There’s a man that Minho always sees at 8.20am, plus/minus 5 minutes, every weekday morning. Most of the time, it’s just a fleeting glance but on rare occasions when the man decides to patronize the small bakery he works at, Minho will be lucky to have at least 3 minutes of his time, exchanging polite smiles and words that never fail to get Minho’s mornings off to a good start.

Minho doesn’t know how to explain this. Or actually, he prefers not to think too much into this. It scares Minho a little. He can’t say he likes the guy. After all, he doesn’t even know him. One thing’s for sure though, the 8.20am man makes Minho happy. If Minho could have his way, he would certainly choose to be, at the very least, friends with his regular customer. However, there’s something holding him back. Putting aside the fact that Minho is considerably shy and reserved in nature, there seems to be a barrier separating them. It’s like they’re a part of different worlds.

Minho is just an average Master’s student holding a part time job at the bakery near his university and thus spends about 60% of his life dressed in basic t-shirts and jeans matched with his trusty black apron to deceive customers with his non-existent baking skills. In contrast, the man, young but seemingly older than Minho, is always decked out in smart-casual stylish office wear which make him look even more attractive, so much so that he turns heads wherever he goes. Or maybe, just Minho’s head.

What’s more, the man has this aura about him that is rather intimidating to Minho. Perhaps because he dresses so stylishly well and has such gorgeous features, Minho feels that, for lack of better words, the man is out of his league. When he is already lacking in courage, this gives him less reason to approach the man and get to know him better. Minho ends up shaking the thought away and decides to be contented with the short moments of interaction over the cash register. Although Minho gives up on making the man more than just a customer, he still looks forward to catching a glimpse of him every morning.

Today is no different.

Except this time, the man suddenly stops, staying just outside the bakery, as he turns to Minho’s direction and meets his eyes. Minho’s breath hitches the same time the man’s lips quirk up in a smirk. And when he goes on to wink at him before walking away, Minho’s brain stops functioning and he ends up in complete shock.

He doesn’t have much time to recover though, much less think about what just happened, because a customer arrives with a tray of buns and also conveniently blocks his line of sight. This is quickly followed by another customer, a queue starting to form behind her, and soon, Minho becomes too occupied with his job to worry about how the man took his breath away with a mere look.

It’s only a couple of days later when Minho is reminded of the smile and wink that charmed him because he sees the same smile directed at him once again; This time, it’s a close-up view because the man is inside the bakery, getting his breakfast for the day.

And so, the 3(or less)-minute countdown begins.

“Good morning, Sir,” Minho greets as he pulls the white tray of 2 pastries towards him and begins packing them separately into brown paper bags, “Will that be all?”

“Actually…” The man starts, pauses for a short moment as he thinks to himself before he continues, “Do you have serviettes?”

“Yes, of course.” Minho quickly pulls some out from below the counter and is about to place them in the plastic bag along with the pastries when the man stops him.

Minho watches as he takes one from him and folds it neatly into half.

“Although you look kinda cute…” The man mumbles while he holds the serviette in one hand and reaches towards Minho’s lips, “I better wipe this chocolate stain off for you.”

Minho freezes in his position, eyes not knowing where to look, as the man carefully wipes the corner of his lips before scrunching the serviette and giving it back to him.

“If you don’t mind throwing this away for me…”

Minho snaps out of his daze and takes the rubbish from his customer, “Sure, and thank you… you didn’t have to.”

“It’s no big deal.” The man smiles and goes on to pay the exact amount for his pastries, “Thank you.”

With that, he takes his pastries and leaves Minho with a heart beating faster than usual, wondering if he should be thankful that he was late for work and thus had to rush through his chocolate croissant in the morning.

(He is.)

“How can I hel- lo.”

It’s the 8.20 man that causes Minho to gulp in between words and conveniently (but incoherently) change ‘help’ to ‘hello’. Except it isn’t 8.20 in the morning. It’s 8.20 at night and they’re both not supposed to be where they are now (or maybe, they are). This explains why Minho isn’t the only one shocked. The man is too. And like Minho, he looks pleasantly surprised to see him.

“I didn’t know you worked the night shift too.” The man casually comments with a smile before he distractedly looks at the variety of sandwiches displayed at the counter.

“I usually don’t.” Minho shakes his head earnestly, eyes wide as if he was pleading innocence, “I was forced to swap shifts with my co-worker tonight.”

“That sounds unfair…”

“It’s all good.” Minho says out loud, but thinks to himself that it’s really only good now because he gets to talk to the man in front of him.

“Right.” The man laughs, “Then I guess you wouldn’t mind getting me a chicken sandwich?”

“Is this all you’re having for dinner?” Minho asks before his mind can inform him he shouldn’t be poking his nose into his customer’s business.

“Well…” The man starts but doesn’t get to finish as Minho interrupts him to apologize for being nosy.

“Sorry, I’m talking too much.” Minho rubs his neck sheepishly, “You don’t have to answer that.”

An amused smile tugs on the corners of the man’s lips as he observes out loud, “You seem nervous…”

Minho gulps, “Do I?”

The man nods as he goes on to ask, “Am I making you nervous?”

“No…” Minho lies.

The man gives Minho a knowing look.

“Yes?” Minho says like he’s trying to guess the correct answer, “Maybe?”

“I guess I am making you nervous.”

“More or less.” Minho laughs.

“Why?”

Minho falls silent.

“Maybe you should just get me that chicken sandwich…” The man suggests instead, trying to break the awkward silence, once he notices how uneasy Minho looks.

But Minho doesn’t want to get him that sandwich. At least not right now; Not when he’s finally talking to this man that is possibly someone he can fall in love with. And so, Minho stays where he is and finds that much needed courage to make the man more than just his customer.

“Actually… Before I get you that sandwich,” Minho smiles awkwardly as he begins his attempt at flirting, “Maybe I can offer you something else?”

The man tilts his head to the side in question.

“My shift ends in half an hour… If you don’t mind waiting, perhaps we can get dinner together and you wouldn’t have to settle for a measly sandwich?”

A smile grows on his customer’s face.

“Your boss wouldn’t be pleased to know you said that.” The man comments, looking rather amused, “But I’ll take you up on your offer.”

“You would?” Minho asks gleefully, unable to hide his happiness.

“Yes, even though I don’t know your name and you probably don’t know mine either.”

“Minho. Choi Minho.” Minho is more than ready to finally introduce himself.

“Well, Minho, I’m Kibum… And I guess we can talk about how you’ve been staring at me every time I walk by over dinner.”

Strangely, Minho doesn’t feel embarrassed that he had been caught looking. Instead of getting flustered, he finds himself feeling all too happy and suddenly having the courage to tease Kibum back.

“You know, we can also talk about how you notice a lot about me too.”

When Kibum blinks at him, surprised, before he hides a laugh behind his hand, Minho decides he wants to become the reason for Kibum’s happiness.