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“Excuse me?”
The voice, unmistakably Korean, makes me lift my head from where my eyes have been trailing over the newest pair of Vans in the store window. Slipping into my mother tongue, I spin around, a polite “How can I help you?” on the tip of my tongue.
I’m faced with Kibum, head held up high, cheekbones highlighted with glitter, eyes rimmed with eyeliner. Huh. My cousin’s BFF was honestly the last person I expected to bump into when I left my house this morning for my last-minute shopping trip.
The feeling is apparently mutual if the surprised sound coming from him is anything to go by. “Donghun? What–?”
I shake my head; an amazed laugh escapes me. I can’t believe he’s here. What are the chances? It seems so unreal, us running into each other so many miles away from our home country, in a place I’ve made my new home. Is he aware that I permanently moved to London, that I cut ties with everyone back in Korea? He must be, right? He and Minho have always been inseparable; my cousin must’ve mentioned it at some point.
Kibum, eyebrows raised and mouth agape, seems to catch himself and takes a step towards me. There’s a smile growing on his face as he spreads his arms, making it impossible for me to tear my eyes away from his lovely features.
“I’m not dreaming, am I?” I say as I step into his embrace, and his scent, still familiar after all these years, envelops me.
He laughs, the sound vibrating through his body, a comforting feeling where I’m pressed against his chest. “I sure hope not. This is a nice surprise.”
Inhaling deep, I step back and smile up at him. Has he grown? He didn’t use to be this much taller than me. Confused, I lower my gaze, taking him in. He looks good, confident. “I see you’re still trying to be a fashionista. The heels are new, though.”
Turning to the store window we’re still standing in front of, he beams at me through the reflection and fusses with his permed hair. “They are.”
“I like them. They suit you.”
“Thank you.” He gestures at the display behind the glass. “I take it you’re still trying to be subtle in showing off your pride?”
The shoes he’s pointing at, the ones I’ve been looking at, are flipped upside down, showing off the bright rainbow colours on their soles.
“No”, I frown. “I’m actually trying to be more open.”
He doesn’t say anything as he turns his head and raises an eyebrow at me.
“Those aren’t for me,” I clarify. “I need a present for a friend. Plus, you know, they are the wrong colours.”
Realisation dawns on him. “Ah, that’s right!” He shakes his head. “God, I’ve had you listed in my mind as queer – not specified further. But Minho said you were ace.” He pauses and huffs. “That actually makes a lot of sense, come to think of it.”
Yeah, he’s right.
The way I was always drawn to him, but felt weird when his flirtations got too serious, too forward, leaving no room for imagination for where he was willing to go, it made me realise that crushing on people the way other people experienced it didn’t make sense to me. He was the reason I finally found a name for the disconnect I felt in my teenage years. I owe him so much, his confidence a vital part in my journey to myself. And even though I all but up and left after our shared kiss, I still consider him to be my first serious crush. At least for me, despite being lost in a confusing jungle of attractions, it makes sense.
“It does, doesn’t it.” Lost in thoughts of mumbled excuses and blurred lines, of thrilling emotions and puzzling feelings, I jolt when Kibum suddenly throws his arm around my shoulder.
“I’m craving coffee. And quality time with you.” He squeezes me into his side, a one-armed hug that would’ve been awkward with anyone else. “Hope you’re free today because I’m not letting you go any time soon!” he singsongs as he stirs us towards the nearest café.
I just smile and bump my head against his shoulder. I’m sure Junhee will cover my shift today, the people pleaser that he is. “That sounds amazing. Your treat though.”
Huffing out a laugh, Kibum agrees. “I did always have a soft spot for you. That hasn’t changed apparently.”