Thursday evening has Minseok occupying one of his favorite cafes in the Myeongdong area, law books scattered across the table top and laptop screen illuminating his features. Lithe fingers skate across the keyboard, covering up the serene jazz tunes playing from the speakers above. The soothing atmosphere coats Minseok’s emotions, dulling the stress and tiredness in his mind.

He pauses in the middle of a sentence, train of thought momentarily lost. One hand comes up to rub at his sleepy eyes, the other tapping the side of the ceramic mug that was filled with his usual latte. It’s probably gone cold by now, Minseok thinks idly even as he takes a tentative sip.

The cafe itself doesn’t have clocks anywhere, something about how they want to keep the tranquil atmosphere and allow people a slice of heaven; a moment suspended in time. Minseok appreciates the sentiment, but grudgingly glances at the digital clock on the corner of his laptop screen and groans. It’s a quarter to midnight and Oh Sehun still hasn’t showed up.

He’s hit writer’s block, Sehun’s late as always, and now he feels even grumpier than normal. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep talking; getting good grades to get into a good graduate school is a pain in the .

It is was is expected of him, being the oldest son (and only) son in the family. He’s expected to excel in school, get his degree, find a job at a high-end law firm, meet a nice girl, get married, and have 3 kids and a dog. Minseok’s had this “plan” ingrained into him ever since her learnt how to read and write. He’s the pride of the Kim family, though it doesn’t help that his parents compare him to Joonmyun all the time (“such a waste of potential” his mother tsked when she found out Joonmyun would be majoring in the arts, acting, of all things. As if it wasn’t possible to make a living on something you love to do.)

Midnight on the dot is when familiar scuffling is heard, the chair across from him making a grating noise on his ears as it’s pulled back. The movement is punctuated with the soft thud of hitting the seat and a clatter of a book bag hitting the table. Minseok glances up from his screen for a moment, eyebrow raised as Sehun gives him a sheepish look in return.

“Dance practice ran late,” Sehun mutters under his breath. Minseok rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, brat,” Minseok shoots back. There’s no heat to his words; the tone he used was teasing but Sehun blushes nonetheless, ruffling through his bag for his notes and homework.



Minseok tutors Sehun in business law, though he himself isn’t going into business management like Sehun is. Of course, it was recommended that Minseok learn the intricacies of the law pertaining to corporations, so that class was really unavoidable. However, while Sehun is a college freshman, Minseok is finishing up his last year here before receiving his bachelor’s degree. 

Sehun and he…. they don’t run in the same social circles. While Minseok prefers the low-key and more “indie” feel of cafes and quaint book stores, Sehun dances in his free time. They had met through a mutual friend, Luhan, who had begged Minseok to tutor his lovable dongsaeng because “if he doesn’t at least get a C in this class he won’t be able to compete with the rest of the crew.” Essentially Minseok is saving Sehun’s from having to repeat a course. While he is doing it out of the goodness of his heart, it doesn’t make it any less tedious and boring.


The thing about tutoring Sehun is that he’s kind of a brat. No, wait. He’s a huge brat. A huge brat that knows exactly what to do to get his way. Except with Minseok.

Sehun tries to aegyo his way into not doing his homework but the only reaction he gets is Minseok’s stoney face, hands paused over his keyboard. The wiring of the laptop’s fan is the white noise filling Sehun’s ears. He blushes, spitting out a sorry before opening his textbook to today’s problem set. Minseok smirks and gets back to work, occasionally answering Sehun’s questions when the younger prods him about something he doesn’t understand.


It’s between three and four in the morning that Minseok realizes that Sehun’s practically passed out on his textbook, cheek pressed against a chart of Apple’s financial accounts while his hand loosely clutches his pencil. Minseok chuckles, reaching over to lightly pluck the writing instrument from Sehun’s hand and setting it to the side. He stands and stretches, cracking his back, working out the kinks in his shoulders before patting Sehun on the head gently. 

After meandering his way to the front counter and ordering himself another latte and a caramel macchiato for Sehun, Minseok comes back to Sehun staring at him with this queer expression on his face. He’s not sure what to make of it, but smiles nonetheless as he sets the drink in front of Sehun.



Sehun doesn’t miss the way Minseok’s eyes follow the baristas movements, the smell of bitter coffee mixing with the scent of sweet caramel and cream. He takes note of the way Minseok always seems to smile more when he has a fresh mug of coffee; sometimes it’s a latte, maybe an espresso when a caffeine boost is needed.

The way Minseok’s shoulders sag after a long day of lectures makes Sehun’s heart clench uncomfortably. Of course, he and Minseok aren’t exactly close even if Sehun does call him hyung on occasion. He’s heard from Luhan that Minseok’s parents are exceptionally overbearing, only expecting the best from their one and only son. From the gist of things, Minseok’s probably had a difficult time fighting with what he wants and what his parents want only to result in him doing what is expected and being miserable doing it.



By five Minseok yawns, decisively closing his laptop and stuffing it back into his messenger bag before running fingers through his hair. Sehun yawns as well, closing his textbook and tossing his pencil carelessly back into his backpack.

Minseok mumbles an apology for not being able to help as much and departs fairly quickly. The only reminder of him that’s left behind is one ceramic mug. The whiteness of the coffee cup reflects the early rising sun, making Sehun squint before he heads back to his dorm. 

On a whim, Sehun ducks into a nearby bookstore that’s open 24 hours a day when a thought suddenly hit him.



The next time the two meet is a week later; Sehun is preparing for a major exam and he needs all the help and moral support he can get. Sehun’s early for once, which surprises Minseok when he sees the familiar blonde hair from the doorway of the cafe. His smile grows wider when he realizes Sehun’s already ordered his usual, plumes of steam rising from the hot beverage.

When Minseok’s able to take a seat Sehun pulls out a brown package of sorts and sets it in front of him. Minseok’s eyes widen in bewilderment.

Sehun coughs lightly before speaking. “Hyung, um.” He freezes.

Minseok gives him an encouraging smile, nodding for him to continue.

Sehun fidgets with his long-sleeved shirt, one that is clearly too big for his lanky frame.

“Luhan’s told me a bit about your situation. Like, with your parents and stuff and I know this is out of the blue and that we’re not that close but hyung. You don’t look very happy but I know coffee makes you happy so I got you bunch of these books that can teach you how to make your own drinks,” Sehun says in a rush. He’s blushing a bright tomato red now, gaze fixed on a point just past Minseok’s left shoulder.

Minseok beams, fingers lightly tugging on the coarse ribbon in bubbling excitement.

“Thanks Sehun-ah, this means a lot.” The affectionate suffix slips out, making the both of them blush even harder.

Sehun clears his throat, “n-no problem, hyung? Hyung.” 

The smile Sehun sends his way is like a snatch of sunshine, and Minseok can’t help but lean over the table to ruffle his hair. Sehun swats at his hand agitatedly, but his expression is anything but annoyed.

A warmth spreads through his chest, engulfing his heart and lungs and maybe, just maybe Minseok likes Sehun a lot more than he gives him credit for.