Espresso in The Rain

Noah spent the rest of the day trying—and failing—to focus in class.

His professor's voice faded in and out, equations blurring together as his mind drifted back to The Roasted Heaven, to Elias' teasing smirk, to the way his hands had gripped Noah's hips the night before.

To the words that refused to leave his head.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Noah clenched his pen tighter, forcing himself to tune back into the lecture. He needed to stop thinking about this—about Elias.

But as soon as class ended, his phone buzzed.

Elias: Busy?

Noah hesitated, fingers hovering over the screen.

Me: Depends. Why?

Elias: Come by the café. Got something for you.

Noah exhaled, tapping his pen against his desk. He should go home. Be responsible. Stay away before he got in too deep.

Instead, he found himself typing:

Me: Be there soon.

—

When he arrived at The Roasted Heaven, the evening rush was winding down. The air smelled of roasted beans and caramel, warmth wrapping around him as he stepped inside.

Elias was behind the counter, sleeves pushed up, effortlessly charming a group of customers. But the moment his eyes landed on Noah, his smirk deepened.

"Right on time," Elias said, motioning him over.

Noah approached cautiously. "What's this 'something' you had for me?"

Elias reached under the counter, pulling out a small takeout cup. He placed it in front of Noah, his expression unreadable.

Noah frowned. "...A drink?"

Elias tilted his head. "Not just any drink. Try it."

Noah narrowed his eyes but took a sip. Immediately, a familiar flavor hit his tongue—sweet but not overpowering, with a hint of cinnamon. His brows lifted.

"This is—"

"Your usual," Elias finished, watching him closely. "But I changed a few things. Made it better."

Noah stared at him. "You… made this for me?"

Elias shrugged like it was nothing. "You come here every day. Figured I should know how you like your coffee."

Noah's grip tightened on the cup. His heart stuttered against his ribs.

This wasn't just casual flirting.

This was something else.

Something deeper.

"I—" Noah started, but the café door suddenly swung open, cutting him off.

"Noah!"

Noah turned, eyes widening as Santa, his best friend, marched in.

Santa took one look at him, then at Elias, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Oh. Oh. Am I interrupting something?"

Noah groaned. "Santa—"

"No, no, please continue," Santa said, plopping into a seat. "I love a good love story."

Elias chuckled. "You're welcome to stay and witness it unfold."

Noah shot him a glare, cheeks burning. "Don't encourage him."

Santa grinned. "Too late."

Elias just leaned on the counter, eyes twinkling. "Then I guess you'll have front-row seats."

Noah rolled his eyes, but deep down, a part of him wondered—feared—if Elias truly meant what he was saying.

And if he did…

Could Noah handle it?