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There’s something novel about school’s romance: simple mundane things as common as the seats by the window, the white curtain flapped against the wind, biased the golden sunshine into the classroom. Or the noises from the school’s yard: the traveled voice of the students doing P.E. running, laughing, breathless as they sweat under the sun. Simple gestures like the accidental meet on the school library, passing each other on the corridor or the stairs, buying bread or meals together on the cafeteria. Or stolen glances during class. Doing the class’s duties together. Ah, what a simple beginning of puppy love. Screaming the nostalgic and classic example about youth and sweet, rose-coloured days.
Takada Kenta was beyond 20 and currently living his university life. His supposedly school’s romance fantasy should be over by now as he wasn’t a high schooler anymore, but he was a hopeless romantic. Just change ‘school’ with ‘university’ and it will still be applied, he insisted. After all, despite attended a co-ed school, he didn’t have the luck to be able to experience those school’s romance. His high school debut means nothing at all else than the detention given by the discipline teacher because he dyed his hairs blonde against the school rules. Change it back to black or your hair will be shaved bald. He chose the former.
Now years later, he was on the third year of his university life. He applied across the ocean, faraway Korean University, one of the supposed top three S-K-Y famous one by impulse and somehow got accepted. Kenta remembered his essay: he described that he wanted to learn Korean’s culture, how he admired the rich and colourful history, and he wanted to know more about detailed stuffs of the culture he couldn’t access from his country. It screamed passion and earnest interest, and he was accepted with a special warm and welcoming letter from the Dean, assuring his abundance support for the youth to learning about the so called Ginseng Country.
What the Dean didn’t know was that when Kenta wrote those long and heartfelt essay, the Japanese boy was deep in K-Pop hell and practically worshipped Ricky from Teen Top. Substitute the sugar-coated ‘rich and colourful history’ with Teen Top comeback activities, and ‘more detailed stuffs about the culture’ with the chance to meet his idols during music events and fan-meetings, you got the idea.
Nevertheless, after days convincing his parents and finally get their approval, he went to Korea and managed to survived his dorm life there. His vocabulary expanded and he was slowly but sure communicate with his Korean friends. His Korean improved fast, to the point he sometimes forgot his own Japanese. Yeah, how genius of you, his sister mocked him once. Kenta tried his best to get good grade scores, enough to keep his scholarship (or his parents will asked him to went back home right away!) and lives his K-Pop dream blissfully. The only downside living in Korea? He was unfamiliar with Korean’s dating term and his so called university’s romance was never there. He was still single AF.
“You have Donghan, though?” Yongguk said as he stole a bite from Kenta’s lunch: the A special set consisted of assorted honey chicken accompanied by black vinegar simmered vegetables, a bowl of rice, a small portioned banchan, and a bowl of soup. Kenta irked, annoyed as he puffed his cheeks, “What do you mean with that, you stupid cat butler.”
“Well,” His roommate shrugged his shoulders, “He practically glued to you. You guys met on that one public seminar and BAM! suddenly my baby Kenta was followed by an oversized baby chicks. You guys were joined in the hips—you guys hug, kiss…”
“He followed me on his own, okay?” Kenta insisted, slapped Yongguk’s hand when he tried to took another piece of the chicken, “It was him who suddenly hug me or kiss me on the cheeks. You Korean guys and your skinship—“
“I don’t—“
“You’re Chinese though, Yongguk.”
“No,” Yongguk replied, “I mean, yeah. But no, Korean guys do have more skinship compared to the Japanese, but they don’t go over with that also. Your Donghan just didn’t have a limit for his touchy feely habits. Especially on you, because the truth I rarely seen him doing the same thing with other guys.”
“He’s not my Donghan…!”
“You guys sleep together so many times already to the point I’m not even surprise when I opened the door and see the two of you in bed.” Yongguk rolled his eyes, and Kenta hate that particular look on the latter’s face.
“We are JUST sleeping,” Kenta puffed again, “And it was him who crawled into my bed as he please.”
“But you always let him, though”
“Let him what…?”
As it was on cue, Kim Donghan showed up, carried his jjajangmyeon set and plopped himself on the seat next to Kenta. He sat so close, his shoulders brushed against Kenta’s—before the older male pushed him away, “Just eat your food.”
Ignoring the younger’s whining, Kenta dig deeper into his own simmered vegetables plate and happily exclaimed, “Oh, they have kabocha pieces today.”
“What?”
“Kabocha—Pumpkin. Winter squash. My favourite.”
“Don’t they always put that on the vegetables portion?” Yongguk asked, tried to stole another chicken piece and failed. “No,” Kenta slapped Yongguk’s chopsticks once again, “Last time they didn’t give me the pumpkin.”
“They did though?” Donghan chirped in, cheeks filled with noodles. Kenta shook his head, “No way, I’m sure I didn’t eat one at all.”
“Oh, I ate it.” Donghan answered and Kenta’s eyes widened as he grabbed the latter’s wrist. “WHAT.” He said the one word in a sarcastic note, asking for an overdue demanded explanation. The younger male only shrugged as he took another bite of his jjajangmyeon, “I gave you my slice of beef and asked for your eggplant and you said yes.”
“Yes, for my eggplant. Not for the pumpkin—“
“I accidentally took it along, so I ate it along with the eggplant.”
Kenta was baffled, but he didn’t say anything else. “My bad, sorry,” Donghan nudged him, and Kenta pouted, “Pumpkin stealer…”
“I’ll treat you tonight, no need to sulk.”
Donghan fulfilled his promise, and that was how Takada Kenta ended drunk. They ate the Tteok-bokki set on the place near the dorm, along with a big pot of ramyeon. After two bottles of soju, Kenta was drunk and laughing endlessly as he clinged into Donghan. “Stupid Donghaniiiieeeeee,” Kenta said in whiny tone, but he laughed right after and nuzzled his face on Donghan’s back. The younger male was piggy-backing him back to the dorm.
“He is totally dense, you know,” Yongguk said during their way back. Kenta was dead drunk and giggling, plastered himself on Donghan’s back. The taller male chuckled as he adjusted their position so Kenta won’t fall down, “So you knew.”
“I’m not stupid, you know,” Yongguk’s eyes were filled with a trace of pity and sympathy, “Everyone kinda know, since it wasn’t hard to see how two plus two is equal four. I mean this kid blabber about his so called wishful romance fantasy all the time. And you did almost of those things he listed: you tried your best to pick the elective classes he picked, even though he was two years ahead. You always keep two seats by the window for most classes just for his sake. You met him ‘accidentally’ almost everywhere: the library, the yard, the hallway, the cafeteria… Hell you even took him to dates—it’s a pity he never considered your lunch, dinner, movie and game center’s ‘date’ as a date. Being a total blockhead, he also often dragged me along on you supposedly date, so I’m sorry for ruining your moments, okay Donghan? Thanks for the treat, though.”
“You’ll say no to free food, won’t you?” Donghan chuckled, not really mind. The corner of Yongguk’s lips curled upwards, “Indeed.”
They reached the dorm right away, and the three of them approached the lift only to find a paper sign plastered in front of the door. MAINTENANCE, PLEASE USE THE STAIRS. They were dumbfounded for a while, the two of them, since Kenta was sleeping soundly on Donghan’s back. Yongguk stared at Donghan pitifully, “Our room was on the fifth floor.”
“I’m aware of that fact,” Donghan retorted back. He deadpanned, “Can you climb after us to keep an eye for him? Make sure he won’t suddenly woke up and fall, we both know he’s a messy, terrible drunk.”
“Aye.”
So after five floor and one hundred steps, they managed to reached the floor. Yongguk was wheezing, softly cursed, “This is one of the times I hate to live in the fifth floor…” He punched in the code and opened the door, then Donghan carried Kenta in. The room was totally familiar for him: Donghan spent too many times visited the room and Yongguk even joked that Donghan was their third roommate since he spent most of his night here instead of his own room.
Tolby and Rcy’s ears perked up, trotted to welcome them. Pets are not allowed on the dorm, but Yongguk was a super doting owner and he secretly brought his cats. Kenta and Donghan helped to keep it a secret—it’s quite a blessing that the two of them had been trained to not meow-ing loudly. Yongguk cooed at his furry babies, but Rcy wriggled herself from Yongguk’s hands and ran under the bed. The older cat, Tolby, just yawned as he flopped into Yongguk’s bed and nestled himself on his owner’s sweater.
Meanwhile, the younger male laid Kenta on the bed, took out his shoes and tucked him in. The night was cool enough as the spring breeze blew from the window, so they didn’t turn the air conditioner on. “Water?” Yongguk offered, and Donghan nodded. He was sweaty from all the lifting: sure Kenta was small in comparison with him, but the older male is still a man and a drunk man is still heavy to carry. Yongguk went to makeshift pantry area on the corner, took out Donghan’s assigned mug and filled it with water from the jar.
“Here,” Yongguk gave the mug to Donghan, then went into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. “Keep it PG, you hear?” He warned, and the younger male laughed. Donghan sat on the side of Kenta’s bed, mug in hand. He drank the liquid in three big gulps, then held the emptied mug dearly. Kenta bought the mug for him—gave him the mug after his -nth visit and proudly declared, “This is yours.” The white mug was filled with Moomin doodles all over, the Finnish mascot’s big eyes stared all over to different directions. “It looks like you,” Kenta bragged back then, “So I bought it for you.”
Donghan put the mug on the bedside table; then lied on his sides, facing Kenta. He supported himself using his elbow, stared intensely on the latter’s sleeping face. Kenta looked content and peaceful. His breaths were even, and sometimes he mumbled something faint in his sleep. Donghan traced the latter’s face using his fingertips, Kenta’s cheeks felt soft and squishy.
“You,” He said softly. And that’s it. Donghan didn’t say anything else as he leaned closer and stole a kiss on the latter’s lips—tasted slightly spicy from the Tteok-bokki sauce, with a hint of bitterness from the soju. You, you are the only one who made me like this: fell head over heels. Like a fool. I saw you on that seminar, and I was drawn into you. I knew right away that I need to make you mine if I didn’t want to regret later. You are pure and adorable and so easy to tease… such a hopeless romantic yet you are so dense you totally oblivious with my affections.
“Hey, Kenta-Hyung,” Donghan whispered, “I’ll fulfil your fantasy. I’ll be your dream romance, your Mr. Right. Just notice me already…” He stole another kiss, and poor Yongguk opened the bathroom door on the wrong timing. “Yeah rite, keep it PG my ass,” Yongguk facepalmed himself, “My innocent eyes…! My babies’s innocent eyes…! Seriously, just confess to him and end all of this secret crush stuffs. Then I could move out and roomed with Shihyun so you two could make this room into your love den or something. Just… don’t do it in front of me or my sweet Tolby and Rcy, damn it Donghan.”
Donghan just laughed.