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Yeosang loves muffins. Matcha muffins, to be a little bit specific.
The taste of a slightly burnt texture of the crust and the matcha taste melting into his taste buds has become his number one addiction at this point. Ever since his mother made him one when he was an elementary schooler — he couldn't get ahead of his love towards matcha muffins for anyone. Not even his best friend, Wooyoung could put his limited understanding of it.
It was a slow hour of the day inside a café Yeosang loves to spend most of his evenings in. With two matcha muffins and one matcha latte in front of him presented in the most desirable and scrumptious evening tea — Yeosang enjoyed his time very well. He opened his laptop and tried finishing some of his procrastinated assignments; which surprisingly took him only an hour to submit them all. He sipped some of his drink along the way; pretending to be a productive student living an aesthetic lifestyle inside an aesthetically appealing café with delicious pastries and coffees to enjoy. He thought that he has done a very good job at that.
Yeosang looked at the owners of the café behind the counter — sharing a few ticklish pecks with a mindful thought that no one would give an ounce of care to them loving in the public. He sighed — he knew it was unnecessary to hold invidiousness inside towards the innocent lovebirds; hell those lovebirds were the ones who kept smiling with pure gratitude whenever Yeosang ordered the same order over and over again. Yeosang wanted it, too. He wanted someone to hold him as the owner's boyfriend did.
‘That's wishful thinking, Yeosang. You'll never achieve that kind of thing’, he pondered.
He glumly downing on his favourite matcha muffin with a grey cloud on the back of his mind. Yeosang hated how the universe seemed always to remind him about all the couples that surrounded his single dull loveless life every day. It doesn't help that his best friend, Wooyoung has just gotten himself true love when a walking Mr Martin from Emma named Choi San proposed to him a few days ago — with one simple question “Will you marry me and endure with my foolishness over some of the technological innovations nowadays?”. To which Wooyoung cried with an oddly whispered ‘yes’ and screamed as if there was no tomorrow.
Oh, Yeosang was truly happy that Wooyoung has gotten his happy ending to a love story as once were just boyfriends and now husbands-to-be. Yet, he envied his best friend. He cried that night after Wooyoung left him to move out permanently from their once-shared apartment. He couldn't bring himself to tell a bubbly teary-eyed Wooyoung that he wanted the same thing, as well. Yeosang thought that he was such a bad friend.
His biggest dream was to have a lover that could handle his weirdly coded temper and stubbornness over little things. Yeosang wanted someone to propose to him with a matcha muffin where a ring was placed on top of the muffin in the middle of the sunrise on the meadow somewhere in the countryside Yeosang loves to visit. He wanted no confirmations of love from his love counterpart to verbally confess out loud — he just wanted silent yet firm actions that only two lovebirds understood. Blame it on his older cousin for always lending him romance novels that unsurprisingly raised his standards.
Thank goodness his muffins were always there for him. Always providing sweetness to soothe his internal heart pain every day.
---
“Oh, my love beautifully curated as a white snowflake. I'll make a little snowman and write our names. I'll love you even if it melts away. What the fuck? Does he lost his mind?”
Yeosang knew too well that Seonghwa's indication tone was not for everyone to decipher blindly. Despite his last eight words, he was close to becoming as red as the roses San used to give Wooyoung on that particular day that Yeosang loathed a bit.
To summarize the whole situation that Yeosang didn't know how he get involved in — a certain someone who made Seonghwa his favourite muse just sent him a light pink coloured note with three poetic sentences. Yeosang think he knew who was the anonymous sender but Seonghwa was all but sane so he kept his thoughts to himself. At first.
Besides, it was quite obvious actually. There was only one in the university who held an embarrassing amount of love towards the demure English major Park Seonghwa. Yet, that specific Park Seonghwa turned a blind eye because he was not very good at catching up with others' feelings. He was so dense that it made frustration crawl up on Yeosang's prickled skin most of the time.
“I think you knew who sent it. You don't need to me spell it out loud, right hyung?” he asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.
“What if I said the wrong person's name?” Seonghwa retaliated — there was a figure blooming inside his head, as obvious as he could be based on his sparkly doe eyes and blowsy cheeks. Yeosang smiled thin.
“Just say it to me. I promise I won't tell anyone.”
Seonghwa looked a bit hesitant. He scanned the whole library they were in thoroughly before speaking out a name that Yeosang have heard a lot from Wooyoung's Mr Martin. It was no other than the mighty tyrannical Music major...
“Kim Hongjoong?” he sounded quite unsure under his strained breath.
‘Finally’.
“Well, then there goes your obliviousness towards his very obvious heart eyes to you,” Yeosang retorted with a sly smirk painted all across his features — a tiny hint of relief if you look closely.
Seonghwa was perplexed by Yeosang's statement his mind suddenly went into an almost irreparable glitch. He closed his mouth with his free hand as the little paper on the other was shaking from a mixture of nervousness and jitters of knowing that the Hongjoong was just the same as his — dumbly in love.
“Oh my God, what should I do? If he likes me back, what should I do?”
Yeosang slapped Seonghwa's cheeks and cupped both of them with a determination burnt inside his eyes. “Park Seonghwa, Hongjoong hyung has been in love with you since he called you his muse, but I think he's fallen way before that. Before he thinks he's having a one-sided feeling, go talk to him before it's too late,” the younger suck a breath before letting them out with an intentionally heavy hum.
“Besides, I think he prepared a special song for you this week. San told me so, he's reliable,” he added.
“Really?” to which Yeosang nodded with his whole life depended on it.
“I guess I should-”
A familiar scream called out Seonghwa's name from the end of the hallway; weirdly could be heard very clearly from inside the library. Both Seonghwa and Yeosang turned to see the owner of the voice — which left Seonghwa frozen on his spot with red tints creeping up onto his face. His doe eyes glimmered under the dull fluorescent lights; an unnoticeable string of excitable tears dripped down from his right eye.
It was the expected yet unexpected Kim Hongjoong, looking dishevelled as always with an unmatched handmade colourful painted T-Shirt tucked inside baggy wretched denim jeans with twirls of threads hanging desperately from each rip of the pants. Oddly enough, Yeosang could spot the mismatched white-coloured sneaker with lots of doodles around it paired with a bright turquoise sandal with the Adidas logo removed and replaced with a cartoon character Yeosang didn't even recognise from.
Overall, Kim Hongjoong looked like a bunch of mess painted horrifyingly realistically by Monet. It didn't help that much when Hongjoong's eyes were droopy and red and carrying obvious black burdens underneath. He looked positively insane, just like Seonghwa but more obvious.
Everyone was sparing weird stares and throwing meant-to-be insults towards Hongjoong but he didn't care less. He saw who he wanted to see and the person he wanted to see gazed towards him back with the loveliest bambi eyes he has ever stumbled upon. Seonghwa was breathless and so did he-
Yeosang chewed loudly over the matcha muffin he secretly smuggled in — breaking the tension. Everyone now averted their attention from Hongjoong and Seonghwa to Yeosang who was absent-mindedly enjoying the ruins of the vibes he has created.
“What? Go on, keep creating that over-the-top sexual tension don't mind me.”
Seonghwa didn't care about the fuss Yeosang has made because he was making his way towards Hongjoong with full desperation and pinings he has to go through whenever the young producer was around — he was a bit taller than Hongjoong yet he felt so small all the time. He felt he was tinier than Tinker Bell with imaginative specks of Tinker Bell's dust surrounding him. Seonghwa wanted nothing but...
“I'm sorry for failing at one basic stuff all humans should excel at. I'm sorry for leaving both of us dumbfounded just because I was so unsure what I felt,” Hongjoong confessed, there was shakiness in his tone which was unusual for everyone else. Not for Seonghwa, however. He just listened, his heart has already been struggling to win this inner chariot race and leave butterflies inside. “I feel so pathetic right now, Hwa, truly sorry for this madness,” the younger added with a slower voice — only meant for both of them to hear.
“Joong, it's fine. I don't mind-”
“It's because I love you.”
Seonghwa didn't know what, where, who, why, when and how this real-life fantasy-like scene came from — yet he smiled so wide with more tears dripping down. Those were tears of relief.
“I love you most ardently. My heart aches so bad, it hurts whenever you ignored all of my signals. Most of the songs I sent to Eden hyung are all about you. You're my muse, I could never get tired of you. Be it about your day, the weather in your mind, the faint heartbreak when you watch a movie about a swashbuckling cat in boots or about a dragon with no teeth — I would never get tired of you as a whole.” Hongjoong paused, his voice getting shaky as he progressed. “You don't steal my heart, you carve your name into it. It belongs to you no matter how hard I try to deny it. And I hope I'll get a chance to carve my name into yours, too.”
Seonghwa was stunned. He did imagine how the confession scene between him and Hongjoong would play out — yet he didn't expect this. The vulnerability he knew Joong hated to show to everyone else behind the façade of a cold-hearted Music major who only had his eyes set on Seonghwa.
“Joong,” he called out, barely above a hushed whisper. He initiated a heavy slumped hug over the younger as his sobs grew louder each second. He didn't need to know that Hongjoong's firm arms protectively wrapped around his waist were one of the main reasons why he get so weak on his knees.
“You already have.”
The whole hallway and inside of the library cheered towards the newly bloomed lovebirds of the university. Yeosang smiled towards the lovebirds who were flushing red with the crowds surrounding them — asking questions about relationships and etceteras. He held the muffin paper wrapper closer to his beating heart, feeling another invidiousness plaguing him inside.
Yeosang wondered when it was going to be his turn.
----
A supposed-to-be love confession song that Hongjoong made for Seonghwa was playing inside the break room — made Yeosang want to throw up for how corny the lyrics are to him; which was a factual lie since he admired how Hongjoong could come up with poetic lyrics about mundane life Seonghwa was gladly having. He slumped over the couch that he took as a whole — glaring at other students who wanted to take an already unavailable seat on his claimed couch. It didn't help that the air conditioner was too cold for his good. He wrapped his upper body with his thick pink coloured jacket, while his right hand were peeking out from the thickness of the clothing piece as he was holding his dearest matcha muffin.
He took a slow bite of the crust, playing a little with a flavourful explosion inside his mouth as his mind replayed the lecture from two minutes ago nonstop. Yeosang and Seonghwa have already forged a good plan to do the next assignment — a duo/group assignment to be precise and discuss the importance of literature and its impact on the current civilization. He already has two to three points in his head and he'll let Seonghwa contribute to his supposed to be job to elaborate those; if the polaroid picture behind his phone case and the murmurs of reserved dirty jokes aren't distracting as much.
Every day after their classes ended, Hongjoong would always be spotted at the main entrance/exit of the lecture hall. With the most ridiculous outfits paired with a sly smirk as he leaned himself over the grand door — it was enough for Seonghwa to feel hypnotized and went towards the young producer after saying a quick goodbye to Yeosang. Yeosang had enough, but still not enough. He doesn't quite get it, either.
Yeosang then realized in the hard way that he needed to buy a pair of earplugs after the night when he could hear sinful noises mixed with Seonghwa's loud whimpers and cries and Hongjoong's sharp growls and praises towards the dainty English major. They were neighbours. Yeosang used to love having Seonghwa as his neighbour meaning that both of them could go to the lectures together. Now, he also needed to rethink his decision of having Hongjoong as his additional new neighbour.
“Sangie,” a toned-down whisper called him right above his exposed left ear. He flinched at such a horrific ghostly whisper when his eyes met with Wooyoung's usual twinkling eyes. He went along with waves of relief after.
“Youngie, what the hell?” he was met with a sheepish smile from Wooyoung instead.
“I have the new hottest gossip I want to share,” he was sparkling — too excited for some groundbreaking tea he received from whatever source he heard from. Yeosang nodded his head with no sense of fighting back, already knew his luck whenever Wooyoung was around.
“San told me he received classified information about a new boy in the area who apparently is his cousin,” Yeosang sighed lightly, Wooyoung slash San and gossip indeed are an inevitable trio. Even a figure with somewhat distant relatives with his closest friends could be the talk of the group. “A poor sophomore Seoul boy with the soulless eyes we've ever seen.”
Yeosang didn't understand the new hot topic Wooyoung was babbling about. “What do you mean by Seoul boy? He's a new sophomore here?”
“Yeah, apparently he didn't like his old university because of how toxic his dormitory was and worst, their infrastructures are bad. Lecturers used to abuse their students verbally there and would use their power to dispose of any students that disobey them. Which always end up sour,” Wooyoung whispered as if it was a sacred sentence to listen to, which in fact quite the opposite as Yeosang's eyes widened in terror.
“TMI but not exactly TMI, he is in History major, same as I do and San said he's frequently catching up with Hongjoong hyung and Yunho's fiancé, Mingi. Hongjoong hyung said they have known each other back in their school days. Impressive, isn't it?”
Impressive, indeed. Perhaps having his new neighbour who always made his favourite brother slash mother figure in this university screamed his name out loud in the middle of the night could be good sometimes. Mingi, who is set to marry Yunho after this semester always overshares situations in his past — making up for Hongjoong's reclusiveness about his own. He practically knew Mingi's old enemies and old friends, which dog Mingi have to witness it dying on the 29th of January 2009 and why Mingi was so scared to speak at his kindergarten podium and peed his pants once. He knew almost everything about Mingi and perhaps, he could find out more about this particular sophomore who left his shitty university to further his study in a better place.
“But why here, though?”
Wooyoung clicked his tongue as if he was expecting that question to come out from his best friend. Sometimes Yeosang hated the fact that Wooyoung could read him like an open diary consisting of the most embarrassing things inside.
“Because this university is kinder towards its students than his old one did. And he wanted to get away from Seoul since life's there kinda more hectic than here,” Yeosang let out an understanding ‘ah’ as if it justified the poor sophomore's choice to move here.
The university Yeosang chose to further his English studies wasn't that bad — the lecturers were kind enough not to push the deadlines towards their students’ faces, the infrastructures here were quite good; he didn't have to worry about jogging a mile to the nearest convenience store because his uni already has one. Thus, their 24/7 convenience store's foods are always free for students who brought their midnight starving slash broke student passcard — a card with their name written in a bold white font under their hideous ID taken picture. He loved it here and it justified why this university became almost everyone's first choice.
“So, why did you tell me about this sophomore who also happens to be San's cousin? What has he gotten to do with me?”
Wooyoung pouted in frustration instead of replying. Which he already did but not in the way that Yeosang wanted. “No one was interested in this newcomer whatsoever. He was lonely and I'd been tasked by heaven to spread his name out just so he can make friends other than Hongjoong hyung and Mingi. You know what both of them are acting like right now.”
Sadly, Wooyoung was right — Yeosang hated to admit that most of the time he is always right. No matter how utterly ridiculous his best friend could be, with Mr Martin who is so clueless yet so passionate about whatever his Emma was doing; he knew he still kept half of his sanity inside his head and acted accordingly to the situation. He knew Hongjoong's recent priority is only to make love to Seonghwa and worship his whole existence while Mingi is busy preparing for his upcoming wedding and it can't be helped when he is a perfectionist. Everyone has led their lives somewhere — having partners and a confirmed future with a little bit of help from parents' funds and degrees. Maybe, Wooyoung is truly an angel disguised as a devil-like troublemaker.
Yeosang himself doesn't have anything else to do. He has a solid friend group, yes, but he felt lonely whenever he joined every hangout — damn he loves being single but being surrounded by couples all the time? Having to witness dirty words mingled with flirty phrases every day in the group chat? Having to see most of them make out right in front of your face with pitiful apologies after?
Maybe being friends with this lonely sophomore could wrap a comfort bandage on his truly lonely heart. Both of them could share the pain of being the only people with no love counterparts inside a friend group where everyone is practically in love with each other.
Yeosang made up his mind. He persuaded himself that this will be one of his best decision ever.
“Okay, Wooyoung. Tell me what's his name.”
Wooyoung grinned, his eyes cited a mischievous look that somehow didn't shake Yeosang as much as he expected.
“His name is...”
---
“Choi Jongho?”
Hongjoong nodded his head with the most expressionless face he has ever done in his lifetime. He watched San's face shift into a screaming figure he saw in a painting last week. “Choi fucking Jongho? Out of everyone, Wooyoung persuaded Yeosang to make friends with?”
“Hey, just because he once split your whole lunchbox into half while contemplating about capitalism that shaped our society today doesn't mean he should be a solitary man forever. Plus another point, he's your fucking cousin,” Hongjoong retaliated.
“I mean I know, but despite his cold demeanour, Yeosang is a little bit of a scaredy cat. Don't you have like.. any sense of worry that Jongho would give a bad impression on him? He's not very good at that, you know?” Hongjoong let out a heavy hum. He hated to admit that San was right.
It was after a day that Wooyoung boasted to the others that he wanted to be a useful version of Cupid — to match a clueless yet firm Yeosang and a poor freshly newcomer History major Jongho. He claimed that he wanted to witness what kind of spark will be there if those two are together. “Maybe they will be the last couple in our friend group!” Wooyoung once beamed. “I see it! An English major and a History major? A pair for a lifetime!”
To be honest, the group had the desire to agree with Wooyoung's seemingly innocent intention — to empathise with Yeosang's indescribable loneliness with no one to share the same page of love he's been dreaming about. Wooyoung knew Yeosang ever since they were middle schoolers, whenever Yeosang was given topics that were related to love to converse about, Yeosang has been nothing but acts like an innocent romance book author who only imagined what romance truly is inside his blooming head. He had always been a hopeless romantic — not even Wooyoung could help it. All Jane Austen books on his bookshelf, the same 2005 Pride and Prejudice kept replaying over and over again almost every night and essays about Jane Austen as the respectable romance classics author, in general, proved how out of touch Yeosang's imagination about love in reality.
“But I know Yeosang. He would never judge people that easily. He'd rather sympathise with Jongho rather than belittle him,” Hongjoong calmly said, assuring the younger that he was acting a bit of a worrier. San smiled back, his doubts about Yeosang accepting Jongho as the way he is slowly dissipated. He couldn't help but care too much about Jongho.
“Even if when he found out about..,” San trailed off, didn't quite want to finish his sentence but luckily Hongjoong knew too well what he meant.
“Just pray for the best, and prepare for the worst. Although I doubt Yeosang would want to cut off just because of the questionable background he has,” the older smiled. San reluctantly agreed.
San silently prayed to anyone who ought to listen to make Yeosang's wish to fall in love come true — and hoping that the person Yeosang wanted to find his whole life for would be the epitome of his Choi Jongho.
---
Yeosang was just finishing tying up pink ribbons on his black hair. He wanted to interpret some of the style's inspiration from Mingi as he donned a white loose cardigan that covered his half-exposed shoulder with only just a floral printed singlet and a long soft pink skirt covered to his toes. He didn't know why Mingi loved these types of outfits, and he always watched Yunho's love eyes brighten under the pale fluorescence intensity of light above the lecture hall — along with whispers of sweet nothings that do mean something.
He looked up and down at his reflection in the big mirror San gave him as a birthday present last year. He spotted a heart-shaped birthmark perfectly matched the shade of pink he decided to wear today. Yeosang bit his lips in amusement — Wooyoung reminded him that today would be his first meeting with the so-called Choi Jongho. He held in the unnecessary order inside to cover up his birthmark; not when it completed the look he's been styling for an hour.
Along his way to the library — he didn't even know why he was overly dressed for today because there were no lectures scheduled on Sundays, usually. Maybe because he wanted to look more cute and productive in every living person's eyes. Maybe because he felt Mingi's influence became more noticeable in his life.
Maybe because he wanted to impress Jongho.
He sighed contently — his eyes wandered off the walls that divided the library and the hallway. He wondered if Jongho is truly the history geek Wooyoung and Mingi have always been praising. Everything about him is a package of every wish of love Yeosang has contained since he was a teenager. Philosophical yet unserious, full of niche jokes about the history and random facts he found either on Google or experienced himself, wearing transparent square-shaped glasses almost every day and would make an effort to adapt to someone else's peculiarities of habits. Oh, Yeosang just realized he has a tiny bit of a crush towards the history geek based on Mingi's suspicious smirk and Wooyoung's uncontrollable laughter and hiccups of satisfaction. He pouted at that.
“Jongho loves to go to the library and you'll suspect that he will be making himself home at the history section, reading boring books about old kingdoms or something,” Mingi once said with full confidence, as if he knew too well about Jongho. Well, he did know Jongho in a sense of old friends who lived in the same neighbourhood and also went to school together — it made Yeosang think both Mingi and Wooyoung and perhaps San's claims of Jongho's traits were true.
He immediately searched for the man that he imagined inside his head in the history section — which as usual empty with only piles of books to add the crowdedness and illusion of maximalism. Yeosang thought he imagined things; he didn't see anyone there except books. Did Jongho hide behind those piles of encyclopaedias? He wanted to know but at the same time was terrified that he would interrupt his privacy — if Jongho was truly there.
Before he could make a move, though, he felt two taps on his left shoulder from behind. He turned to see a young girl with somewhat a normal ID-taken picture tagged on her shirt's breast pocket. Kyonjin, ironically, was written under the picture. ‘What a cat-like name for a person who resembled a golden retriever look,’ Yeosang thought. He smiled and tried to look as approachable as possible.
“Hi, how can I help you?”
God his voice is so fakingly high-pitched, he wanted to screech from embarrassment.
“Ah, I actually have to give you something,” she halted before reaching out to pull something out from the same breast pocket. It was a folded letter with a matcha muffin enamelled pin — something that Yeosang least expected at all. He was bamboozled to his core.
“This is actually from someone. He said I should give these to you,” Kyonjin smiled widely, anticipating Yeosang to shakily accept the letter and the enamel pin. His mind suddenly wandered to some of the situations Seonghwa once have to endure months ago. He has gotten himself a sense of déjà vu once again.
“Did.. did you remember what he looks like?”
Kyonjin let out a questioning hum, her eyes looking up as if she tried to remember something. Then, she smiled again — a dog-like smile that doesn't suit her name at all. “He has round cheeks and wears transparent square glasses. He also said that he just newly moved in here from Seoul, to study history major and psychology minor. He looked a bit like a downer when he asked me to send it to you but when I said I can help him,” she pointed out the letter and the pin on Yeosang's trembling hands. “He brightened up for heaven's sake. Also, he looks a lot like a teddy bear. Small head, squishy cheeks but well proportioned built. I didn't know he is also a gym person, that's one hell of a surprise.”
Yeosang's breath came to a halt as he felt the whole library, especially the history section swallowed him up. What did she mean by the sender's reaction when Kyonjin mentioned Yeosang's name to him? Why did he glow with contentment whenever his name was mentioned? Why did Wooyoung keep dropping him a few not-so-subtle hints of the mutual pining he probably is facing right now? What did she mean that he went to the fucking gym? He looked at Kyonjin with the realisation that it was indeed a man he wanted to find sending him these heart-stopping silly love letters lookalike.
He thanked Kyonjin for doing the honours before he walked away from the sacred section that was responsible for tormenting his heart; in a good way. Yeosang clutched tightly onto the paper and proudly wore the enamel pin on his cardigan, even though he knew it doesn't suit his whole aesthetic today at all. He didn't care at all; all he felt was butterflies around him screaming ‘Finally you're in your romantic moment!’. Red colour decorated his cheeks, for sure.
He couldn't wait to unfold the paper and read what was inside.
---
“Pardon me for having none of the courage I should have to meet you. I am incapable of holding a conversation with other people, and I was shaking when I was told about you. I hope this inconvenience wouldn't taint your view of me as a whole and could lead us to a better starting point as new acquaintances. For a moment before our official first meeting, I give you an enamel pin of your favourite. San told me you can't live without it so I hope that's a first. Sincerely, Jongho.”
Mingi, Wooyoung and Seonghwa let out horrific archaeopteryx-like shrill screeches after reading the letter, leaving Yeosang both flustered and a blushing mess. It was quite the opposite of what the writer of the quote-on-quote love letter expected, his view of Jongho didn't taint at all— he was just getting better and the imaginative flag was just painted in a brighter shade of green.
“Yeosang, you're just securing yourself your own Mr Darcy! Even Hongjoong is not as gentlemanly romantic like Jongho is,” Seonghwa chirped, but then his tone shifted into a whisper. “Don't tell Joong about this. I still love him but he's responsible for my back and ass pain,” Both Mingi and Wooyoung were appalled by the sudden short TMI from Seonghwa. Yeosang was traumatised enough.
“First of all, don't share your overly horny sex life here. Hongjoong has never been the same since he confessed to you three months ago. Second, Jongho is not as aloof as Mr Darcy is and never pride in whatever he has. He's reclusive but quite open about his opinions. I think Jongho and Yeosang are going to be a splendid pair!” Wooyoung was enthralled as he put back the folded letter onto Yeosang's makeshift bed.
“Uh, isn't that the same? Mr Darcy is also open about his opinions as well,” Mingi quibbled towards an already defeated Wooyoung. “But yeah Jongho is not a prideful man. He's just like Mr Darcy at the end of the book,” he added with a smile on his face.
“And a movie! It's a timeless beauty of classics, bae,” Wooyoung blurted out, holding Yeosang's DVD of 2005's Pride and Prejudice with Keira Knightley's dreamy face plastered onto it.
It was a lovely Sunday afternoon Yeosang regretted so much for overdressing. He invited Mingi, Wooyoung and Seonghwa to his little haven of the dorm for a silent ha ng out with contemplation of everyone's love lives and exchanges of ideas for current assignments despite Wooyoung being a History major and Mingi being a Communication major. Well, it was not as silent as Yeosang thought it could but whenever Wooyoung and Mingi were involved, silence became non-existent at that point. Also, he needed more help with his unreciprocated feelings towards Jongho. He doesn't even meet the man of his dreams yet.
“Oh, I didn't know Jongho is the type to flirt. Sure his ways of getting to Yeosang's heart are oddly different, but still,” Wooyoung nodded his head in agreement over Seonghwa's murmurings.
“What do you expect from him? To flirt like those athlete jocks who are pretentious as shit?” Yeosang snarked, his mind replaying every moment of those jocks who thought they were better than everyone — while in fact, Jongho is probably better than most of them. Or all of them.
Yeosang widened his eyes as the realisation hit him like a truck carrying tons of cement. His cheeks were in hot red as he pondered — just why did he have to think about Jongho? He doesn't know what the man really looks like, hell the only information about him is only from perhaps reliable yet insufferable sources like Wooyoung and Mingi.
“Oh, what are you thinking about, Sangie?” Wooyoung raised his eyebrows with an obvious sarcasm laid beneath, a sly smile painted on his lips. Yeosang has a tiny bit of desire to slap Wooyoung's face with his self-made Pride and Prejudice poster here and there.
“Why can't I see his pictures? Why don't all of you share his social media? Even his Instagram? Please I'm in dire need,” Yeosang wept while wiping off a few fake tears to persuade his friends. Yet, his friends remained unfazed; Wooyoung looked more mischievous than ever with Mingi trying his best to suppress his laughter.
“Because I want to judge you. If he's handsome enough to tempt you or too ugly to be standing next to the mighty Kang Yeosang,” Seonghwa stated rather calmly, opposite the other two on either of his sides.
Yeosang let out an exaggerated sigh. His friends were nothing but true warriors to help him find his one true love, yet they were doing nothing to mend the so-called pain in his heart. He has been waiting tiredly for someone to pop over in his life claimed to be a devoted Ken to his not successful version of Barbie — or secretly romantic Mr Darcy to his ridiculous unassertive sarcastic version of Elizabeth. Oh, he wanted someone to love him with the most respect they have upon him; act of service as the love languages and words of conformation written in pages of letters despite how odious it could've been. He was so close yet so far, it made him spiralling into an unnecessary mental breakdown.
“Just why?”
Seonghwa smiled, his smile was genuine enough to put Yeosang's racing of uncountable questions into a matter of pause. The older pat Yeosang's fluffy haid in a benign motion — soothed the hopeless man into his own serenity. It made Yeosang wanted to laugh; the déjà vu that happened to him was not something he expected at all. Yeosang was used to be Seonghwa's role in the current time, coaxing the other to realise love can be plausible if they played the cards right. Seonghwa used to be so dense about his feelings for the others; drove both him and Hongjoong into an endless pit of madness. Now, the roles seemed to switch.
“You'll find out soon.”
Yeosang hoped that the ‘soon’ will come faster than he expected.
---
“Promise me you'll be assisting Mingi's make-up in our wedding, eh? But don't make Mingi too beautiful, I'll be having a cardiac arrest before I could even say my vows.”
Yeosang smiled towards an energetic Yunho, who was wearing his wedding black tuxedo inside the changing room area. Originally, Yunho invited the latest lovebirds; Hongjoong and Seonghwa to test the waters of choosing the best tuxedo to wear for his wedding day. Unfortunately, as expected, he didn't get the calls back from both of them and when Yeosang tried to call Seonghwa, all he heard was loud moans and slapping sound and degradation kinks coming from the other side — both Yunho and Yeosang were traumatised inside the break room. It doesn't get any better when everyone inside the room looked at them with the most disgusted look they've ever seen; Yeosang has forgotten that he put the speaker on.
For their own good and for an internal compensation for an embarrassing moment earlier, Yeosang agreed to go with Yunho for choosing his wedding attire.
“I'll be delighted, Yunho. It will the happiest day of your life, I guarantee,” Yeosang assured, fixed minor flaws on Yunho's white coloured bow and straightened the fabric of the tuxedo. “Besides, Mingi also called me to help him choose his dress tomorrow, so you guys owe me something,” he added with a raised brow, caused Yunho to playfully slumping his shoulders and heaved out a whine.
“I treat you twelve matcha muffins today as a payment,” Yeosang was more than chuffed. He hugged Yunho as he bounced like a thrilled little kid who was promised by their parents to go to Disneyland.
“Deal, bro?”
Yunho smiled. “A deal is a deal.”
After they spent an hour inside the wedding boutique; and Yeosang watched blood rushed out from Yunho's face when he found out about the price of his wedding suit — Yunho gladly treated him the promised twelve matcha muffins from the same café Yeosang loves to go. He was glad that Mingi has chosen a right person to be eternally in love with. He admitted he was quite reluctant when Mingi introduced Yunho, who looked a bit too much like a stereotypical university playboy with both girls and boys on each of his arms. Oh, he loved to be mistaken sometimes because Yunho was obsessed with Mingi only; Yeosang meant it in a good way. He was sure Mingi and Yunho's relationship would be everlasting — from his first glance it was obvious to foretell.
“Here's big package of matcha muffins just for my lover's best friend slash bridesmaid,” Yeosang laughed with Yunho's witty remark yet still accepting the muffins from the taller's hand.
The muffins were wrapped inside a paper bag and he could smell the taste even when it was wrapped way too secure for his own good. He mouthed “Thank you bro” with his eyes gleamed with gratitude. He didn't even thought Yunho was serious about treating him today after he playfully teasing Yunho about the debt the taller has. If Yunho could buy him twelve matcha muffins with nothing but sincerest regards inside — he wondered what could it be when it comes to Song Mingi. Soon to be Jeong Mingi; he insisted to change his last name according to Yunho's.
“Mingi is so lucky having you as his husband, Yunho. I know you'll take a great care and love him unconditionally,” Yeosang blurted out, leaving Yunho nothing but choked out of his Americano and a blushing mess. Oh, Yeosang used to be dumbfounded whenever Mingi and Yunho were a babbling mess with red cheeks — now he understood that too well.
“Oh, I wish. I was surprised when he said yes. I mean, he could have anyone better than me,” Yunho replied, a timid voice that was unusual coming from him. Yeosang raised his left eyebrow towards the self-degraded sentence.
“Believe me, Yunho, Mingi wouldn't have want it any other way. You're practically his soulmate and you're stuck with him for the rest of your life,” Yeosang shook his head with vague of warmth radiated from inside. He wanted to crush both Mingi and Yunho's heads and screamed “You're fucking in love with each other and don't belittle yourself for heaven's sake!” respectfully right in front of their faces.
Their conversation about Mingi and the upcoming wedding went as smooth as a silk, Yeosang tried to dig up more information about the wedding's theme, the venue and the invitation — Yunho insisted that Yeosang should be in charge of inviting and he couldn't bring himself to trust Wooyoung; not after what he did to his anniversary with Mingi once.
Out of the blue, Yunho's eyes flicked away from Yeosang's attention and went somewhere behind his shoulder. His smile gone wider and his shoulders fallen into a pit of familiarity. What Yeosang didn't expect was the name of someone that came out rather casually from Yunho's lips.
“Jongho!”
Yeosang's brain was perplexed by a familiar glitch. The sirens went all out, alarmed him with the presence of the Choi Jongho he's been waiting for the past week. His hands were shaky, his mind suddenly went into an unspeakable haze — oh my God he really is full of dramatic traits that Wooyoung discovered first before he did. He hid his face behind the book he's been carrying inside his tote bag. He thought that this will be their official first meet — he wished half-heartedly that he was wearing the same outfit he wore last Sunday.
“Hyung, it's been a while!”
Yeosang wanted to scream right there. The overflowing of honey coated with the velvety silk of a voice that kept replaying inside his mind — oh he couldn't dare to take a peek from his Mansfield Park novel and admire Jongho very egregiously.
Big fucking mistake, Kang Yeosang.
“Ah, Jongho! Meet Mingi's soon-to-be leader of bridesmaids, Yeosang," Yunho seemed to not be able to read the tension that rose inside Yeosang's drumming heartbeat.
Yeosang put aside his Mansfield Park novel, exposing himself over a walking God's favourite in front of his love eyes. His breath hitched dramatically, familiar tinges of shiver and warmth covered his whole body and made his shy and silly crush on Jongho more noticeable on his face.
Jongho is... too handsome to be his Mr Darcy. He is more handsome than all the fictional men Yeosang has ever imagined loving — that was the craziest shit Yeosang ever think of. His big dark brown eyes gazing upon him as if he is the loveliest creature in the whole world, a small smile on his teddy bear-like features that somehow reached his eyes and a few fringes covering his forehead — he is physically attractive for just being himself. Not to mention the white black vest with a rip-off old school-like name tag pinned on the left side of his vest and white loose pants that suited Jongho's personality as a fashionable History geek. He involuntarily plopped down on the seat right across Yeosang's face — the same small smile never left his face.
Jongho's lips parted into a small gasp, eyes lit up under the warm bulb hung up right above his head. He intently watched Yeosang's face slowly but surely getting redder than he expected and his pink lip-glossed lips bitten in the shyest intention as possible. Jongho's intense gaze as if Yeosang has been growing a pair of wings suddenly emerge from his back made him feel so special. Perhaps there was a spark that Wooyoung kept mentioning these past few weeks. Maybe Seonghwa's thought about not sharing Jongho's Instagram account was a very foolish move — to judge Yeosang if he does view Jongho as a very hideous man; he could never do that.
Even if Jongho's face is less handsome than Yeosang could ever imagine, he could still have swooned at the younger. But hell, Jongho's looks are a massive bonus to all the charms and calming presence he has in himself.
“The sexual tension is a little bit unbearable to bear right now, honey-shits,” Yunho chided, looking towards both Yeosang and Jongho as if they were committing a heavy crime against mankind as a whole.
Yeosang smiled with an awkward glimpse in his eyes, purposefully avoiding Jongho's sparkling eyes against his own. He internally screaming against everyone he knew — Wooyoung for sparking his interest about Jongho, San for being Jongho's cousin, Mingi for being encouraging to support Yeosang's far-too-gone crush, Seonghwa for switching their roles of being a person who knows almost everything and Hongjoong for blowing Seonghwa's back and led him to an embarrassing moment earlier in the break room. Yeosang couldn't find a fault in Yunho, he never annoyed him that much, ironically.
“You're beautiful,” two words that spluttered out from Jongho made Yeosang's a great mess. He looked towards the older with the sincerest eyes he's ever seen — oh Yeosang knew too well he has gotten himself fallen into an endless pit of hopeless romantic. Jongho's real life appearance just ramped his love-filled imagination to the unimaginable maximum amount.
He thanked Hongjoong for blowing his lover's back silently. He was glad Seonghwa couldn't come to help Yunho today — because Jongho is here, heart-eyes whenever Yeosang was on the center of his sight.
Matcha muffins are no longer remembered, precisely.