Chapter Text
To say a Korean man landing a teaching position in Manila is not exactly strange but for said Korean man to teach English in an otherwise Chinese school in Manila would not be too surprising if it were to garner raised brows of curiosities, perhaps even skepticism even if the slightest.
To be fair, it was not exactly at the top of Wonwoo’s list to try his luck abroad. He has been teaching English for more than two years at this point with ‘English’ being a lazy way to replace Classic and Contemporary Literature in a university. He won’t even dare consider saying it was because of luck that had him biting this offer in the first place!
It was not the chance to experience an entirely new world that pretty much motivated him- he does not get too enthused with the new, nor the promise of a better pay that was not too far out from the one he was earning as an instructor. It was not even out of some life-defining reason like finding true love.
Wonwoo’s decision to fly to the Philippines was simple enough.
What appeared and happened to be not too simple for him was the way his life turned upside-down in almost a blink of an eye; from being an instructor to a well-known university, to becoming all of a sudden, a fifth-grade English teacher!
The language barrier was torture as it was but teaching children- literal children was something else that even Wonwoo himself, could not describe.
“You’ll get the hang of it soon enough.” was Junhui, one of Wonwoo’s colleagues, mentioned and many times over too in hopes of offering some kind of reprieve.
It was not helpful but gratitude was credited to where it was due.
“Easy for you to say.” said Wonwoo back, groaning in defeat as he did and true enough because unlike Wonwoo who is again, Korean teaching English in a Chinese school, Junhui is Chinese teaching Mandarin in a Chinese school.
See the difference there?
Yeah…
“At least your Filipino is getting better.” was another man’s comment, again, to lift one Korean man’s spirit but again, to no avail because to it was Wonwoo’s reply “I just had my head wrapped around the honorifics. That’s not exactly what I’d call as “getting better”.”
It was Junhui’s turn to add his thoughts with “I was like that before, you know? Not just in Filipino but English too, and now here we are.”
“I’d let Gguk worry about Filipino. If I need help, well, nothing my nephew can’t help me with.” was Wonwoo’s reason, earning him some chuckles of amusement from both Chinese teachers.
“Right, and what if Gguk needs help too?” and it was a rebuttal Wonwoo knew he was too tired to entertain, and so only replied “Then that’s for his tutor to worry about.”
There was laughter, louder this time, and even some dismissive comments of Wonwoo’s disposition, none of which was meant to offend as none did he take as such. After all, both Junhui and Minghao had been good friends to Wonwoo and in turn, to his nephew.
Every day would Wonwoo wait for Jeongguk and every day would they return home, side-by-side, living under one roof in one apartment with Jeongguk under Wonwoo’s keen supervision although most days, it would mostly just be Wonwoo at home when his nephew would either be in tutor classes or in his taekwondo trainings. The peace and quiet allows Wonwoo to work on things he needs to because being a teacher is more than just teaching and checking papers.
There are tons to do since teaching, as it was said before, is perhaps the only kind of work that would make you work before you actually, and then work again after getting home- a fact whether one is a fifth-grade teacher or an instructor.
There were days however, when Jeongguk would be permitted by his usually busy schedule to come home early, much to Wonwoo’s delight and one that would earn the teenager some kind of treat courtesy of his uncle that felt more like an older brother to him. Wonwoo is not one to complain about it.
“Wonwoo-hyung…” Jeongguk started as he walked along the pavement, his uncle’s bag slung over his shoulder while his own and far larger one was carried by Wonwoo himself, dragging his nephew’s carry-on.
Wonwoo hummed in response.
“...Hyung, I think the new cafe opens tomorrow.” continued the teenager and Wonwoo knew instantly what Jeongguk meant by this, where he was going with the kind of conversation he started.
“The one next to the flower shop?” Wonwoo asked in return.
As far as he could recall, the only establishment about to open up soon would be this coffee shop he still can’t remember to be what. All his memory could help him with was that it was a couple of blocks from the station he and Jeongguk get on and off the train, and one that was next to the popular flower shop and that, Wonwoo could remember rather well…
…Who could forget about it anyway, with its huge sign and a cartoon of a man who was deliberately drawn to be giving a thumbs-up and the stupidest smile?
Its name was Gyu-Mamela¹ or something of the manner but Wonwoo couldn’t exactly put his finger on why it was called that. All he could suspect was it was meant to be witty.
“Yeah! That one, hyung!” and Jeongguk sounded too happy about it. “It opens tomorrow and I wanna see it.”
Bingo! as Wonwoo thought, triumphant yet again of knowing what Jeongguk meant with bringing the topic up.
They had already found their stop and were already on their way back to the house. The Sun had set a couple of hours ago and with the rush hour already passing by, the streets were practically empty but not because of the hour but the possibility of a good night the city offered as Wonwoo believed; Friday would always be tempting anyway.
Wonwoo on the other hand, would rather spend his Friday night cooped up in his room either catching up with his friends back in Seoul through the onscreen violence of a shared computer game, or just reading a book until sleep gets the best of him. Jeongguk would most likely pass out from exhaustion sooner than he would like himself, and Wonwoo didn’t mind that one bit. His nephew is a teenager and most his age would rebel in any way they could, even in the chance of resting as they would often mistake it as some kind of punishment.
If there were punishments and Jeongguk doesn’t often get them, not from his uncle, there were rewards too and knowing this for certain was what drove Jeongguk to take his chances with his uncle as they drew nearer to the mentioned establishment soon to open.
Jeongguk continued with his endeavor.
“Hyung, come on! Please?” he reasoned. “I’ll clean my room- no! I’ll clean your room!” and Wonwoo only laughed at his nephew’s offer.
“D’you remember the last time you tried to actually clean anything?” Wonwoo reasoned back.
Images of the very first and last time Jeongguk attempted to clean in favor of a reward were as vivid as if the incident was only yesterday; of the vacuum cleaner that God knew what and how, literally exploding. Luckily, Jeongguk was not harmed but he was, along with the entire living area, covered in a week’s worth of dust and whatever else was in there Jeongguk thought of breathing back to the room. Needless to say that his uncle did not approve of him helping with the cleaning since then.
Another time Jeongguk did was with the dishes…
…Dishes, bowls, chopsticks, knives…
…You get the picture.
Stitches were not required and Jeongguk reassured his uncle that it was not that painful even through the tears he willed so strongly back to his eyes. Jeongguk’s parents were not too happy to hear of it however.
Embarrassed of the reminder did Jeongguk bow his head, scratching his nape in the process. “Yeah…” he muttered.
“Then how do you plan on convincing me to take you there then?” Wonwoo asked and as he did, beckoned his head toward the establishment in question which was just across the street and indeed, next to the flower shop.
“And that is if I take you there.” he added.
Jeongguk’s reply was not what Wonwoo asked. It was not even another tactic in persuading him to give in to Jeongguk’s request. Rather, it was the teenager reading the unlit signage just above the door of the cafe.
“Cafe Moreno² …” read Jeongguk. “...Hyung, it means someone with tan skin in Filipino- moreno . I learned it in our Social Studies class.” he added.
Wonwoo could only shrug at the fact.
“They always come up with something edgy or smart but it ends up tacky.” he commented, shaking his head disapprovingly.
Turning back to his nephew, Wonwoo resigned not only to his exhaustion and hunger but at the drag of this conversation he knew he would eventually lose to Jeongguk, and said “If I get half of the papers tomorrow before noon then sure, we can.”
The cheer was only as excited as the jumping as Jeongguk expressed his delight without much regard for his own safety. It was Wonwoo who had to remind him. That, and the warning of not going if Jeongguk were not to behave.
“You’re the best hyung ever!!” Jeongguk declared more to the world about and than Wonwoo walking behind him.
“I’m your uncle.” the older man corrected but with a small smile on his face.
* * * * *
For a new establishment, the coffee shop was already packed an hour before lunchtime, mostly by young female patrons Wonwoo observed to be somewhat overdressed for an otherwise local coffee shop, taking way too many selfies too.
The flower shop next door, or Gyu-mamela as usual, had called it a day. Ever since its opening, there was not a day it did not sold a flower- there hasn’t been a day it had so much as a stem of a flower left unsold with the shop’s store always running out, day after another, making Wonwoo wonder the number of lovers Manila had to actually sweep a flower shop empty regularly. He also thought perhaps, that Gyu-mamela was the only one within a certain vicinity or the ono who offered the lowest price- all of which could be a valid reason behind its success.
Wonwoo just never bothered himself of even trying to take a peek and finally satisfy his curiosity. The line of people every morning did not help either. The same could not be said with the new cafe his nephew dragged him into.
“Remember, no coffee for you.” Wonwoo reminded his young nephew; his English still rough around the edges compared to Jeongguk which sounded a little more natural than his.
“What if they don’t have anything else?” was Jeongguk’s question. Wonwoo did not hesitate to reply “Then decaf.” which was not too bad of an alternative as far as Jeongguk was concerned who only nodded back, agreeing to his uncle’s offer.
The scent of brewed coffee is heavy in the conditioned air, giving further caffeinated atmosphere to the establishment of beige walls, large glass windows, and brown lacquered chairs and round tables. The lights were dimmed from the overhead lamps but most that lit the entire vast room came from natural sunlight breathing into the shop. There was faint music to dull the chatter of patrons filling the establishment full, enjoying not only drinks but treats too, and Wonwoo noticed how the shop offered more than just coffee-based beverages.
The number of customers could not be mistaken both from those seated outside and even more from those inside, not that it made any difference in deterring Wonwoo’s plan to just have everything he and his nephew would get, to go. The long almost unmoving line alone was enough to strengthen Wonwoo’s resolve to return home as soon as he could.
Always the younger and the more impatient one of the two, Jeongguk grumbled not too long in the wait, commenting of his uncle’s so-called disability.
“I’m not blind.” Wonwoo countered.
“But don’t you have that PWD thing?” Jeongguk continued, either oblivious of Wonwoo’s glare through his prescription lenses or was deliberately ignoring it. Either way, it did catch attention or to be more specifically, by one of the baristas at the counter, calling to their direction with a loud “Are you a PWD, sir? We have a priority lane here.” and for good measures in any case he thought Wonwoo didn’t hear him too because you know, he is qualified for the priority lane which practically makes him invalid, gestured at the available lane empty of any customers.
Waving his hands as he hoped not to abuse his disability, Wonwoo tried to dissuade the barista from giving him a privilege not exactly deserved. He was flustered enough by his nephew’s blatant sharing of his poor eyesight to strangers around, more so of the attention it received from the otherwise kind server already waiting for Wonwoo and Jeongguk.
If it were up to Wonwoo, he would’ve declined politely but no. It was not entirely up to him because while he chose not to milk this chance, Jeongguk did not as he made his way to the front, grinning smugly as he did.
The urge to strangle someone had never been stronger but considering Wonwoo was in a public place, a teacher even, and worse, Jeongguk’s uncle, somehow choking his nephew to common sense was not a good idea. Instead, he chose the path of kindness or rather, the priority lane.
“Hi, I’m Jay! Ano sa inyo ?” greeted the barista, a man of relative height and build. He wasn’t exactly muscular but not chubby either- teetering to a more stocky, heavier physique that made his round face all the more, well, cute. The smile he, well, Jay was wearing surely did him justice.
Looking back at his uncle, Jeongguk translated the barista’s introduction. “He said his name is Jay, and he wants to know what we want.”
In truth, Wonwoo had no idea what to get. It wasn’t because of a failure to see the overboard menu- he has glasses and they work well as far as Wonwoo could tell.
Do not get him wrong!
Merely, it was because of the lack of interest to get an overpriced drink and maybe even a pastry that he would surely regret later in the day. The only reason he found himself there to begin with was because of Jeongguk’s request. Wonwoo is not exactly heartless to deny his nephew some kind of happiness.
Cafe Moreno offered more than just coffee. They also offered tea, milk tea, juices, and a variety of cakes and other pasties too. Wonwoo even noticed some rice meals for those who prefer to eat heavier food there and while there were beverages suited for younger customers, Wonwoo eyed the matcha latte most; the image alone was appetizing enough and the promise of the description for it to be made of real matcha was what bought Wonwoo.
He was just about to inform his barista of his chosen drink when another voice, the barista next to Jay attending those unfortunate enough to not be qualified for the priority lane and great- now Wonwoo was milking this too, asked for his attention.
They spoke in Filipino that Wonwoo could not catch but whatever it was, required Jay to leave the counter and in turn, his customers. Wonwoo only hoped it was something urgent.
“They have chocolate-banana smoothie. Can I have that?” Jeongguk asked for his uncle’s permission and one he immediately received with a nod. “The tallest one! And a fudge cake too!” he added and again, earned him a nod from Wonwoo.
“Oooh! How about churros too, hyung? I thi-”
“Don’t push it.” Wonwoo quickly reminded him.
Perhaps it was about time for Wonwoo to admit his eyes were past their prime when even his peripherals failed him to catch the man who took Jay’s position while he was busy looking at his nephew.
“Hi, sorry for keeping you waiting. I’m Migs.” this new barista introduced in English but halfway along did he decide to speak in Filipino. “ Naka-order na kayo³ ?”
It was hard enough for Wonwoo to understand half of what Migs said but upon returning his gaze upward, somehow even breathing itself seemed to be too difficult for Wonwoo. Or even thinking or basically anything else that mattered except for the man in front of him.
To describe this Migs fellow would probably be like describing the entire universe itself, in a single sentence, and even that would be an understatement.
Not once had the eyes been the window to anyone’s soul no matter how often it was said by people all around, or at least not for Wonwoo and not for his generic Asian eyes that most often had been considered as more of feline-like than anything else. However, the pair of eyes that looked back at him was not only giving him all the access he would need to peer into what was basically being offered to him so freely but so much more- an unknown depth that all Wonwoo can assume to be warm and inviting and somehow, safe.
Migs’ eyes are bright as they are soft, in both their shape and the gaze they hold in such high hopes which as Wonwoo believes, is just unbelievable. How can someone look at another as if he’s the most prized customer in his supposedly newly-opened establishment because that is exactly what Migs is doing, waiting too, at Wonwoo and Jeongguk, making it look like he has all the time in the world in the process.
If ever there was a customer behind Wonwoo, he wouldn’t notice it and frankly, he wouldn’t plan on turning and risking losing the gaze Migs has on him.
He knows this to be somewhat concerning but the fact that Jeongguk was also forgotten to be there with him is sure enough a dead giveaway how distracted Wonwoo was, lost in the barista’s eyes and his welcoming toothy smile, dimpled and warm. HIs voice has that sweetest tilt in it that sounds as if it could pout in-between the words which really is the cutest thing. It also brings a rather odd sensation in stealing Wonwoo’s breath away all at the same time, the ability to feel his legs because it could only be that or his sugar level is dropping to an all-time low in a matter of seconds. His vision blurring slightly in the process and for his mind to click to a sudden unknown stop.
Warmth welled in his chest as his palms clam so badly he had to ball them to fists in hopes of repressing further dampening and yet, as this happens is Migs still standing across the counter, unfazed of his customer’s flustered reaction, well, lack of reaction that is, along with the faintest shade of red to creep up Wonwoo’s face.
A saving grace in the form of Jeongguk’s response was what plucked Wonwoo from this noontime trance as his nephew answers for the both of them with “Sorry, he does not speak Filipino very well.” and blinking in realization, the tall barista hummed in response.
“Oh…” Migs muttered. “...Then, have you decided what you’ll have for today?” he continued, now looking at Jeongguk and then to his uncle in search of some answer.
As usual, it is Jeongguk who gets to answer first. If ever he snuck his chocolate-covered churros in his order, Wonwoo couldn’t care less. All he was able to get is when Migs turns back to him with that breathtaking smile of his.
“And yours, sir?” the Barista asked. Wonwoo only blinked back at him.
“My uncle will have the tallest cup of matcha latte and a slice of that strawberry shortcake- no! He’ll have two slices!” came Jeongguk’s help ( if you call it that ).
Chuckling, Migs raises a brow at the teenager and yet, it was Wonwoo he was addressing when he enquired “Is that right, sir? You’ll have two?” and Wonwoo was quick albeit nonchalant to reply, saying in return “Yeah, sure-”
“Alrighty then! So we’ll have a grande choco-banana smoothie, a venti matcha latte, a slice of the triple choco fudge cake, two slices of strawberry shortcake…” and Migs made sure to put emphasis on the otherwise suspicious order made by an underage. “...and a plate of chocolate-covered churros!” he declared with the same happy tune of waking up with an actual good morning.
“Under what name should I put these again?” Migs adds.
Jeongguk then taps his uncle, asking “Hey, hyung? Should I give my name?”
Hearing that particular word suddenly sends Migs back, with his smile growing bigger than it was before, much to Wonwoo’s surprise considering it grew brighter too and all the more charming that all he could do in return is to sigh heavily in defeat because, yes, apparently, Migs could smile even better.
“Fine.” Wonwoo surrenders and Jeongguk couldn’t be happier to be using his name. Or rather, the name he came up with just then his uncle hasn't heard before.
“Wait, cookie-” was Wonwoo’s surprised reaction. In his nephew’s defense, his classmates call him that and he likes it better too, or so he says. Whatever the real reason is, Wonwoo just took note of finding out about it later with a little bit more privacy than what a prince charming-come to life can offer as he looms to them with only a counter in-between.
Shaking his head, Wonwoo sighs once again and surrenders. “Alright, just go find us some seats.” he instructs his nephew in which Jeongguk quickly does so, although Wonwoo can say it probably because Jeongguk is smelling trouble coming his way with this unsaid nickname his uncle only just found out.
In front of them, well, him at this point, is Migs tapping away on his screen but as he does, starts and says “I hope this doesn’t come out as rude. I don’t wanna stoop into anyone’s business but are you Korean?” and he looks up at Wonwoo.
Wonwoo nods. “Yeah…” he replies. “...Why? Do you like Korean dramas?” and that earned an actual loud hearty laugh from his barista and if his smile was warm enough, surely this laugh of his could bring world peace!
“What?” Wonwoo then followed, confused.
“Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to offend or anything.” Migs continued. His laughter slowly dying contrary to the grin that hasn’t once, lost its mirth. “It’s just I’m Korean myself. Gyeonggi-Do , born and bred!”
The way Migs spoke his hometown sent a thrill of nostalgia and in turn, a small although small from Wonwoo’s face.
“Seriously?!” Wonwoo couldn’t help himself to exclaim.
While the chances of stumbling into another Korean in the area may not be entirely impossible, it is not exactly too high either, let alone one who owns an establishment literally within a five-minute walking distance from your own home!
Somehow, Wonwoo finds this out of sheer dumb luck.
“Oh, yeah!” Migs nods in response. “The name’s Mingyu! Kim Mingyu, and it’s a pleasure meeting you.” and that last official introduction was spoken in Korean. One Wonwoo immediately responds with “It’s a pleasure meeting you too, Mingyu-ssi.”
Migs or in his Korean name, Mingyu quickly noticed, making him probe further then and asked back in English “I didn’t get your name though, sorry. You are…”
The wisest response would be to continue the sentence by providing what is being asked in which, Wonwoo’s name. Wonwoo could also play it a little playfully and respond with something witty too, one that would most definitely earn him another of that sweetest laughter Mingyu just made. It just so happened that Wonwoo, for some unknown reason, chose a third option as he goes with what could be the stupidest answer of all, and said “...Single.”, quick and almost monotonous in tone.
The tiled floor did not swallow Wonwoo up and so he thought of try seeing how sturdy the stone counter is by slamming his face as hard as he could right onto it, hoping that what just happened could be ignored or better yet, forgotten. But like him unknowingly opting for a third response, yet again was a third choice offered and one that was taken as Mingyu chuckles, now softer and by God, so silky-smooth to the ears too.
“Shame.” Mingyu comments. “A man like you? Single? What has the world gone into?” he added, chuckling still before making the last final transactions on his computer screen.
“So, Mr. Single, would you like to know how much everything is for today or would you care to give me your name because just between you and me, I can go with Cookie-hyung.” to which Wonwoo responded with an unamused fake laugh. It passed the message clearly enough.
“How do you say it in Filipino?” asked Wonwoo, the Korean accent heavy on his tongue but unlike him who found only distaste for failing to speak in English properly, the other and obviously taller man at the other side of the counter before him could say otherwise.
There was no hiding that amused toothy grin Wonwoo is not sure if patronizing.
“How much is everything?” Wonwoo continued and repeated it. This time, in Korean too.
“ Magkano lahat ‘yun⁴ ?” was the other man’s reply and the way he said it- how smooth the response was as it all rolled off his tongue, meant he’s been in the country for a while. The darker complexion proves that too and how well it is on Mingyu’s otherwise smooth unblemished skin.
Wonwoo’s attempt was not as graceful in parroting what the other said.
He did his best but it wasn’t good enough for him, or for his Korean barista who finds it amusing.
“Then try this…” then what grin the other man wore only grew in size before he offering a different phrase, and he said “... Kiss muna⁵ .”
Wonwoo may not be good in Filipino yet but he sure knows what those two words mean just as he knows when he’s being made a fool of.
If Mingyu finds this in any way funny, Wonwoo does not but he’s been in the Philippines long enough to understand a few things. He also knows how to answer to funny gestures like this by making a rather contorted expression of disgust and replying in a roughly spoken Filipino “ Mama mo, kiss⁶ !”
Thankfully, the small screen facing the customer’s side flashed the exact amount due and Wonwoo deliberately chose to pay for everything in CASH- bills and coins altogether, along with his discount card and a few mumbling comments of an otherwise poor customer service.
Mingyu did not seem to mind anything as he was far too delighted from counting the money slid across the counter, punching in the needed details for the discount, and even returning it with the extra change to Wonwoo.
“Sorry about that.” Mingyu adds after saying his thanks to Wonwoo but the man in glasses denied him the luxury of more interaction with just a nod before joining his nephew.
It’s not exactly a bad day for Wonwoo.
He wasn’t assaulted or in any way offended. As a matter of fact, it feels more like a breath of fresh air after quite some time now. What just does not sit well with him is the part where a man like Mingyu, Korean and by the grace and mercy of Mother Mary and Joseph, muscular one too when Wonwoo chances a glance back at the counter to see his earlier barista reaching for something from the overhead cupboard to see how the apron hugged his slender waist, funneled by broad muscled shoulders; the muscles in his arms coiling to the smallest of movements that almost had Wonwoo spitting his drink to Jeongguk- could have the audacity to flirt right back at him with confidence.
It is highly unlikely for a man like Mingyu to be single as Wonwoo thought. It just does.
The barista could most likely be married, or in a relationship with some pretty girl who practically worships him. If he were leaning to the same side and Wonwoo firmly believes this to be a lie but only a food for thought that kept him wondering even hours after the visit to Cafe Moreno, Mingyu would mostly be in a healthy relationship.
There will be no way for Mingyu to find Wonwoo interesting.
The small bundle of muffins sent to his and Jeongguk’s table was just a very big mistake. Jeongguk took it with open arms however, and a far wider open mouth. Wonwoo did not bite it though, as much as he took more than a couple of bites from the supposed ‘complimentary treats’ after going back home, away from Jeongguk’s inquisitive gaze when he knew his uncle to harbor distaste toward the coffee shop because of his claimed bad customer service.
“The food is good, don’t get me wrong here.” Wonwoo defends to his nephew but at the same time, thinks how one particular barista is by far, the best that establishment could offer. After all, he does not need to admit out loud or to anyone for that matter, what he considers is indeed delectable.
¹a wordplay of Mingyu and gumamela , otherwise known as hibiscus
²a darker complexion usually affiliated to male Filipinos; i.e. morena
³ Have you ordered? (rough translation)
⁴ How much is everything? (rough translation)
⁵ kiss first (rough translation); a playful, sometimes flirtatious retort exchange between friends or pairs of romantic relationships
⁶
your mama
(rough translation); a slight variation of a “
yo mama
” joke popular in the Philip