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Though he knew it would wrinkle his uniform and would most probably annoy his roommate, Haruto stayed leaning against the cyclone, lollipop stick sticking out of his lips, as he watched across the field with pretend disinterest.
But really his heart was racing.
He had not seen Kim Junkyu for a few weeks. Haruto had the stupid exams to blame for that. He knew Kim Junkyu had been busting his ass to pass them all.
But though Haruto never understood other students’ obsession over test scores, he preferred the idea of Kim Junkyu sitting alone in his dorm, nose almost rubbing on his books.
Because only then was Haruto sure that no one could get near Kim Junkyu. And he could have him all to himself in his head, where Junkyu was his and his alone.
Now the exams were over, and Kim Junkyu had resurfaced and was having fun under the sun again. And it was as if his face fed on sunlight, as if it was made to be displayed under the sunlight, because it radiated a glow that made you want to look at it till the end of time.
This time Haruto’s eyes flicked towards Kim Junkyu’s boyfriend sitting on the bleacher.
Haruto wondered whether Park Jihoon knew how lucky he was to be able to look at Junkyu’s face everyday. Freely. Closely.
“What are you doing?”
Haruto startled. He turned to see Jeongwoo standing beside him. Haruto blinked at him. “What?”
But instead of repeating himself, Jeongwoo turned to look where he’d noticed Haruto was looking. When he realized what Haruto was doing, he turned to flash a smirk at his roommate.
“You creepy stalker,” he said.
“Get lost,” growled Haruto.
And when Jeongwoo didn’t speak again, or laugh, like he usually did when Haruto faked an annoyance, he turned.
But Jeongwoo was already walking away.
Haruto snorted. Finally with the force of his upper body, he pushed himself off the cyclone and started jogging after Jeongwoo. Then finally spitting the lollipop from his mouth, he grabbed the latter’s hand to stop him. Then he made him turn so that they looked at each other face to face.
“The hell?”
Jeongwoo stared at him. Haruto waited.
Then Jeongwoo snatched his arm away from him and left him standing there, dumbfounded.
That pissed off Haruto. “Whatever,” he called, “don’t talk to me at the apartment!”
Haruto waited for Jeongwoo to turn, to say something back.
He didn’t.
Haruto huffed. He looked back to where Junkyu was now tossing the ball, then catching it. He was laughing. And his bangs bounced as the ball bounced, and his boyfriend was laughing, too, pleased probably by the view.
Haruto decided he’d had enough.
Readjusting his bag, he walked off the field.
The sky threatened a rain. And Haruto looked up in the sky with a painful expression on his face because one: he hadn’t brought an umbrella, and two: Jeongwoo would probably badger him for forgetting to do that because the rain would mess up his uniform.
And three, Jeongwoo would merely ignore him and number two wouldn’t happen.
Which was worse.
Haruto couldn’t deal with that right now. He had a lot going on in his mind. And the last thing he needed was being in a room with the same person who would certainly treat him like a ghost until he decided he was not.
“Haruto-ya!”
Haruto snapped out of his thoughts and looked surprisingly toward the owner of the voice.
Which was Kim Junkyu’s, whose head was peaking out of the car. The car slowed in front of him. Once it stopped, Haruto saw Jihoon smile and waved from the driver’s seat.
Haruto bobbed his head in a nod.
“Get in!” said Junkyu. “It’s about to pour!”
Haruto looked at Kim Junkyu, at his face. He was smiling at Haruto like he knew Haruto as if they were as close as his fingers.
In his head, Haruto had already said ‘ No ’. Because ‘ I’m still mad at you for being with Jihoon and for showing publicly how happy you seem in that decision ’.
“Is it okay?” he said instead.
“Please,” he heard Jihoon say.
Haruto hopped in.
And he would spend the next ten minutes drive to the apartment regretting that. Though Junkyu was kind enough to engage him in his and Jihoon's conversations, Haruto thought whatever he had to say was no match for Jihoon's deep, philosophical elaborations on Music, its origins and how it had now evolved into a form of not only self-expression but more helpfully, an escapism.
Meanwhile, the last time Haruto’s teacher had asked him what he thought about Music, Haruto had answered, almost proudly, “I like The Weeknd.”
The car finally stopped. Haruto looked out of the window into the facade of their apartment then back to Junkyu. “Thank you,” he said.
“You’re very much welcome,” smiled Junkyu. Jihoon smiled.
And Haruto was sure he could not tell who was copying who.
Haruto finally jumped out of the car.
“Anyeong, Haruto-ya!”
Haruto smiled, genuinely.
I can get used to that .
“Bye, hyung,” he said.
“I can do with just Junkyu ,” said Junkyu.
Today, out of all the days, Haruto was only truly grateful to Jeongwoo for forcing him to use BB Cream, because he could feel his face heating up now. “Okay,” he said, “ Junkyu .”
“Bye, Haruto,” said Jihoon.
Haruto’s eyes flicked towards Jihoon. He smiled at him. Or at least he tried.
And once the couple drove off, Haruto turned to look up to the window of the room he shared with Jeongwoo. Bracing himself, he huffed. Then he walked into the apartment.
How Jeongwoo had managed to not utter a single word for the whole hour was lost to Haruto. It was record-breaking. And for over the course of that whole hour, Haruto had contested that, putting on a stubborn act of resisting the urge to just go and ask Jeongwoo what the hell his problem was.
As he usually would.
But he could still not get Junkyu and Jihoon out of his head.
He wished he had refused that ride. At least then he could still pretend as if Junkyu and Jihoon weren’t together and he could still somehow muster the courage to confess to him in the future.
But he had let them prove it to him, to his face. And he had only sat there, like a fool, as if he consented to it, that he supported it—
A notebook was slumped onto Haruto’s desk and he startled.
He looked up to find Jeongwoo standing beside him, but before they could even make eye contact, Jeongwoo turned, face blank.
“Ya!”
Jeongwoo stopped but didn’t turn.
“What is this?”
Jeongwoo turned this time. “You’re welcome,” he said, then turned again and walked back to his desk.
Haruto turned back to his desk and looked at the writings on the pad. And as his eyes scanned it, they widened, remembering only now about the homework that was due first thing tomorrow.
He spun around to look at Jeongwoo, who was now switching off the lamp to his desk, then slid underneath his blanket to. . . sleep?
Haruto frowned. “Jeongwoo,” he called, “we haven’t had dinner yet. You—”
“I’ll eat later.”
Haruto fell silent. Sighing, he read now the essay Jeongwoo had written for him. But then as he began to, his eyes kept flicking back to the title.
Apple?
Haruto glanced over his shoulder, at his sleeping room-mate, then back to the essay.
The task, Haruto remembered, was for them to write a 300 word essay on what they wanted to achieve or get before the school year ends. And when he and Jeongwoo had talked about this yesterday, he’d told the latter that his would be a person, someone he would like to be his.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jeongwoo had said, accusingly, “Mr. Choi was talking about our dreams .”
“Exactly.”
“Oh, god. This isn’t a freaking diary, Haruto.”
“I have no other idea.”
“You never try.”
“You know I do.”
Jeongwoo had rolled his eyes, sighed defeatedly. “Screw this,” he’d said, “tell me about that person . Give me a damn context.”
“Kim Junkyu.”
Now, as Haruto read the essay, he couldn’t help but smile. Jeongwoo had concluded it in a way he didn’t see coming. Jeongwoo had started the essay comparing Haruto’s life to the Garden of Eden.
Haruto didn’t notice when it happened or how the essay had eventually led to it, but Jeongwoo had somehow managed to ultimately include Kim Junkyu in it, in which he was alluded to as the ‘Forbidden Fruit’.
Haruto’s smile broadened. And he glanced over his shoulder once again.
An idea popped up in his head. Grinning now, he launched to his feet then grabbed the blanket off Jeongwoo’s body.
He smirked when Jeongwoo looked up, surprised, looking not-so-asleep at all.
“What?” Jeongwoo snarled.
Haruto snorted. “Get up,” he said, “I’ll treat you to dinner.”
Jeongwoo stared at it for a second. Then, rolling his eyes, he snatched back the blanket and covered himself with it, completely ignoring Haruto.
Haruto snatched the blanket again, laughing quietly now. As Jeongwoo opened his mouth to say something, Haruto inched closer, breathing a “What?” to Jeongwoo’s face.
Jeongwoo closed his mouth, looking away.
Pushing Haruto away, he finally swung his feet and got off the bed. As he bent down to get in his shoes, he said, “I want fried chicken.”
“Sure, wh—”
“And Burger King.”
Haruto scoffed. “What do you thin—”
Jeongwoo started removing his shoes again.
“Fine,” barked Haruto, “fine, let’s go.”
Haruto and Jeongwoo found themselves sitting by the lamppost on the sidewalk an hour later. Haruto clapped his hands clean as he chewed the last of his burger. Then, looking down, he picked up his coca-cola and with it washed away the beefy tang of the patty.
Beside him, Jeongwoo was quietly chewing on his burger. Haruto looked at his roommate with a smile on his face.
Looking away he said, “I feel foolish now.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jeongwoo look at him, waiting.
But Haruto didn’t continue. He laid on the ground, on his back.
“Ya!” he heard Jeongwoo say.
Haruto smiled, looking up to the starry sky. And he was just about to say ‘It’s not dirty’ when Jeongwoo said, “You’ll wrinkle your shirt.”
Haruto let out a chuckle. He licked his lips. He thought back to what he’d seen a month ago. And he wondered whether what he’d started to assume was correct.
He had been rummaging through the laundry basket one afternoon. It was beside Jeongwoo’s desk, underneath which hid a wastepaper basket. It had gotten Haruto's attention because he’d seen, through the holes of the basket, an old picture of himself. He had retrieved it from said basket and had later asked Jeongwoo about it.
Jeongwoo had only looked at him, eyebrows knitted, the same way Haruto would look at him when he would try and explain to him the quantum theory. Then he had ignored Haruto, leaving Haruto confused and wondering whether it was him who had thrown that picture there.
But he was sure, as soon as he’d finished the essay an hour ago, that that wasn’t the case.
So he sat up now and looked at Jeongwoo. “Jeongwoo,” he said, and Jeongwoo turned to look at him, chewing, his mouth full. He raised his eyebrows.
“Are you in love with me?”
Jeongwoo stopped chewing. He stared at Haruto for the longest twenty seconds and Haruto stared back, waiting.
After swallowing, Jeongwoo snorted, chuckled, then took a sip of his coca-cola. Haruto waited. But Jeongwoo only took another bite of his burger.
Haruto leaned back, supporting his back with both hands on the ground. He looked up to the sky. “I thought I was in love with Kim Junkyu,” he mumbled, smiling, “but I realized I was just trying to find someone I can give my attention to. . . because. . . And Kim Junkyu was cute and he was nice to me. Very much. . . Unlike you. . .”
He didn’t know whether Jeongwoo was looking at him right now or not, for he had closed his eyes, letting the chilly breeze of the night caress his face.
“I never realized until today,” Haruto went on, “that I could give it to you instead.”
This time Haruto opened his eyes, sat up straight and looked Junkyu in the eye. “You’re not that hard to like,” he smiled.
Jeongwoo looked away. He began to stand up. Haruto grabbed his hand and pulled him back down.
Haruto was only now realizing that he had always known Jeongwoo. . . harbored feelings for him.
And Haruto had even acted on them before, teasing Jeongwoo with a surprise kiss on the neck, sometimes the cheek, or by slipping in Jeongwoo’s blanket and cuddling him to sleep. Jeongwoo would always try to resist, but Haruto had always had the stronger grip.
But Jeongwoo would soon tire of this to the point that he would hurt Haruto’s feelings with the words, “ Stop being such a perv, we’re roommates for chrissake !”
And Haruto had left him alone since. Those words had sunk deep in his heart and forever etched in his mind because he had always regarded Jeongwoo as someone intelligent and sensitive, not capable of saying those things.
But that was a long time ago. And now, Haruto had a chance to have someone he could give his time and effort to, someone he could take care of. And wouldn’t it be much better if it was someone he trusted? Someone he knew well? Understood well?
So as Jeongwoo sat looking at him, he said, more serious now, “Are you in love with me?”
Jeongwoo laughed. Or he let out something that could have been a laugh. “Are you in love with me?” He repeated, mockingly. “You’re so un—”
“I read the essay,” said Haruto.
“So?”
“You said there I can’t love Kim Junkyu because he is an Apple,” said Haruto, “the Forbidden Fruit because I can’t have him. I shouldn’t want to have him. Because he has a boyfriend, right?”
“Well, that’s the idea,” said Jeongwoo, “it doesn’t have to be literally compared to the Bibl—”
“Yeah, I’m not stupid,” said Haruto, then after a moment, “so do you love me?”
“What the h—”
“Remember that picture—of me—that I found in your basket?” Haruto searched for recognition in Jeongwoo’s eyes, but he only saw confusion. But that was okay. He would enlighten him. “Before throwing it back, I saw something scribbled at the back.”
And there it is. Eyes widening. Remembering. Recognizing.
Jeongwoo began to get to his feet again, but Haruto held him tight.
“You wanna know what I saw?”
“No.”
“Someone wrote ‘ but you’re an Apple ’.”
Even in the dimly lit street, Haruto could see Jeongwoo’s blush. Smiling, Haruto cupped Jeongwoo’s chin. He made him look at him.
Then Haruto looked at Jeongwoo’s lips. As he did so, he looked back to the times Jeongwoo would tutor him, and say things that never really got in Haruto’s head. But he would just watch Jeongwoo talk, watch his lips move. For him.
Now it was time to see for himself how they tasted.
Leaning closer, Haruto grabbed the back of Jeongwoo’s shirt, crumpling it with his hand, pulled him closer then kissed him.