Chapter Text
Ten squints in the gold afternoon sunlight, muffling a yawn with the back of his hand. After almost three hours, he’s nearly finished with his long drive home from a weekend away.
Not that he can complain, really - he’d jumped at the chance to visit Doyoung and Taeyong down the coast, especially after they announced their engagement. It’s not like they were going to tease themselves about their disgustingly sweet and absolutely ridiculous romance, after all; Ten takes his job as Taeyong’s childhood best friend very seriously in that regard.
And anyway, Ten doesn’t mind the drive back home as much as his body does. He can already tell that he’s going to be stiff and sore tomorrow. It’s a small price to pay for such a fun visit. Even if it does mean getting back so late in the afternoon that he’ll barely have time to starfish on his sofa and run a load of laundry before bed.
Drinking Doyoung under the table and cracking lewd jokes at Taeyong’s expense to celebrate their impending marital bliss? So worth it.
Ten yawns again, wrinkling his nose. He’s not that far from home, but maybe he should grab coffee. That hazy amber sunlight is warming up the car just so, and the even drone of the road has always made him drowsy.
“Hyung, is that the second time you’ve yawned in, like, a minute?”
Yangyang’s voice is a little tinny through Ten’s phone speaker, but his teasing comes through easily enough. The snark is keeping Ten awake, at least; that’s half the reason he called thirty minutes ago, wanting company on the last leg of the drive.
“Maybe,” Ten replies, sniffing a little. “I told you, I’ve been on the road since -”
“Yeah, yeah,” Yangyang huffs. “You’ve been driving forever, and your tiredness has nothing to do with staying up past your bedtime drinking with the Lee-Kims.”
Ten can’t help but crack a smile. “That’s the future Lee-Kims. And you’d be kept awake, too, if you saw how lovey-dovey they are with each other.”
There’s a rush of static as Yangyang snorts into the phone. “If your definition of lovey-dovey includes bickering, I guess. You know, nothing about their dynamic is going to change once they get hitched. It’s like they’ve been married the entire time they’ve been together anyway.”
“You’re telling me,” Ten laughs too. “But as for marriage, Yangyangie - I think that’s more or less the point.”
Yangyang hums thoughtfully, and of course in the single beat of silence, Ten has to press his hand to his mouth to muffle yet another yawn. “Ten - dude. You’re not really gonna fall asleep at the wheel, are you?”
“’M trying not to,” Ten glances at the next highway sign he passes under - he’s not that far from home, but a break sounds nice. “I’ve been thinking about stopping to grab a quick coffee.”
And honestly, it sounds better and better the more he thinks about it. Ten can probably get an Americano and still pass the fuck out tonight, given his current level of exhaustion. He peeks at the clock on his dashboard - it’s only four o’clock. He has work tomorrow, but afternoon coffee doesn’t usually keep him up that late.
Besides, decaf is for cowards.
“If you stop at a café, grab me a snack.”
“Yangyang,” Ten rolls his eyes.
“What? Don’t you owe me a favor for keeping you company on the drive home?”
“That’s extortion, baby,” Ten says mildly. He can practically hear Yangyang fluttering his lashes through the phone. He’s the maknae of their friend group and he knows he can get away with shit like this - which is more power than Liu Yangyang should ever have, in Ten’s opinion.
“Hey, if it works…”
“Why don’t you go mooch off Kun? He can actually cook, and you know it.”
“But then I wouldn’t make my weekly quota of pestering you,” Yangyang replies, saccharine-sweet.
Yeah, that sounds about right.
“I’m going to stop for coffee,” Ten decides, flicking on his blinker so that he can switch lanes. “But I’m going for me, because I need to stay awake, and not because I’m going to get you anything.”
“Keep telling yourself that, gege,” Yangyang says, entirely too smug, and Ten can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes again. Honestly.
Already feeling more alert, Ten exits the highway a few stops before his usual turn. There’s bound to be a café he can stop by, maybe grab a pastry or something tasty in addition to coffee - because hey, it’s not a bad idea. He hums along to whatever pop song is on shuffle, skimming the shops and signs as Yangyang continues to chatter. Ten has driven though this area before, but not recently, and road-trip fog is still heavy on the surface of his brain.
“Didn’t Xiaojun mention a café opening up in this neighborhood recently?” Ten asks, more to himself than Yangyang.
If anyone could shrug through the phone, it would be Yangyang. “I think so? He said he walked by a new cat café, but not sure where.”
Ten sighs. There’s gotta be a coffee shop somewhere - if not something local, then at least a Starbucks. Ten’s not gonna be picky at this point.
Maybe that’s why it feels so miraculous when Ten spots it: a cute brick shop on the corner, unassuming but neat. Overhead, here’s a sign depicting a steaming mug - with two little twin paw-prints on the side. Ninth Life, it reads in handwritten script underneath.
And, on the street right in front, a car gently merges into traffic and leaves a free parking space open for Ten.
“Jackpot,” Ten sing-songs. Hell yes - he couldn’t have planned this better.
“You found something?” Yangyang asks.
“You could say that.” Ten can feel himself grinning - good thing Yangyang can’t see the unabashed smile spreading over his face. “ I’ll call you later, okay? Thanks for keeping me company, Yangyangie!”
“Don’t forget my snack!” Yangyang hollers, as if he can sense Ten’s finger hovering over the end call button.
Ten hangs up. Well, if he’s feeling merciful, he’ll grab Yangyang a cookie. But his priority is coffee - and who knows! Maybe he’ll get to pet a cute kitty or two while he’s there.
Honestly, Ten can’t remember the last time he visited a cat café; just the idea of it has him in good spirits as he pulls up to the curb and parallel parks. The prospect of a large dose of caffeine doesn’t hurt, but a cat café? He’ll get his drink and a snack and sit inside for a bit, rather than ordering to go like he’d originally planned.
He lives alone in a cramped studio apartment, and it’s not like any of his friends have pets he can baby - may as well take advantage of some free kitty cuddles.
The bells over the door chime cheerfully as Ten enters, shoving his keys and phone into the front pocket of his hoodie. The inside of the café is well-kept, with warm wood floors and an array of cozy, mismatched chairs complete with pet-themed throw pillows. Ten takes a deep lungful of air, sighing happily: rich, roasting coffee with a hint of sweet baked goods and something soothingly herbal, like lavender.
Yeah, this is exactly what Ten didn’t know he needed.
One of the baristas looks up from clearing off a table, shooting Ten a small smile. His cheeks dimple adorably, and - huh. He’s wearing a headband adorned with what looks like… dog ears, maybe? Ten can’t really tell. Kind of odd for a cat café, though. “Hey, welcome to Ninth Life! Let us know if you, uh. Need anything.”
“Thanks,” Ten smiles back, ambling towards the counter and trying not to let his gaze linger.
Do cafés really go all-out with the themes these days, even in the suburbs? With costume accessories and all that? He’ll have to ask his friends - the ones who actually go out, rather than letting their work-life balance tip way too far towards work like he does. Oops.
Anyway. Damn, it feels good to stretch his legs after a few hours in the car. He can deal with some dressed-up baristas for his coffee fix. It’s kind of cute, actually.
And Ten would be a liar if he said he didn’t own a cat-ear headband buried somewhere deep in a drawer at home.
There isn’t a line at the counter to order, but there are still more people in the café than Ten expected for so late in the afternoon - enough ambient conversation to create a pleasant murmur over the clink of china and soft lo-fi. Maybe it’s close enough to the local university that students like to hang out here? That would explain why so much of the staff are on the younger side, though not why about half of them are wearing headbands with animal ears, too.
Well, as long as the coffee is good.
The lone barista behind the counter is half-hidden behind the metal bulk of the espresso machine, the broad line of his shoulders and a flash of navy apron visible only in snatches. Ten takes his time squinting up at the chalkboard menu - his eyes are tired from all the driving, okay? - and he thinks nothing of it when the barista calls out, “Hey, be with you in a moment!”
“No rush,” Ten replies, rubbing at one eye as he yawns for like the hundredth time. It’s definitely for the best that he stopped for a pick-me-up.
It’s sweet; all of the drinks have cute pet-themed names, on-brand and punny. Ten skims down the list for something that has more than two espresso shots when the barista returns to the register, delicately adding a pair of cinnamon-dusted cappuccinos to a tray laden with sweets. Ten feels his mouth water at the sight of the macarons and pirouettes, and when he looks up - oh. Well.
The barista isn’t too hard on the eyes, either.
“Haechannie, this is for table four!” he calls out, nudging the tray closer to the edge of the counter with a gentle hand. He’s bigger than Ten expected - taller than Ten, he must have been quite hunched behind the espresso machine - with warm brown hair parted just so over his forehead. There’s a pair of cat ears perched high on his head, creamy white near the base and chocolate-brown at the tips. The name tag pinned to his apron says Johnny.
He’s a lot to take in. Ten is definitely awake now.
Johnny’s eyes settle on Ten - but before he can say anything, another one of the café staff stumbles out of his seat at a nearby table, apron askew, and skips over to the counter. “Coming, coming!”
“Careful,” Johnny huffs a laugh, arms crossing over his chest. Ten tries - and, uh, fails - to not ogle the bulge of Johnny’s biceps. “Don’t trip over your own tail.”
“Very funny, hyung.” Johnny gets an eye-roll from his coworker as he picks up the tray, making a show of deliberate slowness as he takes it in both hands. Haechan - that’s what Johnny had called him, though the skewed name tag on his chest reads Donghyuck - flashes a bright smile at them as he turns back towards the tables, balancing the hot drinks and sweets with ease. Johnny snorts and shakes his head - and for a second there, Ten thinks that the round, honey-brown ears on Haechan’s head twitch.
But that can’t be right.
“Sorry about that,” Johnny says, and Ten swivels, blinking out of his thoughts. He must be more tired than he realized if his eyes are deceiving him like that. “Welcome to Ninth Life! Do you know what you want to order? I can give you a recommendation if you’re having trouble deciding.”
Ten hums and taps a finger to his lips, glancing back up to the menu - because it’s true, there are quite a few things that sound tasty and caffeinated enough to get him home safely. Having trouble deciding has nothing to do with the fact that meeting Johnny’s gaze has Ten’s cheeks turning pink.
“Do you have a preference between the lavender latte and the mocha flat white?” he asks.
“Both are pretty good, honestly.” Johnny leans a hip against the counter with a small, companionable smile. “I’m usually less of a sweet coffee kind of guy, but you can’t go wrong with a mocha.”
“That’s what I’ll do, then.” Ten nods, shooting Johnny a grin. “Please.”
“Coming right up!” Johnny shoves himself fully upright, grabbing a wide-mouthed cup from the nearby rack as he does so. “For here, right?”
“Yeah - thanks!” Ten calls as Johnny turns, heading down the counter to begin making his drink.
And - huh. The barista attire isn’t just ears, apparently.
There’s a thick, fluffy tail with dark, coffee-colored tabby stripes poking out from the back of Johnny’s apron, perfectly matching his headband. It’s a little strange, maybe, but it doesn’t make Johnny any less attractive in Ten’s eyes. He doesn’t begrudge anyone who has to wear a work uniform, even if said uniform includes a tail.
But then, as Ten watches Johnny put down the cup and begin to measure out fresh coffee grounds, the tail moves.
Wait. What?
Johnny hums softly as he sets about his task, his tail - his tail? - flicking to one side and then the other in what Ten usually thinks of as a feline display of interest. If - uh. If Johnny was a cat. Which -
Oh.
Quote-unquote animal-themed accessories. Guests here for the coffee, but also just hanging out. Pet puns on the menu. The name Ninth Life. Paw-prints in the logo.
Paw-prints! In the logo!!
Oh my god - this isn’t just a cat café. It’s a hybrid café.
Ten swallows, feeling his cheeks flush hot. It’s not a big deal - he’s just surprised, is all. He’s never been to a hybrid café before. He’s only ever met a handful of hybrids in his day-to-day life, as far as having a conversation and not just passing them on the street.
Of course he knows that places like this exist - high-end establishments for purebreds and cafés that serve as shelters for abandoned hybrids - but it’s like knowing that the International Space Station exists. Ten knows it’s out there, he trusts that it’s doing its thing, but it’s not, like, relevant to his life in a meaningful way.
Well, at least you can’t accidentally wander onto the International Space Station looking for coffee! Ten chides himself, willing his heart to stop racing.
It’s cool. It’s fine! He can still get his drink and be on his merry way. This will be a totally normal and pleasant interaction. It’s a hybrid coffee shop! And Ten is here to buy coffee!
Right.
But - but how did he not notice?!
Ten fiddles with his keys, hands jammed into his hoodie pocket because he can’t seem to keep his nervous fingers still. He glances around the café - the barista who had first greeted him must be some kind of dog hybrid, based on the cute folded-over ears and tail constantly in motion as he chats with a woman near the front window. There are quite a few other cat hybrids, which isn’t a surprise, but a fair mix of other species, too.
“So.”
Ten’s head whips around to find Johnny smirking at him from down the bar, calmly stirring his cup of mocha with one eyebrow raised. “You only just realized, huh? That this is a hybrid café?”
At least Johnny keeps his voice pitched low, like he’s sharing a secret - not that it stops Ten’s heart from tripping over itself. God, he’s probably stupidly pink in embarrassment, if the heat is anything to go by. For his part, Johnny looks calm and bemused at whatever expression is happening on Ten’s face.
“Um.” Ten rubs the back of his head, a laugh bubbling up from his chest - because what can he do besides laugh at his own thick-headedness? “Y-Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude -”
“You weren’t,” Johnny’s smirk melts into something softer, creasing the corners of his eyes. “It happens a couple times a week - though usually first thing, when half-asleep people stop by for their morning coffee.”
“I’d use the same excuse, if it wasn’t the middle of the afternoon,” Ten smiles wryly. He takes a few shy steps closer to the counter to watch as Johnny finishes his drink. “I’ve never - um. I don’t think I’ve been in a hybrid café before.”
Johnny hums, eyes focused on his work - though one ear twitches towards Ten, much to Ten’s private amusement. Cute. “I’m not surprised. The café is fairly new, so for many people we’re their first experience with hybrids - accidentally or not.”
Ten shifts his weight from foot to foot, still itching with nervous energy. At least he hasn’t made it too weird, right? Johnny’s being cool about it. Ten can be cool.
Of course, his brain-to-mouth filter doesn’t stop him from opening his mouth and saying, “Well, a happy accident, in my case.”
“Oh?” Johnny raises an eyebrow and sets Ten’s cup on a saucer with a gentle clink. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice as he tips his head to the side. “A happy accident? You haven’t even tried the coffee yet, you know.”
“I’m looking forward to that,” Ten admits, nostrils flaring as he takes in the rich scent of coffee and chocolate and steamed milk. Mmm. “But I meant that by wandering in, I got to meet you.”
Johnny blinks at him.
“And have a nice coffee. It smells delicious. I’m sure it’ll be great,” Ten adds. God, why does he babble when he’s nervous?
But a slow smile spreads across Johnny’s face, dimpling his cheeks in a way that’s - that’s really quite handsome. Ten’s stomach somersaults.
“You’ll have to tell me what you think,” Johnny says, gently sliding the steaming cup across the counter to Ten. “And no fibbing - I want an honest review.”
“Sure,” Ten grins, picking up his mocha with the utmost care - it’s quite hot, after all. And he’s made enough of a fool of himself without spilling coffee everywhere. “Um, should I sit -”
“Anywhere you like,” Johnny sweeps a hand out, gesturing to the bustling café. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Thanks!” Ten nods, and turns to find a seat before he starts rambling again. He knows he’s blushing up a storm, and not from the steaming cup in his hands.
God. Only Ten would have the luck to wander into a hybrid café and not realize it, in the midst of making small talk with the hottest barista he’s ever seen.
Thankfully, no one else seems to have noticed; Ten’s left to his own thoughts as he sips his drink. And the mocha is delicious; it’s a perfect blend of bitterness from the coffee and sweetness from the chocolate, rich and comforting all at once. Ten holds the cup close to his face to enjoy the warmth and the intoxicating scent.
He can feel his exhaustion melting already - and he certainly feels more awake after the, uh, realization. But the caffeine helps, too.
Ten glances at his phone - in the fifteen minutes it had taken to order his coffee and discover a new form of personal embarrassment, Yangyang has sent him a grand total of 23 messages. Most of them are variations of don’t forget my snack!!! and kun-ge told me to remind you about family dinner on friday and the like.
As always, Yangyang can’t help running his mouth, even over text - but it’s a good reminder that Ten probably shouldn’t linger too long. This was supposed to be a quick stop anyway, just a chance for him to stretch his legs and get some caffeine in his system before the final leg home.
Besides, he could always come back to Ninth Life, if he wanted to. It’s not even twenty minutes down the road from his apartment.
Ten sighs as he takes the last sip of his mocha and peers into the bottom of his empty cup. The coffee is definitely good enough that he’d want to come back, attractive hybrid baristas notwithstanding.
Maybe, if there’s a next time, he can start over on the right foot.
—
The thing is -
Ten doesn’t think he’s a particularly lonely person.
Sure, he’s a little solitary - he’s an introvert, and he lives alone - but he likes his privacy and alone time. After a long day of working with his students and the other choreographers, it’s nice to come home to a cup of tea and some peace and quiet.
Ten likes spending time with his friends, of course - and they’re quite the rowdy group when they’re together, even if they’re just sharing a meal together at Kun’s apartment rather than going out. But where Yangyang seems to get energy from spending time with other people, Ten can feel himself getting drained. At the end of the night, he’s happy to leave the thumping bass of a club and snuggle up in bed with a drama pulled up on his laptop, a face-mask carefully smoothed into place.
So yeah. On the whole, Ten’s satisfied with the amount of people time he gets day-to-day.
That is - well. Ten doesn’t think too hard about it until he visits Doyoung and Taeyong, and something under his ribs gives a little twinge.
Of the couples Ten knows, he’s been friends with Doyoung and Taeyong the longest. Hell, he’d known Taeyong before there was a Doyoung in the picture - a fact he’ll lord over them forever, especially when they’re being particularly disgusting and affectionate. Ten was delighted for them when he heard about the engagement; it was a long time coming, in his professional opinion as a Known Taeyong Expert. And it was particularly nice to go spend a long weekend with the two of them, now that they live in different cities.
Ten had expected a fun weekend of catching up and reminiscing about old times, teasing Doyoung for being absolutely smitten with Taeyong and listening to the two of them bicker like they’re already married, not just engaged.
What he didn’t expect was to come home with a subtle ache in his chest at the memory of their shared laughter, the easy way Taeyong caught Doyoung’s hand and held it at the kitchen table. The unguarded love in their eyes in the quiet moments.
“Ugh.” Ten grumbles as he rolls over to face the ceiling, hugging a pillow to his chest. He can’t fall asleep with the jumble of thoughts in his head, all vying for his attention. It’s not that his friends’ engagement bothers him, it’s that he can’t quite put his finger on what’s happening. The under-the-ribs thing.
Maybe he has been feeling a little bit lonely lately. It’s not hard to feel particularly single in the company of hashtag DoTae, especially.
But that doesn’t mean Ten wants to date; he just wants to feel… companionship, or something. To come home and have someone to chat with about his day, or watch movies together, or complain about how the Thai place down the street never gets the spice level quite right.
Maybe that is dating, just skipping all the parts where he has to go meet people and gauge interest and download apps. He wants to get right to the good parts of being with someone.
Is that too much to ask?
That’s what spending time with Doyoung and Taeyong this past weekend had been like, just with a lot more domestic squabbling. Seriously, it’s like they’re going on fifty years together, not five.
Ten does like living alone, though - or at least not dealing with the struggles of living with another person. Hell, there’s no amount of money in the world that could persuade him to live with Liu Yangyang, and they’re best friends. They annoy each other enough through text; there would be blood if they were in each other’s pockets all the time.
He could get a roommate, maybe? Ten’s hours are weird enough that it might not be so bad, if he could find someone tolerable. Still a crapshoot, though. Post-university, many of his friends are settled or satisfied with solo apartment-hood.
Oh - or he could get a cat.
Ten’s face warms. Because that thought brings him to the other recent topic of his late-night musings: the Ninth Life hybrid café. And the guy he met inside, of course.
Not just a guy - a hybrid. A cat hybrid with cute ears and dimples when he’s amused, even if his smiles don’t quite reach his eyes. There’s something about him, something that Ten can’t get out of his mind.
Not just a guy, not just a hybrid - Johnny.
Admittedly, Ten doesn’t have a lot of experience with hybrids. He doesn’t know anyone who owns one - not a surprise, given the costs and the fact that he and his friends are mostly just mid-twenties guys trying to get by. The rich elite own hybrids to be caretakers to their children, as arm candy at social events, to show off their absurd wealth with an exotic and independent pet - and yeah, as companionship, Ten supposes. It’s never been even a passing thought, that Ten himself might want - or be able to - own one himself.
Having someone to come home to and talk with after a long day does sound nice, though.
But he’s not - he couldn’t -
Ten shakes his head, flopping onto his side with another sigh. He’s never put much thought towards hybrids before, but he can admit to himself that he’s… curious. That’s all.
Besides, Ninth Life is a good café - and it’s totally normal to go to a hybrid café just to spend time with the hybrids there, right? That’s what regular cat cafés are for, too. Even if the hope is that the cats eventually find their person and get adopted.
So… maybe he’ll go back. Slake his caffeine addiction, learn about the hybrids there and… just see where it goes.
Ten snuggles deeper into his blankets, closing his eyes and ignoring the stirring in his chest.
And maybe he’ll get the chance to see Johnny again, too.
—
It’s a little over a week later when Ten finally makes it back to Ninth Life. His schedule at the dance studio is predictable, but getting out of bed early enough to run an errand before his first class? That’s the real challenge. Especially as summer slips into fall.
Ten yawns into his hand as he walks the few blocks to the café, a spring in his step only because it’s so cool in the early morning - he’s ready for a warm drink. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, though. There’s a snake-like knot of nerves in his belly, coiling and uncoiling itself as he gets closer.
He just wants to make a good impression, okay? Or, well - as good of an impression as he can make on a second visit, given how last time went.
Anyway.
A solid wall of warm, coffee-scented air hits Ten’s nose as soon as he steps inside. Ahhh, yes. He’s always loved the atmosphere of coffee shops - the deep, roasty scent of freshly-ground beans, the murmur of low conversation and soft music. It settles into Ten’s bones and soothes his nerves, at least a little. Even though he still has to brave walking up to the counter and ordering his treat for today.
“Hey, it’s you!”
Ten blinks, turning in place. There’s a guy - a hybrid - in one of the café’s branded aprons cleaning the table in the front window, wiping down the surface with a damp rag. When Ten meets his gaze he grins broadly, dark cat ears perked with interest. “Sorry - you, uh, probably didn’t see me the first time you were here, but I recognized you.”
“I hope that’s a good thing,” Ten mumbles, not quite a question.
The hybrid just chuckles, shooting Ten a small smile. “I mean, I thought it was kinda funny. I’m Hendery, by the way.”
Ten holds out his hand to shake with a smile of his own. “I’m Ten.”
Hendery glances down at the offered hand and then up to Ten’s face again, before slowly reaching out to clasp it and gently shake. He tilts his head, assessing - but in a friendly kind of way. His bright smile is back in moments. “Ten-hyung, huh. Well, it’s better than calling you Mocha Latte.”
“I - what?” Ten huffs out a laugh, but Hendery’s already tucking away his rag and carefully lifting a tray of dirty mugs, heading further into the café. “Mocha Latte?”
“It’s what you ordered last time!” Hendery calls over his shoulder, and - oh. Huh. There are certainly worse things to be remembered by.
Better that than The Fifth Dude This Week Who Didn’t Know This is a Hybrid Cafe.
Ten bites his lip to stifle his smile and heads for the counter. It’s definitely busier now than it was when he stopped by the other afternoon, though plenty of the customers are getting their coffee orders to go rather than lingering in the café.
He lets his gaze wander as he waits in line; the specials board mounted high on the back wall has a new set of seasonal drinks, and there are several hybrid baristas working behind the counter to keep the line moving smoothly. Ten recognizes a few of them flitting around the café - the shorter hybrid with round, caramel-colored bear ears, and the broad guy with a wagging puppy tail. And -
And Johnny.
Ten catches a glimpse of him briefly, in the gap between a stack of mugs. It’s not hard to recognize Johnny, with his height and tousled chestnut-colored hair. And, yes, the ears - obvious, now that Ten knows what he’s looking at.
His stomach twists, and he tries to ignore the sensation. He has no need to be nervous, he’s just buying coffee! Like everyone else here! The first time, it had been because Johnny is so attractive; this time -
Okay. Maybe it’s that Johnny is attractive, and also Ten made a bit of a fool of himself last time.
Still: he’s just getting coffee, a fine and normal adult activity.
Ten clings to the thought as he shuffles forward in line. Will Johnny remember him? Does he want Johnny to remember him? He certainly made enough of an impression that Hendery recognized him, for better or worse.
He’s never gonna live it down. Yangyang will make sure of that, even if no one here remembers.
“Next!”
Ten shakes himself out of his thoughts and steps up to the counter. Johnny’s still facing the other way, sliding a croissant onto a dainty white plate and handing it over the counter - and when he turns, his gaze catches on Ten. There’s a flash of undeniable recognition in his eyes, a spark that makes Ten’s heart skip a beat.
The corner of Johnny’s mouth quirks upward. “Well, hey there.”
“Hi again,” Ten says, hoping his nerves don’t show on his face. “Um. I wasn’t sure you would remember me.”
“Remember you?” Johnny chuckles; his tail swishes back and forth behind him in amusement. He leans forward on the counter with one elbow to rest his chin in his palm. “Of course. You made it a pretty memorable afternoon.”
Ten’s face heats. Memorable. That’s one way to put it.
“Besides, you never did tell me how you liked that mocha,” Johnny continues. He raises an eyebrow, head tilting to the side. “I was expecting your review.”
“Ah - that’s right,” Ten muses, scratching at the corner of his jaw as he gives Johnny a sheepish smile. The realization that he had entered a hybrid café was enough to fry his brain that day, not to mention the hours and hours of driving. “Well, it was delicious - definitely one of the best mochas I’ve ever had. I have a sweet tooth, but it was a perfect balance.”
Something in Johnny’s face shifts a fraction, almost imperceptibly - but his half-smile remains in place. “Glad to hear it. You want the same thing again today?”
“Oh! Actually…” Ten trails off, glancing up at the board. He hadn’t actually decided yet, partly out of nerves and partly because once again, too many things sound good. “…Could you give me another recommendation?”
“Sure,” Johnny replies easily, standing to his full height and leaning back against the counter so that he can look at the specials board along with Ten. “Something sweet, but not too sweet?”
“As long as it’s got plenty of caffeine,” Ten shrugs, and laughs when Johnny sends him a knowing smile. “Hey, it’s still early!”
Johnny shakes his head. “I’m not judging, I work at a coffee shop. How do you feel about cinnamon?”
“Like - the cinnamon latte?” Ten asks. “Sounds good to me. I trust your expertise.”
Johnny reaches over to grab a mug, giving Ten that not-quite-a-grin again. It still dimples his cheek. “Say that after you’ve had more than one of my drinks, okay? One cinnamon latte coming right up.”
Ten shoots him a thumbs up, and Johnny ducks away to start making his drink.
Well, this café visit is off to a much better start.
The cinnamon latte turns out to be the perfect thing for chasing away the early-fall chill; the mix of coffee and spice warms Ten all the way down to his toes. The scent is rich and earthy, almost peppery in its intensity but offset by the sweet, creamy foam on top. Ten doesn’t remember the last time he had such a well-made latte - besides the mocha, of course.
Ten says so to Johnny when he returns to the counter to order a snack, and the sight of Johnny’s smile warms him even more than the coffee.
He ends up at the table by the window, content to sip at his drink and scroll social media until he has to leave to get to the studio on time. Hendery even stops by again, to ask Ten if he needs anything - and Ten actually feels himself start to relax. It’s just a coffee shop, after all, though one with a distinct quirk and very, very good coffee.
And an attractive barista.
Ten dips his head, willing away his blush. Maybe, with a little time, he can get to know Johnny better. For now, just spending time here - around more people, around a few hybrids - already feels like it’s wearing away at the ache under Ten’s ribs.
It would be nice if this could be a regular thing.
—
The third time he visits the café, Ten comes armed - armed to spend longer than thirty minutes before he has to rush out the door to teach. It’s one of his days off, a quiet afternoon with gray skies clouding over the fall sun. Perfect weather for a hot drink, in Ten’s opinion.
Is it good for his wallet to make so many trips to the coffee shop? Well, probably not. Kun certainly wouldn’t think so. But Ten knows his friends all have their own vices, too, and if coffee is his, there are worse addictions to have.
He packs a bag with his sketchbook and pencil case, his iPad and a few other supplies for an afternoon creating. It’s been too long since he’s had time to do something like this. Ten loves using his creativity as a choreographer, but there’s something about putting lines on a page, in combining color and shape in a way that’s just different from dance.
So it’s a treat in more ways than one, to head over to Ninth Life for some time to himself.
The café isn’t too busy when he arrives, a little after the lunchtime rush; Ten finds a seat with ease and sets up as he squints at the menu. It’s mostly the same since the last time he stopped by, but that doesn’t make it any easier to decide on what he wants. Not when he knows that anything Johnny makes is going to be even better than the last.
“Hey, welcome to Ninth Life!” A tall young man with shock-white ears gives a quick wave to get Ten’s attention, eyes creasing with a smile as he steps closer. “Have you been here before? Would you like to put in an order?”
“Uh,” Ten chuckles, caught off-guard. He tries to keep his eyes on the hybrid’s face, but - wow. Those are the fuzziest ears he’s seen in his life, perked upright where they peek out from hybrid’s bright blond hair. Very cute. “I’ve been here before, but I don’t think we’ve met?”
“Oh!” The hybrid blinks, straightening - and Ten spots a movement behind him, the white fluffy curlicue of a tail moving back and forth in a slow wag that’s picking up speed. “Well, it’s nice to meet you! Would you like to see a menu? Or - do you know what you want? I’m sure I -”
An arm slings around the puppy’s neck as someone gives him a hug from behind. “Jeno-yah, what did Johnny-hyung say about asking too many questions at once?”
“Hey!” Jeno twists around as best he can, beaming wide - his tail thumps happily against the backs of his legs. “Haechan! He - um. What did hyung say?”
“One at a time, remember?” Haechan rolls his eyes. Ten can’t help but grin at their antics, at least until Haechan’s focus pivots to him. “But really, did you want to order anything?”
Ten purses his mouth in thought. He’d been kind of hoping to approach the counter himself, to get another chance to say hi to Johnny. If Johnny’s even working today; Ten hasn’t seen him yet. But Ten hopes he is.
He still hasn’t been able to get Johnny’s half-smile out of his mind.
Of course, there’s no way he’ll admit that to these two. It’s bad enough that Hendery witnessed Ten’s blunder a few weeks ago in addition to Johnny. And now that he thinks about it - Haechan, the bear hybrid, looks pretty familiar, too.
Unfortunately, Haechan seems to realize this at the same time as Ten.
“Um,” Ten says intelligently.
There’s a knowing glimmer in Haechan’s eyes as he tilts his head, glancing between Ten and the counter at the front of the café. Where the baristas work. “Or, y’know. You could go up and order, I guess. If there’s something you’re interested in.”
God. Ten stands before he can think too hard about it - better than being lowkey roasted where he sits, at least. “Actually, yeah, I’ll go figure out what I want. Thank you though, Jeno - Haechan.”
“Mmhmm,” Haechan hums, smirking as Ten passes. “Enjoy.”
Ten focuses on finding his wallet in an attempt to ignore the hot little shiver of adrenaline up his spine. He can hear Jeno and Haechan chatting aimlessly behind him, their voices adding to the pleasant burble of voices in the café.
He still feels a little like he’s being watched, though. Is it just him, or are hybrids particularly - observant?
It’s fine. The sting of his embarrassment will fade over time - it’s already more of a funny story than anything. Or it will be, if Ten could feel a little more sure of himself whenever he chats with Johnny.
Johnny, who glances up as he saunters over to the pastry cabinet, depositing a fresh tray of perfectly golden treats into the glass case. The corner of his mouth ticks up as he meets Ten’s gaze, and he pushes his hair out of his face with one big hand. His ears twitch and swivel to follow Ten’s footsteps as he draws closer.
Ten swallows, his throat suddenly dry.
“Afternoon,” Johnny says, closing the cabinet with a soft click. He leans up against it, arms crossed over the front of his apron. The dark blue only makes Johnny’s forearms look all the more tanned and muscular.
Damn.
“Hi, Johnny,” Ten smiles. Curse his hair-trigger blush; life around attractive men would be a lot easier if he didn’t turn pink at sight of some nice arms. Though they are particularly nice arms. “Busy day today?”
Johnny cants his head to the side as he half-shrugs. “No more than usual. Y’know how it is - making coffee, keeping the peace.”
“Keeping the peace?” Ten raises an eyebrow.
Johnny gestures behind Ten, and when he turns - ah. Haechan is still hanging off Jeno, both of them bickering loudly with a third hybrid - a bunny of some type, judging from his ears. Jeno’s curly marshmallow of a tail is still wagging, observing placidly as the other two argue with increasing volume.
“They’re good kids, most of the time,” Johnny huffs, amusement clear in his voice. When Ten glances up at him, Johnny’s eyes are soft and fond as he regards the younger hybrids. “The key word being most of the time.”
Ten chuckles. “I assume they’re not allowed to have any caffeine, then.”
When Johnny laughs, he does so with his whole body - he leans back, head tipped towards the ceiling, eyes creased with mirth. It makes the fabric of his shirt pull taut under his apron, the bulge of his biceps even clearer. “Oh, if only it were that easy. Ninth Life is a coffee shop. I couldn’t keep Nana away from the drinks if I tried - and I do try.”
They watch the scene play out in front of them for a few more moments - the way Haechan tugs at one of Jeno’s fluffy white ears to get his attention, Jeno’s surprisingly deep giggles audible all the way across the small shop, the amusement rather than annoyance of the patrons around them. There’s an easy skinship and camaraderie between them that reminds Ten of his own friend group, as weird and clingy as they can be.
Younger brothers, Ten thinks as he glances between Johnny’s softening smile and the boisterous trio.
Johnny shakes himself out of his thoughts, turning that soft grin on Ten. “Anyway, I’m getting distracted. What would you like today, uh -”
“It’s Ten,” he says, coming up to the counter - close enough to rest his hands on the marble bar top. “My name. I’m Ten.”
“Ten,” Johnny repeats, and Ten smiles. Something about the way Johnny says his name echoes in his mind; Ten. Ten. “Well. Are you up for trying something new again, Ten?”
“Sounds great,” Ten says, unable to stop his grin from spreading wider. “How’d you know?”
Johnny shrugs again, casual but still smiling. When he dips his head to punch Ten’s order into the register, a sparkle at the base of his ear - an earring? - catches Ten’s eye. “Just a feeling. Go ahead and sit, I’ll have one of the kids bring it out to you.”
Ten nods, basking in the last of Johnny’s smile before he disappears to craft Ten’s drink. By the time he’s back in his seat at the window, Ten can hear the comforting, familiar boil and hiss of the espresso machine adding to the cheerful chatter of the shop.
God. He hadn’t even asked what Johnny was going to make for him. It’s a lot of trust to put in a barista who you’ve met only twice before, Ten thinks.
Then again, not every barista he’s met is as good as Johnny. And if today’s drink is as good as the other two, Ten’s in for a pleasant surprise.
Ten listens to the ongoing banter with half an ear as he arranges his workspace on the small table - iPad propped up in its stand, sketchbook flipped to the next empty page, a scattering of markers and pencils from the depths of his bag. He gets the feeling that the hybrids working here are more than just coworkers; they certainly argue like family, switching between exasperated and fond in turns. Eventually, Johnny calls the boys up to the counter and distributes orders to deliver, and Jeno oh-so-carefully transports a full mug to Ten’s table - under Johnny’s watchful eye.
“Hyung didn’t tell me what it was,” Jeno explains, bending at the waist to slide the cup and saucer onto Ten’s table with gentle hands, “but this is for you. It smells like flowers - do you know what’s in it?”
Charmed by Jeno’s curiosity, Ten lifts the cup to his nose and sniffs - and it does smell flowery. More than he might expect of a coffee drink, honestly. “I’m not sure. Something rose-flavored, maybe?”
“You don’t know?” Jeno blinks and tilts his head - and it’s so adorably puppyish, Ten nearly melts. “But you ordered it, didn’t you?”
Ten huffs a quiet laugh, “Well, actually -”
“Jeno?” Haechan calls from the counter, lifting two matching plates of pastries and raising his eyebrows. “A little help?”
“Sorry! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!” Jeno says, leaving Ten with a parting grin as he darts through the cluster of tables.
Ten stares after him, hands curling around his mug as he takes another deep breath of steam. Floral and rosy, and a deep sweetness, maybe toasted marshmallow or brown sugar? And rich coffee, underneath it all.
Mmmm.
Did Johnny remember that Ten said he had a sweet tooth? Ten’s probably overthinking it. The drink is delicious, and Ten appreciates the warmth in his fingers every time he takes a break from drawing. At least until his cup is empty.
It’s a pleasant afternoon, all in all - in spite of the clouds outside, the café is cozy and calm. Conversations ebb and shift, and Ten lets the atmosphere settle over him as he gets into the flow of drawing.
Jeno checks in on him, when he’s three pages further into his sketchbook - and does such a poor job of sneaking looks at Ten’s art that Ten doesn’t mind showing him. Hendery says hello, too - and Ten finds that he likes this. He likes being a regular, getting to know the people here, trying new drinks that Johnny whips up for him and feeling the rhythm of life in the little café.
It’s homey, in a way that the coffee chains closer to home just can’t match.
Maybe that’s why he’s so surprised, then, when someone new approaches as he’s packing up - a middle-aged woman who isn’t a hybrid, though she’s wearing one of the café’s navy-blue aprons.
“Hi - sorry to disturb you,” she says, dipping her head in a short bow. “I’m one of the managers here at Ninth Life. I just noticed that you’ve stopped by before, and wanted to make sure you knew about our adoption policies. If you’re interested in adopting one of our hybrids, that is.”
“Oh!” Ten halts in his movements, one arm elbow-deep in his bag as he puts away his things. “Um. Adoption?”
The word seems to wipe the hesitation from the manager’s face. “That’s right! The hybrids working here are all adoptable; we’re a shelter as well as café.”
Ah - a shelter, huh? Ten hadn’t been sure from his previous visits to Ninth Life.
“I see,” Ten says politely, returning the manager’s smile as he stuffs the rest of his art supplies in his bag. “Uh, good to know, thank you.”
“There are brochures by the entrance, if you’re curious about the process - but no pressure at all, of course!” She nods a quick bow again. “We’re happy to have you as a loyal customer either way.”
Ten’s stomach gives a little twist, but he tries not to let it show on his face; he returns the bow, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Well, this is a great café - I’m sure I’ll be back!”
With a brief wave, Ten heads for the door; he can already feel heat gathering in his face. Adoption. He should have realized - he’s walked by the brochures at the entrance almost half a dozen times now. He’s just been too caught up in his thoughts, so excited at the prospect of spending time at the café and trying something tasty that he hadn’t been paying attention.
But there’s no harm in finding out more, is there? Just so he knows what the whole adoption business is about. Since he likes Ninth Life enough to be spending more time here, anyway.
On his way out, Ten grabs a brochure and stuffs it in his bag before he can talk himself out of it.
—
The brochure is printed on gloss paper and folded carefully into three, navy and tan and gold. Adopting a Hybrid, it reads, emblazoned on the outer fold. There are stock photos of smiling hybrids framed inside the silhouette of a paw print, just like the café’s logo.
Nothing inside the brochure feels particularly groundbreaking - except for the way it rocks Ten’s world.
Because he’s never thought about this before. For so long, he’s focused on taking care of himself, making his way through life at his own pace and working hard for what he wants. Really, that’s been enough. It’s been plenty.
Ten takes care of his dongsaengs, sure - but indulging Yangyang’s snack demands and treating Mark to a trip to the movies is not the same as adopting. Or, as the brochure cheerfully puts it, welcoming a hybrid into your home!
It’s a lot to think about. It’s a thing Ten’s still not sure he wants; he hasn’t been consistent about keeping a plant alive in his studio apartment, and there are days when he’s kind of shit at feeding himself. A hybrid would be… a lot more responsibility, for one thing.
Just looking at the brochure summons that dull ache under Ten’s ribs, though he’s not really sure why.
He gives it a thorough read, regardless. Just to make sure there are no surprises. Hybrids are - well, they’re more or less people, aren’t they? Even though a lot of the language on the glossy tri-fold makes them seem more like animal pets. Pets with more significant needs.
Ten can’t help but see hybrids as people, at least. But he knows that he’s in the minority with that opinion, from what he’s seen in movies and tv and on social media.
There are a few things in the brochure that stick out to him, besides that. Firstly - the photos on the inside of the pamphlet aren’t stock photos. He recognizes the warmly-lit interior of Ninth Life, the neat stacks of coffee cups and cushy chairs by the windows. The hybrids featured in the photos aren’t anyone Ten has met, but hey - he’s only stopped by the café three times now.
Secondly, it’s pretty noticeable that while they’re a mix of all different species, they’re all on the young side. Younger than Ten is, in his mid-to-late twenties, at least. And the text confirms it: Come meet the hybrids of Ninth Life! With hybrids ranging in age from mid-teens to early twenties, they’ll perfectly fit into your family as siblings, companions, and friends.
But that’s - hm. Ten squints at the page in the low light of his kitchen, frowning.
That doesn’t seem quite right, does it? Because in addition to the difference in height, Ten’s pretty sure that Johnny is older than him. That puts him over the age range the brochure advertises, which isn’t too odd, but still.
Something swirls in Ten’s stomach, an unease that doesn’t settle. He wants to get to know Johnny better, and he likes Ninth Life enough to want to be a regular, too - despite the strange feeling lingering in his belly.
Maybe he just needs to get used to the idea of hybrid adoption, period. Ten doesn’t have a lot of experience with hybrids - if you don’t count his trips to the café. That’s probably it.
He shoves the brochure to the bottom of an unopened stack of mail. If adoption is in his future, it’s still a long ways away.