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Hyunjin is splayed across the floor like some sort of high fashion star fish. The unforgiving wooden floorboards do little to comfort his lanky limbs and taut muscles, but he can’t find it in himself to move.
It’s currently 10:03 a.m., and Hyunjin has to get to chemistry class by 11. So by virtue of him having to high-tail it to chem in the not-so distant future, that means that after that single lecture he has his date with Seungmin.
His date with Seungmin, which is causing a volcano of molten nerves to bubble up in his tummy—hence why Hyunjin is virtually petrified in place on the floor.
A small smile tugged onto his lips as Kkami toddled over to lay right next to him on the floor, the pup’s little pink tongue poking from between his jowls. The canine never fails to bring a dopey grin to Hyunjin’s thick lips, despite how strained it may appear in the midst of his inner turmoil.
“Hey Kkam’, do you have any advice for me?” Hyunjin mumbled, reaching a hand out to stroke the silken fur of his puppy’s pelt. He tangled his fingers in the long tufts of fluff, his features automatically softening as he lovingly gazed at his beloved canine companion.
Dogs—technically—aren’t allowed in on-campus housing. It’s illegal, in fact, and strictly enforced at that. But upon move in day, Hyunjin hit his designated RA with his patented look-at-how-beautiful-I-am-you-can’t-say-no-to-me smile and sparkling eyes combo and just like that, the rules were bent—just for him. And Kkami, of course.
Hyunjin makes it a point not to use his good looks to get him places, but this is Kkami we’re talking about here! Desperate times called for desperate measures; and now a certain RA named Park Jinyoung is wrapped securely around Hyunjin’s finger.
“Hyunjin, c’mon, you have to get up now.” A new voice startled Hyunjin from his Kkami-induced hypnosis, his shoulders jumping in surprise.
“Oh my go—Kkami, you can talk?!” Hyunjin shrieked, his eyes popping out of his head as he scuttled closer to the pup in question. The petite pup seemed to eye him suspiciously, and—oh. He knows that voice.
“Oh, hey Minho.” Hyunjin grumbled with palpable disappointment, forcing himself to turn over to face his roommate. Hyunjin had the grace of a land-bound seal as he flopped over, but he somehow managed to make the clumsy movement seem relatively artful.
Minho is towering over him, arms crossed over his broad chest and his handsome features pulled firm. His patented, well-known and equally feared Bitch-Face; Hyunjin saw this one coming a mile away.
Hyunjin still wishes it was Kkami debuting his newfound ability for human speech—but his best friend and roommate will have to do.
“What's gotten into you?” Minho asked with a cocked brow, sinking down to sit cross-legged before a clearly distraught Hyunjin on the floor.
Hyunjin pursed his thick lips, feeling an unconscious blush start to creep up his neck.
“My date with Seungmin is today, and I’m so nervous.” Hyunjin admitted, averting his eyes from the all-too knowing gaze of Minho.
Minho, who unsurprisingly rolled his warm brown eyes at his roommate’s dramatics.
Minho is known around campus for being, kinda…..mean. And Hyunjin doesn't understand it! Hyunjin and Minho have had their moments, sure, but that's nothing but expected as roommates! Minho is, admittedly, a little bristly sometimes, but you just have to get it know him to see the gold under the metaphoric rust.
“Hyunjin, why would that make you nervous? You asked the guy out for god’s sake!” Minho exclaimed, somewhat indignantly. As if he wants to argue Hyunjin’s sentiment on Seungmin’s behalf.
Hyunjin shrunk under Minho’s pointed stare, his sculpted brows furrowing in turn.
“What if he doesn’t like me for me? What if he only wants to go out because I’m... pretty .” Hyunjin spat the last work out like it’s poison on his tongue. In a way, it is.
Hyunjin has always had a turbulent relationship with his undeniable good looks. While, yes, it does help him ascend the social ladder and place him almost instantly in everyone's good graces, it more often than not makes him want to wear a sack over his head. Go full on Man in the Iron Mask whenever he leaves his dorm.
Most people treat Hyunjin like a living piece of art, not like a person . He might as well be a painting smuggled out of the most prestigious art museum that was magically given a soul and heart. Not like anyone cares about something as trivial as what’s inside Hyunjin, mind you.
They mindlessly gawk and stare and bat their eyelashes at his every move, throwing themselves at his feet only to steal a quick second of eye contact.
Of course Hyunjin prays Seungmin is different, that he isn't like the hoards of love-struck students that chase after Hyunjin like a pack of hunting hounds after a hare—but he's rightfully wary. Seungmin has treated him like a normal person in the past; that's one of the reasons Hyunjin found himself falling for the star of the science department in the first place.
But what if it's another fluke? What if Seungmin will just think of Hyunjin as a trophy on his arm? Another glittering golden medal, like the litany of engineering competitions the boy has easily won.
The mere thought sends nauseating tremors through Hyunjin’s core. God, he wants Seungmin to be the one so damn bad .
But the majority of kids at their school don’t give two shits about Hyunjin himself. They only care about his beauty, only care about chasing the unattainable personified that is Hwang Hyunjin.
All they want is to have him; in the most hollow, conceited sense of the word. They want to brag that they talked to Hwang Hyunjin, or they made Hwang Hyunjin smile—throwing all desire for genuine interaction to the unforgiving breeze. It makes his skin crawl like it’s been doused in a colony of fire ants. And Hyunjin is terrified, more than he's ever been in his entire life, that Seungmin will be the same.
But of course, he has genuine friends who love him for who he is. Like Minho.
Minho, whose tight-lipped frown has softened considerably at Hyunjin’s confession. He reached a large hand out, placing it on Hyunjin’s shoulder and rubbing comforting circles into the flesh. Minho isn't just comforting, in his essence. He must really be trying, for Hyunjin’s sake.
“‘Jin, I think you know what to do if he only likes you for your face.” Minho spoke with enough softness to cushion a 1000 foot fall.
Kkami yipped, seemingly in agreement with the older boy.
I know, Hyunjin thought with a frown, that’s the problem.
But Minho is right—he can’t deny that, no matter how desperately he hopes Seungmin won’t be like the rest. Goddamn Minho, always being right. Always knowing what to say with a stupid, patronizing wag of his finger.
Why couldn't everyone be in love with Minho?! At least he has a good head on his shoulders!
Besides the kind of a rude bitch thing, but if Hyunjin can look past that, by all means everyone else should too.
“Thanks, Min’. But can’t you just go to chem for me and tell Seungmin I...um...got hit by a plane or something?” Hyunjin grumbled, absentmindedly drawing abstract designs on the grain of the floorboards.
“Hyun’, if you’re gonna come up with an excuse, at least have it make sense.” Minho shot back without missing a beat. He never does, when Hyunjin is involved.
And Hyunjin can’t argue with that.
Looks like he has no other choice but to bite the bullet, and go to class.
And then, onto his date with a certain brainiac who’s glasses-clad face has been appearing in Hyunjin’s every thought for too many weeks to count.
Their campus-housing issued wall clock continued to tick, the spindly little hands making their ceaseless journey around the tarnished face of the time piece.
The time now reads 10:31 a.m.
Hyunjin needs to go.
So he sent Kkami a final, pleading glance that translated as “if you're going to maul me to death, please do it now.”
The puppy just cocked its fluffy head, his two triangular ears bouncing about like a rabbit with the movement. The canine’s glossy black eyes seemed to stare right into Hyunjin’s soul, comforting him like a security blanket somehow grew four legs and a tail.
Or maybe his nerves are just making him officially lose his mind.
It's probably the latter.
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It has been exactly 23 hours, 58 minutes, and 46 seconds since Hyunjin asked Seungmin if he would accompany him on a date after their next chemistry session.
Their next chemistry session, which is now this chemistry session.
What once was something as unattainable as tomorrow has burst from its cocoon like a newly formed butterfly, spreading its wings as today. As here, and now.
Seungmin spent the entirety of long-forgotten yesterday thinking about Hyunjin. While he had his nose buried in his sociology textbook? He was thinking about Hyunjin. While he put the finishing touches on a project for his astronomy class? He was thinking about Hyunjin. While he was brushing his goddamn teeth he was thinking about Hyunjin.
When he woke up this morning until now? What a surprise—he was thinking about Hyunjin.
Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin.
Pillowy lips and model-like proportions, perfectly coiffed raven locks and that single birthmark beneath his eye like the ever present North Star in the night sky. But more than his exquisites features, Seungmin couldn't stop thinking about how Hyunjin made him feel.
It’s unexplainable—at least it is right now. He’s sure someone more romantically inclined could write a Shakespearean love-sonnet on the sappy emotions Hyunjin eeked out of Seungmin, but the boy himself is at a loss. All he knows is that he hasn't felt this level of pure happiness in weeks. Months, even.
Happiness is Hwang Hyunjin, as far as Seungmin’s concerned.
Their chemistry professor has just ended his lesson—some boring rant about delocalization of electrons—and the classroom is already alight with a symphony of zipping bookbags and crinkling papers being shoved into folders.
The lecture was a virtual minefield of thinly veiled distractions lying in wait for poor Seungmin; a sentient distraction that happens to be sitting in the desk flush against the window. All Seungmin wanted to do during class was look. Look at Hyunjin, smile at Hyunjin. But he didn't—in a display of borderline monastic willpower Seungmin didn't even know he possessed.
Before class started, he and Hyunjin made brief eye contact—and the unfathomably gorgeous boy sent him a wink; impish and sly yet still innocent and childlike. Seungmin smiled in response, and he swears his heart grew ten times larger, and one hundred times hotter. Whenever their eyes meet Seungmin swears the earth begins to turn backwards, skids to a halt and flips upside until their gaze breaks.
But that was the extent of their interaction so far—Seungmin kept his eyes firmly planted on his notes today during the duration class. He consciously kept himself grounded, halting himself from stealing endless glances to the row of desks by the window.
Where Hwang Hyunjin was sitting neat and pretty, like the living embodiment of beauty he is.
Jeongin, Seungmin’s ever present rock, kept a surreptitious hand on his best friend's thigh throughout the duration of the lecture—effectively keeping Seungmin stable. What would Seungmin do without Jeongin? No doubt be a vibrating mess, a trembling amalgam of sickening nerves and electric excitement. It wouldn’t be pretty, to say the least.
But class, suffice it to say, is over. Jeongin is packing up his things, valiantly trying to keep the cheek-splitting grin attempting to break onto his lips at bay. “ Good luck, Minnie.” He whispered to his best friend, before slinging his backpack over his shoulder and strolling out of the chem room. He left Seungmin in stifling isolation.
Or so he thought.
“So,” Seungmin jumped at the velvety timbre, whipping around to see none other than Hwang Hyunjin standing behind him. Deja vu, much? Hwang Hyunjin is talented at many things; and expertly startling an unsuspecting Seungmin seems to be near the top of that list.
“Are you ready to go, Seungminnie?” Like Jeongin, Hyunjin seems to be fighting a battle to keep the barely restrained smile twitching onto his lips from completely taking over.
A battle he is clearly on the losing end of.
But what kind of question is that? Is Seungmin ready ? He doesn’t think he's ever been readier for something in his entire life!
But instead of letting his intense excitement get the better of himself, he just nodded sagely. “Let’s go, Hyunjin.” He tacked on the back end, and their eyes met.
Sparks, fireworks, flowers of luminous gold burst throughout Seungmin’s vision as they looked into each other’s eyes.
Hyunjin hummed, melodic and sweeter than a classical sonata. “Follow me, my prince.”
It was cheesy and cliche and oh-so cringe-worthy; if Seungmin was supposed to care, he didn't. If he was supposed to grimace or wave away the nickname like a swarm of flies, he didn’t. In fact, he grinned, bright enough to blot out the silven light of the new moon, strong enough to make the flesh of his pudgy cheeks ache.
He followed, a skip in Seungmin’s step as if Hermes’ winged sandals were fastened in place of his worn converse. He followed his prince.
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In true broke college kid fashion, the spot for their first date ended up being the cozy coffee shop a few blocks outside their university.
Cafe 4419. It's quaint, and homey, and has enough plush leather arm chairs to seat the entirety of the haggard freshmen year. Plus, their carrot cake and caramel macchiatos can't be beat.
It’s where Seungmin exclusively sates his ravenous taste for iced americanos. In that sense, the cafe is a physical representation of his “bad habit”; a brick and mortar addiction with four walls, a door with tarnished bells above the frame, and a veritable Noah’s Ark of fatigued college kids looking for salvation from exhaustion.
To many of the students at their university, the lovely coffee shop serves as a home away from home; a sanctuary of smooth jazz and the earthy aroma of freshly brewed coffee, a haven to attempt to get your work done while also having an on-demand IV drip of caffeine at your fingertips. You're always in good company at Cafe 4419, and today is no different.
Case and point: Hwang Hyunjin and Kim Seungmin, nestled in the farthest pair of chairs right by the back window.
But Seungmin and Hyunjin are very evidently not here to cram before an exam.
Seungmin had been temporarily sat all by his lonesome in the well-worn leather armchair, his slight figure seeming all but swallowed whole by the rounded cushions.
But then his idle attention was roused by a metallic glimmer approaching the small marble table between the two chairs.
It's Hyunjin, with a hammered bronze tray held delicately in his hands. The metal platter is laden with drinks and sugary treats, but Seungmin has a sneaking suspicion their sweetness will pale in comparison to the human embodiment of saccharine comfort that is Hyunjin.
On one side of the tray is an iced matcha latte, next to a slice of salted caramel cheesecake. On the other is a black iced americano—no cream, no sugar. Sat neatly next to a hefty slice of dark chocolate fudge cake.
The side directly facing Seungmin, once Hyunjin carefully slid the tray onto their table.
Seungmin couldn't help getting slightly taken a back at the goodies Hyunjin single-handedly ordered for him. This is uncanny! There's no way this is a coincidence!
“Hyunjin, these are my favorites! How did you know?” Seungmin exclaimed, a grin of pure delight stretching his cheeks as he eagerly snatched the iced americano off the tray. He took a hearty swig, reveling in the familiar bitterness that washed down his throat.
It's slightly unpleasant, and more than a little acerbic. But it's that well-acquainted severity that becomes addicting after a while. In Seungmin’s case, a “while” was his first two months of freshmen year.
Hyunjin chuckled, light and airy. Seungmin swears a blush as delicate and rosy as the pink slices of strawberry shortcake in the display cases painted Hyunjin's cheeks.
“I may or may not have tracked Jeongin down yesterday, and made a list of all your favorite things.” Hyunjin mused with a small shrug, before taking an equally elegant sip of his latte. “See?” Hyunjin then took it upon himself to pull up an otherwise unassuming note in his phone, before thrusting the device over the table and into Seungmin’s eyes.
And upon closer inspection, the laundry list carefully typed into Hyunjin’s phone is anything but unassuming and mundane.
Seungmin’s favorite things:
-Iced americanos from Cafe 4419 (black, no cream and sugar)
-dark chocolate fudge cake (not milk chocolate!)
-photography
-DAY6! Anything day6!
-staying up late working on robotics (just dont comment on how bad the metal lubricant smells)
-studio ghibli movies (totoro)
-going out at 2 in the morning to look at constellations through his telescope
-me??? Apparently. Gonna have to ask jeongin to elaborate more on that one
There were at least 15 more little bullet points typed onto the note, Seungmin realized through his daze. He didn’t even know this much about himself! Wow— Jeongin really knows him, huh. And now by virtue of that fact, Hyunjin knows him too. Like the back of his hand. Seungmin can’t find it in himself to be anything besides utterly lovestruck; as if a veritable locomotive of affection creamed him into a vaguely Seungmin-shaped paste.
And luckily, Seungmin wasn't mid-slurp when Hyunjin announced that little secret and showed Seungmin that innocent note in his phone; he's sure he would have choked on the acidic concoction if he had been, reducing him to a spluttering mess.
He may not have been mid-swig, but that didn't stop Seungmin from sputtering incoherently anyways.
Jeongin was “tracked down” by the Hwang Hyunjin, and he somehow didn't shriek about it to Seungmin at ungodly hours of the night?! Maybe Jeongin is the one with the inhuman willpower between them.
Seungmin still firmly stands by the theory that if you look up the word “ best friend” in the dictionary, a photo of a certain Yang Jeongin would be listed as the first definition.
“Y-you did that?! For me ?” Seungmin choked out, his eyes flying open in his head because wow. Just, wow. No one has ever done anything so thoughtful for him, ever. The closest he got was when Jeongin pointed out the ream of toilet paper attached to his shoe before their first class in freshman year.
Hwang Hyunjin is something else. And Seungmin might be in love. Just a tad.
“Yes, Seungmin, for you. People do that stuff when they like someone, you know.” Hyunjin mused with a good natured roll of his eyes, as if duh, Seungmin. Of course I would do that for you.
Maybe Jeongin is right; for the “ Star of the Science Department ”, Seungmin might be a bit dense.
“Why do you think I took you here, Seungminnie? Jeongin told me that you really like this cafe, and the americanos here are your absolute favorite.” Hyunjin observed with another modest shrug of his shoulders, as if he didn’t just bring Seungmin’s subconscious to its knees once again.
Seungmin feels chemical reactions going off in his heart that have nothing to do with ions or beakers or vials of acetic acid. Feelings that have no scientific explanation. He thinks it might be love.
Wrong—he knows it's love. It's warm and feathersoft and feels like a cluster of stars nestled between his ribs.
Once the proverbial dust settled in Seungmin’s brain after Hyunjin’s little admissions, Seungmin couldn’t halt the next question to escape his lips.
“Why...why do you like me, anyways?” Seungmin probably shouldn't have asked that. In fact, he knows he shouldn't have asked that, if the sudden eruption of terror in his tummy means anything.
I don't actually like you, Seungmin. This is all a joke between me and my friends. Thanks for falling for it, nerd! Enjoy the coffee.
Seungmin’s hands began to tremor—he quickly stuffed them under the edge of the marble table, hidden from Hyunjin’s view. What if he says that? What if this is all an elaborate prank, and he was stupid enough to go along like an innocent sheep to the social slaughter?
But he wants— needs to know why somelike like Hyunjin has a crush on someone like him. Why he would go to such lengths to make Seungmin happy on their first date. It doesn't make sense. It's an enigma wrapped in a conundrum, tied up with a bow of mystery.
It's a virtual hedge-maze of nonsense straight out of Wonderland, if Seungmin were to be completely frank. He tried to understand it, but none of the spare gears or polished engineering trophies in his room offered him any form of help deciphering the human riddle that is Hwang Hyunjin.
Hwang Hyunjin, who hummed in acknowledgement of Seungmin’s quandary. He set his matcha latte down, leveling Seungmin with a gaze so focused on nothing but him it made his knees weak.
And then, Hyunjin shrugged for the umpteenth time. Seungmin swears he felt his heart careen right through the floor.
“I just always felt that you…” Hyunjin began, his already melodic tenor sounding drenched in pure lilac honey. “Treated me as a person , you know?”
No, Seungmin doesn't know. Not at all.
Hyunjin seemed to take his vaguely stunned silence as a cue to continue.
“We haven't talked that many times, but whenever we did I always thought you treated me like a normal guy. Like, remember that time I asked for you help with the ratio between ethylene glycol and carboxylic acid?”
Seungmin definitely remembers that. In the beginning of the semester, when Hyunjin crept up to his and Jeongin’s desk and implored Seungmin for assistance. Seungmin still remembers how beautiful he looked, even with his clunky lab goggles strapped over his eyes; he was shining and radiant, but oh-so confused. Of course, Seungmin jumped to his aid—but not because he’s Hwang Hyunjin, the famed Pretty Boy, but because he just needed some help.
And it seemed that little interaction meant more to Hyunjin than Seungmin ever could have known.
“When you helped me during class, I could feel how genuine you were being, how you wanted me to understand so I could do well. With no ulterior motives. I don't remember the last time someone treated me like... that. As normal, not something to be sought after like a medal. I think after that, I started falling for you, Kim Seungmin.”
Hyunjin punctuated his stream of consciousness with a luminant smile, yet there is a spark in his eyes that is skirting around unreadable. Vaguely wistful, slightly melancholic—but the somber gloss is overpowered by the twinkle of pure joy shimmering in his irises.
The smooth lo-fi tunes flowing from the cafe’s speakers grinded to a stilted halt in Seungmin’s ears. The once harmonious notes became a garbled mess, a dissonant symphony in tandem with the thrashing beats of his heart.
Oh. Hyunjin does like him. Oh.
Seungmin just sat there, eyes wide and owlish behind his circular glasses—which started to slide down the elegant bridge of his nose while Hyunjin spoke, but he didn't have the mental energy to push them back up.
Seungmin’s lips, which were left hanging open in a not-so flattering manner, instantly upturned into a huge and only slightly manic grin. Is this what real, genuine happiness feels like? Seungmin could get used to this, this feeling of fireflies waltzing in his tummy and an unceasing tap of pure electric joy being pumped through is veins.
Seungmin couldn't force any words out, let alone any that would make sense. So instead he nodded, with enough vigor to ruffle his head of brown locks into a vaguely electrocuted-looking mess.
He took a large bite of the dark chocolate fudge cake Hyunjin got him; it's bitter in a completely different way than his americano. Its harsh bite is mellowed by the rich, decadent icing that somehow teetered off the edge of cloying.
Hyunjin matched his expression of elation, before amicable silence enveloped the two. The only sounds were their forks clanking against the porcelain plates under their cake slices, and the icy rumble of their hearty swigs of coffee. And the thundering clap of Seungmin’s heart in his ears, but luckily Hyunjin can't hear that. Hopefully.
But then, Hyunjin broke that comfortable peace, with seven simple worlds and a suddenly uneasy set to his sharp jaw.
“Can I ask why you like me?” Hyunjin asked, trying to mask the way his eyes instantly darkened after the question left his plump lips.
Seungmin has a feeling his answer should be instantaneous. Suffice it to say, it wasn't.
He found himself utterly taken aback by the seemingly innocent query, in fact.
The answer should be rolling off the tip of his tongue in gale-force waves, should be pouring from his very soul and into Hyunjin’s waiting ears. But rather, he found himself deep in thought over how to respond.
“I'm not going to lie, I first started crushing on you because of how beautiful you are.” Seungmin began, his soft features pulled firm in concentration.
If he saw how Hyunjin’s smile immediately faltered, how his bright eyes dimmed and darted towards the ground, he didn't mention it. If he saw how Hyunjin's jaw clamped shut mid-chew of cheesecake, if he saw how his milky skin drained of all color, if he saw how his hand froze solid as if he'd been turned to a block of ice, he didn't say anything.
But maybe, he didn't have to.
“But after you confessed and I got to thinking about it, I realized that you make me feel,” Seungmin desperately tried to place the right descriptor on his tongue.
Thinking, thinking, got it.
“ Special.”
“I feel like I'm the only human being who exists, when you look at me. You make me feel important, and not just for my academics—for me. It's only been a day since you asked me out, but since yesterday I kept finding myself feeling so lucky to be me, for the first time in my life. And that's all because of you, Hyunjin.” Seungmin finishes his borderline rant with a shaking sigh. It's the truth, every word. And every syllable felt like honey dripping off his tongue and into Hyunjin's ears.
It may sound slightly silly for the boys to make such profound statements about the other, when they only had their first “real conversation” a measly 24 hours prior. But there’s something there between the two that Seungmin thinks is pure magic—out of the realm of empirical science. Hyunjin makes him feel happy to be himself, makes him feel loved and cherished.
It seems Hyunjin feels the same; if the hardly restrained, almost visible hearts pulsating in his starry eyes mean anything.
And this time, Seungmin didn't have to ponder the way Hyunjin’s previously stoic gaze instantly brightened, how his lips bloomed into a cheek splitting grin, how a barely-noticeable wash of tears flooded onto his milky brown eyes.
Tears of relief, of suspicions confirmed. And maybe, tears of joy. And a sprinkle of love, for good measure.
Hyunjin blinked away his rush of emotion before Seungmin could see, and placed a hand over Seungmin’s, soft and tender and impossibly gentle.
“We're so different,” Hyunjin mused with a lazy smile pulling onto his lips, “But we fell for each for the same reason, because we treat each other as—”
“People.” They two said in perfect unison, as if they are truly one being that had been magically split in two. Mitosis at its finest.
They bounced matching sparks of affection between their eyes; non verbal communication in its purest form. But there are some things you just need to say, some things a particular gleam in your eye can’t properly convey .
“Can I kiss you, Kim Seungmin?”
Seungmin didn't even need to think about his answer.
“I wish you would, Hwang Hyunjin.”
And so Hyunjin gracefully leaned over their table, taking care not to knock over their long-forgotten coffee cups, and did just that.
Their lips slotted together like two puzzle pieces, soft and chaste and innocent enough to barely be considered the suggestion of passion.
But for Seungmin, it was perfect. Hyunjin’s lips taste like strawberry lollipops and the melted remains of cotton candy, mixed with the residual herbal kick of his matcha latte. His lips taste like the sweetest candy ever conceived—Seungmin isn't terribly shocked.
And if the world feels like it freezes solid when they make eye contact, the earth might as well have turned itself inside out when they kissed. And when they parted, the universe felt in perfect working order, like a prophecy has been fulfilled and all the beauty in the world has peaked.
Maybe it has, because Seungmin’s swimming vision is filled with Hyunjin, Hyunjin , Hyunjin.
Two hours later, when their cakes were successfully scarfed down and their once refreshing iced coffees were reduced to nothing but a slurry of murky, melted ice mixed with the last remaining drops of flavoring, the two decided to call it a night.
After Hyunjin showed Seungmin every photo of Kkami on his phone—which admittedly is most pictures on his phone, and after Seungmin kept Hyunjin spellbound with every anecdote of his and Jeongin’s wacky antics he could think of.
After laughter, and blinding grins that stayed firmly in place through the evening, and maybe another kiss or two. Or three.
The sky is bordering on indigo when they leave Cafe 4419, hand in hand. The first stars of the night are beginning to awaken, as the sun made its final dip below the navy horizon.
“When will I see you again? I can't wait until chem class next week.” Seungmin grumbled through a pout. He knows he’s acting like a lovesick elementary schooler, but he can't find it in his heart to care.
Hyunjin giggled, and if Seungmin sounded like he's in 3rd grade, then that round of bubbly chuckles sounded right out of kindergarten.
“How about,” Hyunjin observed playfully, his doe-eyes darting off to some far off point on the dimly lit street corner. “Tomorrow?”
Tomorrow. How could Seungmin forget.
Tomorrow is theirs. Yesterday is overrated, today pales in comparison. Tomorrow sounds wonderful.
“Tomorrow.” Seungmin repeated, before darting forward to place a peck on Hyunjin’s cheek.
“That sounds perfect,” Seungmin mused with a smile bright enough to reignite the rays of the midday sun.
The next words they said were in perfect unison, two voices unable to be dissected apart, two souls intertwined into one and tied together with a satin bow.
Perfect, perfect, perfect. The world is perfect.
“Like you.”