Donghae does, in fact, become a regular. He comes every weekday (and maybe weekends, too, but Hyukjae wouldn’t know), just as the morning rush dies down and there’s no one left in the shop. Hyukjae can’t quite decide if he’s pleased or horrified by this, because, on one hand, it's always nice to see Donghae, but on the other Hyukjae doesn't know how much more his heart can take. 

They don't interact much beyond polite 'please,' 'thank you,' and 'no problem' when Donghae orders and when he returns his mug. That doesn't stop Hyukjae from a very slow and very painful descent into madness from his unending yearning.

It's the little things, over the course of the next two weeks or so of seeing Donghae every day that pushes Hyukjae closer and closer towards insanity. Things like seeing Donghae hold the door for several people coming in before and after him, or when he once spent almost twenty minutes cooing over another customer's baby.

Hyukjae can't help but think that he's found perfection in human form. 

But he still struggles to really form any kind of coherent thought around the man other than ‘ooh, pretty,’ or ‘wow, please marry me,’ or the worst one of them all ‘you could step on my face and I’d thank you.’ That particular thought had popped into his mind after Donghae had walked in with a slim-fitting white turtleneck, hair falling into his eyes. He had choked on his own spit when he had that thought and spent a humiliating thirty seconds or so coughing and catching his breath. 

Thankfully, Donghae didn’t do anything more then ask if he was okay. To which Hyukjae barely managed to answer. 

So yeah, the past two weeks have been… interesting to say the least. He has no doubt if Yesung was allowed to, he would have pulled up a chair and a bucket of popcorn every time Donghae walked in the door. Instead, his friend (read: worst enemy) settled for quietly snickering, and then mercilessly making fun of him when they weren’t at work. 

His desperate pining with no progress comes to a head on a Friday, more than three weeks after Donghae first walked into the coffee shop. 

The morning had been more hectic than usual, with Hyukjae scrambling to keep up with orders. There are quite a few people in line when Donghae enters, so Hyukjae only gives him a precursory glance until he gets to the cash register to order. That’s when Hyukjae actually catches sight of the man’s face and is shocked by just how down the man looks. It’s such a complete contrast to Donghae’s usually light-hearted attitude, that Hyukjae is a little taken aback.

He listens to Donghae order his customary latte, concerned by how hoarse the other man’s voice sounds. But there are too many people in line for him to actually talk to Donghae, so all he can do is get to work making the drink.

Hyukjae pours the steamed milk into the cup, mixing it with the espresso in the mug. He shoots a glance over at Donghae, who is standing off to the side. Hyukjae can't help but notice that the other man’s eyes are slightly red-rimmed, as if he'd been crying not long before he'd come into the store.

Hyukjae looks down at his finished drink and then back to Donghae, who's air of misery seems to permeate through the air. He bites his lip before he grabs the post-it note pad sitting under the cashier as well as a pen. He shoots a glance at Donghae before he begins to write:

Dear Donghae,

I love your coat! Hope it's as cozy as it looks.

Your friendly barista,
Hyukjae :)

He puts the pen down and rips the sticky note off the pad. He hesitates before he sticks it on the mug. This is a potentially terrible idea. He doesn't even know this person, he's just a regular in the coffee shop Hyukjae has a teeny tiny (pathetic) crush on.

But then he catches sight of Donghae's impossibly sad eyes, figure hunched over in a posture that somehow screams defeated.

He looks down at his note and sticks it to the side of the mug. 

"Donghae," Hyukjae calls softly. Donghae glances up at him, eyes even redder than it had been moments before.

"Oh," he mutters. "Thanks." He takes the cup and shuffles off to his seat in the back corner. Hyukjae frowns as he watches the other man leave, wanting desperately to ask if the man was okay, but knew it wasn't really his place to do so. 

He just hopes his note serves to cheer Donghae up and not creep him out. That would defeat the purpose. 

When he gets the cup back, Donghae offers him a tentative smile before he leaves. Hyukjae picks up the cup, about to put it in the sink when he notices the note he had stuck to the mug folded up into a tiny pill-sized square tucked between the cup and mug. Hyukjae puts the cup beside the sink and plucks the folded paper out, and carefully unfolds it. His heart rate picks up as he smooths the paper out. On the back of the post-it note, in very startlingly messy handwriting, is:

It is, thank you.
It’s fleece, so it’s very soft.

-Donghae (〃＾▽＾〃)

Hyukjae bites his lip to stop from cooing at how cute the little emoji Donghae had drawn. It’s a little crude and a lot messy, but Hyukjae can still see what it is. 

“Aw, you actually got a response,” Yesung says, peaking over his shoulder. “How precious.” Hyukjae scowls and refolds the paper, putting it in his pocket for later.

“It is very precious, thank you very much,” he says. Yesung has to excuse himself to the backroom to laugh himself silly after that. Hyukjae tries to look displeased, but in reality, he’s far too happy about getting a response from Donghae. So happy that he’s walking on cloud nine for the rest of the day—not even his very rough midterm puts a damper on his mood.

⸺

“Hyukjae has finally made contact,” Yesung reports at their weekly night at the bar (which is random each week, considering they never really know when projects and placements pop up. They manage to do at least once a week most of the time, though). He says it as soon as he sits down, and both Kyuhyun and Ryeowook look equally delighted at this announcement. 

“Finally?” Kyuhyun asks.

“What do you mean finally, how do they even know about this?” Hyukjae growls.

“We have another group chat,” Ryeowook admits sheepishly. “Entirely dedicated to this drama.” Hyukjae’s jaw drops.

“No,” he says. “What, how dare you, show me.”

Ryeowook takes out his phone and shows Hyukjae a Kakaotalk group chat titled ‘disaster hyuk’s failed romantic attempts: updates.”

“Who titled this, why is it so long,” Hyukjae says, snatching the phone out of Ryeowook’s hand. He scrolls absently through the chat. He hates to admit it, but Yesung's, day-by-day updates of what Donghae’s been doing and Hyukjae’s (very embarrassing) reaction to it is kind of amusing to read. Yesung has taken the liberty of documenting everything as if he’s narrating a wildlife documentary. 

He’s got to give credit to Yesung’s dedication to the bit. He does a good David Attenborough impression. He adds himself to the group chat before giving Ryeowook his phone back. 

“Are you going to write to him again,” Kyuhyun asks when Hyukjae tunes back into the conversation. 

Hyukjae bites his lip.

“Of course he is,” Yesung says. “You are, right? His response is practically an invitation to write again. I will literally punch you if you don’t, this is the best opportunity you could possibly have to actually establish some kind of relationship instead of your pathetic pining from afar.”

“Jeez,” Hyukjae mutters. “I will, I will, you don’t have to get so heated.”

“You should invite him to join us here,” Ryeowook says, putting his chin onto his hand and smiling at Hyukjae. 

“Absolutely not,” Hyukjae says immediately. “I barely know him and I am not scaring him off by inviting him to meet you schmucks.”

“You wound us terribly, Hyukjae,” Kyuhyun says flatly as he takes a small sip of his beer. “But I agree, that would be a terrible idea.”

Ryeowook pouts. “I didn’t mean right away,” he says. “Just when you get to know him. Then we could defini