Work Text:
The moment Jay comes to face true beauty isn‘t grand, there‘s no dramatic revelation. Instead, it is calmness. A picture, perfectly integrated into its surroundings and yet seemingly unreachable.
Just a boy, sitting on a small stone wall next to a cafe, reading.
The wall’s tucked between the magnolia trees lining the river, away from the eyes of the people crossing the big bridge, unless one stops right at the edge, next to the first lamppost.
Around the boy, the life of the city buzzes, rushes. The cafe is full of people, talking, laughing, or sipping their morning coffees. The noise of the people is accompanied by the accordion of a street musician. Waiters walk between the tables, and a steady flow of people makes their way down the cobblestone stairs to the paved path, framing the river.
And right there, between it all, sits the boy, blonde hair falling into his face, sun kissing his skin. He‘s beautiful. He looks so soft, the fabric of his long sleeves curling in the cool morning breeze.
Jay is frozen in place, mesmerized. The scene in front of him looks like a painting. It‘s dynamic, yet its essence stays the same: The boy in the center, unbothered by everything around him. The place‘s energy seems to flow right through him.
Jay finds he can‘t look away.
So much so that the wrapped canvas tucked under his arm starts sliding. He rushes to grip it with his other hand, dropping the bag with his painting supplies.
People push against him, the tram around the corner must have arrived. He struggles to gather his things without the canvas touching the floor. As he stands up, he‘s taken by the current of people. His head whips around, eyes searching the wall next to the cafe, but the boy’s already hidden between the trees, vanished from his view.
He arrives at university five minutes before class begins. Sliding onto his seat in the last row, he places the canvas on the stand, hands a little shaky. He paints and paints. In the colors Jay sees the sun, the trees, a taste of freedom.
The next day, he rushes to get ready for university. The possibility of the other boy being there again has him on a high.
When he gets off the tram, he slows down, starting to feel just a little bit stupid. It‘s not that likely that the boy is there two days in a row.
Jay rounds the corner, eyes searching the wall immediately.
The boy‘s there.
Today he‘s wearing a denim jacket. It’s a little colder than yesterday. The boy’s book is on his lap, but he doesn’t look at it. He has his face turned to the sun, eyes closed, a smile on his lips.
Jay‘s heart picks up. He wonders if he should sit down for a coffee. It wouldn‘t even be that much out of the ordinary, since on Sundays he sometimes comes to the cafe to draw.
His usual place in the corner is still free.
Suddenly, a small white cat jumps onto the stone wall. The boy startles, eyes getting big as he sees the cat looking up at him. He carefully reaches out to pet it.
The cat leans into his hand, and the boy lets out a laugh, a soft, delighted thing.
Jay whips around, half sprinting across the bridge.
He can‘t do it.
At university, they continue on the canvas. On the right half of the painting, he adds a cat, balancing on a fence. Jay‘s brush comes back to it again and again. The cat feels out of place, not fitting the rest of the picture. He just can’t capture it the way he wants to.
He considers removing it.
At the end of class, he doesn‘t even realize people are packing until another student taps him on the shoulder.
Jay adds a few more strokes, more yellow, more orange. He signs the canvas and turns it in.
The cat stayed.
The boy is there every day when Jay walks past. The weekend has him on edge. He‘s never been so happy about a Monday before.
On Wednesday he leaves his house earlier than usual. He arrives at the bridge with his palms sweaty, his heart in his throat.
The boy is there.
It takes him two attempts to work up the courage to sit down at the table in the corner, digging his sketchbook out of his bag.
As he‘s drawing, he starts to calm down. He looks at the boy from time to time. He‘s so beautiful. The more he looks, the easier his pen moves across the drawing.
Jay loses track of time. His professor looks at him with a confused look as he scrambles in 20 minutes after class begins. He‘s never late.
After that, it sort of becomes a routine. Jay keeps getting a coffee in the mornings, sits down and draws, and the boy is always there.
The first time it eventually rains, Jay‘s nervous. The boy might not be there today. He plays with the hem of his jacket through the entire tram ride.
Arriving at the cafe, it takes him a moment to spot the boy. He sits at one of the tables with a piece of chocolate cake, still reading his book, protected from the rain by the cafe‘s big sun umbrellas.
His blonde hair is slightly wet at the front, and he’s wearing a yellow rain jacket that looks slightly too big on him. Another thing is new as well. He’s wearing glasses.
Jay melts. Then he panics. To get to his usual place, he needs to pass the boy.
He should probably try to talk to him, say something casual, start a conversation.
But what if the boy doesn‘t want to talk to him? What if he doesn‘t answer?
And what if he does?
He ends up leaving, feeling like an idiot for chickening out.
But what would he even say to him?
You calm me down. It makes me anxious to think that you might not be there the next day. I really want to know your name.
I think I might somehow be in love with you.
The next day the rain has stopped, but the boy is not there.
Jay waits until he‘s nearly late. The boy doesn’t come.
Neither is he there the day after that, or the day after, and Jay‘s restless, anxious. Did he miss his chance? Will he not come back?
On Friday Jay‘s sitting in his usual place again, sketchbook in front of him. On the page is a half-drawn cat, but Jay hasn‘t really been drawing for the past 20 minutes. He just stares out at the river, thoughts spiralling.
Suddenly someone stops in front of him. He smells a whiff of magnolia.
„Hey.“ The voice is soft, but Jay can hear the smile in it. „What are you drawing?“
Jay startles so much, he knocks his hand against the table.
The boy is standing in front of him. His head is slightly tilted to the side, eyes awake and open.
„O-oh hi.“ Jay stutters out, heat creeping onto his face. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears. „You‘re here. You weren‘t there the l-last…I mean…“ He coughs a little, panics.
God, he‘s an idiot.
„I was visiting friends“, the boy explains, „I was wondering if you would notice.“
Jay‘s breath hitches. „You saw me coming here?“, he asks awkwardly.
The boy‘s eyes sparkle. „Of course, yes. You keep coming here to draw. I‘ve…“
He pauses, laughs softly. „I‘ve been so curious about what you‘re always sketching. I thought about asking before, but you looked so focused and I wasn‘t sure if you would mind being approached.“
„Oh, you c-could have…uhm.“ Jay holds onto his sketchbook for dear life.
The boy smiles, carefully putting a hand on the chair on the other side of Jay’s table. He carefully watches Jay as if waiting for permission „Can I sit?“
Jay gives a tiny nod, eyes big.
The boy sits down, putting the coffee Jay hasn‘t realized he‘s been holding on the table in front of him. „Are you just drawing as a hobby or is it work-related?“
Jay‘s shoulders unclench slightly. „Both…I am an art student though. But yeah…I really love it.“
„I can tell.“ The boy smiles happily. He starts stirring the coffee, spoon digging through the dark liquid until nothing of the latte art is visible anymore. It had been the shape of a fern.
„But I don‘t want to keep you from drawing.“ The boy’s fingers play with the handle of his cup. „You‘ll keep going, I‘ll read, yeah?“
„Okay.“ Jay‘s hand is unsteady as he keeps drawing, but after some time his movements become surer, the sound of the other visitors wrapping around them.
Up close, Jay notices the boy‘s eyelashes are longer than he imagined. He‘s got cute dimples when he smiles.
Eventually he has to leave for university. He tells the boy as much.
As he gets up, he hesitates. „I-I‘ve been wanting to ask. What‘s your name?“
The boy‘s eyes widen. „I didn‘t notice I hadn‘t said it yet. I‘m Jungwon. What about you?“
„I‘m Jay.“
„Jay.“ Jungwon repeats it slowly, as if testing how it feels on his tongue. He rests his head on the palm of his hand. „Will I see you tomorrow, Jay?“
The beating of Jay‘s heart is so loud that he wonders if the other can hear it. „I will be there.“
„Then I‘ll be waiting for you.“
Blood rushing to his face, he leaves hurriedly. He risks a look back as he arrives at the edge of the bridge. Jungwon has started reading again, the breeze tugging at his hair. Jay forces his eyes away.
Oh, he can‘t believe that happened.
At university he nearly runs over a freshman with his giddy movements. If his seatmate notices his stupid smile, he doesn‘t mention it.
When he arrives at the cafe the next morning, Jungwon’s there, just as promised. He waves happily at Jay once he spots the other. Jay feels himself smiling in return.
They start meeting up daily. Sometimes they just sit, one drawing, the other reading, but they talk more and more. Jay finds that once he starts talking to the other, he can‘t seem to stop anymore. Jungwon‘s eyes are so open and curious.
Every time Jungwon laughs at something Jay says, he wants to keep talking until he gets to hear it again.
Jungwon has that very calm but still very expressive way of talking about things, in a way that makes Jay feel safe, but also leaves him wanting not to miss a single thing that is being said.
He learns that Jungwon moved from Korea a few years ago with his grandparents. That he works at their small restaurant in the afternoons and evenings. The restaurant is not far from the cafe, and Jay promises to visit sometime.
When Jay begins to come even earlier each morning, Jungwon‘s still there, already waiting and waving at him.
It’s a very warm morning, summer beginning to make itself known, when Jungwon lowers his eyes to the table, blonde hair falling to cover some of his face.
He suddenly speaks up. „You know…before I talked to you, I kept wondering if you’d draw me eventually.“ When he looks up again, his eyes carry a mischievous look.
Jay chokes on his coffee, ears turning red. „I thought about it. Well, I…would you like me to?“
„I‘ve seen your drawings. You have a very specific way of looking at things. I‘d love to know how you‘d draw me.“
„I don‘t think I‘d do you justice.“
„You‘ll know it after you’re done.“ Jungwon shifts in his seat, presenting himself from different sides. „How do you want me?“
Jay stares. „Just the way you normally sit when you read. I would like to draw you like that.“ His voice is quiet.
„Alright.“ Jungwon picks up his book again.
Jay’s coffee slowly gets cold as he completely focuses on drawing. It takes some time, but Jungwon doesn’t move, doesn’t seem bothered by it. When he’s done, Jay looks at the other nervously.
„Can I see?“ Jungwon leans forward.
Jay holds out the sketchbook, hands shaky.
Jungwon‘s eyes widen. „Oh, I-I am so…you drew me so…“ His voice cracks a little.
„I‘m not sure if I was able to capture it really well. You know…the things I feel when I see you like that. You‘re so beautiful.“
Jungwon looks up and Jay realizes that the other is blushing. „God, Jay I…“
„Do you not like it?“ Jay asks, anxiety crawling into his skin.
Jungwon puts his hand on top of his, and Jay‘s breath hitches. The touch is incredibly soft.
„No, I love it.“
„I‘m glad“, Jay murmurs.
Jungwon sits up straighter, still blushing, but his eyes are looking for Jay’s, determination glowing in them.
„Let me take you out, Jay.“ Jungwon‘s fingers carefully curl around Jay‘s. „Not here. Like, really take you out. I‘ll think of somewhere you‘ll like. A beautiful place. Somewhere you can draw more, where I can treat you to dinner afterwards.“
Jungwon’s eyes sparkle, he glows. Jay swallows around the lump in his throat. He thinks he might start to cry.
He nods and nods, gripping Jungwon‘s hand back.
When he walks to university, heart beating furiously, there is a small piece of paper in his hand.
It‘s Jungwon‘s phone number, followed by a single sentence.
‚I‘m so happy that we met.‘
Jay picks up his pace. He can’t wait to get back to the cafe tomorrow.
To say it back, and maybe more.
——— ~ ———