Luca Villani had waited three agonizing months for this day.

The moment the Angel×Demon Limited Edition Ice Cream was announced—soft black velvet cone with golden vanilla swirl on one side and blood-red cherry glaze on the other, sprinkled with edible glitter shaped like tiny halos and horns—he set an alarm. Several alarms. He even dreamt about it. Maybe once or twice he cried about it. Look, some people waited for concerts or luxury sales. He waited for dessert.

The small café was packed. Couples everywhere. Holding hands, feeding each other cake bites, being all lovey-dovey and sickeningly adorable. Luca stood in the queue like a war-hardened soldier, determined and alone.

Finally, it was his turn. He took a deep breath.

“One Angel×Demon Ice Cream, please,” he said, slapping his wallet on the counter.

The cashier, a woman with bubblegum pink lipstick and cruel sparkle in her eye, smiled brightly.

“Oh! That’s only available for couples. You have to prove you're dating—photo proof. A kiss, a hug, anything cute! It’s a promotional campaign.”

Luca blinked. “What? I'm sorry, what?”

“Only couples,” she said again, sweetly but firm.

He looked behind him. Two guys were holding hands. Another girl was holding a bouquet from her girlfriend. No way. He looked around the shop. Everyone was with someone. Except...

Except for the guy next to him. Tall. Sharp jawline. Messy dark hair under a black beanie. Headphones on. Wore a leather jacket like he came from a rock band photoshoot. He had a casual slouch and was too focused on his phone, thumbs moving rapidly as if he was in a tournament. He hadn't even glanced up during the entire exchange.

Luca swallowed.

He was desperate. Too desperate.

He wanted the ice cream.

He needed the ice cream.

He turned to the cashier. Pointed at the guy next to him with the seriousness of someone calling an emergency contact.

“He’s my boyfriend. Give me the ice cream. Now.”

The cashier blinked. “Oh! Can you prove it?”

Luca’s stomach twisted. His face burned, but before his brain could talk his body out of it, he leaned in and—

He kissed the guy’s cheek.

There was a tiny sound. A half-gasp. The guy finally looked up, pulled off one side of his headphones. His eyes are deep and confused, met Luca’s. “...Huh?”

Snap!

Snap!

Snap!

It was from the camera.

“Perfect!” the cashier squealed. “You guys are adorable! Here's your ice cream.”

Luca grabbed it like it was a holy relic and bolted out of the shop like his life depended on it. He didn’t look back. He didn’t breathe. He ran until he was a full street away and ducked behind a vending machine.

He stared at the gorgeous ice cream in his hand.

He was shaking vigorously.

“I’m going to get sued. Or arrested! I kissed a stranger! I kissed someone for an ice cream! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME—!”

He took a bite.

Then he paused.

His eyes widened.

“…Holy crap. That’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

____________________________________________

Back at the café, the guy in the leather jacket stood where Luca left him. He touched his cheek where he'd been kissed, then glanced toward the door.

A smirk slowly curled at the corner of his lips.

“…Weird guy,” he muttered, then slipped his phone back into his jacket. “But kinda cute.”

He walked out of the café, licking the corner of his lips thoughtfully.

TBC...🤪

Luca was still emotionally recovering from the night before.

Sure, he had devoured the Angel×Demon Limited Edition Ice Cream like a sugar-starved gremlin, but at what cost? He had kissed a random stranger. In public. With witnesses. And worse, photo evidence. He had barely slept, tossing and turning in his dorm bed, mentally rehearsing his apology in case the police tracked him down for unsolicited cheek-kissing.

Dragging his half-dead soul through the campus gates, Luca yawned as he adjusted his oversized hoodie and clutched his coffee like it was his final lifeline.

"Just act normal. You’re normal. You are not a criminal. You are not a—"

THUD!

He crashed chest-first into someone, coffee nearly flying out of his hands.

Luca looked up…

…and froze.

Black leather jacket. Headphones. Phone in hand.

Him.

The guy he kissed yesterday. The guy whose cheek still haunted Luca’s dreams. The guy whose jawline could cut glass.

And just when Luca thought things couldn’t get worse, the guy slowly pulled down his headphones and tilted his head, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Oh,” he said, lips twitching. “You.”

Oh no.

He remembers. HE REMEMBERED ME!

Luca’s soul left his body.

“AH—!” he gasped, and spun around on his heel like a coward trying to flee from battle. But he only made it two steps before a firm grip caught his wrist.

"Where are you going, kissing bandit?"

Luca yelped. “LET ME ASCEND TO HEAVEN IN PEACE!”

“I don’t think heaven’s accepting you after that sneak attack,” the guy muttered.

And then Luca broke.

He spun back around and dropped to his knees like a monk at a mountaintop shrine.

“I’m sorry!” he chanted, folding his hands in prayer. “Forgive me, oh holy one! I have sinned! I kissed without consent! Please don’t sue me! I’ll donate to charity! I’ll shave my head and live in a temple! Just don’t report me to the campus ethics board! Or worse—social media!”

The guy blinked.

Students were passing by. Some stared.

Luca stayed on the ground, bowing like he was worshipping Buddha himself.

“I was desperate! It was the Angel×Demon Ice Cream! You don’t understand—I waited months! Months! I even made a shrine at home for it! There were candles!”

“…You made a shrine for ice cream?”

“I am deeply passionate about sweets!”

The guy exhaled a laugh. A real one. He rubbed the back of his neck and finally said, “Alright, calm down, drama king. I’m not gonna sue you.”

Luca peeked up, eyes wide.

“I’m not mad either. Honestly, it was... entertaining.” He crouched slightly to look Luca in the eye. “You’ve got guts, kissing a stranger like that.”

Luca blinked again, he gulps nervously. “...You’re not mad?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not pressing charges?”

“Didn’t plan to.”

“You’re not going to report me to the Ministry of Cheek-Kissing Crimes?”

“…That’s not a thing.”

Luca sniffled. “Oh, thank God…” Thank you, Heaven above!

The guy smirked and held out a hand to help him up. Luca took it, only to realize too late how nice the guy’s hands were. Smooth. Warm. Slightly calloused from gaming maybe?

Once he was on his feet, the guy added, “By the way, I’m Enzo. Enzo Vittorio.”

“…Vit— Vittorio?” Luca frowned. That name rang a bell.

“Yeah. My dad’s the one funding the new tech lab.”

Luca’s heart dropped into his shoes.

He. Was. A. Nepo baby.

THE nepo baby. Son of Vittorio Industries, the billion-dollar tech empire. The kind of guy who had an electric car before it was cool and a private VR gaming room in his dorm.

And Luca had kissed him like a lunatic. Fuck.

“I—I—” Luca choked. “I’m just a scholarship kid who’s failing accounting! You can crush me!”

Enziy raised a brow, clearly enjoying himself now. “I could. But then I wouldn’t get to see what crazy thing you’ll do next.”

Luca looked like he was about to faint.

And then Enzo added with a casual smirk, “You owe me dessert, by the way. For stealing a kiss and the spotlight.”

“I’ll bake cookies,” Luca whispered. “Every week. I’ll feed you with sugar until your dentist sends me death threats.”

“…Cool. I’ll hold you to that.” Enzo walked off with a lazy wave.

Luca stood frozen for several seconds before whispering to himself.

“...I kissed a hot nepo baby. And now I have to bake cookies for him. This is either the beginning of a romantic comedy…or my downfall.”

____________________________________________

St. Velour Church

The scent of melted wax and ancient wood filled the empty chapel. Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting colorful halos across the floor as Luca kneeled in the pew, hands clasped together like a man begging for salvation.

"Father... I have sinned," he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling with what could only be described as theatrical guilt.

A weary-looking priest, mid-60s with gentle eyes and a robe too big for his thin frame, glanced over from his place near the altar. He sighed softly, recognizing the boy. Luca had come once before to pray for good exam results, and once to apologize for accidentally calling his professor “Daddy” in class.

The priest nodded solemnly. “Go on, my child.”

Luca took a shaky breath.

“I kissed a stranger yesterday,” he said, voice filled with unnecessary drama. “On the cheek. In public. For ice cream.”

The priest blinked slowly. “…Was it consensual?”

“No! I mean… kind of? He didn’t stop me? But I didn’t ask!”

A family of tourists nearby turned to look at Luca with wide eyes. One old lady clutched her rosary tighter.

“I desecrated public trust for dessert,” Luca whispered. “My soul is dipped in guilt, Father.”

“…For dessert,” the priest repeated slowly.

“The limited edition Angel×Demon Ice Cream,” Luca clarified. “It sparkled. I’m weak.”

A child behind him whispered, “Mom, is he okay?”

Her mother gently pulled the kid closer. “Don’t stare, sweetie. He’s having a…spiritual episode.”

The priest rubbed his temples. “Son, perhaps you should consider talking to someone… trained. In matters of the mind.”

Luca nodded like he’d been delivered divine judgment. “Yes, Father. Therapy. Sugar. Maybe both.”

And here he is, inside the Sugar Dust Café. Luca sat in a corner booth, surrounded by plates. A matcha mille crepe cake. Strawberry shortcake tower. Chocolate lava cookie. Tiramisu. A hot caramel latte with whipped cream taller than his head.

This was his battlefield. His sanctuary. His sugar therapy.

He took a bite of the tiramisu, exhaled like a monk reaching enlightenment, and muttered, “Forgiveness is fluffy and layered.”

The door jingled open.

Luca didn’t look up. He was mid-emotional bite into a fudge brownie cheesecake.

Until a shadow stopped in front of his table.

“I knew you liked sweets,” a familiar voice said smoothly. “Didn’t know you were in a committed relationship with them.”

Luca froze. He stopped breathing.

He slowly looked up…

And there he was.

Enzo Vittorio—the full name Luca had googled in horror the night before. Son of a tech mogul. Absurdly hot. Always wore that damn leather jacket like he was born in a fashion ad. The man he had cheek-kissed and then chanted apologies to in front of a building full of witnesses.

Luca’s spoon dropped with a soft clink.

“Oh, no,” he whispered, reaching for his bag. “Not here. Not while I’m vulnerable. I’ve had too much whipped cream. I’m emotionally compromised—!”

But Enzo slid into the seat across from him.

“Relax. I’m not here to press charges. Or take your cake.”

Luca narrowed his eyes. “That’s exactly what someone planning to steal cake would say.”

Enzo smirked. “You talk to all your desserts like this?”

Luca folded his arms. “Only the ones who understand me.”

A beat of silence.

Enzo glanced at the table.

“…You really do eat this much sugar?”

“It’s called coping. With guilt. And emotional trauma. And capitalism.”

“Pretty sure your pancreas is calling for help.”

“Let it suffer.”

Another pause. Then Enzo chuckled and shook his head. “You’re something else, Luca Villani.”

Luca blinked. “Wait—you know my name?”

“You dropped your student ID during your dramatic escape yesterday.”

Luca made a sound like a kettle about to burst. “Oh my god. You saw the photo. Didn’t you?”

“The one the cashier posted on the café’s page?” Enzo grinned. “You trended for half a day. People thought we were a new couple. Hashtag IceCreamKiss.”

Luca slid under the table.

Enzo didn’t stop him.

Instead, he leaned down and said casually, “I didn’t mind the kiss, you know.”

Luca peeked over the edge of the table, eyes wide and scandalized. “Are you flirting with me in a dessert café while I’m emotionally unhinged?”

“I mean…” Enzo raised an eyebrow. “You did kiss me first. Technically, you started this.”

Luca groaned and face-planted back into the table. “I just wanted ice cream,” he muttered.

“Well,” Enzo said, stealing a spoonful of the brownie cheesecake. “Maybe next time, ask me first. I might say yes.”

Luca’s heart did a somersault.

“…Next time?”

Enzo smirked. “Only if it comes with dessert.”

"Please just kill me already..."