Universe Cafe is a pretty establishment situated on the corner overlooking a three-way intersection in the artsy area of the city. As such, it’s built in a vaguely triangular shape with the front door on the more east-ish wall. The point has windows and a bench so narrow only a seasonal plant that often dies at the end of its season sits beneath a mobile of the planets.

The main area is open and spacious. Tables and chairs are dot the floors and arc around the service counter and glass display of sweets. A cooler offers bottled drinks near the register.

At the far end, the widest part of the triangle, is a raised platform with a beat-up baby grand piano, sofas, bookshelves, and side tables that can be pulled close as used for laptops or games.

Across the entire ceiling is a multicolor mural of a swirling pink and purple nebula. The paint is layered so think some areas appear black and make the pinpricks of white stars all the more apparent. The artist planned the mural to incorporate the recessed speakers and lighting as inconspicuously as possible, and the end result is pleasant and impressive.

Once upon a time, someone managed to stick glow-in-the-dark stickers of stars and moons on the ceiling over the raised sitting area. No one bothered to remove them. They’re one of the best things about the place, in Yixing’s opinion, but he knows the person who put them on the ceiling and may have been the one to allow it, one late night just after closing.

It’s just a nice place to work. His boss is flexible and understanding, so throughout university and interviews, Yixing juggled months of full and part-time hours without a lot of fuss. His coworkers are good people, ranging in age from high school to retirement.

He even likes his customers and may not have the best memory, but he’s been working long enough to recognize the locals who frequent the cafe enough to be considered regulars. As creatures of habit, they order the same drink every time, and Yixing remembers that.

The Cat’s Meow, boasting feline companions available for adoption, is run by a Korean man. Minseok enjoys the darkest roast cappuccino available. It’s a drink too bitter for Yixing, but it smells nice. Behind his building is a long, three-story office building serving as the China branch of a Korean company. Joonmyun and Sehun, to avoid getting fur on their suits, come to the Universe and order iced drinks regardless of weather. Joonmyun likes the salted caramel latte while Sehun prefers a sweeter, more traditional iced americano.

Professor Lu Han, with a taste for the more sour blonde roast coffee, dragged his coworker along one day, and now Yifan comes with or without him for a vanilla latte.

Once they walk in, Yixing immediately starts their drink. The only variation is the occasional treat, which are made in-house throughout the day.

There’s one semi-regular who started coming in April. He always wears a mask; Yixing worries he has bad allergies. He likes the stranger, though, because he rarely orders the same thing. He first works his way through the posted menu, if he’s already tried the proposed drink special of the day, then asks for recommendations or suggestions.

Today again, he’s wearing a face mask with a cute cartoon cat smile on it.

“Name?”

“JD.”

“Jaydee?”

“The English letters. JD.”

Yixing nods. “I’ll be done in a minute. Please sit.”

The man’s eyes squint with his unseen smile. It still looks charming to Yixing.

He combines pre-made toffee nut syrup and espresso shots and sets it aside to steam milk into a metal pitcher. Once it just about doubles in size, he pours it into his syrup and espresso mixture and stirs it gently until it’s an even brown. He tops it with whipped cream, sprinkles some chopped nuts atop that, and finally pops a lid on it. The cup skitters across the counter but doesn’t spill. “Enjoy the day.”

“Thank you.” He pulls his mask down just enough to get the straw in his mouth. “It’s very good; thanks again!”

Yixing smiles and bows as the man leaves. He’s always very nice and polite when he comes in. It’s appreciated, working in the service industry. As much as Yixing likes people, he often doesn’t like their attitude. He knows he’s not all that quick on the uptake, but some people can just be plain mean.

But he’ll forgive a bad day now and then.

A week and a half later brings his mysterious patron back in his free pass bad mood.

“Hello!” Yixing greets brightly. “What can I get you?” One of these days, he’ll figure out this guy’s signature drink. Everyone has one, in his experience.

Squinting at the sign, the man scowls behind his mask and ducks deeper into his hood. “Whatever will make me not strangle my boss,” he mumbles. Yixing barely understands his words, but his posture and narrowed eyes enunciate the point.

“I know just the thing. Be right back.” He doesn’t bother asking for a name; there’s no line.

The man walks down the counter to cross his arms over the pick-up area. A couple of the scant seated patrons cast looks his way, which he ignores. A magazine left by a coworker sits nearby; he flips through it and finds and article to glower at.

Yixing doesn’t dress up the drink at all. It’s simple--and best in its purest form.

He secures a lid on the cardboard cup and sets it at the corner of the magazine, where it’s immediately seen and cautiously taken. “Careful,” he says, “it’s hot.”

“Speak for yourself...” The man mumbles and pulls his mask down to smell the drink and slowly sip it. “What do I owe you?”

“Nothing. It’s on me. Just drink it.”

“What’s in it?” He keeps drinking it. His shoulders loosen and fall leisurely.

“Peppermint for alertness and chamomile for relaxation. My grandma has something better, but we don’t serve it here.”

“My grandma has something, too. I should call her,” he says to himself more than to Yixing, but he smiles and nods politely. “Thanks a lot.”

Yixing flips through the magazine. The cover shows a close portrait of a popular singer-model, Kim Jongdae. He’s heard the man’s music in passing and admires his strong voice and stage presence. He’s very handsome, too, with nontraditional features including a cute natural curve to the corners of his mouth that just make him look very likeable. A younger coworker shamelessly pines and spends a good portion of her paycheck on physical albums, fanmeets, and merchandise that she likes to show off to Yixing. He indulges her; her enthusiasm is cute.

For Christmas, she had bought everyone face masks and lip balms endorsed by Kim Jongdae.

“He’s been a brand ambassador for years,” she informs proudly. “It’s quality stuff; my friends all use it. Too bad it’s so expensive… But it’s totally worth it, because the sales show how dedicated his fans are! Even international fans are buying the stuff he endorses; his last album was number one on the iTunes Top Albums chart in thirty-three countries!”

Months later, she giddily hangs a banner with another coworker and their friend as they share their expectations for JD’s new mini album. Fitting the autumn season, his tracks are emotion-driven ballads and sentimental melodies. The banner is for the singer’s birthday later in the month. A few customers stick their own greetings and drawings around it.

Their manager draws the line at pushing a table beneath the banner for offerings, firmly stating he’s not hosting an altar for the singer, no matter how heavenly and other-worldly the celebrity may be.

Yixing is working another closing shift, covering for a couple students putting in more time for a test. It’s quiet; he saw the last customers--a couple of lovely older ladies--to the door half and hour ago and has been staring off into the space scene painted on the ceiling.

The bell on the door jingles, and Yixing looks over with a smile that grows when he sees the familiar masked stranger poke his head inside.

“Are you open?”

“Yes. It’s always slow, now. I close in about another half an hour. Come in.” Yixing walks around the counter and pulls the shades closed. He likes to discourage the stragglers at night. There are late-night coffee shops nearby; they won’t starve for their last hits of caffeine. He gets paid regardless of the number of customers.

He returns behind the counter, and smiles, poised with a mug in hand. “What can I get you?”

“Pumpkin spice latte.” He unwinds his scarf, letting it hang over his neck, and pulls the elastic of his mask from behind his ears. “I don’t mind buying into the seasonal hype, as long as it tastes good.”

Yixing has made enough pumpkin spice drinks to feel confident in making another with his eyes shut. For the customer’s sake, though, he keeps his eyes open and tops a tall ceramic mug with a flourish of whipped topping. He places it neatly and turns it so the handle is to his left. When it’s near closing time, and he’s serving the last few people, he shows off a little or is more individually attentive.

He straightens with a soft smile and stares. “You look very familiar.” That’s not what he meant to say, but it’s true. Catty or foxy features, double moles beneath an eyebrow and copy-pasted closer to his hairline, a genial smile.

“I have been here before.” He smiles, teasing.

Maybe if his hair was off his face, so he could focus on his features, Yixing could remember. He’s usually pretty good at recognizing people, especially if they’re frequent customers. Looking over his shoulder, to the birthday banner and sticky notes with messages for JD, Yixing ah has. “You look like that idol.”

The man turns his head, then twists to face the banner fully. He grins over his shoulder. “There’s a good reason for that, too: He’s me. Or I’m him. Whatever.”

“Oh.” That explains it. They’ve all entertained their coworker’s starry-eyed crush for over a year, now. “My coworker is a big fan.”

“I’ve noticed.” He faces the counter again and tucks his feet onto the horizontal brace of the stool. “She was at my fanmeet this week; she’s very sweet.” Noticing Yixing’s raised eyebrows, the singer shrugs. “For as often as I’ve been here, I’m kinda familiar with you guys. I take it she’s responsible for the homemade banner.”

“Yes. She and her friends made it here after school.”

“That’s nice. I like the glitter.” He delicately dabs a fingertip on the whipped topping and wipes a piece of golden glitter onto a napkin. Glitter gets everywhere; he’s very familiar with the phenomenon.

Yixing cleans up behind the counter, not ignoring JD but not paying a lot of attention, either. He figures the singer will finish his drink and leave, but he’s still there after Yixing is done with the machines.

“Are you not busy?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he laughs.

“No… It’s just you’ve never stayed in before, and aren’t idols busy all the time?”

JD sighs, slouching sideways against the counter. “Even when my schedule’s free, I’m still working, so you’re not wrong. My flight leaves in a few hours for a photoshoot in Hawaii. Then China for a fanmeet and concert. Thailand for a benefit. All promoting my comeback this month.” He looks miserable for all of ten seconds before smiling. “It’s a part of the job. My manager and crew travels with me; I think they have it harder.”

Yixing can’t imagine. He’s not much of one for traveling. Vacation is nice, but there’s no place like home. He tries to return whenever he gets a chance.

“Does that piano work?” JD is staring at the far end of the cafe. The piano is in semi-darkness; Yixing has turned off the back lights to admire the glowing stickers.

“It does. I like to play it at the end of my shift, like now.” He turns the OPEN sign to CLOSED. Ending a little early won’t hurt. He’s noticed the tightness around the singer’s eyes a couple times, now. Maybe he’s overstepping, but he likes to think his meddling helps people, sometimes.

JD some cream from his lip, eyebrows pinching together over his nose. “Locking me in?”

Yixing waves a hand, gesturing for the man to follow him.“My boss doesn’t mind if I stay and play the piano.”

“Is it alright if I stay, too?” He brings his latte and stands behind Yixing as he sits at the piano. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I won’t tell, if you won’t.” Yixing smiles. “Don’t worry. He likes me too much to fire me.” There are a couple books of music plus sheets some customers have brought in and left, but Yixing doesn’t grab anything. He never learned to read them, but he can play by ear and has heard some songs often enough to have them memorized.

“Is this my song?”

“Probably. I told you, my coworker’s a fan. She likes to control the music when she’s here.”

JD just smiles and sits on the sofa near the piano. His mug sits loosely between his hands, hanging over his lap.

“If I fall asleep, you have to wake me up, okay? Or I’ll tell my manager it’s your fault. He doesn’t like you enough to not get you fired.”

“Okay.” Yixing’s not worried.

They keep the lights off. Yixing watches the keys as he plays; JD watches the glowing stars and moons, the only witnesses in the calm of their shared universe.

a/n: Written for XingDae Cafe fest round one. (prompt no.19030 Yixing's worked opening shift at Universe Cafe every day for the past two months, so he knows his regulars and their orders by heart. For Minseok, the owner of the cat cafe down the block, a dark roast cappuccino. For Junmyeon and Sehun, the office workers in the KimCorp building across the street, an iced caramel latte and an iced americano. For Han and Kris, both university professors, a blonde roast with cream and sugar and a vanilla latte. And then there's JD. His only regular who never orders the same thing, who always comes in wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap and a big hoodie, the only regular whose face Yixing has never fully seen - just the way his lips curl into a smile when he removes his face mask and takes a sip of his coffee.)

This is the sort of prompt that would look so much better as a comic. I only really realized that after I started writing and got stuck, but I tried. The one and only solo mod knows I struggled, and they were patient. I hope the prompter enjoys this, even though Jongdae never even introduces himself... (Yixing probably knows his name, though. Any fan worth their salt knows the name of their idol.)