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Yuta is alone. He’d decided that he’d needed a day, away from everyone else, to just relax and spend time with himself, so here he is, in a mostly deserted art gallery, trying to find meaning in his surroundings.
And then Yuta sees him.
He’s standing, unmoving, staring at the giant oil painting in front of him. His facial structure is severe, making him seem like the type that might scold you for stepping out of line, or at least send you a very stern look, but right now his expression was serene and contemplative. Watching him gives Yuta the feeling of standing at the edge of a still lake at sunset, watching as the sun dips into the water to extinguish itself for the night. Some might call it inner peace.
Yuta thinks he’s beautiful.
The lights meant to bring focus to the paintings and statues match him perfectly, as if he belongs among them, but Yuta thinks someone this beautiful deserves more intimate appreciation.
Finally the beautiful statue moves, even if only to open his pamphlet and look at it with enough concentration that a small crease forms between his eyebrows.
Yuta feels breathless.
He watches as the man strides quickly out of the room, headed to another exhibit no doubt, and as badly as he wants to follow, his feet feel stuck to the ground, as if he’s been petrified in that instant. He watches the man go until the only thing left in the gallery is himself, with his quiet breathing to keep him company.
Yuta can't help but curse himself, feeling like he's lost an opportunity. Since when was he one to be tongue tied? No, being tongue tied would imply that he at least attempted to speak, while the word to describe him in that moment was something closer to dumbstruck. He doesn't even know what he would have said if he'd gotten the chance
"Hey, you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen.”? No
"You look like you could be the love of my life."? Definitely not
"Marry me?" This is getting out of hand.
Yuta shakes his head as if the motion alone can rid him of the image the man has left imprinted behind his eyelids.
He drifts from one exhibit to another, in a haze. It’s an off season for the museum, so he doesn't come across another soul, not even a curator. He sits for a while in a small café, enjoying some drink, he doesn’t remember exactly what he ordered but its something fruity and refreshing, and he studies his pamphlet, wondering where he should look next. Just because he has most definitely missed his chance with the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and lost all hope of finding him inside the massive, maze-like museum, doesn’t mean he isn’t going to attempt to salvage the rest of his afternoon. Alone time and relaxation, that what Yuta had come here for.
He finds himself standing in front of a statue of a woman, not quite remembering how he got there, when he hears the scuff of a shoe not far behind him. Yuta glances over and there he is, the mystery man, just as shockingly beautiful as the last time. He quickly whips his head back around, staring unseeingly at the statue, and it's just his luck that the man comes to stand next to him, barely an arms length away.
Yuta can feel his palms start to sweat.
"So," Yuta's head whips around again (he’s going to end up with whiplash at this rate), not expecting the man to break the silence, "Are we both just supposed to pretend you weren't staring at me?" The man has his chin tilted up slightly, as if observing the statue, but there's the faintest of blush over his cheekbones. Suddenly Yuta can feel his heartbeat in his throat.
“Hello?” the man tries again, now turned slightly to face Yuta, with that familiar crease between his eyebrows. Yuta wants to kiss it away. And then Yuta realizes that he’s been staring. Again.
“Hi,” Yuta responds, knowing a dopey looking smile is currently taking over his face but not being able to work up the focus to care, “I’m Yuta”
“Doyoung.” the man responds, bowing his head slightly.
It’s strange; his expression and voice are serious, steady, while his hands and eyes are fidgety, unable to stay still. Yuta thinks it’s cute that this man, Doyoung, is so strikingly handsome, yet he possesses undeniably cute tendencies.
“So are you going to tell me why you were staring?” Doyoung inquires again, turning his gaze to the statue once again.
“Why didn’t you say anything before? I didn’t think you’d noticed me.”
Doyoung’s blush deepens, “I might’ve gotten a little nervous.”
Yuta is utterly endeared.
He inches closer to Doyoung, so that their elbows are touching, and decides to bite the bullet.
“I was actually trying to figure out what to say to you,” Yuta cuts his eyes to the side to see Doyoung looking at him again. “You’re very beautiful, but I’m sure you get that all the time.”
Doyoung’s blush is more obvious now, and Yuta can’t help the way his heart swells slightly at the sight.
“I don’t,” Doyoung tries, before having to clear his throat and continue, “I don’t get that all the time. Thank you”
Doyoung looks like he’s thinking very hard about what to say next, and as the seconds tick on into silence, Yuta takes mercy on him. “Do you want to go get something to eat? I hear the café here is pretty good.” Doyoung looks at him, relief in his eyes, and nods enthusiastically. He also smiles for the first time, just a little one, but it’s enough to reveal adorable bunny-teeth and to squish the sides of his eyes just slightly.
Yuta thinks he might be in love.
They head to the café, arms brushing, exchanging basic pleasantries in hushed tones, and Yuta can only hope the café staff don’t bring up his reappearance. He’s been embarrassed enough for one day.
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Months later, Yuta will tell the story of how they met to their friends, for the hundredth time, and Doyoung will roll his eyes and call him annoying, and Yuta will just laugh and pull Doyoung close, kissing him until they’re both breathless, and smiling together.