Chapter Text
It came to him in little waves, at first.
Like the ones that you feel on your feet when you’re standing on the shore of the beach, the warm gentle movement of the water teasing your skin.
He noticed it in the way Jay’s eyes would linger on his face—sparkly and all—even after laughing his ass off because of some corny dad joke Jay made out of nowhere.
He noticed it in the way Jay would “unconsciously” hold his hand when they’re walking home together, fingers intertwined like lovers walking along the streets of Paris at night. Sometimes, Jay would even make sure that Sunghoon is walking on the inner side of the sidewalk and Jay by the road.
He noticed it in the way Jay would often ask him what his favorite food of the week is and proceed to make it with his mom for Sunghoon to have. The third time Jay asked, Sunghoon felt a little silly and told him that he’s craving papaitan. Sunghoon didn’t think Jay would actually do it, you know; the latter stayed up until two in the morning just to finish cooking it. Needless to say, since then, Sunghoon is careful with whatever food he picks.
Which brings them to where they are now, at Mang Larry’s Isawan.
Yesterday, Jay asked Sunghoon what he wanted to eat for lunch the following day. Sunghoon thought about the chicken adobo Jay cooked for him the other day and the kare-kare (Jay’s mother’s recipe) the day before that. Looking back, Jay has done more for Sunghoon than Sunghoon for Jay—and this made him feel like shit.
“Mang Larry’s tayo.” Sunghoon replied, then added, “My treat naman.”
Inevitably, Jay protested, saying that Sunghoon should save the money because he remembered Sunghoon asking him if he knew how the financial aid grants work in Ateneo. To be fair, Sunghoon never told him why he asked that, but knowing Jay, he’s not an idiot and can put together the puzzle pieces.
Nevertheless, Sunghoon stood his ground and Jay yielded—as usual.
“Sarap, ‘di ba?” Sunghoon enthusiastically asks Jay, who’s waiting for his second order of the popular pork sisig. Sunghoon just finished his first plate and is also waiting for his new order—pork barbecue with rice.
Watching the other boy eating, Sunghoon now understands why Jay likes feeding him in the first place; a meal is sacred after all, and we all need to eat in order to survive. Good food, he ponders, is food made with love, food not only made for the purpose of life sustenance but for the purpose of saying, “I want you to live well, and I want to make sure you live well.”
Sunghoon’s order arrives before Jay’s. Because of the unexpected number of additional orders, they both decided to split the bill (knowing that Jay would be happier in doing so).
As Sunghoon begins eating, he encounters a minor struggle: the pork barbecue would not come off the stick. Sure, he could just bite it off, but he has always preferred taking them off the stick first then eating them with rice. Jay knows this.
Of course, he does.
And it is for that reason that Jay steps in to help.
“Let me.” Jay declares as he grabs Sunghoon’s utensils and pulls Sunghoon’s plate towards the center of the small table.
Remember what Sunghoon said about little waves?
That is what’s going through his head as he watches Jay meticulously and effortlessly remove the pieces of meat off the stick—except this time, it hits him like a tsunami.
As unromantic as it sounds, Sunghoon realizes that Jay is in love with him the same way Sunghoon has been in love with Jay while they’re eating at Mang Larry’s Isawan.
Jay.
Park Jongseong.
His best friend of almost five years.
His partner-in-crime, the only person who willingly signs his name in the attendance sheet even if he’s absent.
His soulmate, as what many people around them have been labelling them—which Sunghoon now sees clearly.
It’s around one in the afternoon. Thankfully, the sun is nowhere to be found behind the thick clouds, but Sunghoon can still feel a subtle warm kiss on his skin. There’s a soft golden splendor in the area, and, at that specific moment when Sunghoon is slapped with an epiphany, everything slows down.
Looking at Jay, Sunghoon feels like he’s seeing things—there’s a divine-looking nimbus around him that has taken Sunghoon’s breath away.
The three words sit at the tip of his tongue, seemingly pushing their way through Sunghoon’s teeth and out of his lips. He could feel the desperation clawing its way up through his throat as well.
“Oh, kumain ka na.” Jay mutters under his breath, but loud enough for Sunghoon to hear. The former pushes his plate right in front of the latter, hands holding out for Sunghoon to take his utensils back.
Sunghoon obliges as he continues to stare at Jay.
And the thing with Jay is that he’s not an idiot and can put together the puzzle pieces.
So, it comes as no surprise that Jay meets Sunghoon’s eyes and smiles—the kind of close-lipped smile that causes his cheeks to rise a fraction and his eyes to turn into little crescents.
Sunghoon’s favorite Jay smile.
God, he’s really in love with his best friend, and his best friend is in love with him.
Jay’s order arrives. Sunghoon continues to watch his best friend from across the table.
For some reason, Sunghoon feels like this is only the beginning.