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Wonjin had always waited for the day he’d get his soulmate mark. He had always wondered, longed to know – what would his soulmate’s first impression of him be? Everyone got the words when they turned of age, and as the days came closer Wonjin found himself getting increasingly more anxious.
Then came the day, and Wonjin was not ready for the words he received. He actively spent his morning not looking at it, waiting for himself to be prepared.
He doesn't think he could've ever been prepared for his words.
I love you, the words etched on his forearm said. Such strong words, for someone like Wonjin.
He had wondered about the words for a while, the meaning behind them constantly weighing on his mind. Could you really tell that you loved someone the first time you talked to them?
The words seemed to bore themselves through his skin, a constant reminder that someone loved him. Love was a difficult word for Wonjin to comprehend, something he never fully understood.
He always wondered what his soulmate was like, every simple action reminding him of them. Who was behind those words? Who could love him that much?
But Wonjin didn’t have time for much thought to it, ever since the words made their way onto his skin, the dark ink on his arm seemed to haunt him. Wonjin decided he had better worries than his soulmate — finals season was coming up. His solution to ignore his problems was to study at a coffee shop, avoiding even thinking about the 3 words on his arm.
Cafe Luvity was a small cafe - with employees that happened to be some of Wonjin’s closest friends. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision to go to a place where his friends worked, but at least he got the employee discount.
Hyeongjun passed him his coffee, it was just like any other day. Wonjin had finished with his classes and planned for a lengthy session of dedicated studying. By dedicated, that included several breaks of 2048 on his phone, of course. Wonjin was ready to take on the world.
Except today, Wonjin’s table was taken.
Wonjin sat at the table every day, so much so that even the employees who weren’t his friends remembered where he sat and glanced at the table before calling his name order.
Today, some loser with dyed brown hair was sitting there. He had some nerve, sitting at his table.
Wonjin was going to give him a piece of his mind.
Literally.
Wonjin snatched a napkin from its holder and folded it in half, tongue sticking out in concentration as he wrote his threats. Rage ran through his veins (or maybe, the caffeine. He couldn’t quite tell).
“Hi there,” Wonjin wrote, “I was wondering if this was your first time here? You’re sitting at my regular seat, haha. I’m a generous person, so I’ll let it slide today. But I better not see you sit there ever. Again. Thanks comrade!”
Wonjin was unsure where his courage to drop the letter on the table came from, but it definitely wasn't something he’d regularly do. Maybe Hyeongjun spiked his coffee. Or Minhee. He would excuse it as an “accident”, that liar.
Wonjin sat at the table by the counter, squinting at the boy sat at his window table. He watched the brunette, as he opened the napkin, eyes glossing over the badly scribbled words. He looked up at Wonjin, an amused look on his face.
Well fuck.
—
The next day, Wonjin had reclaimed his territory. A triumphant look on his face, as he sipped his caramel latte with 5 shots of espresso, an additional 5 of sweetener with an unreasonable amount of extra whipped cream. He was glad he was friends with the baristas, any other cafe probably wouldn’t let his order slide.
He had gotten quite far through his essay, an informational text that his brain didn't have the amount of thoughts for. The cafe chimes rang, and Wonjin craned his neck to see who was entering.
Oh, it was the boy from yesterday.
He was coming in his direction.
Wonjin wanted to hide, run away. But as the boy approached, Wonjin noticed a note in his hand. The boy, now passing him, dropped it before moving to the next table.
Wonjin reached out for it, staring at the boy while raising an eyebrow. He read the words on his paper.
“My apologies for sitting at your beloved table. I also frequent here, just usually in the mornings. I did not notice how much it meant to you! However I have noticed there is another seat at the table. I have grown to quite like the ambience there, would you ever mind if I sat with you? I will not be a disturbance,” the letter read, signed off with a smiley face.
Wonjin had some thinking to do.
—
Usually Wonjin was a petty person. Scratch that, he was a petty person, period.
So why was he actually considering letting the cute stranger from a coffee shop sitting next to him of all people?
Wonjin knew that the person he was going to complain to about this situation really wasn’t the best to complain about, but they chose to be his friend! Kim Taeyoung loved him, he knew it.
The same Taeyoung was pelting paper balls at him.
“Hey, watch it,” Wonjin seethed, shielding his newly dyed hair from Taeyoung’s (puny) wrath.
“I wouldn’t have to watch anything if you got your life together.” Taeyoung shot a particularly large paper ball at his head, almost like he was a basketball hoop.
Why’d he even come to this guy? He knew he should've talked to Woobin instead.
Woobin would’ve understood him. Maybe. Probably not, actually. But he wouldn’t be throwing paper balls at his head, he knew that for sure.
“Seriously though,” Taeyoung graced him with no paper balls for a minute, and Wonjin found himself listening to one of the rare times that Taeyoung gave him advice.
“Was he really that cute? Why’re you seriously thinking of letting a stranger sit next to you? Who are you and what did you do to Ham Wonjin?”
Wonjin paused. The boy was kinda cute.
“You’re hopeless.”
The paper balls started flying again.
—
Wonjin walked into the cafe, clutching onto his post it note. As he spotted the boy – sat at the table next to his regular spot, he mustered up the courage to walk over.
The note wasn’t much, but he thought he was going to explode. He wasn’t this scared since last semester, when he completely forgot he had an exam and bombed it.
He collected his coffee, if you could even call the damned drink that, walking over to the boy. He double checked that he spelt all the words in the note correctly.
“Hey loser.” The letter read. “I shall grace you with my permission to sit at MY table for the rest of the time you come here in the evenings. You’re most welcome.”
He finally dropped the note by the other boy’s keyboard, walking over to his own table at record speed. He watched the other boy read it, as he scribbled down a response.
He threw it over to Wonjin, paper ball style. This was not a pleasant encounter.
“Please accept my deepest gratitude.” Signed off with another smiley face.
Wonjin didn’t laugh. Not even a chuckle came out.
(He laughed. A big embarrassing laugh came out of his mouth, making Serim at the counter jump in his seat.)
Wonjin didn’t think his nervousness could get worse than before he sent the note, but as he saw the boy collect his stuff to move – Yeah, It was possible.
He felt his heart beat faster as the boy, who was somehow even cuter up close, approached his table with a crooked smile.
Wow.
Wonjin was gay.
The two had sat in an awkward silence for their remaining time together at the cafe, Wonjin started to find himself nearly dozing off. His eyes were barely keeping themselves open.
He could feel his eyelids start to fall shut. He felt a light poke in his shoulder, and he squinted his eyes open to be met with the blurry view of The Boy holding a cup of coffee.
He practically blinked and the boy was gone.
Now conscious, he took a look at his cup. Words were written on the side of it.
“I asked the barista for your order. He said your name was Wonjin? Cute name, but this is the most stupid drink I’ve ever heard in my life. Take care of yourself, loser.”
Wonjin tried not to blush. Hyeongjun was sat not even a few meters away from him – he’d never hear the end of it.
—
“So,” Taeyoung began, a smirk on his face.
“Shut up.” Wonjin groaned out.
“You kept a cup. Because Coffee Boy wrote on it.”
Wonjin and Taeyoung stared at the paper cup, kept at the back of the fridge – empty.
“It’s a good cup,” Wonjin tried to argue weakly, “I’m saving the environment. Think about the turtles, Taeyoung.”
“Whatever you say, loverboy,” Taeyoung laughed at him.
“You’re homophobic.”
“And you’re in love,”
“I haven't even talked to him!”
“That’s even worse.” Taeyoung fake gagged, “You’re a loser, Ham Wonjin.”
“At least I haven't been in love with my best friend for years.”
“You, talking about my love life? Wow, so wise!”
Wonjin ran out of the room with his ears covered before Taeyoung could speak more.
There was no way that Wonjin could seriously like this stranger. Taeyoung was out of his mind. Taeyoung was delusional. He was simply projecting. Wonjin decided to forget about the idea of him liking Coffee Boy entirely.
Spoiler alert: he didn’t.
–
Wonjin found himself waiting for Coffee Boy to show up. Pathetic, he knows. The two had started exchanging notes across the next few days – small napkins passed between the two.
It was approaching 9, and Coffee Boy hadn't shown up.
“Hey, where’s your boyfriend?” Serim teased as he mopped the floor.
“I swear, I’m going to kill Hyeongjun.”
“Hyeongjun didn’t tell me anything,” Serim smiled deviously, “It was Minhee.”
“I’m going to burn this cafe to the ground.”
“Where else would you see your Coffee Boy, then?”
“I hate you,” Wonjin glared, “I hope you get fired.”
“Allen loves me too much for that.”
“Allen loves me too!”
“You’re not the one who got promoted,” Serim said, waving a hand at Wonjin as he made his rounds around the cafe.
“I don’t even work here!”
“You’re on the blacklist for any job interviews here.”
Wonjin did not know that.
“You’re missing out, I’d be a great employee.”
“Whatever you say,” Serim sighed, tying his apron back on.
—
“Hey Hyeongjun,” Wonjin tried to be casual about his stalking. Hyeongjun raised an eyebrow, not fully looking up at him. Wonjin couldn’t be certain he was listening.
“You know that one guy who comes and sits with me nearly every day?” He hesitantly spoke.
Hyeongjun hummed, sorting coins into the register.
“What days does he come here?”
Now that got his attention. Hyeongjun snorted in his face. A devilish smile came on his face.
“Oh? Who’s asking?”
Wonjin flicked a cookie crumb at him.
“Give me my answers.” He pleaded, lips pouting in an attempt to convince him.
“Or what?” Hyeongjun leans over the counter, arms folding to cushion his body.
“I’ll tell Minhee tha-” Wonjin felt a slap across his mouth.
“Quiet! Allen is right there. Allen loves to spill,” Hyeongjun hissed, voice barely over a whisper, “I’ll give you answers.”
Wonjin could barely conceal his embarrassingly wide grin.
“Jungmo is in a band called Cravity. He doesn’t come in on Thursdays.”
Cravity?
Oh.
“Isn’t Taeyoung in the band? I thought you’d know Jungmo.”
“I didn’t even know his name until right now,” Wonjin deadpanned.
“You’re hopeless.” Hyeongjun returned to stacking coins to pass the time.
“You’re not any better!”
Hyeongjun was not listening. He was staring lovingly at his phone background, which was Minhee at the beach, shirtless and eating ice cream.
Wonjin hated gay people.
Metaphorically, of course.
—
Wonjin felt an embarrassing amount of excitement as Jungmo (Who he now knew the name of.) walked into the store the following day.
Now that Wonjin knew that Jungmo was, well, Jungmo, he realized that yeah, they’ve met.
At band practice, to be exact.
He vividly remembers Jungmo spilling water on him and running away, not a single word out of him.
Still cute. Even cuter actually, if that was possible.
Wonjin would never say that out loud. Taeyoung would laugh in his face.
Forget Taeyoung laughing at him, Woobin probably would too.
Embarrassing.
Jungmo walks up to his table, sitting down, and only now does Wonjin notice the air between them.
Wonjin passed him a napkin.
“I got rid of a shot of expresso. I hope you’re happier now.”
He received an answer rather hastily.
“A whole shot less? You’re insane.”
“I know right. How am I surviving without 5 shots?”
A laugh was heard across the table.
Wonjin looked up at the breathy sound, eyes widening as he took in the sight of Jungmo's beaming face.
And then he blurted out those words he had been thinking about since he remembered that Jungmo knew him instead of taking his time and writing.
Jungmo visibly panicked when he saw Wonjin’s mouth open to speak.
“It was you?”
Jungmo raised an eyebrow, urging Wonjin to explain his remark.
“You're in Cravity? Do you remember me? I’m Taeyoung’s roommate. You kinda spilled water on me.”
Wonjin found himself rambling on, and he looked up to see Jungmo’s fond expression looking at him. After a pause of silence, he said the same words etched into Wonjin’s skin.
“I love you.”
Someone wolf-whistled.
Damn Serim. Actually, maybe it was Allen.
Either way, the noise broke the tension and Wonjin started laughing.
He laughed so hard that he choked on the extra whipped cream, coughing his lungs out.
“Dude, we were having a moment,” Jungmo complained, stretching his hand out to pat at Wonjin’s back.
Wonjin looked up and saw half the staff crowded behind the counter, invested in their confession.
“You all suck. I’m rating you 0 stars on Yelp for this,” Wonjin glared at them.
“Give us at least 1, you met Jungmo here!” Allen shouted from the back of the crowd.
“I’ll figure out how to do negative stars then.”
“Suit yourself,” Jungmo muttered, arm pulling away from Wonjin’s side. Wonjin pulled it back, embarrassingly quickly. Jungmo laughed softly.
—
“You were fooling no one, Wonjin!” Taeyoung yelled as Wonjin walked in with Jungmo to the band’s practice.
“I knew ever since I saw that coffee cup,” Taeyoung continued, “No one could have handwriting so horrible.”
“You’re meant to be rooting for us,” Jungmo reminded him, squinting his eyes at him.
“You disgust me.”
Minhee sipped cooly from his waterbottle with a straw stuck in it.
He thought he was so cool.
Seongmin glanced at the 3 of them before shrugging and giving up.
They were all lucky that Wonjin dealt with them at all. He wouldn’t let that slide with anyone else.
Jungmo smiled at Wonjin over his shoulder, lips going to peck at his cheek.
“You’re disgusting.”
“Quiet, Taeyoung,” Jungmo continued, “At least I have the courage to confess.”
Jungmo’s eyes glossed over to Seongmin, in the corner of the room.
“I’m not the one who wrote a song about their Coffee Shop Boy.”
Wonjin perked up, looking at Jungmo.
“You wrote me a song?”
Minhee and Seongmin groaned from their respective corners of the room.
“Booooo,” Seongmin called, crumpling a piece of old sheet music and throwing it half-heartedly at them. Wonjin sees where Taeyoung gets it from now.
The band members exchanged a look, before finally setting up.
Jungmo pulled the guitar strap over his head and smiled at Wonjin. As he began to sing, he would look at him – a blooming feeling appeared in Wonjin’s chest as he listened to the lyrics.
Wonjin had never felt happier.