Chapter 13: Residual Heat

It was said that Seon Woo-min had “do-hwa-sal.”

That guy, as expected, draws people in regardless of gender.

The fortune teller had added that it wasn’t simply about romantic relationships but a “sal” that moved others’ emotions, and that in Woo-min’s case, he gathered people through outcomes like artwork or cooking.

But Bae Jun-ho wasn’t really listening.

“If you’re grateful, how about giving me your phone number?”

Thanks to the pompadour in front of him, Jun-ho’s confirmation bias was only growing stronger.

“I don’t have a phone.

Would you like to choose your beans?”

Despite Woo-min’s efforts to brush things off without embarrassing the man, given the long line and many onlookers, the pompadour remained undeterred.

He didn’t seem bothered by people glancing over; rather, he appeared to enjoy the attention.

“People without phones these days?

You should at least make your lies plausible.

No effort at all.

You must be some kind of big shot.”

“Excuse me—”

Seeing that the pompadour showed no sign of stopping, Bae Jun-ho stepped in, only to be immediately stopped.

Woo-min held him back with one hand and shook his head.

It meant he would handle it.

Nodding in understanding, Jun-ho stepped back.

Aside from being a skilled barista, Woo-min was also a veteran at customer service.

It was Woo-min that the exacting owner, who kept only six full-time staff (not part-timers) and had worked with them for years, had entrusted with managing the staff and overseeing the store.

“Then I’ll give you the default beans.

Please insert your card at the bottom.”

“Hey.

Are you listening to me?

Ha, f*ck.”

“Sir.”

Seon Woo-min’s expression hardened coldly.

“There are other customers present, so you can’t use that kind of language.

If you’re not going to order, please leave.

If you continue like this, I’ll have to report you for obstructing business.”

“Aha, what are you talking about?”

When Woo-min took a firm stance, the pompadour, who had seemed ready to argue further, surprisingly backed down quickly.

Saying things like “what do you mean report” and “don’t make a big deal out of some harmless fun,” he then flung the card from his finger toward Woo-min’s chest.

Jun-ho clicked his tongue, thinking the guy’s words and actions didn’t match at all.

Picking up the fallen card, Seon Woo-min calmly brushed back his disheveled hair and handed the swiped card back without a single tremor.

Afterward, Woo-min took orders from several groups.

The last person standing in the long line was the pierced man.

“Hello.”

The pierced man greeted him first, and today, Seon Woo-min found it so welcome it felt like a weight lifted off his chest.

Was it because he’d been dealing with such a strange character?

Exchanging normal greetings with a sensible person felt like a blessing.

Come to think of it, the pierced man had approached in a way that no one around could notice, only Woo-min himself.

That meant one of two things.

Either he was naturally considerate, or he was gay like himself.

Of course, this was on the premise that it was a sign of interest.

“Yes, hello.

May I take your order?”

Although he maintained a consistent tone and manner, Bae Jun-ho could tell that Woo-min was noticeably more relaxed than before.

The pierced man was a nice customer, one whom even Bae Jun-ho, who had a sharp eye for people along with the other Baekseok Coffee staff, viewed favorably.

Seon Woo-min acted cold as if he had zero interest, but it seems an internal closeness has built up.

“Kiwi juice, a hot latte, and an iced chocolate with lots of ice, please.

Make it really sweet?”

Even though he came with one friend, the pierced man ordered three drinks.

Without further questions, Seon Woo-min entered the order and handed over the vibration buzzer.

Woo-min, drained by the pompadour incident, let out a silent sigh.

As he was taking the ripened kiwis from the display case, Bae Jun-ho, who had been tamping coffee grounds, spoke as if remembering something.

“Min-mae, are you free this Friday?

Want to go to Mesh with me?”

Lee Do-kyung, who had stepped aside near the pickup counter and was playing a game on his phone, pricked up his ears.

Mesh was the main club on the club street, a name well-known even to ordinary people.

As a daily clubber, Do-kyung couldn’t not know it.

“Why Mesh all of a sudden?”

“A younger friend of mine is DJing that day.

I got an invitation.

My other friends say they’re too old and don’t want to go—they ask ‘What club at thirty?'”

“Aish, there’s no age limit for having fun.”

“So you’ll go?

I’d feel awkward going alone.

Huh?

Let’s go, let’s go.”

Seon Woo-min wasn’t keen on it, but since it was a rare request from Jun-ho, he said he’d think about it.

If he meant no, he would have refused on the spot, so Jun-ho was hopeful for a positive outcome.

Lee Do-kyung, who had been leaning against a pillar listening to their conversation, held out the vibrating buzzer over the counter.

“Your drinks are ready.

Enjoy.”

“Yes.”

From the tray holding the three drinks, Lee Do-kyung picked up the iced chocolate cup and handed it to Seon Woo-min.

Unsure if he was asking for more ice or if there was dust in it, Woo-min took the drink without any request and examined it.

“Drink it.

When you’re drained, something sweet works best.”

The iced chocolate was intended for him.

It was only then that Woo-min realized he was referring to the pompadour incident from earlier.

Looking down at the iced chocolate, he offered a somewhat awkward thank you.

Aside from the pierced man, there were occasional customers who bought drinks to give to staff saying “good work,” and it was sometimes difficult to simply refuse their pure goodwill.

Just then, the pompadour, who had downed his coffee in less than ten minutes, came to the pickup counter with his tray.

As Lee Do-kyung, who was grabbing a straw, raised an eyebrow and subtly shifted his body, for some reason the pompadour lost his balance and crumpled.

With a crash, even the tray Do-kyung was holding collided with him, scattering noisily.

“Oh my, watch your step.”

That must have hurt.

Huh?

Do-kyung clicked his tongue toward the sprawled pompadour’s head.

Kiwi juice and americano had splashed onto his pant leg.

About to throw a tantrum, the pompadour lifted his head sharply, but meeting the slightly unhinged-looking blue-grey eyes, he flinched.

This guy isn’t normal.

He tripped me and tells me to watch my step?

Best not to mess with him.

“Sir, are you alright?”

Rushing out from behind the counter, Seon Woo-min quickly helped the pompadour up.

An accident occurring inside the café was the café’s responsibility.

“Ah, let go!

This!”

His face bright red, the pompadour fled without a single apology to the pierced man for the damage.

Watching the door through which the pompadour disappeared amid loud curses, Seon Woo-min’s gaze returned and landed on Do-kyung’s pants.

“Sir, your pants…”

The pierced man was someone sensitive about fashion.

It would be understandable if he threw a fit demanding they pay for cleaning right away.

“Eh, it’s fine.”

Woo-min, who had been tense, paused for a moment at the pierced man’s casual head shake, then held out a dry towel.

“At least take this.

I’ll bring you new drinks.”

The more he thought about it, the angrier Woo-min got at the pompadour.

If he had just left quietly, it would have been fine, but he had kept glaring at Woo-min at the counter, ultimately causing his own fall.

“Please leave it, sir.

We’ll clean it up.”

As Do-kyung reached to pick up the glass shards scattered on the floor, his hand touched Woo-min’s.

Hastily pulling his hand away, Woo-min picked up the tray.

As the two straightened up, Do-kyung’s black leather wallet fell out.

Woo-min, about to pick it up, relieved to avoid the puddle of drinks on the floor, paused.

A single individually wrapped condom was peeking out from between the folds of the wallet.

An odd silence fell between them.

“Oh dear.”

“……”

“I’ll get it.

Thanks?”

Do-kyung retrieved the condom.

Woo-min silently averted his eyes from the condom as it went back into the wallet.

***

Lee Do-kyung always carried one condom of the brand he had used during his first time with Seon Woo-min in his wallet.

It was unlikely, but just in case, its purpose was to snap him back to his senses the moment he lost it and tried to wave his d*ck around anywhere.

“Of all times to drop that in front of Seon Woo-min…”

f*cking idiot.

Standing slanted in the smoking area near his home, Do-kyung chain-smoked cigarettes, raking roughly through his hair.

***

The day had felt unusually long.

As if his body aches had worsened, Seon Woo-min’s steps were heavy, and he nodded off on the subway, head drooping.

In his brief slumber, he thought he saw the pierced man.

He must have been the customer who stayed at the café until closing.

He recalled the sight of the man reaching out without hesitation to pick up the glass shards, even though he might have gotten hurt.

And the silver-wrapped condom, too.

Yawning silently, Woo-min didn’t let his thoughts go further.

He pulled out his phone.

Checking his accounts in turn, he noticed a notification on the fan page app he’d opened without much expectation: a message had arrived.

It was Crispy!!!MungBeanPancake, as he’d wondered.

He was currently online.

Crispy!!!MungBeanPancake (find_B12345): [Nok-ha!

Long time no see!]

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