A/N: For the two of you who have requested, I'm so sorry that I'm taking so long. I'm participating in a wrting contest, and at the same time a bunch of school projects VERY CONVENIENTLY came up, and ALSO VERY CONVENIENTLY I've run into a bit of a writer's block when it comes to writing requests. Hopefully I'll have them done soon though.

This crappy, short one-shot is to make up for all that waiting, I guess /shot

  "I'll take a medium espresso, please."

  The unfamiliar deep voice jarred you from your stupor, and you glanced up to find a guy - definitely a new customer, you definitely would've remembered a face as handsome as his - perched on one of the tall chairs. Your hand paused in its action of wiping down the marble countertop as you looked at him with a puzzled expression, questioning his choices in life. Wasn't the simple fact that you were stuck with cleaning every single surface in the cafe already proof that you shouldn't be trusted to make a decent cup of coffee? Plus, you weren't wearing the preppy, blindingly white uniforms (as if handling dark liquid and colorful frosting while wearing white was a good idea) that the ones manning the cash registers (the ones who could actually work coffee machines) were wearing. Instead, you were decked out in an almost-gray white polo and dark pants, trademark janitor clothes.

  So why was this guy looking directly at you?

  "Trust me," you laughed, resuming your work, "you might wanna ask someone else. Don't want to risk damaging your digestive system."

  "Is it really that bad?" he asked, leaning closer even though you were too preoccupied with a spot on the counter to look him in the eye.

  "It's not that bad-" Dammit, why wasn't this stain going away? "-just a matter of who's making it."

  "Here, let me have a go at it." Ridiculously long fingers pushed your hands off the rag and took over, and in a few seconds, the dark patch of dried-up liquid that you'd been working on for minutes was completely erased. Glancing up in surprise and the feeling of why-the-hell-couldn't-this-guy-have-arrived-earlier-so-I-didn't-have-to-waste-five-minutes-of-my-life-on-a-stupid-spill, you realized that the customer was really close - flirtatiously close. Not only that, he was so much more gorgeous up close.

  "So." His voice interrupted you from your daydreamy thoughts. "The coffee?"

  You jumped, and, too embarassed to think straight, nodded in agreement. "Medium espresso, yes?"

  He flashed a winning smile. Literally - his entire face seemed to scream I win. "Yup."

  You didn't even have time to question your actions before the coffee machine was sitting before you, black plastic glinting evilly in the mid-day sunlight.

~~~

  You watched his - Hoseok, you learned his name was - expression as he took a tentative sip from the mug, waiting for the disgusted grimace that was soon to come.

  But strangely, it never did.

  "You want me to go get the trash can?" You asked, figuring Hoseok was just a good actor.

  "What?" It was almost as if your words had snapped him out of a trance. "Oh, no, not at all. This is actually really good."

  "Really?" You frowned. He was probably lying to you to avoid hurting your feelings. Although you could understand why he was doing it - even you yourself couldn't deny that you looked sensitive and fragile with your ridiculously wide eyes - it didn't make you less offended. So what if you were a girl who happened to have a permanent expression of innocent fear? You didn't mind criticism. You took it the best out of all the workers at the cafe. "Be honest."

  "I am." Why was he so handsome? I can't even be properly mad at him. "Take a sip if you don't believe me."

  Glaring at him suspiciously, you snatched the mug out of his hands and took a sip, widening your eyes in surprise when a mouthful of definitely-not-bad coffee hit your tongue. Maybe you weren't so bad at this, after all. "Hey-"

  "Yah!" Interrupting you, Hoseok tucked a finger under your chin and lifted your head up to look you in the eye. "Do you realize what you've just done?"

  Your eyes going even wider and even rounder, you stared down at the rim of the cup that, crazily, seemed to mock you. "You-you drank from the other side," you stammered, trying to convince yourself that you hadn't just shared an indirect kiss with an undoubtedly very good-looking stranger.

  "No I didn't," he said calmly, placidly almost. "We drank from the same side. I didn't lie to you about the quality of the coffee, and I'm not lying to you right now. Besides, you were the one who ingested my saliva, not the other way around."

  Opening your mouth, you were just about to come up with a snappy retort when you realized exactly what position the two of you were in.

  Since you'd already finished your shift a few minutes ago, you'd taken the liberty of sitting on one of the high chairs pushed up against the counter like a regular customer would, swiveled away from the front of the cafe so you were facing Hoseok. Both of your hands were clutching the warm mug, and he was leaning towards you, and his fingers were still propping your chin up, and he was so perfect you were pretty sure it wasn't possible, and he was so close, so close that if you leaned forward just a little bit more your lips would collide-

  And then his fingers were pulling a few bills from the pocket of his jeans, leaving a strange patch of cold where they'd been just moments before, underneath your chin. Prying one of your hands from the mug you were still holding, he shoved a couple inside after counting the exact amount and closed your fingers around them, sliding off the chair and walking towards the door. Right before he swung the door open to let a burst of fresh air into the cafe, he turned back to you and flashed a smile over his shoulder, a smile that sent your heart into overdrive.

  As the bells attached to the door rang to signal his departure, you sat frozen on the chair, hopelessly wishing for him to come back.