kimchi spaghetti
Baekhyun liked the boy who came into the café he worked at every Friday at 3pm.
Well, like is an understatement.
He really liked the boy.
He liked observing his pouty lips. In the most un-stalker-ish way of course.
He noticed every detail. From how his attire was always a basic graphic tee paired with jeans, a dark shade of blue - simple, serious, understated. His shirt… usually a primary color, but more often than not, black, white or grey. He seemed to have a preference for darker shades of grey, Baekhyun noticed.
He also noticed how he always came in with a pair of white headphones over his ears, and never once took them off. The boy would enter, headphone over his ears, avoiding any eye contact and take his place at what soon became his seat at table number 6 by the window.
(Of course, Baekhyun might have made sure to usher guests to any table but table 6 in the hour or so leading up to 3pm every Friday.)
The boy would examine the menu Baekhyun handed him, always aloof yet polite, with a small smile in place of a spoken thanks. Nothing was betrayed from those eyes. Baekhyun couldn’t figure if that boy remembered him after the 17th visit. But Baekhyun remembered him from his second visit.
Then, like clockwork, the boy would turn to Baekhyun after 3 minutes and order a café mocha with full-creamed milk.
It would take Baekhyun another 3 minutes to prepare it. 2 minutes to plate it and serve it, with a “enjoy your drink” which never got him a response and sounded more curious and longing than how the same words were supposed to sound coming from a waiter. Baekhyun realized all this rather belatedly. But he never changed. He couldn’t he thought… it was a little too late.
It would take the boy 45 minutes to finish his café mocha.
Then, the boy would ask for the menu again. And this time, he would flip to the last page, trail his finger down the page, and stop at the words “Kimchi spaghetti” before turning to Baekhyun and with the same polite, distant smile, ask for “one kimchi spaghetti, please”.
A few times, Baekhyun caught himself in a daze, not registering what the boy was saying, as he stared at the way the boy’s finger slowly moved down the page.
Every time, the boy would sit at table 6, never uttering a single word besides his orders, never making more eye contact than necessary, and never ordering anything different, anything more.
By the 9th visit, Baekhyun started wondering why he even bothered perusing through the menu. He did not understand why the boy had to even look at it when each time, he ordered the same thing. He wondered if the boy grew sick of having the same thing each time
But he still handed him the menu all the same.
He still took his order, the same, each time.
He realized he could write the order in advance, but he never did.
Maybe he was waiting for the one day when the boy would surprise him.
-
One time, Baekhyun had to tell him that sorry, but we are out of kimchi spaghetti. Something about the supplier running out of an ingredient. He felt an unexplained dread pool in his stomach as he said those words to the boy’s expectant face. He didn’t understand why. It happened from time to time, and people simply changed their orders.
But maybe this boy was different.
The boy just looked at him blankly for a moment, his finger still poised over “kimchi spaghetti”. Baekyun thought he saw confusion, bewilderment and a momentary fear in the boy’s eyes.
All Baekhyun could think of was shit shit shit what do I do now what do I say now?
But before he could offer an alternative dish, the boy simply turned back to the menu, shut it resolutely -maybe even a little angrily, Baekhyun thought but he must have imagined it- and quietly walked out of the café.
This was the 12th time he came and Baekhyun feared it was his last.
He spent the entire week moping, hoping to see that boy again but somehow convinced he would never step foot into the shop again. Baekhyun hated kimchi spaghetti for one whole week.
But the boy returned the next week, at 3pm, on Friday.
-
Baekhyun wondered if the boy could hear him through his white headphones. He had done his research. That pair was expensive… one of the best noise-cancelling ones. Sometimes, Baekhyun felt like walking up to him and asking him why he never took them off. Sometimes, Baekhyun felt a pinch of annoyance and grumbled to himself behind the counter, how rude it was for the boy to always have headphones on even when another was talking to him.
-
“Our latte is really good.” He mumbled. The boy continued examining the menu.
Maybe he was too soft. He really needed to stop this mumbling habit of his. It was Sehun’s thing really… that and the lisp. Maybe he was hanging out too much with the younger boy.
Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Our latte is,” he leaned forward a little, and at that point, the boy looked up… a little confused and Baekhyun felt his voice catch in his throat. But he continued, “really good.”
The boy looked at him with those headphones over his head… the most incredulous expression on his face.
Before Baekhyun could say another word or begin digging a hole in the ground, the boy simply looked back at the menu. Baekhyun swore he saw the hint of a furrowing of brows, before the boy turned back to him with a small terse smile, as he said the same words he said every week… robotically, mechanically, “Café mocha. Full-cream milk. Please.”
And that was that.
Baekhyun was sure he heard a minute embarrassment, a tense anger in the boy’s words.
-
This time, Baekhyun spent 5 minutes making the drink, all the while making faces at himself behind the coffee machine, mumbling, grumbling to himself for being a smart Alec and how rude he thought the boy was. He plated the drink wrongly, spilt half the cup’s contents in his haste and spent another 5 minutes making another.
He served it, and he couldn’t suppress the angry flush on his face. The boy might have seen it, and although he gave the same polite smile when accepting the drink, Baekhyun thought he saw a murmur of apology and forgiveness.
But for all his grumbles… all the times he hated how embarrassed he felt… how he felt like a fool, compelled to talk to the boy yet getting nothing but the same reply, as though Baekhyun didn’t exist in his eyes, as though eh didn’t have even a fraction of an impression of Baekhyun as Baekhyun had of him (so insignificant it hurt to think of it)…
For all this… Baekhyun still liked him.
And he spent every Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, waiting for the next Friday, when the boy would once again enter the cafe at 3pm, headphones over ears, and order his full-creamed café mocha and kimchi spaghetti.
web counter
-
part 1.
idek what this is.
and of course in exo fandom, kimchi spaghetti is highly relevant stuff.
Well, like is an understatement.
He really liked the boy.
He liked observing his pouty lips. In the most un-stalker-ish way of course.
He noticed every detail. From how his attire was always a basic graphic tee paired with jeans, a dark shade of blue - simple, serious, understated. His shirt… usually a primary color, but more often than not, black, white or grey. He seemed to have a preference for darker shades of grey, Baekhyun noticed.
He also noticed how he always came in with a pair of white headphones over his ears, and never once took them off. The boy would enter, headphone over his ears, avoiding any eye contact and take his place at what soon became his seat at table number 6 by the window.
(Of course, Baekhyun might have made sure to usher guests to any table but table 6 in the hour or so leading up to 3pm every Friday.)
The boy would examine the menu Baekhyun handed him, always aloof yet polite, with a small smile in place of a spoken thanks. Nothing was betrayed from those eyes. Baekhyun couldn’t figure if that boy remembered him after the 17th visit. But Baekhyun remembered him from his second visit.
Then, like clockwork, the boy would turn to Baekhyun after 3 minutes and order a café mocha with full-creamed milk.
It would take Baekhyun another 3 minutes to prepare it. 2 minutes to plate it and serve it, with a “enjoy your drink” which never got him a response and sounded more curious and longing than how the same words were supposed to sound coming from a waiter. Baekhyun realized all this rather belatedly. But he never changed. He couldn’t he thought… it was a little too late.
It would take the boy 45 minutes to finish his café mocha.
Then, the boy would ask for the menu again. And this time, he would flip to the last page, trail his finger down the page, and stop at the words “Kimchi spaghetti” before turning to Baekhyun and with the same polite, distant smile, ask for “one kimchi spaghetti, please”.
A few times, Baekhyun caught himself in a daze, not registering what the boy was saying, as he stared at the way the boy’s finger slowly moved down the page.
Every time, the boy would sit at table 6, never uttering a single word besides his orders, never making more eye contact than necessary, and never ordering anything different, anything more.
By the 9th visit, Baekhyun started wondering why he even bothered perusing through the menu. He did not understand why the boy had to even look at it when each time, he ordered the same thing. He wondered if the boy grew sick of having the same thing each time
But he still handed him the menu all the same.
He still took his order, the same, each time.
He realized he could write the order in advance, but he never did.
Maybe he was waiting for the one day when the boy would surprise him.
-
One time, Baekhyun had to tell him that sorry, but we are out of kimchi spaghetti. Something about the supplier running out of an ingredient. He felt an unexplained dread pool in his stomach as he said those words to the boy’s expectant face. He didn’t understand why. It happened from time to time, and people simply changed their orders.
But maybe this boy was different.
The boy just looked at him blankly for a moment, his finger still poised over “kimchi spaghetti”. Baekyun thought he saw confusion, bewilderment and a momentary fear in the boy’s eyes.
All Baekhyun could think of was shit shit shit what do I do now what do I say now?
But before he could offer an alternative dish, the boy simply turned back to the menu, shut it resolutely -maybe even a little angrily, Baekhyun thought but he must have imagined it- and quietly walked out of the café.
This was the 12th time he came and Baekhyun feared it was his last.
He spent the entire week moping, hoping to see that boy again but somehow convinced he would never step foot into the shop again. Baekhyun hated kimchi spaghetti for one whole week.
But the boy returned the next week, at 3pm, on Friday.
-
Baekhyun wondered if the boy could hear him through his white headphones. He had done his research. That pair was expensive… one of the best noise-cancelling ones. Sometimes, Baekhyun felt like walking up to him and asking him why he never took them off. Sometimes, Baekhyun felt a pinch of annoyance and grumbled to himself behind the counter, how rude it was for the boy to always have headphones on even when another was talking to him.
-
“Our latte is really good.” He mumbled. The boy continued examining the menu.
Maybe he was too soft. He really needed to stop this mumbling habit of his. It was Sehun’s thing really… that and the lisp. Maybe he was hanging out too much with the younger boy.
Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Our latte is,” he leaned forward a little, and at that point, the boy looked up… a little confused and Baekhyun felt his voice catch in his throat. But he continued, “really good.”
The boy looked at him with those headphones over his head… the most incredulous expression on his face.
Before Baekhyun could say another word or begin digging a hole in the ground, the boy simply looked back at the menu. Baekhyun swore he saw the hint of a furrowing of brows, before the boy turned back to him with a small terse smile, as he said the same words he said every week… robotically, mechanically, “Café mocha. Full-cream milk. Please.”
And that was that.
Baekhyun was sure he heard a minute embarrassment, a tense anger in the boy’s words.
-
This time, Baekhyun spent 5 minutes making the drink, all the while making faces at himself behind the coffee machine, mumbling, grumbling to himself for being a smart Alec and how rude he thought the boy was. He plated the drink wrongly, spilt half the cup’s contents in his haste and spent another 5 minutes making another.
He served it, and he couldn’t suppress the angry flush on his face. The boy might have seen it, and although he gave the same polite smile when accepting the drink, Baekhyun thought he saw a murmur of apology and forgiveness.
But for all his grumbles… all the times he hated how embarrassed he felt… how he felt like a fool, compelled to talk to the boy yet getting nothing but the same reply, as though Baekhyun didn’t exist in his eyes, as though eh didn’t have even a fraction of an impression of Baekhyun as Baekhyun had of him (so insignificant it hurt to think of it)…
For all this… Baekhyun still liked him.
And he spent every Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, waiting for the next Friday, when the boy would once again enter the cafe at 3pm, headphones over ears, and order his full-creamed café mocha and kimchi spaghetti.
web counter
-
part 1.
idek what this is.
and of course in exo fandom, kimchi spaghetti is highly relevant stuff.