pairing: college student!yangyang x barista!reader
genre: coffee shop au | fluff
summary: yangyang is a regular at the cafe, but the first time you meet him, you accidentally mess up his order. yangyang is too flustered to form words whenever he looks at you, so he doesn’t say anything about your mistake, but when you remember his incorrect drink every time he comes into the cafe, he can’t help but speak up.
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this is part of the moonlight cafe series — please read the preface before continuing reading
he walked through the door first, but several other guys followed in after him, the silver bell above the door jingle many times
you died a little inside when the group of seven guys lined up behind the already long line at the cash register
although nights were usually not busy at the cafe, 11pm on friday night always brought you a crowd of people
you named this the “death rush” in your head
trying to keep a smile on your face while simultaneously making several cups of coffee, yangyang notices you from his spot in line
he likes the braids you have in your hair, and the colorful hairbands that tie them in place
he’s amazed by how fast you move, from the cash register to the espresso machine and then back to the customer
“should we go somewhere else? it’s taking kind of long.” ten mumbles next to yangyang, and he’s quick to defend the barista
“hey! can’t you see she’s the only one working on a friday night? plus, we all know this cafe is worth the wait.”
yangyang is glad no one notices his quick defense over the girl working tonight, and shoves his hands in his pockets the further he and his groups of friends move up in line
eventually, they reach the front of the line and order their drinks, asking for them to be brought to their table
yangyang hides behind hendery when he orders, only speaking loud enough for the barista to hear him
hendery gives him a quizzical look as they walk to their table
“what was that?”
“what was what?” yangyang tries to play it off, but hendery’s inquiry draws the attention of the whole table to yangyang
“you were like a mouse when we ordered. I don’t even remember the last time you were that quiet in a public place.” yangyang kicks hendery under the table as everyone laughs
“maybe it has something to do with the cute barista?” kun speaks up, and all eyes turn to the counter where you’re making several iced americanos
yangyang feels sparks of jealousy start to bubble in his stomach as he watches his friends check you out
he doesn’t understand why he feels the urge to cover all of their eyes and turn the attention away from you
how do you have this affect on him already?
“hey, stop staring.” yangyang mutters, and the table erupts into giggles and mocking whistles at yangyang’s indirect admission to kun’s comment
the noise from the table quiets down as you approach with a tray full of drinks
“okay, so, 3 iced americanos...” you mumble as you place the americanos in front of kun, hendery, and ten, “an iced latte,” you smile at winwin as he accepts his drink, “and an iced matcha.” you say as you place yangyang’s incorrect order down in front of him
“if there’s anything else you guys need, just let me know!” you say with a warm smile and make your way back to your counter
everyone at the table stares at yangyang’s green iced matcha as if it’s a little alien that landed in this coffee shop
“didn’t you order an iced green tea?” winwin asks
“yeah...” yangyang trails off, “it’s an honest mistake. I’ll go ask if she can remake it.” he decides, grabbing the drink and standing up
the moment he turns around to walk to the counter, he stops dead in his tracks
yangyang’s heartbeat races at the sight of you cleaning the espresso machine and he suddenly thinks about what he’ll say to you
what if your smile turns into a frown...
... and it’ll be all his fault??
he doesn’t have the guts to go up to the counter and talk to you
at least, not yet
so yangyang sits back down, cradling the drink carefully on his lap
“you know what? I’ve never tried matcha, I might like it.” he tries to play off his indecisiveness, taking a hesitant sip from his drink
the whole table watches him while he can’t control his facial expressions, twisting into a disgusted look at his first taste of matcha
“it’s great,” yangyang coughs, “I love it.”
the next time yangyang and his friends walk into the cafe, you’re working again
but it’s not that busy as last time, and you’re able to take more interest into the group of friends
“oh! it’s you guys again! same drinks as last time?” yangyang and his friends are amazed at how you remembered them, much less their orders
as kun pays, they all find a seat and you bring their drinks to them
“alright, everyone: 3 iced americanos, an iced latte, and an iced matcha!”
suddenly, the whole table is reminded of your mistake from last time as you set down all the drinks and walk away from the table
yangyang reluctantly looks at his drink, already able to taste the texture of matcha on his tongue
“you should go fix it.” kun speaks up
“yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” yangyang replies
“why? I thought you loved matcha.” ten and hendery cackle at ten’s joke, no doubt thinking about the multiple disgusted facial expressions yangyang pulled off the last time he had this drink
“oh, it was an... experience.” yangyang trails off, “but I want my iced green tea tonight.”
he stands up, turns to the counter, and once again freezes
he didn’t notice that your hair looks different today
it’s out of the braids he saw you in last time, falling around your chin and shoulders, a velvet headband holding the strands out of your eyes as you clean the counter
he wonders what it would be like to make actual eye contact with you
would you laugh at his jokes?
what kind of coffee do you like to drink?
would you let him listen to your favorite playlist?
yangyang’s knees go weak at his thoughts, and he sits back down in his seat before he falls over
“you know what? I do love matcha.” he takes a sip through his straw, the chalky milk sliding down his throat uncomfortably
matcha is an acquired taste, and darn it, yangyang will acquire it
the next time yangyang walks into the cafe, he’s by himself
it’s a slow sunday night; there’s no one in the cafe other than you, and yangyang is hesitant to walk in
“a-are you guys open?” he pops his head through the door, the jingling of the bell alerting you that a customer is here
“of course! we never close.” yangyang gulps as he fully steps through the doors and into the lighting of the cafe, “oh! hey, you’re one of those guys that comes in with his friends, right?”
“my name’s yangyang.” he doesn’t even realize he’s introducing himself until the words leave his mouth
he hopes you say his name back to him
he just wants to know what it sounds like on your lips
“yangyang? that’s an interesting name. I'm y/n.” you show off your name that’s embroidered into your apron as yangyang walks closer to the cash register
just as yangyang suspected: his name on your lips makes his heart soar and his head dizzy
he can no longer deny his crush on the barista of his favorite cafe
“you get an iced matcha, right?” you move to start making the drink
“WAIT!”
yangyang practically yells, his voice echoing off of the walls of the store
you’re struck still in your place, a hand over your chest in slight fright
yangyang thinks it might be the absence of people (and his friends) in the cafe, or maybe the late, late hours of the night boosting him
but he has enough courage to make eye contact and step closer to you
“this is gonna be so awkward, but... I don’t like matcha. I hate matcha.”
you’re even more shocked, and now confused
“but you ordered matcha the first time you came in here...?” you mumble, yangyang finding your confusion to be the cutest thing he’s ever seen
“no, I didn’t. I think you might’ve misheard me... I wanted an iced green tea...” yangyang admits
you gasp quietly, the hand on your chest coming up to cover your mouth slightly
“oh no.” you mumble, your eyes turning down and you're lips frowning as you drop your hand, “oh my gosh, and you drank that matcha every time you came in here! I'm so, so sorry!”
“it’s okay, honestly.” yangyang really doesn’t like to see you frown like that, and he tries to make your sad expression disappear
“please, I feel so bad. what can I do to make it up to you?”
yangyang’s cheeks immediately flare up at your question, a thought suddenly popping into his head
now, he’s sure the only reason he has any courage to mumble out his thought was all thanks to the late sunday night fatigue
“go out on a date with me.”
it’s your turn to heat up at his words, and you bite your lip at his proposition
“you know, most people just ask for a free drink...” you trail off, loving the way yangyang starts to stumble out some incoherent sentences
“w-well, I wouldn't mind a f-free drink either, a-and you don’t-t have to-”
“I’m just joking,” you laugh, leaning your arms against your side of the counter, “I'd love to go on a date.”
“would it be weird to have that date right now...?” yangyang asks, and you raise your eyebrows at him
“in my work place? where I'll make both of our drinks? and we’ll sit at the table I just cleaned?”
“oh, yeah, no- you’re right that’s too-” yangyang begins to mumble again, making you amused at his wavering confidence
“I'm just joking. of course we can have our date now. what did you want to drink again?” yangyang smiles at you, realizing that he loves how natural it is for you to tease him
he leans his arms against his side of the counter, coming in closer to you
Hendery + Slight Angst to Fluff + “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” + “Please talk to me about it.”
The ticking of the clock on the wall. The dripping of your bathroom sink faucet. The vanilla scent burning from the candle across the room. It has been four hours of working, hunching over your desk, drinking bitter coffee to hopefully keep your senses alert, and you have come down to only focusing on these three things. Your eyes are trained on the papers in front of you, but your brain refuses to read the words on them, too stuffed with information to take in anymore. You feel tears burn at the back of your eyes, maybe from how tired they are or maybe from how you have several more hours of work to do.
At that moment, the bedroom door opens and Hendery walks in to see you at the desk chair. You don’t turn around to acknowledge his presence, you don’t even try to wipe the tears that are threatening to spill. You feel silly for crying over something like “too much work” when there are worse things that you could be crying over, but you can’t help but feel tired, overworked, and discouraged.
“You’re still up?” Hendery asks, moving around the room behind you, no doubt getting ready for bed. “I’m gonna take a shower.” He groans, no doubt stretching himself out and loosening his muscles from the day’s activities. When you don’t respond once again, he walks up behind you and leans over your hunched figure, one arm propped up on the desk as he looks over the papers you keep staring at.
“Sorry,” He whispers huskily, “Am I bothering you?” For some reason, his words bring more tears to your eyes, a knot filled with emotion and fatigue starting to twist in your chest. Hendery giggles when you don’t respond again, thinking you’re too focused on your work to reply to him, and starts poking your puffed cheeks.
“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” He sings and pokes down your arms and sides, your ticklish spots, and laughs at how you react to him.
“Hendery, please, stop.” Your tired and water-clogged voice startles him, and he only now notices the tear stains that splatter down onto the papers below you. His smile fades and worry instantly fills him. Hendery bends down so that his knees touch the floor and he’s sitting back on his heels; he turns the desk chair so that you’re facing him, his hands on your knees. Your head hangs down and Hendery searches for your eyes.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Hendery isn’t the best with these types of things. He knows what you like and what to do to make you smile, but he can’t stand to see you cry. How does he bring the smile back to your face when you look so downtrodden? “Please talk to me about it.”
“I have so much work.” You mumble out, more tears running down your face, “I’ve been sitting here for hours, and it hurts to read, and I can’t stop crying-” Hendery rubs your knees, then moves his hands to intertwine your fingers together. He kisses your knuckles, the action surprisingly calming you and making you glance up at him. You only now notice that he’s not wearing a shirt, a silver necklace hanging around his neck, and the small light on your desk illuminating the dips in his collarbones and biceps.
“It’ll be okay. You overworked yourself, sweetie. How about you take a break-”
“No! I can’t take a break, I have too much work.” You sigh and shake your head. Hendery kisses up your arms and shoulders, replacing his pokes from earlier. He’s slow and his movements are purposeful; his gaze reaches yours, his radiant eyes partially covered by his overgrown hair.
“I can tell. But we’re going to take a shower, then drink some tea and get you some medicine, and then we’ll figure out your work.” Hendery’s voice is more stern than before, standing up and tugging you out of your seat with him, taking a moment to wipe your tear-stained cheeks. “...Together. We’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone.”
