Would that be with cinnamon, sir?
Title: Would that be with cinnamon, sir?
Author: moi
Pairing: JongKey, ninja!OnTae
Genre: AU, Romance, Humor
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Just borrowing~
Warning: Some swearing
Summary: "You've stepped into a coffee house. Coffee houses serve coffee."
A/N: Not a vignette~ (O:) idk, not much to say. I just hope it doesn't feel rushed >_<
Kibum doesn't even bother to look up when the small bell above the main entrance rings.
He can hear footsteps approaching the counter but he's too submerged in his current task to actually pay any attention. His fingers are steady and patient, his brain having already forgotten about any other person in the room, when a voice speaks, a soft wind blows and his art is gone.
The words themselves reach his ears a moment later. "You're open, right?" he hears, but still doesn't lift his eyes, using a paper napkin to collect the spilt sugar and throw it away. "Well, you did come in, didn't you," he sharply responds a second too early before finally navigating his stare upwards; meeting what may be the most easily tapable male he has ever laid eyes upon. No kidding.
The boy, definitely not even past his 20s, shrugs his shoulders and looks around. "I just see no other people around and you were... doing whatever," he offers.
"Drawing in sugar," he corrects with his arms crossed over his chest. "And well, not everybody is a weirdo, getting coffee at," he looks at the clock on the wall. "Five in the afternoon, for crying out loud."
The stranger quirks his head a little, eyebrows knitted together. "Why did you assume I'd simply want coffee?"
Kibum snorts. "You've stepped into a coffee house. Coffee houses serve coffee," he makes a face.
"What if I want brownies?" he asks and purses his lips.
"Brownies are a side-dish. You're supposed to drink coffee in the meantime, that's what normal people do."
"Well, I want," he pauses to exhale stubbornly and his eyes go through the catalog over Kibum's head. "Hot Chocolate. I want Hot Chocolate," his nostrils flair and Kibum stares dumbly.
"That's a nice comeback," he admits in a hushed voice as his nails scratch the wooden surface of the counter. "Should I put whipped cream on top of that?" he asks, defeat making him realise the role he's supposed to be playing in this situation. Kibum hates his job right now.
The boy smiles in triumph and nods slowly, as if basking in the feeling of victory. "You do that. Now get to serving me," he squints and focuses on the tag pinned to the other's copper vest. "Kibum," he says, slightly lifting an eyebrow.
"Yes sir," he replies, turning around and doing quick work behind the bar.
The boy leaves as soon as he pays, merely shooting a last glance before exiting the shop. The bell rings, the door falls shut. Kibum feels exhausted.
------
"Why the long face?" a cheery Taemin asks the moment he sets foot on the shop the next day, and before Kibum can even notice, the boy has landed on the counter, feet thumping against the inside cupboards.
"Could you stop that?" the older one asks, visibly irrate, while faking a smile for the lady waiting for her change. He has only been here for an hour, but his mood isn't exactly that awesome. "How many times have I told you not to come here?" he hisses once the woman is gone and his hands automatically go to his own hips.
Taemin smiles. "I missed an Algebra test in order to spend some time with my best friend, so what," he continues to grin, barely ever stopping even while talking, and his cheeks redden. Kibum could swear that boy has a certain blood-controlling technique which he exploits to look adorable. And yes, by the way, it does work.
"You skipped-" he starts off, a tad too high, and attracts the attention of several costumers sitting on the nearby tables. Lower this time. "You skipped an exam so as to come here and get on my nerves? I'm actually working, Taemin," he looks at him with the severe expression only his mother ever used, and shakes his head.
He raises his hands, fingers clutching Kibum's sleeve and tugging gently. "Don't be like this, please, I just missed you is all," he says with pleading eyes, huge as saucers, successful and well-practiced.
Kibum's stare softens.
"Plus, I see you've got some problems, care to share?" he suggests on the same wavelength as before. "But oh," he stops Kibum the moment his mouth shoots open. "After you make me that free strawberry milkshake?" he smiles.
"You-" he initiates but changes his mind at seeing the other's face. He sighs. "I seriously wonder where you hide all these calories you get," he admits while shaking his head and turns around towards the smoothie maker.
"None of your business," he hears him tease behind his back, as he throws the ingredients in the appliance and turns it on. "But seriously, what happened? You weren't like this yesterday," he continues, his feet picking up the pace he had left earlier. Thud, thud, thud.
"None of your business," he uses Taemin's own words against him and releases the button. Pouring the beverage into the plastic cup (Taemin's cup, washed and stored away everyday, since he's the regular), he hands it over to the boy.
The younger accepts it gracefully, hands slightly shaky with excitement. "You'll have to tell me, you know you can't hide from me," his eyes go sly and he takes a sip of his milkshake.
"Well, actually-"
"Oh, hand me that muffin, too," his voice cuts Kibum off once more, and his pointer directs a pair of eyes towards the glass box containing the said treats. He pouts for effect.
Kibum's mouth opens wide in surprise. "I can't believe you're doing this! No, I'm not giving you anything anymore unless you pay," he furrows his eyebrows. "I'm gonna get fired because of you or something."
"No, you're not," a third voice joins the conversation as Jinki appears at the doorframe of the office behind the counter. He points towards the big sign reading "The customer is always right~♥" and smiles.
"This is ridiculous, he's not even pa-" Kibum tries to say but loses the words when Jinki picks up a chocolate chip muffin, walks by him and offers it to a beaming Taemin. "What exactly is happening here?" he asks with a baffled expression. Is everybody ganging up on him now or what?
Taemin grins. "Your boss obviously considers me The Chosen One, which means you should start treating me respectively. That's what's happening," he replies, all too confident, and his cheeks flush at the hair-ruffling he receives from Jinki.
"Not him, too," Kibum mouths desperately at Taemin and mourns the loss of a person he could rely on.
"Anyway, I'm out of here, need to get some things done," the oldest of the three announces and smoothes over his shirt before stepping out of the staff area and disappearing out of the shop. And wait, was that an exchange of winks Kibum witnessed? Jesus Christ.
Taemin turns to him once they're alone again. "You were saying?"
------
"Once again, leave me alone, there's nothing to talk about," Kibum repeats for the eleventh time this day and rolls his eyes while stacking freshly washed dishes.
Taemin starts jumping on the balls of his feet, his hands crossed behind his back as he balances. "You met somebody, didn't you?" he asks, eyes inquiring.
"What would that have to do with anything?" Kibum sighs in response. Taemin, he's one smart little thing. It's no secret that he can read anybody like an open book, once he decides to get to it. Especially considering the two have known each other for a good three years, the younger boy doesn't even have to try; he merely needs to take one look at the other.
"Oh, I don't know," he says and pauses for a bit to wave at somebody he probably knows, passing by the window, "maybe it's that you suddenly started looking frustrated in a matter of hours?"
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do-" the bell rings.
And it's that guy. Of course.
Kibum straightens up. "You," he greets, eyes accusing and lips in a straight line.
"Me," the boy replies and takes the steps needed to get in front of the counter. His hair is styled today, Kibum notes, bright blond spikes gradually turning darker. It's weird, it's completely weird, but it strangely appeals him. "Why, am I not allowed to come here?" he challenges.
"Not really, we, uh," he places one hand on his waist and he looks upwards, using his brain to come up with anything to say. "...haven't set that Private Members Only rule in motion yet," he finishes off and feels like slapping himself just a second after listening to what he said. He can sense Taemin studying him, and takes a brief look at him. Oops.
The guy huffs and looks around. "As if I'd regularly waste my money on this," he makes a face and proceeds to stare at Kibum.
He simply glares for a while -'As if anyone asked him. Stupid, idiotic good-looking stupid idiot.'- and eventually decides to talk back. "Listen, are you even going to get anything? Don't think I have time to waste just 'cause you do," Damnright served, thank you very much.
The boy seems to ignore his words. "What's your specialty?" he questions with an eyebrow raised.
"Oh, baby, we excel in everything," Kibum replies, face totally smug.
"I'll take everything, then."
"Are you serious?"
"No."
"God, you're a jerk, aren't you."
Taemin observes, back and forth.
"A jerk that would like to report you to your boss right now." Cocky.
"My boss isn't even here." Cockier.
"The Cappuccino here is pretty good," Taemin's voice cuts through the air happily, a smile taking over his features as he leans over the counter, elbows steadying him. Two heads turn towards him simultaneously, blank faces on both of them, and his smile turns into a grin. They would be cute.
The guy coughs. "Thank you. I'll have that," he nods and looks at Kibum, who in turn can only ask: "Cinnamon or flaked chocolate?" and retreat at the dude's "Cinnamon, I think. No, wait, flaked chocolate."
Kibum zones out while taking care of the order. He can't really hear or see what's happening, since he's lost somewhere in space, all his movements completely subconscious. It's a shame that he doesn't really like anything they serve here. Actually, it's not a shame, it's plain stupidity. Why would you work somewhere you can't even exploit your position? Come to think of it, he'd have been better off working in a cosmetics boutique, or a salon. That would be awesome.
He sighs without even realising it as he pours the coffee in the appropriate cup. Walking back towards the cashier machine, he slams the cup onto the counter and hits the buttons in quick, sharp motions. "That'll be 3,000 won," he murmurs moodily, aiming for bitchy but eventually sounding like a spoiled kid. "Unless you'd like some brownies this time, too," he throws a pointy glare towards the guy.
"Nah, that'll be all," he smiles cheekily as he pulls out his wallet, paying and telling Kibum to "keep the change". Does he think he's cool or something?
------
"Oh, I wonder, 'what would that have to do with anything'?" Taemin teases the moment the unknown boy exits the shop.
Kibum rolls his eyes. "Don't start," he holds up a hand.
"So you're telling me you're not interested," he says and proceeds to study him.
"Not at all," he answers and turns Taemin around, pushing him away from the counter and making him land somewhere close to the main entrance. "Now go, you've stayed enough for today!"
"Okay, so I guess you wouldn't happen to want to know his name and stuff," the younger says, looking down at his nails, and something clicks in Kibum's head. Of course Taemin would find out stuff, being the sly social butterfly he is. He looks at said 'butterfly' with pleading eyes, despite the fact that he wouldn't ever admit to wanting that information.
Taemin sighs. "Kim Jonghyun, 19, aspiring actor, single," he blurts out, emphasising the last word with a contented hiss, and before Kibum can even take in the facts, he's gone, flying out the door and running down the street.
Kibum stays there, watching dumbly. The clock ticks in the background. He should start wrapping up.
------
He gets ill.
Basically, it's not like he's dying or something, but his nose is stuffy, his eyes are red and his skin condition is bad, which does classify as 'ill' in Kibum's list.
He calls in sick for the following two weeks. One to recover and one to complete his skin treatment schedule.
------
The next time he goes to the shop is earlier than his usual shift, at around 10AM.
He runs into the building and wears the biggest apologetic grin he as ever attempted. "Minho, Minho, oh Minho, I'm sorry. I love you so much, don't fire me," he jogs behind the counter and clings to the man's side, causing a few customers' eyebrows to rise.
"You should stop," the other says simply, expertly adding whipped cream on top of some beverage before offering it to the teen anticipating and angsting by the cashier. Minho, being the co-owner of the coffee house, usually opens the shop up at precisely 6:00, takes care of the early morning shift, and leaves at 12:00, when Kibum takes over until five or six in the afternoon, depending on the traffic. These two last weeks, though, he's been working full time, heroically covering up for Kibum.
"I'm thankful, so thankful, I love you," he grins at him in a way that successfully shows off his glowing skin. "You can leave, I'm ready to step back in action, don't fire me," he repeats. Well, to be honest, his relationship with Minho is not as comfortable as it is with Jinki. The guy kind of creeps him out, with his short sentences, his big, all-knowing eyes and whatnot. He reminds him of an owl, only not quite.
"Okay," he responds and Kibum is not quite sure which part of his ramblings he's responding to, but he's grateful either way.
He crouches down, rummaging under the counter for an apron. Rising back to his full height and tying it around his waist, he looks with concern over at Minho, still in his work clothes and still in the staff area. He takes a moment to just observe as the older cleans the counter's surface, making sure that even the smallest stain disappears. Did someone say obsessive perfectionist?
"Get your things straight," Minho says randomly, in that cryptic way of his, not even lifting his eyes from the surface in front of him.
Kibum is puzzled. "What... does that mean?"
"That guy," he replies, probably waiting for something but giving up soon. Kibum watches. "Just tell him you like him, already," he finishes off and ends his task to dig his right hand into the pocket of his apron. Walking closer, he leaves a white napkin in front of Kibum, before removing his job attire and slowly approaching the exit. He touches the knob. "Nice skin," he adds as an afterthought before cracking something that would resemble a smile and leaving.
Kibum quirks his head and picks the napkin up and turns it around. Numbers. Unfolding it, an unfamiliar handwriting style smiles up at him.
"Truth is I missed the bickering.
Call me?
-Jjong"
Kibum smiles stupidly, his fingers tracing the lines of his mobile through his jeans.
Bonus Scene:
"Get off my back already, I have to close up," Kibum demands while tugging insistedly at Jonghyun's cup from across the counter.
The other keeps taking sips from his straw, fingers clutched securely around the plastic. "That's rude, you know, I still haven't finished it," he complains after swallowing the ice-cold beverage. His lips form a pout.
"Don't do that, you'll get wrinkles," he frowns and instead of pulling harder, as expected, his hold loosens. His free hand comes up, gently but decisively grabbing the back of the other's neck. His fingers thread among the fine hair they find there and he leans in, stretching his torso over the counter, eventually meeting Jonghyun midway. His lips part, the other's tongue teasing his own, noses pressed side-to-side in an intimate display of affection.
And that's when Kibum pulls at the cup, withdrawing himself completely, but not before leaving a last peck on the corner of Jonghyun's mouth.
"I hate you," the older boy mouths towards the other and Kibum mimes the action, only replacing the words with "I love you too," while he quickly rinses the glass.
Jonghyun sighs. "I still want to report you to your boss, you know."