Chapter Text
When did Minghao fall into limerence towards his colleague and fellow barista Junhui?
Maybe it was somewhere along the months they’ve been working side by side, since Minghao started part-timing at the coffee shop where Junhui has been a full-timer for nearly a year. Junhui graduated from the university Minghao is currently attending, but he’s waiting to enter grad school, because of course, being perfect in every way, he’s whip-smart.
Maybe it was since the first day of work, which was the second time he met Junhui. After his interview at the cafe, when he was about to leave, Minghao was surprised to be approached by one of the staff.
Good luck, Junhui sunbae said back then, gifting Minghao a cookie and a dazzling grin. Later, two out of the three cafes he interviewed at ended up calling him back. Both of them offered similar pays. There was no reason in particular for Minghao to choose the workplace he ended up choosing, except for Wen Junhui, his sweet cookie and even sweeter smile.
Or maybe it was that time, soon after he started working, when he was still trying to balance it with his school commitments. Minghao really wanted to stay on in this job, though — and not just because from day one Junhui took him under his wing, patiently teaching Minghao to brew overpriced coffee from scratch.
Junhui found him squatting outside the backdoor of the kitchen, in the deserted alley where they put the trash bags out and some staff smoked. Minghao jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, standing up so fast he nearly made Junhui lose balance.
Minghao caught Junhui's elbow in time, flustered. Junhui seemed ruffled too and not his usual impeccable self, taking a step back when Minghao straightened up.
His voice was gentle when he spoke though, that smile that still disarmed Minghao as much as the first day, now concerned.
“Are you okay, Minghao-yah?”
“Yeah, sorry.” Minghao tried to hide his embarrassment. “I’ll get back to work, sunbae."
“No.” Junhui put a hand on his shoulder again, and he started. “I didn’t mean that. Actually… why doesn't Minghao take the rest of the shift off? You look tired.”
Minghao was dumbfounded for a second, and sheepish about his obvious eyebags. “What? But —“ His mind was racing, slow to catch up.
“It’s fine.” Junhui’s voice was nice, his laugh reassuring. “I’ve been working here long enough; I can make decisions like this. Go on.”
His eyes held nothing but kindness, and understanding, like the first day they met. Minghao felt something in his chest melt, like a candle.
He felt like he should protest, refuse — even if it was okay, he couldn’t leave Junhui alone in their shift to deal with the evening peak hour — but Junhui sunbae tilted his head sweetly, waiting for his assent, and Minghao was just so tired he felt he could fall asleep on his feet.
Junhui laughed, again, when Minghao yawned, then winced in mortification. Junhui’s dark eyes twinkled with amusement.
“I can handle it, don’t worry. There aren’t as many customers today anyway.”
“Okay,” Minghao reluctantly mumbled, and Junhui’s face lit up.
He arrived at work the next day rejuvenated, eager to see Junhui and thank him, only to find Seungcheol hyung behind the counter, calling a greeting to him.
Minghao glanced at the employees’ schedule on the wall clipboard as he tied his apron strings, confused.
“Isn’t Junhui hyung supposed to be doing this shift with me?”
Seungcheol laughed at the pout on his face. “Don’t look so disappointed, you’ll hurt my feelings. He took sick leave so I’m replacing for today.”
“He’s sick?” Minghao froze.
Seungcheol called out a cheery welcome to a customer entering, looking unconcerned, before replying. “Yeah, just a mild flu, I heard. Should be back by tomorrow, if you’re looking for him.”
Junhui was back the next day, full spirits restored. The thanks that had laid waiting on Minghao’s tongue for a day died in his throat at Junhui’s bright smile.
“Are you feeling better, Minghao-yah?”
“Hyung, you’re the one who was sick, aren’t you?” he blurted out, and Junhui’s eyes widened, smile faltering.
He looked away, as if abashed, before meeting Minghao’s gaze with another eye-grin.
“It was nothing, I just had a tiny cold.” Junhui stuck out his thumb and index finger with a centimetre between them, then slyly turned it into a finger heart, making Minghao break into a stupid smile and swat him.
Later, during Minghao’s break, Junhui approached him again. Whatever little ice had been between them since Minghao started working two weeks ago seemed to have entirely dissolved.
“I brought a sandwich from home,” Junhui said, shyly opening a Tupperware. “Want half?”
Minghao nodded gratefully, and wolfed it down. “Delishus,” he gushed in Chinese even before he finished chewing.
Junhui seemed pleased. He went to the kitchen and reappeared with a plate of food, which he said Jeonghan, the chef, had thrown together with leftover ingredients. “Eat a lot.”
By the time Minghao realises he can’t stop looking at Junhui, thinking of Junhui — Junhui sunbae, a guy; not even his friend yet but only a colleague — it’s too late.
He’s already in the deep end.
See, Minghao has countless hyungs. He collects them like shiny things, like charms on a bracelet, adored and doted on by every single one. So technically, Junhui should just be one of his hyungs. Nobody special.
There’s something different about Junhui, though. Something about the way he looks at Minghao, that makes him feel seen.
Bizarre — that’s how most of his friends see Minghao. Charmingly bizarre and endlessly adorable.
And he doesn’t mind that image, loves it even. He enjoys clowning around, being the moodmaker in his friend group, being the axle that holds everyone together. But just like everyone else, he has his downtime too, days when he feels more subdued. Just as naturally as he becomes that vitamin, sometimes he gets the urge to talk about his feelings too.
But on most occasions when he tried expressing that, his friends would stare and laugh, You’re acting weird, Minghao-yah or What’s come over you?
Of course, he knows they’d be there for him if he ever truly needs to talk; and it’s probably just adolescent angst, but he’s occasionally had the jarring thought that maybe nobody really gets him.
Junhui wears his sharp-tongued, sassy facade much more distinctly than Minghao. It’s so easy to see the real him beneath, and Minghao doesn’t know any other guy — or girl, for that matter — who’s as sensitive and thoughtful.
It’s not even really anything Junhui has said or done, because they haven’t quite left that still-slightly-awkward new friends stage; but Minghao just gets this unshakable feeling that Junhui wouldn’t bat an eyelash no matter what Minghao tells him or how he acts. There’s just something so open and accepting about him. So comfortable.
Minghao watches Junhui’s capable hands doing delicate tasks during rush hour, and wonders how it would feel to be touched so carefully. Junhui’s doe eyes are often wide with wonder, and ridiculously, they always sparkle. It’s infuriating how adult and mysterious he seems, for someone so pure and honest. There’s a quality about him that magnetises Minghao, that makes him want to recklessly lay himself bare, all his idiosyncrasies and feelings. To show everything, and know everything about the older boy in return.
They’re closing up for the night, having just finished the late shift together. Junhui gives Minghao the smile he always does and says he can leave first if he wants; it’s late. Minghao refuses and gallantly helps Junhui with lowering the shutters. Junhui looks amused as he’s elbowed out of the way.
“Cold?” Minghao blurts out, glancing at Junhui standing beside him with the shirttails of their uniform falling out of his skinny jeans, apron-less. It’s disconcertingly intimate seeing him off-work and rumpled, smile tired but undimmed.
Before Minghao thinks twice, he’s peeled off his jacket and draped it clumsily over Junhui sunbae's shoulders.
The gleam of amusement in Junhui’s eyes grows, but he pushes his arms into Minghao’s jacket sleeves, to his relief. Junhui looks stunning in it, so he regrets immediately.
“For the record, I could have closed those shutters singlehandedly,” Junhui remarks, giving him a sidelong look.
“Yeah, okay, hyung,” Minghao scoffs, mostly to be a brat. “I’m stronger than you.”
“I’m definitely stronger than you,” Junhui sputters, reminding him, “Because I’m older.”
“So what, old man?” Minghao tiptoes to tower over him, making Junhui bark out his inimitable laugh.
“Good grief, you’re childish.” Junhui has apparently let him win the argument, but Minghao doesn’t feel like he’s won. He feels personally attacked by how handsome Junhui looks, beaming foolishly.
“Hyung’s cheating,” he says in a small voice. “It’s against the rules to be this cute.”
A shocked silence ensues, before Junhui starts laughing in earnest, his mouth open and eyes closed. His laugh, like everything about him, is gorgeous. Junhui seems to find Minghao's statement and petulant tone so hysterical, he’s even seal clapping until his cheeks tint pink.
They both turn when Jeonghan hyung clears his throat, seeming to have forgotten about his presence. He’s looking at them like they’ve gone bonkers. Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m leaving first, ya freaks.” Junhui gives him a sheepish wave goodbye, still biting his lips to suppress his smile.
They walk together to the bus stop and before he gets on his bus Junhui takes off Minghao’s jacket and returns it. Minghao wants to ask him to keep it, romantic drama style, but Junhui is looking at him with such inexplicable fondness in those boba eyes that the words are stuck in his throat.
The bus zooms off, leaving him in the dust, still frozen.
So somehow it devolves to this: every time Junhui catches him staring, Minghao pretends to be flirting with somebody else, so Junhui will be the one looking away embarrassed instead of him.
It comes effortlessly to him — much more effortlessly than locking eyes with Junhui and feeling electricity all the way to his toes. Minghao is a master in this art. He flirts with customers, both male and female, indiscriminately; with Seungcheol and Jeonghan and his university friends who come into the cafe and ask for his employee discount. He flirts with Jihoon, their hottest regular, who is happy to flirt back. He even flirts with Soonyoung, the shift manager, though he knows Jihoon only comes in so frequently to see her. He flirts with everything that breathes and moves, until he’s exhausted and burning with shame. He flirts until there’s nobody left he hasn’t flirted with.
(Part of the reason is because this also makes it easier to pretend that when he does flirt with Junhui, it’s nothing exclusive. That he’s just being himself, and Junhui is one of the many he flirts with for sport. Nobody special.)
The first few times he laid it on thick, Junhui only blinked as if caught by surprise, and Minghao watched him closely, but nothing about his eyes was judgmental. He’d been right — Minghao’s heart throbbed — there was nothing but softness in that gaze, no matter how far he went. In fact, Junhui seemed highly entertained by his antics. And sometimes — Jesus take the wheel — sometimes he even playfully flirted back.
“Wait, dude? You want me to do what?”
“It was Dohoon’s idea,” Minghao defends himself, already cursing his first best friend under the saucer eyes of his second. “He said it’d work, for sure.”
“Bruh.” Mingyu lets out a low whistle. “I need to have a talk with Dohoonie bout this, but yeah, sure. I’ll help.”
“Really?”
“Of course! What are friends for? I want you to be happy, bro.”
“Mingyu-yah…”
“What? Gross.”
“Thanks.”
They continue eating chips for awhile on Mingyu’s couch, before he speaks up again.
“I’m kinda surprised by your type, though.”
“Huh?” Minghao’s defensive tone creeps out again. He hopes his ears aren’t red. Mingyu has briefly met Junhui when he dropped by the coffee shop to bum drinks and cakes on Minghao’s employee discount, but Minghao will buy him an entire shopful of food if their plan is a success.
“You know, you’re like —” Mingyu gestures vaguely at Minghao’s general outrageousness. “I didn’t think you’d be into someone so wholesome.”
He’s more fun than you, Minghao bites his tongue to keep from retorting, because it’s not true and he doesn’t want to hurt Mingyu who’s being a solid friend. It’s true, though, that Junhui is anything but boring. His wholesomeness is what Minghao likes about him.
He settles on shooting Mingyu a dirty look, and receives only a grin in response.