“So the strangest thing happened to me yesterday,” Lu Han mumbles over the food in his mouth, waving his chopsticks obscenely and obnoxiously enough that he almost pokes Lay in the eye.

Lay raises an eyebrow, leaning over the table with elbows digging into the surface, intrigued by what the small one in front of him has to say. He picks at a sweet potato, losing interest in it the more Lu Han waves his chopsticks around like they’re a fairy princess wand. His lips curl up in a smile at that thought. Lu Han as a fairy princess in a cute little frilly pink dress with boots, a curly blond wig, and light makeup would be cute. He’d look just like a little girl, and Lay would buy him all kinds of toys and other little dresses and skirts and take him to those play centers for toddlers. Lu Han would fit in just right. Almost too right.

“And then he just left. And -”

Lu Han shuts his mouth and scowls. He can’t believe Lay is seriously doing this again. He seriously thinks something is wrong with the boy. It’s like his brain is hardwired wrong or something. Really. Snapping his fingers in front of his friend’s face, Lu Han huffs.

“Lay? Lay, are you even listening to me?”

“Of course.”

Lu Han hums in disbelief, pursing his lips together. He glares at Lay who stares back at him dumbly, just that stupid half smile on his face. Lay waves his hand, urging Lu Han to continue on in his story (or start it over because Lu Han is ninety-nine percent sure Lay was not listening to him).

“So as I was saying … I was walking home, freezing my off, when some guy comes out of nowhere and hands me an espresso. Then he just leaves. But none of that really matters. The only thing that matters is the fact that he knew my name and I never introduced myself.” Knitting his brows in confusion, Lu Han pushes around the food in his lunch box, the thought of eating becoming forgettable the more he frets over the guy with the stylish scarf and the pretty smile.

He doesn’t understand why it bothers him so much. Perhaps it’s because he feels guilty the guy knows him but Lu Han has no idea who he is but Lu Han has been plagued by constant worries of if Espresso Guy is a stalker or not, of if he’s some creeper come to kidnap him and sell his organs on the black market. It’s killing him to wonder who this guy is. He doesn’t even look familiar!

If they had met before Lu Han would know. There is no way he would forget such a young, sweet face or that smile. That smile.

“ … Perhaps he knows you from somewhere.”

Sighing, Lu Han tosses his chopsticks onto the table and rests his forehead in his palm. “Take less time to think next time. I’ve already thought about that.”

Lu Han doesn’t see it but Lay blinks thrice in rapid succession. “If you already thought about it…and I just said it…then that must be right, right?”

Preventing himself from banging his head on the table for a multitude of reasons, Lu Han bites his lip, wanting to cry because of his friend. “Why are you like this?”

Their eyes come to meet and Lu Han frowns at the smirk stretched across Lay’s face.

“Because I was born to annoy the living hell out of you.”

Sehun is less of an than Lay and, for such reasons, Lu Han appreciates his company more. Sehun actually pays attention to what he has to say and responds without taking five to ten minutes to ponder about how best to get on Lu Han’s nerves. This is why the two are camped out in Lu Han’s living room four days later on a Sunday evening.

The bags under Lu Han’s eyes have darkened, a clear example of his lack of sleep for the past four days. He isn’t used to this. He’s used to returning home, worn out after sitting through lectures and seminars given in monotone voices, and passing out on his bed. He’s used to complaining about how his refrigerator is empty and how he misses his mother’s cooking.

He isn’t used to staying up to ungodly hours of the morning, fingers tapping incessantly at the already scratched surface of his plain, wooden desk. He isn’t used to reserving so much of his attention for one person, a person he doesn’t even know at that. But the mystery of the Espresso Guy’s identity tugs at his sanity and Lu Han’s starting to think he’ll go crazy if he doesn’t find out.

That’s why he’s enlisted the help of his friends: to save him from nights spent driving himself mad with implausible theories and speculations.

Lu Han should know he can’t rely on his friends for anything.

“Maybe you two lived in the same neighborhood as kids or something,” Sehun offers, tossing an over-salted potato chip in his mouth.

While Sehun responds immediately, his young brain doesn’t function as logically as it should.

“Sehun, my dear,” Lu Han smiles, “I moved to Korea three years ago. I’m quite sure we didn’t live in the same neighborhood as children.” His smile drops to a frown. “Please use your brain, sweetheart.”

“I hate it when you use those pretty words and that pretty smile to ridicule me.”

“It’s a form of endearment. You should appreciate it.” The Chinese male smiles once more, his eyes glittering with amusement at the scowl that pushes its way out on Sehun’s face.

He and Sehun met when Lu Han first moved to Korea. His parents had been averse to his moving to another country for his university studies but he was set on going. Determined. Sehun was then in high school, just an awkward boy who spent way too much time trying to learn how to skateboard but failed every time. Lu Han would often see him riding around, and one day when Sehun attempted some kind of trick and fell on his Lu Han happened to be getting acquainted with his new neighborhood. Like the awesome person he naturally is, Lu Han helped the kid up, brought him to his then new apartment, and slapped a band-aid on his forehead. Ever since that day Sehun wouldn’t leave him alone. He’s like a leech. But Lu Han loves his leech-like characteristics.

“Could he be a friend of a friend?” Sehun mumbles as he yawns. Lu Han stares at him from where he sits cross-legged on the couch.

The elder takes a deep breath. “…No,” he drawls on the exhale. There is no way for the Espresso Guy to be a friend of a friend. Lu Han would have recognized him. Geez, can either of his friends be helpful in solving this life or death question or is he just going to have to go through the rest of his life not knowing who the Espresso Guy is or how he knows Lu Han?

All of a sudden, Sehun sits up. He accidentally flips over his bag of chips and Lu Han has to bite back the growl that rises in his chest at having crumbs all over the floor when he just vacuumed a few days ago.

“Whoa whoa whoa pause.” The younger boy holds up a hand. Lu Han raises an eyebrow. “Let’s think about this rationally, Han. We suspect that he attends our university, right? If he does, there isn’t a person who doesn’t know you. You’ve been in every vocal concert, your face has been plastered on plenty of advertisements for different organizations, you talk to strangers like they’re your best friends, and you never shut the up.”

“I resent that last part.” Lu Han crosses his arms over his chest.

Sehun waves him off. “Whatever. The point is…maybe you just don’t know him.”

The realization that Sehun is most likely right depresses Lu Han. He’d rather he had met Espresso Guy with the nice smile before and just forgot than have never met him in the first place. Sure he would feel like a jerk for a bit but it would pass. And Lu Han would be able to talk to the guy without the awkward introduction and newly acquainted phase.

Lu Han sighs and uncrosses his legs so he can flop face-down onto the arm of the couch. “I hate that you’re probably right about that,” he mumbles into the cushion, kicking his legs childishly.

He hears Sehun’s teeth crush another chip. “I can’t believe you didn’t think about that before you started harassing Lay and I about how the guy knew you.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, you know what would make you feel better?” Sehun crawls over to the couch. He places his hand on Lu Han’s back to comfort him. He barely hears the mumbled ‘what?’, Lu Han’s face still pressed into the couch. “Bubble tea.”

Turning his head to the side so he could face Sehun, Lu Han frowns. “I’m not in the mood for bubble tea.”

Sehun poorly stifles his gasp and suddenly his face is just centimeters away from Lu Han’s. “You are always in the mood for bubble tea.” The dark and serious look on his face has Lu Han shrinking back into the couch but Sehun digs his fingers into his side, preventing him from inching away.

“Alright, you freak, we can get bubble tea.”