Jisung

Outside, the Shibuya streets were coming alive under the steady glow of neon lights, but inside the cafe, the rush was over. The main hall stood completely empty, with all the chairs already flipped up onto the tables for the night. Minho sat behind the cash register, lazily scrolling through his phone. He still had his canvas work apron on over a bomber jacket, his shoulders heavy with a dull fatigue as his thoughts drifted toward a warm bed.

A familiar knock cut through the quiet, making Minho lift his head. Just behind the glass door stood Jisung, holding two steaming cups. Meeting the barista's gaze, he offered a warm smile, tilting his head to the side.

— Can I come in? Jisung asked, his voice slightly muffled by the glass.

Minho turned the key in the lock, letting a rush of cool night air and expensive cologne into the dim cafe.

In the back room, Jisung immediately left the cups on the table, threw off his jacket, and stepped close. Before the barista could even take off his apron, the guy pulled him into a solid, firm embrace right by the edge of the table. Minho just exhaled, relaxing into the warmth of his boyfriend's arms.

— How was your day? Minho asked softly.

Instead of answering right away, the man leaned down, leaving a brief kiss on his lips. As he pulled back slightly, Jisung brought his own hand up to the side of Minho's head. His fingers brushed against the temple, sliding slowly down to the cheekbone in a grounding caress that seemed to physically wash away the residual exhaustion of the long shift. Minho's hands came up to rest loosely against the man's chest.

Jisung smiled with the corner of his lips, his thumb lingering on Minho's cheek.

— My day? I spent the whole afternoon stuck in endless meetings, completely unable to focus, Jisung said, his hand sliding down to rest against Minho's thigh. — Every single thought was about you. Are you all done here? If you're hungry, we can grab some dinner on the way home.