Work Text:
Blond waves bounce giddily in the dim cafe lights as a certain cashier mops the floor, gleeful smile painted across his features as he seemingly mumbles a song.
The sight makes Kyubin pause in his steps, attention turning to focus solely on the man.
This wasn’t the first time Kyubin had noticed him, something he’d come to acknowledge a while ago, however this was the first time he was considering gathering enough courage to enter.
He sees the cashier everyday, passing by the cafe early in the morning on his way to work and late in the evening on the way back. And no matter what happens at work, no matter if it’s raining or sunny, the cashier will always be there, joy adorning the corners of his eyes as he leisurely hangs around.
Kyubin isn’t sure if the cashier has noticed him. He's not sure if he’s noted the way Kyubin will stand slightly down the street, leaning against a telephone booth, watching as the cashier dances around the cafe when he thinks no one’s watching.
And now, stuck to the ground in an awestruck manner as he watches him twirl around, mop in hands, Kyubin isn’t sure if it’s nerves or something else that causes his throat to tighten up.
The cashier leans down, seemingly ending his performance, imitating a guitar riff before hurrying into the back to discard the mop. While he’s gone, Kyubin takes a couple deep breathes, reassures himself that he’s thirty and attractive and will definitely not stumble over his words when he finally gets to see the cashier up close.
With that thought, Kyubins foot meets the first of three stairs, while his hand reaches to push open the door. He's confused when it doesn’t open, and instead seems to only shut tighter.
His eyes observe the door, and quickly fall atop the quite obvious handle, and he feels as though he’s never prayed faster that the cashier didn’t see his silly mistake.
A soft jingle sounds as he steps inside, a comfortable warmth washing over him immediately. The twinge of vanilla is distinct between the mix of grease and coffee that occupy the cafe.
Feigning confidence, Kyubin approaches the counter, watching the cashier push away a fan that obstructed his face, stray pieces of hair slightly sticking to the his temples.
Kyubin opens his mouth to speak, yet he feels like he’s in a dumb rom-com when his breath genuinely catches in his throat, eyes finally meeting the others.
The cashier stares back, and Kyubin swears he imagines the blonds ears turn pink as his eyes glance over his features. He knows he’s mirroring the motion.
Clearing his throat, the cashier speaks first,
"Good evening” is all he’s able to get out before his silky voice cracks, and his hands fly to cover his mouth.
Kyubin can’t help the raw chuckle that escapes his throat, one that comes deep from the chest, and his heart overflows with endearment.
A bright flush now coats the cashier's cheeks as he swipes a finger over his bottom lip, and Kyubin has the urge to mirror his motion.
Instead, he points at the menu before stiffly turning away, pace awkwardly fast as he takes a seat at the farthest available table.
He curses himself as soon as his ass hits the chair, internally groaning as he grasps his hair, face now smushed against his palms.
It’s fine, he reassures himself. The cashier will come to bring him his order, and then he’ll ask him his name, maybe even his number, perhaps compliment his mesmerizing eyes.
Kyubin nods to himself, and with newfound determination, mentally prepares himself for the way he will handle this.
His confidence falls apart just as quickly as he’d built it when he feels someone staring at him, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s gaze is so intensely set on him.
Kyubin feels his skin burn under the shameless stare, yet can’t bring himself to return it. What possible reason does the cashier have to be looking at him so intently?! Was there a stain on his suit? Perhaps he’d messed up his hair into a bird's nest in the midst of his dilemmas?
His hands smooth over his (probably) unruly mane as he finally lets his eyes look towards the counter, and yet the cashier is nowhere in sight. Curiosity almost gets the best of him, yet his nerves keep him seated, yelling at him to take it slow, or else he’ll scare the other away.
Agreeing with his smarter counterpart, Kyubin crosses his legs (for good measure), hands now neatly folding in his lap. He waits patiently for the blond to bring his food out, stare glued to the window so to not be glancing at the counter every two seconds.
Footsteps finally move towards him, and his eyes dart from the window a tad quicker than he would’ve liked, immediately falling atop the cashier. He pauses next to Kyubin, placing the tray with food atop the table while serving his best customer-service smile.
It’s nothing like the one he wears when he’s dancing, or mopping, or opening his mouth in front of the fan. Kyubin politely returns it, lips taut, not reaching his eyes in the slightest.
The cashier drifts around for a bit, walks over to wipe down a table next to Kyubins, checks on some loose wire that seemingly doesn’t connect to anything.
It gives Kyubin time to think, to mull over his words as tension builds, to open his mouth for the seventh time at the last minute before shutting it tight once more.
His fries had never tasted so salty before.
He’s disappointed, he realizes, when he’s halfway out the door. And it’s not that he’s just realized he’s disappointed, no, he’s been disappointed ever since he sat down at the table, yet he comes to realize what exactly he’s disappointed in;
Himself.
-
A dreading two days pass, dragging by so incredibly slow that Kyubin feels as though it’s been eight. He rushes past the cafe in the morning, missing his alarm both days thanks to his late night lecture plan writing sessions. He’s too tired and jumbled up on his way back from work to even think of approaching the cashier, imagining how the interaction would go and grimacing from even the thought.
This morning, however, he wakes up hours before his alarm, strangely energized and looking forward to the rest of the day. He sings a tune as he brews his coffee, shuffles his feet while he waits for the stove to heat up, making himself a proper breakfast before work for once. He performs an encore due to the crowds (which consists of his goldfish) roaring demands, giving himself a round of applause before settling down for his meal.
Kyubin practically skips to work, the breeze that traces his exposed forearms a perfect cool in contrast to his snug vest. The blooming Cosmos tickle his nose just right as he inhales deeply, savoring the sweet scent so it can seep through his system, warming his insides.
The work day seems to go by incredibly fast. His students don’t act up, at least not that he notices, and he’s spared the misfortune of interacting with his least favorite coworker.
He doesn’t notice the doodles he leaves on his work papers while his students take a test until another professor points them out, giggling at his childishness as he bashfully puts them away. He’s not sure why he’s doodling sparkling waves blowing in the breeze of a fan, and he’s not sure he wants to dwell on it either.
The pep in his step doesn’t falter as he makes his way home, head spinning as his heart stutters with glee. Kyubin’s nerves buzz lightly as he thinks of entering the cafe, smoothly introducing himself in a way that would force the cashier to chuckle, the smile he wears when he’s alone unconsciously snuggling his lips.
He's approaching the cafe when the soft music that seemed to accompany him throughout the day (in his mind, of course) halts, and he’s sure his facial expression is absolutely hilarious to anyone passing by due to how low his jaw drops.
Now, Kyubin was never known to be a jealous man. It was something that upset all of his girlfriends, made them complain about him “not caring enough”, constantly hanging around other men to make him jealous.
He never understood it. Why be jealous when he knows they’re dating him? He wasn’t sure what they wanted, did they expect him to give them a phone with only his number in it? It was incredibly silly, and Kyubin was always bemused when a woman would leave him for this specific reason.
Therefore, Kyubin knew he wasn’t a jealous man.
So he's not sure what it is that makes his nerves freeze over as he watches the cashier giggle, hand rushing to cover his toothy grin as someone stands before him, stature tall and strong and oddly familiar.
Kyubin’s not sure what’s gotten into him. Perhaps it’s all the energy he’s had today, or a strange spell put on him by those damn sweet flowers that grow near the cafe, but next thing he knows, he has one foot through the door, chest heaving.
The cashier’s laughs seize, and he clears his throat before shooing the person before him away. They step to the side, head now tilting towards Kyubin, and God if he’s never wanted the ground to swallow him more before.
“Professor Kyubin?” are the words that leave, now that Kyubin has seen his face, Junji’s mouth.
Junji, one of his students.
Junji, who somehow got the cashier to laugh and display his natural smile with what seemed like no effort.
Kyubin quickly wishes that a semi rams into the cafe, like that one scene in final destination.
“Good evening, Junji.” He hastily bows, watching as the other mirrors his action, singular brow raised high, a habit of his.
“What can I get you?” The cashier pipes in, and Kyubin remembers that, oh, that’s the whole reason he’s here.
Every smooth pick up like he had prepared evaporates, his mind drawing a blank just like it had last time. It seems the cashier has that effect on him.
He once again awkwardly points to something on the menu, shuffling towards the table he occupied last time.
When he’s seated, it dawns on him that he just rushed into a cafe because he was jealous.
Jealous of the fact that his student made the cashier who’s name he doesn’t even know laugh.
Kyubin wishes to bury his face into his hands and scream, he really does, however that would be very inappropriate and even more embarrassing than anything he’s done thus far (if that’s even possible.)
He's so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the chair before him screech until he sees Junji appear before him, eyes slightly wary as he takes a seat. Kyubin’s not sure what this is about, yet he stays quiet, giving his student a moment.
“I wanted to ask you about our most recent assignment,” He begins, and Kyubin is immediately in professor-mode, listening intently and nodding along to the problems Junji explains to him.
Soon enough, he’s elbow-deep in his briefcase, pulling out notes from their lecture and examples he had prepared. Perhaps those two days of non-stop lesson planning were about to pay off.
Neither of them notice when the cashier approaches, Kyubin’s order in hand, shoulders sagging as he notices that the table has not a single open spot on it, fully covered in cluttered papers.
“Sorry, where should I set this down?” He mumbles, and Kyubin almost suffers whiplash from how quickly his head swivels to face him.
He quietly clears his throat before uttering an apology, stacking a few papers atop one another to create a small space, enough to place the food down.
The blond practically dashes from their table, clearly awkward from having interrupted their chat. It makes Kyubin not-so-silently groan as he shoves a fry in his mouth, less salty than last time but still enough to make him worry about his cholesterol levels.
He can feel Junji’s eyes on him, observing and gentle as ever. It slightly unnerves him, how he seems to always know what’s going on, slowly putting the pieces together in his mind.
“Would you like a fry?” Kyubin offers, rattling the tray lightly as he watches the tiniest smile split across Junji’s lips. It’s enough to make him unconsciously mirror it, cheeks rounding as his heart warms.
Perhaps his interaction with the cashier was yet another doomed failure, yet making a student smile was enough of an achievement for him, no matter how small.
-
The sun has long set by the time Kyubin finishes helping Junji with his work, something the professor doesn’t notice until he glances towards the window, surprised by the darkness that looks back at him.
He checks his watch, 23:11 staring back, bright and blinking. It seems to catch Junji’s attention, who clicks his phone, brows slightly raising as he sees the numbers.
“I'm sorry professor Kyubin, I didn’t think it would take this long.” He mumbles, looking down at the hands that rest in his lap. It makes Kyubin frown; he genuinely enjoyed helping Junji, who was clearly hard-working and more than happy to listen to his rambles.
“Don’t even worry about it, Junji, I enjoyed helping you. Feel free to visit my room if you’re ever confused again." A smile accompanies his words, not his usual professor smile, one instead used for friends and stray cats on the street.
It seems comforting enough for Junji, who nods with a quick “thank you” before gathering his things, pushing his chair in and giving yet another quick nod.
While Kyubin gathers his own things, struggling to cram them back into his briefcase, shushed whispers echo through the cafe, ones that peak his interest. He looks up through his bangs, Discreet from his half bent-over position, and almost topples over when he’s met with the cashiers stare.
He’s quick to look away, brain immediately screaming at him “what are you, fifteen?!” as he continues aimlessly shoving papers into his case, resisting every urge he has to scream (it’s a reoccurring one, he notes.)
Junji’s soft voice rings through the air as he parts with the cashier, and Kyubin curses himself for not listening closer, perhaps catching what the cashier's name is. The bell chimes, door rattles shut, and Kyubin realizes that he’s once more alone with the cashier.
He quickly stands, realizing that he’s most likely kept him from closing the cafe, and attempts to think up a way to apologize without sounding like just a customer (even though he is just a customer; he simply wishes he was more.)
Kyubin’s eyes stay glued to the floor as he makes his way towards the door, squeezing shut for a couple of seconds as he works up the courage to speak. He reassures himself once more that he’s thirty (not fifteen), and that apologizing for keeping the cashier longer than he’s meant to (even though he’s not even sure if that’s the truth) is an absolute must.
He looks up, fist clenching painfully against the handle of his briefcase, and finds that the cashier seems nowhere in sight. Kyubin realizes that he’s most likely in the back, and his foot hovers as he considers approaching the counter, yet it’s quick to swivel back towards the door.
With a bittersweet taste in his mouth, he pushes it open, surface stingy against his sweaty palm.
This time, he doesn’t linger; it seems today it isn’t meant to be.
-
A loud sigh that disturbs the couple walking beside him leaves Kyubins chest as he makes his way home, tie halfway undone as he swings his briefcase a little too aggressively (it’s fun, what can he say.)
His mood has been somewhat rocky today, yet his work day ended on a good note, therefore he hums a tune as he walks. Grading essays when only about eight people actually watched the material he had assigned, and the rest bullshitted their way through was… something, nothing new, but nevertheless surprising.
At lunch, however, when he’s usually visited by a singular student who hangs out with him due to unfortunate circumstances, he’s instead greeted by a delicious homemade meal. The laughter that bursts from his students lips as he watches Kyubin’s eyes widen while he practically salivates at the food was enough to boost his mood by a thousand, making all those horrific papers completely forgotten.
And so, with a pleasant grin plastered to his face, he practically hops up the steps to the cafe, pulling open the handle with more excitement than necessary.
The cashier, who’s contorted over some textbook below the counter, doesn’t seem to notice the ding that echoes across the cafe.
Kyubin stares at the patch of blond that faces him, surprised at how not a single dark root seems to be visible. He must really take care of his hair.
A gust of wind blows inside, and Kyubin realizes that he’d forgotten to let go of the handle, standing dumbfounded by the door while keeping it wide open. It's enough to make the blond look up, eyes going from barely open yet focused to surprised and shy as he slams the textbook shut.
An awkward wave is what Kyubin’s hand appears to think is an appropriate gesture in this situation, one that is quickly mirrored by the cashier before he tucks a strand behind his ear. It's incredibly endearing, Kyubin thinks, and the urge to do it on the other side himself is quite strong. Not as strong as his sense of “you don’t even know this guy's name” though (thankfully, he’s not that delusional… yet.)
He approaches the counter swiftly, eyes looking over the menu before pointing at a milkshake. He’s not sure what it is with him and pointing at things on the menu (actually, he knows it’s because he’s afraid his voice will crack if he speaks…), however it’s a habit he’s quickly grown into.
The cashier gives a nod, and Kyubin’s about to go to his regular seat before his eyes catch on the textbook that’s put off to the side. It's a textbook a little too similar to the one he uses in his class, and it takes everything in him not to go slack-jawed at the observation.
The cashier seems to catch on to the fact that something is clearly not right, tilting his head to the side before asking
“Is everything alright?”
Taking a moment, Kyubin clears his throat before speaking, praying to everyone out there that he doesn’t embarrass himself right here and now.
“Sorry, it’s just that I teach film history at a college, and that’s actually the textbook I use; just a little surprised to see it here!"
He gets out without taking a single breath, the cashier clearly holding in a laugh from how quickly he just said those sentences.
He then seems to process the information, flush creeping up his ears as his fingers run over the giant letters splayed on the cover.
“I know th- I mean, I borrowed it from a… someone. Who's studying this.” He stutters out, his other hand gripping Kyubin’s receipt a little too tightly.
“Are you also in school?” The question leaves Kyubin’s mouth before he can stop it, his curiosity overwhelming any other functional neurons in his brain that would’ve stopped the personal question from ever even conjuring in his brain.
The cashier's hands shoot up almost immediately, wiggling side to side as he shakes his head. Kyubin’s eyes follow the motion of his waves as they judder.
“Oh, no, I'm all done with school! I was just... Curious about film history?” He seems unsure of the statement as it leaves his mouth, however nods his head regardless, as if trying to convince himself it’s the reason he’s reading the textbook. Kyubin just chuckles, anything to calm his sweating palms and beating heart from acknowledging the fact that holy shit I'm actually talking to the cashier casually-
A soft chime sounds through the cafe the second Kyubin opens his mouth to ask the most important question of all, bouncing off the walls and ringing mockingly in his ears as he watches a construction worker enter. His lip slips between his teeth as he gives the blond a curt nod, dragging his feet to the back table, heart still hammering in his ears.
He takes a deep breath, slumping in his chair in the process. He's an adult acting as if he’s back in highschool, pining over some upperclassmen that’ll never even spare him a glance. It drives him crazy, the way his hands begin to involuntarily tremble as his stomach bursts with butterflies whenever he’s near the cafe.
And yet part of him craves the feeling, the way the rhythm of his heart feels freeing, a breath of fresh air whenever his nerves buzz with excitement at the sight of the blond. Sure, he may turn into an awkward mess and overthink the shit out of every detail, yet it’s a fun thought, one he enjoys dwelling on. Kyubin enjoys collecting random pebbles he finds on the college grounds, saving the ones he thinks the cashier would like, or remembering a joke a student says that he thinks might make him burst into a fit of giggles.
He's unconsciously smiling at his thoughts as the blond approaches, a milkshake that looks like it’ll give him diabetes after one sip almost spilling over in his hands. He places it down quickly, hands immediately wiping away the moist residue of the glass on his pants.
“Thank you” Kyubin is quick to mumble, smile unwavering as he glances up at the cashier, who blinks at him owlishly before nodding and dashing away. He seems to do that quite often.
One sip of the milkshake tells Kyubin that he won’t be getting a wink of sleep if he drinks it, the overwhelming amount of sugar causing his saliva to stick. It’s oddly tasty, despite the atrocious sugary aftertaste that feels like swallowing raw honey.
He sips it casually, fingers tapping the table occasionally as he reads some book he saw a student reading, a horrible hobby of his. It’s one he can’t drop, despite the fact that most of the books college students are reading are… Appalling, to say the least.
As of now, he’s reading some trashy romance drama about coworkers, the writing style making him want to rip his eyes out every three paragraphs. Kyubin’s committed to his little pastime, however, so he’ll push through the suffering to the end, and then complain about it endlessly to his poor best friend, who has to listen to this every time he finishes another scarring book.
After yet another argument between the main couple over some stupid misunderstanding that makes Kyubin want to throw the novel into the trash and set it on fire, he hastily shuts the book and shoves it back into his briefcase, deciding to enjoy the scenery instead.
His gaze falls right outside the window, where a patch of blond stares back at him. Intrigued, Kyubin leans over, now seeing that the cashier is bent over a flower bed, watering it gently. It’s a simple gesture, really, however it’s so intriguing (for reasons Kyubin very well knows yet refuses to voice aloud) that his eyes remain fixed, body rigid as he focuses solely on what the blond is doing.
And yeah, that was probably a mistake on his part, as he should’ve expected that the cashier would soon stand up from his hunched over position and would immediately meet Kyubin’s stare, who just so happens to be sipping on that monstrosity of a milkshake.
So it’s not really a shocker when Kyubin ends up choking on that sugary disaster, hands rushing to cover his mouth as he turns away from the window. He knows his face is flushed, and he’s well aware that it’s from both his immense embarrassment and the fact that he’s about to cough up a lung (or two).
After receiving a very confused yet concerned stare from the construction worker, he turns back to the window, noting the way the cashier's shoulders slightly vibrate as he dips a rag into a bucket, back facing Kyubin.
Glad that the cashier has taken mercy on him and isn’t blatantly laughing in his face, Kyubin turns his attention back to the flowers the cashier was previously watering. His eyes fall on those damn Cosmos that always tickle his nose whenever he’s nearby, now a smell he associates with the cafe (not that he minds), and their magenta pink screams at him.
It’s a color that would look good in the cashier's hair, he thinks, eyes searching for said cashier, who’s now wiping the window a bit ahead of Kyubin.
He doesn't even try to hide his shameless stare, eyes fixed on the cashier's ear as he imagines the contrast between the flower and his blond, his gleaming eyes paired with a bright smile as he gorgeously sits behind the counter.
Kyubin’s eyes meet the cashiers, who’s been wiping the same spot for what seems like a while, and, for once, the blond is the first to look away.
Maybe he’s been consuming too many of those cheap fantasy books his students are reading, because he can practically hear a ping sound in his head as a new mission appears before him; get a Cosmo into the cashier's hair.
And so he does.
Which is why, after barely getting through his work day without appearing on the news for setting the university on fire, he finds himself briskly approaching the flower beds that sit in front of the cafe.
Now, is this legal? Probably not. Is it morally grey? Most likely. Yes, he may be stealing the cashier's flowers, however he’s going to be promptly gifting them back to him, so how bad is it really?
Not bad enough apparently, because he’s almost elbow deep in dirt (he really didn’t have to dig that deep, they’re surface level) when the jingle of the door, followed by a surprised gasp, forces him to practically decapitate himself as he snaps his head towards the sound.
There he sees the cashier, eyes blown wide as he holds onto the door, going through seemingly all five stages of grief in approximately three seconds before settling into an offended expression.
He stands dramatically, hands square on his hips as he stares Kyubin down. The blonds eyebrows are weaved together in an accusatory way, yet the professor can only find it incredibly endearing.
“My favorite regular stealing from my flower bed?!?” He exclaims, hand now placed on his heart as he feigns heartbreak.
For the sake of Kyubin’s mental health, he ignores the “favorite regular” part, and decides to think about it later, when he’s alone in his room and hugging a pillow to his chest as he screams into another one.
So, he instead decides to stare, and this is exactly how a stare down begins.
From the perspective of anybody passing by, this probably looks incredibly silly; a man in a suit with his arms stuck in a flower bed, and a cashier who stands dramatically, the two intensely staring at one another.
For them though, this is very, very serious.
That's exactly why their stare off lasts approximately seven seconds before Kyubin’s eyes squeeze shut, and he looks away as he waves a dirty hand at the cashier.
Bubbling laughter fills his ears, a symphony of pure joy and elation that fills him to the brim with warmth, as if he’s just dipped his toes into the lukewarm ocean water. It laps over him, waves ebbing at loose grains of sands, and Kyubin decides right then that this is his favorite sound.
His face is still turned away from the cashier, hands now rushing to pick one of the flowers. Despite being so deep into the dirt, he’s yet to actually grab one (he got a little nervous).
After finally grabbing the brightest blooming one, he sets it down for a moment before wiping his hands on his pants, reminding himself once more that he’s thirty and charming.
With a deep breath, he turns back to the cashier, and is embarrassingly taken aback when he realizes that the other has approached him, hands on his knees as he bends over. He looks over Kyubin as if he’s a little ant on the ground, and it makes him feel so small that he almost cowers away.
Until he notes the curl of the blond’s lips, and the way his hair lightly blows in the wind, waves rolling over languidly. The cashier moves to stand, and Kyubin mirrors him, the two now face to face as the flower trembles in the professor's hand.
“Well? Why were you robbing my flower beds?” The cashier questions once more, his tone still in mock accusation, however now much sweeter with the smile that accompanies his question (or maybe Kyubin really is delusional).
With a clear of the throat, Kyubin holds up the flower, presenting it to the other as if it were some ancient relic and didn’t come straight from his own mini garden.
“I… Thought it would look good in your hair.” Pleasantly surprised that he was able to get that out, Kyubin allows a questioning smile to slip atop his lips, one asking for permission.
The cashier quirks a brow, eyes glossed with surprise as his hands fold together before him, and Kyubin takes this as a green light.
Cautiously, he takes a step forward, breath caught in his throat as he tries his best not to embarrass himself. His fingertips brush over the blond ripples, and he can hear himself swallow as he tucks the flower behind the cashier's ear.
He’s quick to step back, head slightly spinning from the sweet vanilla that had just enveloped him, and takes in the sight before him.
The cashier stands, unwavering, cheeks puffed out slightly as he seemingly holds his breath; Kyubin knows he was just like that as well.
The bright pink looks like a perfect paint spill next to the radiating blond, with the color of the cashier's lips matching it almost perfectly, and Kyubin shortly wonders if his lips would leave the same stains the Cosmos did on his palms.
The cashier finally takes a breath, turning to the windows beside them to look at his reflection. He observes it carefully, hand brushing over the petals gently as a fond smile slowly paints atop his lips.
He turns back to face Kyubin, taking a step towards him as he slightly teeters into his space, and the world around them seems to melt away as the only thing in the professor's field of view becomes the blond.
His pointer finger suddenly jams against his own chest, and Kyubin’s eyes follow the motion before making contact with the blonds again, who now holds a glint in his eyes that makes Kyubin realize that he’s fallen very deep, very fast.
“Yoojung.” He says slowly, grin widening as he watches Kyubin process his words.
The door jingles, and the cashier turns around to see a customer enter. With one last glance, he throws a wink over his shoulder as he rushes inside, hopping behind the counter to take the customer's order.
Yoojung.
Kyubin says it out loud, rolling it on his tongue as he savors it. He tests the way his lips pucker together as he pronounces it, tongue presses against the roof of his mouth as he repeats it again. He whispers it once more as he begins to walk away, as if it were his own little secret, something nobody but him knew.
The beautiful man's name is Yoojung.