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It takes a twelve-minute walk (nine and a half, if he sprints), a six-minute jeep ride, and four train stops to get from Sungho’s to Jaehyun’s house.
It takes Jaehyun sending a curt text devoid of an onslaught of emojis and exclamation points (or not texting at all for days) for Sungho to haphazardly shove his house keys and wallet into his pockets, yell ‘I’ll be home tonight or tomorrow’ unminding of whoever in their family would be the one to catch it, and swing out of the heavy wooden door. Forgotten behind him are his unmade bed, his desk full of open notebooks and highlighters in disarray, and an abandoned movie paused to the -21:40 mark on his laptop’s screen.
The sun blisters his skin until it turns red and glistens with sweat as he walks his path of bustling sidewalks, teeming with playing children and street food stalls of kwek-kwek splattering in golden oil and sticks of pork being barbecued on metal grills. He dodges a stray basketball on his way, skitters to the side away from a fallen telephone pole, and weaves his way through motorcycles on the street once the sidewalk becomes too congested and cracked to walk on.
He knows exactly which pedestrian lanes are best to cross the intersection, the one that leads you to the less crowded sidewalks and the one that takes you to the corner where the jeep passes by. Sungho has taken this route to and fro enough times for it to become familiar, practiced. More often than not, however, it’s a path taken with four feet, instead of just two.
“Walking around here feels a bit Subway Surfers-esque, doesn’t it? The cop chasing you is the only thing missing.” Jaehyun would quip.
Part of their little ritual would be for Jaehyun to balance on the telephone pole like a tightrope walker. In one of Jaehyun’s hands is their shared flimsy plastic cup of vinegar-drenched tokneneng (their other shared cup of cold gulaman filled to the brim is in one of Sungho’s). They both know Jaehyun can balance well enough on his own, but their hands are joined together anyway. Often, Jaehyun gets too immersed in telling him about a chemistry assignment, humming a new song he heard on the radio, taking photos of orange cats, or rambling about a series he wants to watch with Sungho, that Sungho would have to pull him to the inner side of the sidewalk and maneuver him so he doesn’t trip on pavement.
He runs just in time to catch the jeep about to pass by. Loud music greets him immediately, rumbling under his feet as he climbs the steps and sits before the vehicle starts moving again. The synthetic leather he sits on is worn and ripped, the cotton fill peaking and barely held down by the remaining thread. The metal is cold when he counts the coins in his hand before passing them to the person beside him, an older man in his work uniform who passes them to a lady holding goods to sell, who passes them to the driver. Idly, he wonders what their lives are like, what the lives of the people who sat here when the synthetic leather wasn’t scratched yet. He wonders what places they need to reach, who they come home to, and if he’ll encounter them ever again. It’s a habit he picked up from Jaehyun, who’d make up stories for the nameless strangers passing by.
He looks out the narrow window to make sure he doesn’t miss his stop, the wind cold against his face. Once he spots the train station, he knocks his hand against the ceiling and the jeep comes to a stop.
It’s the evening rush hour by the time he gets to the train. It takes him making his way through the slender gaps between passengers to find a handlebar to hold on. The speakers announce the names of the stops, each of them Jaehyun has made a pun out of. Whenever the train slows down, the people inside sway in unison and some elbows dig into his side. Every time the train doors slide open, there are feet that stumble and step on his, some rushing out and some rushing in. He makes way for the strangers that leave and the strangers that come. Like him, they’re probably in a hurry to get home and find rest after a long day.
(Sungho isn’t quite going home to his family’s house, but he is going home. Right now, he’s rushing to be someone’s rest.)
By the time he’s in front of the green gate to Jaehyun’s house, the sun is sinking, painting the sky a purple and golden hue, and his shirt smells of the sun, smoke and dried-up sweat. He dials Jaehyun’s number, says ‘Hey, I’m outside’ when the line picks up and waits.
The gate door swings open, revealing Jaehyun, a mix of shock and pure relief in his eyes. Sungho can’t help but laugh fondly and think it’s all worth it when Jaehyun holds onto him tightly and breathes him in, sun, smoke, sweat, and all. He presses a light kiss to Jaehyun’s hair, whispers ‘Let’s go in now?’, laughs again when Jaehyun nods but doesn’t make any attempt to move or let go.
Inside, in the dining room, there’s another set of utensils and plates on the table and Jaehyun’s mom. There’s a knowing smile on her lips, like she had already known that Sungho will be there. Sungho helps her scoop bulalo soup into their heavy white bowls. Beside him, Jaehyun stirs heaping spoonfuls of brown sugar into a pitcher of calamansi juice, the ice clanking around in a steady rhythm.
Once the food is all ready, they settle comfortably into the brown wooden chairs around the table. Jaehyun’s dad talks to him about their university’s latest football match, congratulating Sungho for his team’s win. Jaehyun pours juice into Sungho’s cup, an orange mug with cat ears Jaehyun made for him on one of their pottery dates that had stayed in Jaehyun’s house ever since, and Sungho puts ensaladang talong to Jaehyun’s plate. From time to time, he places his hand on Jaehyun’s knee and Jaehyun intertwines his hand with his. Amidst spoons clattering against porcelain and all the talking, it’s their way of saying, I’m right here, without words
Later, he and Jaehyun will wash the dishes in tandem. Jaehyun rinses the plates free of soap and grease, and Sungho will take them to dry with a towel and place them into the cupboards. Later, before he trails after Jaehyun to his room, Jaehyun's brother hands him a spare towel and a chocolate bar, saying 'For you. Take care of him, okay?'. Sungho goes up the stairs and walks the hallway until he gets to Jaehyun's room. Inside, only a dim lamp is left on. He finds Jaehyun curled up in bed, a little sleepy but still patiently waiting. He sits on the edge of the bed, reaches out to brush Jaehyun's hair back, and breaks a piece of chocolate for Jaehyun to have, knowing Jaehyun ends every meal with something sweet.
Jaehyun points to some clothes he set aside for Sungho to change into, an unspoken understanding that Sungho will stay over. He gets up to change out of his musty clothes, holding the towel Jaehyun's brother lent him, but not before pressing a kiss to Jaehyun's forehead and a promise of I’ll be right back.