 

His cheeks were pink and it seemed that Jongin was flirting again.

 

“So, Kim Jongin?” Baekhyun teased when he finally managed to escape to his table, completely blind to the longing looks Jongin shot him from his own table.

 

He flopped down in the chair opposite him, his cheeks still glaringly red.

 

“I-, he’s handsome?” Yixing stuttered, pretty eyes roving over Baekhyun’s face. He reached across the table and out of the corner of his eye, Baekhyun could see Jongdae tense when Yixing took his hand.

 

“But I already have someone else in mind.”

 

Yixing’s tone was soft, hopeful and Baekhyun’s smile wilted.

 

He did not want to disappoint him, nor hurt their friendship but he knew deep down in his heart that he was not over Jongdae.

 

Even the years apart could not dampen his aching love.

 

Yixing could read his answer in his eyes, it seemed, as he drew back immediately, smile slipping away.

 

“I can wait,” he said gently, “I’ve already waited so long.”

 

“Kim Jongin seems terribly taken with you,” Baekhyun hated how his courage failed him, picking up his cup so that he could hide behind it.

 

Yixing ducked his head shyly, his cheeks rosy.

 

It seemed as if he wanted to say something else but Kyungsoo was emerging from the kitchen, looking hassled.

 

Yixing leapt up from his seat immediately, scuttling back behind the counter when Kyungsoo levelled him with a death glare.

 

The baker poured himself a cup of coffee, his brows knitted into a narrowed glare when he passed Jongdae’s table to sit himself down in front of Baekhyun.

 

“Bread giving you trouble?”

 

Baekhyun knew that look.

 

Kyungsoo rarely ever left the kitchen but the bread must really be giving him a headache for him come out for a drink and a break.

 

Yixing reappeared with a dark chocolate muffin which he pushed in Kyungsoo’s direction before disappearing back behind the counter.

 

Kyungsoo took an angry bite of his muffin, glaring at it with the fury of a thousand suns and Baekhyun raised his eyebrows.

 

“Wow, the bread is really giving you trouble.”

 

“What’s he doing here?” His friend asked instead, turning to glare at Jongdae’s table.

 

Jongdae had seen him looking and Baekhyun snickered to himself when he saw the man seem to shrink under his gaze.

 

“Having a coffee with a friend?”

 

He offered, stirring his coffee absently.

 

“Seems to me he just wanted to see if you got his note. You know, Yixing can’t keep saving your seat for you. We have business to do,” Kyungsoo said, prodding at his muffin once more.

 

“I know you love me,” Baekhyun scoffed.

 

Kyungsoo leaned over the table to peek at his sketchbook and Baekhyun felt his cheeks flush when his friend caught a glimpse of Jongdae’s face sketched hastily on the page before he slammed it shut.

 

“Don’t peek! I hate it when anyone looks.”

 

Kyungsoo sat back down, his eyebrows raised.

 

But the only thing he said was, “be careful, Baekhyun.”

 

Later that night, Baekhyun laid awake on his couch, the television playing an Avengers movie in the background as he toyed with the first note that he received, the numbers on the page taunting him.

 

He traced his fingers over the writing, deciding to finally bite the bullet.

 

Rolling over, he reached for his phone.

 

Can we talk?

 

-

 

They met at a different café, one that did not hold so many memories.

 

The coffee did not taste as good as the one that Yixing made, a tad too bitter, even with the sugar and cream he added in, but it did well to calm his nerves.

 

Jongdae had gotten something cold and the ice cubes clinked when he set it down.

 

Baekhyun’s eyes followed the droplets the condensation made on the glass, absently stirring his coffee round and round in the cup.

 

They sat in silence for a bit, Jongdae sipping his latte and Baekhyun’s spoon knocking gently into the ceramic cup when he stirred it.

 

“Baekhyun, I-,” Jongdae broke the silence first. He had not taken his eyes from Baekhyun’s face from the moment they met, as if he could not believe that he was sitting right there before him.

 

“I’m sorry,” he stumbled, fingers curled around his glass. Baekhyun could see that his fingers had turned white from the cold.

 

“Why did you leave?” He asked, tapping his fingers on the table.

 

Jongdae ducked his head, guilt written all over his face.

 

“I-, I don’t know. I was conflicted?” The end of his sentence trailed up into the air as if he was unsure.

 

“You rejected me. I didn’t think there was any conflict,” Baekhyun pointed out, raising an eyebrow and Jongdae winced.

 

“I know. I just-, I didn’t know what you would think after or how we could recover.”

 

“You didn’t have faith in our friendship.”

 

Jongdae cringed even harder, his eyes practically burning a hole into the table at this point.

 

“I’m sorry. Nothing I say will make what I did right. I tried to contact you after Jongin slapped some sense into me but uh, you already moved?”

 

Baekhyun had indeed moved.

 

He could not bear to stay in the same home where he and Jongdae had shared so many memories as neighbours and as friends, could not bear the fact that Jongdae had not thought their friendship worth staying for.

 

So he changed his number and moved away.

 

To here, where Heaven was.

 

He built himself an entirely new life without Jongdae in it only for him to come crashing back in like the cyclone he always had been.

 

“I looked for you, Baek. I really did,” Jongdae hung his head, his eyes flickering only briefly to meet his. He sounded so earnest that Baekhyun believed him.

 

Jongdae had never been very good at lying.

 

“You shouldn’t have left without a word. I thought you hated me, even though you rejected me so sweetly,” Baekhyun said stiffly. He was merely stating facts, unsure of what he truly wanted.

 

Did he want Jongdae back in his life? Some part of him must have or he would not have texted that number.

 

“No, no! Baekhyun, I could never hate you. Not over something like this,” Jongdae rushed to assure him, nearly spilling his drink.

 

“Okay,” Baekhyun sat back in his chair, “so what did you want? You wanted me to text you. You were looking for me before we met by accident. What were you going to do when you found me?”

 

Jongdae scratched at the wood grain of the table, his shoulders shrugging.

 

“I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d get so far. I think I wanted your forgiveness and back into your life.”

 

Baekhyun tapped the table absently, a finger over his coffee cup handle.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever stopped loving you,” he said softly.

 

He felt Jongdae’s eyes leap from the table to look at him as if someone had electrocuted him.

 

“Baekhyun, I- I don’t-. Are you not with Yixing?”

 

Baekhyun shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 

“I think he likes me though,” he swirled his coffee in the cup, watching the brown liquid turn into a mini whirlpool, “But my feelings for him are anything but romantic.”

 

“Oh,” little candle flames of hope flickered to life in Jongdae’s eyes.

 

“I- well, can we maybe, be friends again?” He squeaked and Baekhyun stopped fiddling with his spoon.

 

He scratched at the wooden table, eyes fixed on Jongdae’s hopeful face.

 

“You really hurt me when you left,” he said quietly and he could almost see the fire die in Jongdae’s eyes.

 

Jongdae cringed back in his seat, wrapping his fingers around his glass, dripping water all over his fingers as he stared down at the table.

 

“But I know you, Jongdae. I forgive you.”

 

Jongdae’s smile was tiny, but Baekhyun’s heart still skipped a beat at the sight.

 

God, he was so whipped for him.

 

“I still have a little thing for you,” he said quickly but the smile on Jongdae’s face only widened, as if he was happy and perhaps, a little more hopeful at the admission.

 

Perhaps one day they could be something more than friends, judging by the look in Jongdae’s eyes, the relief painted all over his face.

 

He really would be a terrible liar.

 

And Baekhyun was grateful for it.

 

“Friends?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

 

Jongdae was grinning, his curly lips pulled upwards in the sweetest smile as he leaned across the table, gripping Baekhyun’s hand like a lifeline.

 

“Friends.”

 

-

 

The bell in Heaven tinkled sweetly and Baekhyun smiled as he inhaled the freshly brewed coffee scent in the air.

 

Yixing was behind the counter, still hounded by Jongin. He was hiding a smile as he poured frothed milk into a latte cup, his cheeks pink from Jongin’s charms.

 

One of these days, he will cave.

 

He looked up in Baekhyun’s direction and dimpled, waving.

 

Baekhyun waved back as he headed to his booth, trusting Yixing to remember his usual order.

 

He spread his sketchbook out and got to inking, tracing black lines around faded graphite.

 

The face that smiled up at him from his sketchbook was soft and familiar and a mirror image to the man that stood before his table when he raised his eyes.

 

Dressed in a mustard yellow sweater, Jongdae looked exactly like he had a year ago when he had crashed landed back into Baekhyun’s life.

 

This time, however, he was leaning over the table and Baekhyun was rising up to meet him, lips pressing against the curled corner of his lips.

 

“Hey,” he whispered as Jongdae slid into the seat before him.

 

A coffee cup clinked onto the table and he took it, nodding his head in thanks.

 

“I didn’t want to take Yixing away from Jongin so I brought it over,” the singer said and Baekhyun glanced over to see, Jongin almost completely sprawled over the counter, murmuring sweet nothings to Yixing, whose cheeks were pinker than he had ever seen them.

 

“I’m glad you’re home,” Baekhyun replied, sliding his hand over for Jongdae to take. His skin was warm and familiar and their hands slotted together like they were made for each other.

 

“I’m glad too,” Jongdae murmured, the corners of his eyes crinkling when Baekhyun leaned over to kiss him again, in the middle of the café called Heaven.