Work Text:
Tell me about the first man you ever loved, asks Minghao. They’re wrapped together in their bed at the artists’ retreat, thin winter light flooding through the skylight, picking out the golden tones to Minghao’s arm around Hansol’s chest.
Despite being barely an hour outside of Shanghai, the town the retreat is in is incredibly peaceful. Every morning they wake to the sounds of birds chirping and a lone rooster crowing in the distance. It’s the perfect environment for Hansol to work on the next phase of his album – his project is about the coexistence of urban and rural environments, and he needs material to complement the recordings he made in Shanghai over the last few months. The retreat organizers balked at allowing him to be a plus-one, but Minghao had put on the pressure, and they couldn’t very well say no to China’s most promising young sculptor, not when he just sold two million-dollar pieces at Art Basel.
Hansol turns over Minghao’s question in his head. They’re getting to the phase of their relationship where they feel comfortable telling each other about the people they’ve dated. Hansol knows all about Minghao’s on-and-off-again ex of ten years who he broke up with for good only a month before he met Hansol. Hansol’s own past is much less interesting – he’s dated a few guys both casually and seriously over the years, but all of them put together never caused as much trouble as Minghao’s one ex. He does have one good story, though. He snuggles into Minghao’s arms and starts to tell it.
It was more than a decade ago now, and far away from here. I was going to high school in Seoul and in the summer it was stiflingly hot even at night. We walked home late but the city was all lit up, we ate ice cream to cool down, and danced in the convenience store. He was my first crush and after three months he left and I never heard from him again.
i.
Hansol first notices Boo Seungkwan around the start of May. The hagwon tutor has just stepped out of the room, leaving them with a stack of math problems to solve, and Hansol’s weighing if he has time to take a quick nap before she gets back. His decision gets interrupted by a group of students gathered at the front of the room. They’re doing some kind of skit that’s drawing gales of laughter from the rest of the class. Hansol doesn’t understand what exactly the joke is – something making fun of the teacher they had last term – but his eyes are drawn to the boy at the front of the group. He’s the loudest one, fully committed to the caricature. It’s easy to tell that he relishes the attention he’s getting for his performance, his smile getting bigger for every gale of laughter.
There’s a satisfaction to watching a born performer do his tricks. But there’s something more about the boy captivating Hansol’s attention. Something in the way he moves, the extra flick to his wrist when he gestures. The way the pitch of his voice curls up at the end of his sentences. Hansol sits up and starts tracking the details of the boy’s behavior. It feels like he’s letting himself act more freely as he basks in the energy of the crowd. Hansol feels a kinship to him, and a bit of jealousy. Not that Hansol would want any that attention, but he wishes he was comfortable in his own skin in that way. Or freer with himself. It’s hard to explain.
Hansol doesn’t know many other people at this hagwon. He’s only been coming here since the beginning of the term in February. He used to go to a hagwon closer to home with more of his high school classmates, but his parents transferred him over to this one for this school year because it supposedly gets better results. Now he makes two subway transfers every night on the way here and back. The days have been getting longer, but his commute still takes place after sunset. His mom, who never went through this whole educational system, had asked if it was really necessary, but then Hansol’s report card for last year came in and his dad put his foot down. Personally, Hansol wishes he could go to an academy that’s more relevant to his interests, some kind of music school, but he hasn’t found the right time to broach that topic with his parents.
The teacher comes back in and disperses the comedy troupe. She scolds them about goofing off but her heart clearly isn’t into it. It’s hard to summon up much enthusiasm for algebra drills. Hansol manages to catch a glimpse of the boy’s nametag as he goes back to his seat. Boo Seungkwan. It’s not a common name, at least rarer than Chwe Hansol. He turns over the name in his mouth, writes it into his workbook. Find the roots of x3-4x2+2x+9. x = 부, 승, 관.
The next week the teacher holds Hansol back at the end of the class session. She’s been reviewing his math practice exam scores and is concerned about his lack of progress. This is the problem with switching to a new place. Hansol’s managed to convince his high school teacher that he doesn’t need to be good at math for his chosen career path, and to not bring his performance up with to his parents too often. Here, however, the teacher’s sole job is to turn him into a math-spewing robot, so begging that he doesn’t need to know the difference between sines and cosines to mix a song won’t cut it. Instead he mumbles something about how he’s still getting used to her faster pace compared to his regular school and promises three times to work harder until she lets him go.
(Funnily enough, it’s only a couple of years later that someone explains to him that all of sound processing runs on trigonometry and he has to dig out his old math workbooks to make sense of it all.)
When he finally gets out, the side street the building is on is almost empty, all the other students having gone home. The only exception is none other than Boo Seungkwan, who is standing on the sidewalk under a streetlight, looking at his phone. He looks up quickly when he hears the door slam shut and looks disappointed when he sees that it’s only Hansol. He gestures at Hansol to take off his headphones and asks,
“Have you seen Kim Mingyu? Is anyone still in there?”
Hansol doesn’t know any Mingyus, so he shakes his head, then realizes it’s too dark for him to be visible and moves closer to Seungkwan under the streetlight.
“Hyung said he was going to wait for me!” Seungkwan sounds exasperated. “I told him I was going to leave class late, the least he could do is answer my texts.” He shakes his phone in frustration, as if that’ll make Mingyu’s messages to him arrive faster.
It feels like Seungkwan wants someone to vent to, so Hansol hums in agreement.
“Mingyu-hyung knows I get hungry after classes, and he promised we could get food together tonight. I cleared it with my mom and everything, and now I’m stuck here alone like a loser!”
Seungkwan does look very dismayed, maybe even about to cry. Hansol thinks he should be comforting him somehow, but he can’t hug someone he doesn’t know, and a shoulder pat would be incredibly awkward. Seungkwan is looking straight at him, though, as if he’s expecting something, so Hansol says,
“Uh, do you want to get something to eat?”
It turns out to be the right thing to say, because Seungkwan beams at him.
“There’s a convenience store a few blocks that way, we can buy some snacks there,” he says, pointing towards the main road in the opposite direction as Hansol’s subway stop. “You’re Chwe Hansol, right?”
Hansol stares at him, surprised. Seungkwan is still smiling at him, but a little more shyly now.
“I heard your name when the teacher called roll. You’re new this term? Most of the other students have been around for a while. I’m Boo Seungkwan.” He tugs on Hansol’s sleeve to get them moving towards the convenience store, saving Hansol from letting slip that he already knew Seungkwan’s name, and from commenting on the fact that Seungkwan is already speaking to him informally, as if they’ve been friends for years.
It turns out that Hansol’s impression of Seungkwan as a ready talker is correct. He keeps up his chatter as they walk down the road, not asking for anything more than the occasional grunt of acknowledgement from Hansol. Hansol learns all about Seungkwan’s favorite late-night snacks, the food he wants to serve at his booth for the school festival, the carnival games he finds most frustrating, everything except any more details about the Kim Mingyu who stood him up. The road they’re on is still busy with cars even at this time of night, and every time a car passes by its headlights light up Seungkwan’s face making a different expression. Hansol is fascinated by the different faces Seungkwan makes, but he forces himself to look forward so he doesn’t trip and get caught staring.
The convenience store is empty when they walk in, apart from the kid tending the cash register at the front. Hansol gestures towards the ramyeon section, but Seungkwan shakes his head.
“I’m on a diet, and ramyeon makes my face puffy late at night,” he explains, heading to the refrigerated section instead.
Hansol strolls down the chip aisle. Is Seungkwan worried about his weight? He seems so confident in the way he presents itself. Hansol has a strong urge to say something about it to Seungkwan, but he doesn’t know what words to use. Seungkwan probably has friends to talk about these things with. It’s none of Hansol’s business anyway. He grabs a bag of potato chips and heads over to where Seungkwan is holding two packages of cut kimbap, looking anguished.
“I can’t decide which one I want! I like tuna kimbap better, but I don’t think I can eat all that mayo, so maybe I should get the beef one instead…”
“We can get both and split them,” suggests Hansol.
Seungkwan’s face lights up again. Hansol doesn’t like tuna that much, but he would eat a dozen kimbap if he keeps getting that smile. He grabs the kimbap to go pay for it, Seungkwan trailing behind him. The kid running the store come up over from the chair where he was napping when Seungkwan exclaims, “Oh! This is my song!”
The store has the radio tuned to a station playing idol music. It’s not music that Hansol listens to; he tuned it out when they walked in. The song Seungkwan likes is one that Hansol is familiar with – it was a hit when they were kids – though he couldn’t name the girl group who sings it. It’s the kind of song his friends make fun of, repetitive lyrics laid on top of a basic electronic beat. Seungkwan doesn’t know that, though, and as the song gets into swing he steps away from the cash register facing the back of the store and starts moving to the beat. At first he’s hesitant, but the memory of the choreography comes back to him by the chorus and he’s full-on dancing between the candy bars and the refrigerated sodas.
Watching Seungkwan dance, Hansol gets an impression of why someone could be into this music. His dancing is exuberant, like he’s completely let himself go expressing his excitement. It’s different from when Seungkwan was performing for the class, when he was tightly controlled and looking for approval. Here he’s forgotten that Hansol and the cashier are here, staring at his back. But there’s a similarity in how freely Seungkwan is expressing himself, in how much personality he’s projecting in a way that Hansol never does, even when he’s hidden behind a pseudonym online.
He knows now what he wants to say to Seungkwan. He wants to tell him that he couldn’t stop staring at him last week, and he can’t stop staring at him now, because of how beautiful he is.
Hansol doesn’t know how to deal with this revelation, so he makes himself turn back to the cashier to pay for their food. The kid is also staring at Seungkwan, and Hansol has to clear his throat a couple of times to get his attention. The kid then smirks at him, of all things, as if he was reading Hansol’s mind and approves. Hansol’s face gets hot and he pays as fast as possible.
Seungkwan catches up to him at the door, excusing himself for getting distracted.
“Sorry, I don’t know what came on to me. I can’t believe I was dancing like that. Did you pay for all the food? We should split the cost if we’re sharing.”
“You’re a good dancer,” is what Hansol brings himself to say. It’s a small part of what he was feeling, but he hopes that it’s enough for now.
“You think so?” Seungkwan giggles. “I mean, I’ve never taken classes or anything. I just like to practice dances I like in front of the mirror at home. And in the convenience store when no one’s there. It’s a little embarrassing, isn’t it?”
Hansol shakes his head. Seungkwan giggles again.
They end up eating the kimbap sitting on a bench at the nearest bus stop. Seungkwan doesn’t chatter as much when he’s eating, but it’s nice to sit quietly for a while. Most of Hansol’s friends he’s met online, on music production forums, and he’s only met up with one of them in person. He doesn’t think of himself as an unfriendly person, but he just hasn’t clicked with anyone at his school. He hopes Seungkwan would agree with this self-assesment. He has an extra piece of kimbap, which he puts on Seungkwan’s tray. Seungkwan eats it and sighs.
“That really hit the spot. Thanks for buying us snacks, Chwe Hansol. You’ll have to let me pay next time though.”
Hansol smiles. A promise of a next time is all he needs.
Next time ends up being sooner than Hansol had dared to hope. Early the next week, after a particularly mind-numbing session memorizing trig identities, he walks out of class to find Seungkwan waiting for him in the hallway. He leaves his headphones off, and they go to the same store, where the same kid is still working all alone. Hansol lets Seungkwan choose the food, lets him pay this time, and they sit on the same bench to eat. Seungkwan chatters the whole time, updating him on everything he did this weekend while Hansol nods along and hums in agreement when needed. And just like the last time, when he finally heads home, Hansol feels like he’s floating on a cloud.
Somehow Seungkwan doesn’t decide he’s done with Hansol after this settling of debts. They get late-night snacks together multiple times over the next month. It’s not every day, but it is more than once a week. Hansol finds himself counting down the minutes until the end of class, anticipating whether Seungkwan will be waiting for him today, or if it’ll be one of the times he’s already gone or walking away with a group of his friends instead. He feels foolishly jealous on those days, as if he could take away Seungkwan from his real friends. Hansol tries talking more when they do hang out, sharing more of himself, to make himself interesting enough to be worth Seungkwan’s attention. It’s worth it when he manages to make Seungkwan laugh.
When he finds himself spacing out thinking about how round Seungkwan’s cheeks are, in front of his pirated music editing software at 3 AM, he decides he has to do something about it.
This late, there still are some night owls online in the chat. All his best work has been finished in a rush of adrenaline in the wee hours of the night, his insomniac friends egging him on. He sends a message to the main chat channel
vernon98 any advice on what to do when you have a massive crush on someone?
s.coups !!!! our vernonie’s fallen in love! he’s all grown up!
s.coups tell us all the details! Is it someone from your school?
woozi Welcome to adulthood. Just to warn you, Love is Pain.
kino definitely start by getting to know them better
s.coups don’t introduce her to kino, he’s going to seduce her away from you
vernon98 its a friend from hagwon weve been getting food after class together
s.coups romantic late-night food dates! when you get married you have to invite us
kino that’s great! have you asked them out to anything beyond that yet?
woozi Whatever you do, make sure you remember how you feel during it. It can be great material for songwriting.
s.coups please woozi we don’t need any more of your incel anthems
Hansol hesitates before saying more. He hasn’t told his friends much about his personal life. The only one he’s met in person is Kino, who’s also a high schooler – they found out they live near each other and have gone skateboarding together a couple of times. He knows that s.coups and woozi are university students, along with a couple of the other people in the chat, but that’s about it. His gut feeling, though, tells him he knows they’re chill guys and that he’s safe being honest with them. Maybe that’s wishful thinking, but he goes for it anyway. He’s trying to be more himself, like Seungkwan.
vernon98 the one thing is that
vernon98 it’s another guy
He sits back in his chair, heart pounding. He’s never said that much before. It’s exciting and stressful. His friends answer quickly:
s.coups oh cool! thanks for telling us!
s.coups does that make things more complicated?
kino well do you know if he’s also into guys?
vernon98 im pretty sure he is
vernon98 do you think i should ask him tho
kino if you want to be sure you could suss it out first
kino like see how he feels about gay people in general
s.coups I’m out of my depth here but I’d say just go for it
s.coups if he’s friends with you I bet he’s a good guy
vernon98 ^.^
s.coups woozi you doing ok?
woozi is typing …
woozi Yeah I’m good
woozi Going to think about the lyrics you wrote differently now.
vernon98 dude im still the same old me
woozi Sorry that came out wrong
woozi Of course nothing about you changed, I’m just thinking about things
woozi in a broader way.
woozi But I do hope things work out with this guy!
s.coups we all do!!!
vernon98 awwww thx guys
ii.
One day in early June, Hansol leaves class and sees Seungkwan talking to a tall boy with the same school uniform as him. He’s one of the most handsome people Hansol’s met, his hair perfectly styled and his uniform tight on his muscular body. From the way Seungkwan is looking up at him, he thinks the same. The boy is talking casually while learning against the wall, and Seungkwan’s eyes are following every word coming from his lips. Hansol stands a bit down the hall waiting for the other boy to leave. It’s the longest he’s seen Seungkwan go without interrupting anyone. This must be Kim Mingyu.
Hansol tries to stay light-hearted when Mingyu leaves, even though he’s feeling sick to his stomach.
“Is that your boyfriend?” he asks, schooling his face into a friendly smile.
Judging from the way Seungkwan’s face falls, either he didn’t succeed or it was the wrong question to ask.
“No!” replies Seungkwan immediately. Hansol wants to correct himself, explain that he didn’t mean it in that way, the teasing way their other classmates could mean it, the way that kids in elementary school would throw at you if you got too close to a male friend. He wants to tell him he means it in a positive way, as in if you two are dating I support you or I wish I had a boyfriend too or don’t date him date me instead. But he can’t figure out to put all this into words that won’t expose him, so he just stares at Seungkwan open-mouthed until Seungkwan clarifies:
“I mean, I’m not like that.” Seungkwan’s eyes are very round, matching the shape of his face. Hansol’s heart drops vertiginously. He made a big mistake and now needs to back out of it as fast as possible.
“Oh, I’m sorry for assuming,” he says, looking down at his shoes.
Seungkwan pulls on his elbow to get him moving down the street. “It’s ok, let’s just go get some food,” he says. There’s an awkward silence hanging between them, one that would be usually filled by Seungkwan’s chattering. Hansol casts around, trying to think of any topic that can bring that back. In the end, he asks what he wants to know. Hopefully it can smooth things out rather than inflame them further.
“So how do you know that Mingyu guy anyway?”
Seungkwan looks sideways at him, but seems to take the question as a peace offering, because he immediately launches into an explanation about how Kim Mingyu is his upstairs neighbor who’s a year older, who he’s known for ages, since their families moved into their building at the same time, and they’re more or less friends though Mingyu tends to ignore Seungkwan when they’re at school, which Seungkwan is miffed about. It’s not like Seungkwan doesn’t have plenty of friends in his own class, but Mingyu’s promised multiple times to introduce him to his cool, born-in-97 friends, and he’s flaked on that every time.
“Like does he find me embarrassing? Or is he worried I won’t be chill? I can be very chill!” Seungkwan is waving around his popsicle in the air (he said the stress he was under, due to exams and Kim Mingyu, meant he was allowed to cheat on his diet), which makes him look the complete opposite of chill, but Hansol doesn’t think it’s a great time to tell him that. “Or —” Seungkwan pauses, chewing over his next thought, “—I know you were joking earlier, but what if he thinks I like him! That would be so embarrassing!” He hands his popsicle to Hansol so he can wring his hands. “I really can’t have him thinking that… Imagine him telling his friends about it! ‘You guys know that kid Seungkwan, the one who’s my downstairs neighbor and who’s been following me around pathetically for years? He thinks he’s popular but he’s always begging me to introduce him to my friends. Well I found out why he always wants to hang out with me – turns out he has a massive crush on me! Can you believe it? Disgusting, isn’t it?’”
Seungkwan had put on a deep voice to imitate Mingyu, but as he keeps going his tone rises and he sounds like he’s about to cry. Without thinking, Hansol drops their popsicles and puts his hands on Seungkwan’s shoulders. It’s the most physical contact they’ve had since they met, and Hansol usually wouldn’t initiate that, but Seungkwan is truly having a crisis. Hansol can feel him trembling under his hands.
“Hey,” he says in what he hopes is a calming tone, “Mingyu-ssi is your friend, right? He doesn’t think any of that. He wouldn’t be friends with you if he did. He’s probably just been too busy to introduce you to his friends. You know that, right?”
Hansol keeps his hands on Seungkwan’s shoulders and they take deep breaths together. Seungkwan nods and his words and breaths slow down as he comes back from the brink. “You ok?” asks Hansol after a couple of minutes.
Seungkwan nods again, and looks down at their popsicles on the floor, melting into a green puddle. “You didn’t have to waste ice cream to comfort me,” he says, but he puts his right hand on top of Hansol’s on his shoulder and squeezes it.
It’s time for them to head back, anyway, so they walk over to the bus stop. Seungkwan keeps his hand on Hansol’s shoulder, then slides his arm down over so it’s fully over Hansol’s shoulders.
“Is this alright?” he asks. “I usually do a lot of skinship with my friends, but you didn’t initiate any. I wondered if it was because …” Seungkwan gestures at Hansol’s face to complete his sentence. It takes Hansol a while to figure out what he means.
“Oh you mean because I was born abroad? Maybe, though I’ve lived in Korea for most of my life now.” He hesitates, then gingerly wraps his arm around Seungkwan’s waist. It’s warm, and the warmth runs through his arm into his belly. “It might be because I haven’t had many friends in real life. At school, I mean. Most of my friends I met online. But now that we’re friends I can give it a try.” He hopes he sounds nonchalant even though his heart is pounding in time with the warm feeling.
Hansol knows he’ll have to remember the way Seungkwan looks at him so as to use this feeling in a song later, but right now his brain is too frazzled to come up with a proper metaphor. He could say Seungkwan’s beaming smile is like the afternoon sun finally breaking through early morning fog, but that sounds too cliché. All he knows that the glowing ember of warmth in his belly blooms through his whole body into a sudden blaze, and he smiles back.
Once he gets home and calms himself down, Hansol goes to bed early. He needs to analyze what happened that night, and he can’t think while he’s working. He shuts off his computer and the room lights and lies down on his back on top of his bed covers.
He can think of three explanations Seungkwan’s behavior:
- Seungkwan is actually straight and was surprised by Hansol’s question.
This is the straightforward reading of the situation, if he takes Seungkwan at his words. Seungkwan said that he wasn’t interested in guys, and was bothered by the assumption he was. It means that Hansol let his imagination take him too far. You can’t read someone’s sexuality from their comportment. Hansol should bury his crush on Seungkwan; Seungkwan only wants them to be friends, albeit ones who feel comfortable embracing each other. It’s the most logical approach to take. Maybe he should even distance himself from Seungkwan, keep apart until he can get his feelings under control.
Hansol’s selfish, though. He won’t stop hanging out with Seungkwan just because of a pesky crush. And he won’t give up on the possibility that Seungkwan might like him back. So he moves on to the next possible explanation.
- Seungkwan is gay or interested in guys in some way but is in denial or doesn’t realize it yet.
Seungkwan’s behavior in this scenario would be similar to that in scenario 1. If anything, someone in denial about their sexuality would be even more insistent that they’re totally straight. Does that mean that it’s Hansol’s responsibility to help Seungkwan figure himself out then? Hansol’s pretty comfortable with his sexuality – he came to terms with being gay years ago – but that doesn’t mean he knows how best to talk someone who could be going through that now. He doesn’t even know any other gay people, unless you count his mom’s cousin he met at a wedding once when he was a kid. Though he should have at least made sure to tell Seungkwan that it was ok if he had a boyfriend or if he wanted one.
Which might not be Hansol. There’s no reason for the two gay kids in their class to like each other, even if that’s what Hansol is hoping for. It would be great to have a friend he can share experiences with. They’re two small fish in a big city, after all.
It’s not what he wants though.
- Seungkwan is gay and likes Hansol.
Seungkwan held him. Seungkwan smiled at him. Hansol should tell him. Hansol should kiss him.
He groans and rolls over on his bed, burying his face into his pillow. It’s too much. He can’t get his hopes up. He’s no good at analyzing these kinds of situations, his brain isn’t logical in that way. He’ll just have to do with he usually does, which is play it by ear.
Over the new few weeks, Seungkwan ramps up the skinship. He grabs Hansol’s hand when they’re walking, hugs him from the back while picking what food to buy, and pinches his cheek when he says something funny. They’re bickering at the cash register in the convenience store about who’s going to pay the first time Seungkwan does that, and Hansol yelps, leading the cashier to give them a strange look. It’s the same kid as every time, and Hansol is sure he recognizes them by now and judges any and all things they do. Still, the embarrassment of having his cheek pinched in front of a convenience store cashier is nothing compared to how he feels once Seungkwan starts feeding him food.
It first happens when Hansol’s staring at the solitary mandu remaining on the plate set between them on the trash bin they’re using as a table. Seungkwan is telling a long story about his attempts to get tickets to see his favorite volleyball team, waving around his chopsticks as he talks. Suddenly those chopsticks wander into Hansol’s field of view, pick up the dumpling, and lift it to Hansol’s lips. Hansol opens his mouth to let the dumpling in and looks up to see Seungkwan smiling at him like he just gave his favorite pet a treat. Hansol blushes. He knows he’s a goner.
After that, Seungkwan doesn’t miss an opportunity to give him food, whether its ramyeon noodles dangling from Seungkwan’s chopsticks or cheese puffs off of his fingers. The weather is getting warmer day by day, and they end up eating ice cream or slushies more often than not. Seungkwan amuses himself teasing Hansol with spoonfuls of ice cream, deciding at the last minute if each spoon will end up in his mouth or Hansol’s, which results in half of it ending sliding off the spoon onto the floor. They don’t care and laugh anyway.
Hansol decides to pay more attention to how Seungkwan behaves with his friends, to determine if he’s dealing with anything out of the ordinary. It’s a big group, up to 8 of them depending on the day, half boys and half girls. They usually fill the seats at the front of the class, joking with the teacher in a way that only high-achieving students can get away with. They like to put on skits when they’re on break, reenacting scenes from the latest hit drama, usually with the parts switched so a boy plays the female lead and a girl the male lead. There’s a boy in the year above them called Seokmin who comes down to their classroom specifically for these skits, throwing himself with gusto into playing the naïve office worker waiting for the handsome CEO to sweep her off her feet. He has especially mastered the feet-sweeping part, artistically falling into the arms of whichever girl is his partner for the day, much to the delight of Seungkwan’s friends, who hoot and holler and tease the girl for having such a handsome sunbae faint into her arms for the rest of the class.
Seungkwan himself doesn’t usually act in these skits, instead choosing to heckle the actors from his desk with well-timed quips. Hansol feels a rush of pride whenever it’s a particularly good one that generates peals of laughter.
The one time that his friends coax Seungkwan into acting, it’s a day when the teacher has had to step out on an emergency and has left them to their own devices. They’re doing a historical show Hansol isn’t familiar with – to be honest, the only TV he watches are the American teen shows his sister likes. They’ve found a proper gat for Seungkwan’s friend Yewon to wear as the exiled prince wandering the countryside, but for some reason Seungkwan’s costume for his role as the implausibly beautiful peasant girl is a flimsy veil drawn over his face. When Yewon stomps over and pulls him up by the chin, Seungkwan’s apple cheeks behind the veil are so pretty Hansol could cry. Then Yewon, in her gruffest voice, asks by what chance such a beauty could live in such a forsaken place, and Seungkwan curses her out, calling her nothing but an elitist pig. The whole class bursts out laughing, Yewon included. He goes through what must be every insult he knows, all in the farm girl’s falsetto, looking thoroughly satisfied with himself once he’s done and the class gives him a round of applause.
When Hansol compliments him on his performance the next night, though, Seungkwan looks at him owlishly.
“I didn’t realize you were watching,” he says. “You’re always sitting in the back with your headphones on.”
“I’ve been paying more attention recently.” Hansol bites his lip. He wants to say more but is scared of revealing too much.
“Seokmin-hyung’s the one who wants to become an actor. I’m just goofing around.”
“You’re really funny though. Like, Seokmin-sunbae’s great at being dramatic, but you really think about what you want to say and then you have the exact right line that makes everyone laugh.”
“You make it sound like I’m slow.”
Hansol harumphs, frustrated. Why can’t Seungkwan take a compliment? Seeing the face he’s making, Seungkwan giggles and pets Hansol’s neck before disappearing into the convenience store.
In other words, Hansol is no closer to finding out how Seungkwan feels about him.
The next week, they all get to the school to find a sign on the door saying that classes are cancelled for the day. There was a water pipe explosion and now the building can’t be used until it’s repaired and cleaned up. The students mill around the sign, deciding what to do with their sudden free evening. There are a dozen additional signs posted below it, taped precariously together, detailing the review exercises each class should do at home instead, which everyone pointedly ignores. Hansol stands outside the crowd, waiting for the paper sign contraption to collapse to the ground without anyone noticing.
Someone taps his shoulder. “Do you want to come over for dinner?”
It’s Seungkwan. Hansol blinks at him. “Dinner?”
“Yeah, I was thinking, since classes were canceled, you could come have dinner at my house. My mom’s been asking me to bring friends over.”
Wheels turn over in Hansol’s head. Seungkwan wants him over at his house? Just him? None of Seungkwan’s other friends are around, but he asks anyway.
“I don’t think my mom could deal with everyone, it would be so loud! You’re quiet, I think she’ll like you.” And Seungkwan burst out laughing in a way that Hansol hopes means, just like how I like you.
They take the metro to Seungkwan’s apartment, which is in a much shabbier building than Hansol’s. On the way, Seungkwan explains to him that they used to live in Jeju-do, but when Seungkwan’s parents divorced he moved with his mom to Seoul so she could get a job. Reading between the lines, it sounds to Hansol like she only talks to her family members, and Seungkwan is left interfacing with everyone else. While Seungkwan explains this he daydreams about how he could help him if they were dating. Maybe Seungkwan’s mother will love him and he’ll encourage her to a ballroom dance class for adults where she’ll meet a handsome widower. He’ll convince his parents to take them on a trip to Jeju so Seungkwan can show him where he grew up. He’ll get a part-time job when they’re in university so they can move in together and Seungkwan can leave his mother’s house.
Entering Seungkwan’s apartment feels like going twenty years into the past. Hansol knows that his parents are more interested in contemporary design than the average person – ok, much more interested – but even then Seungkwan’s mom’s décor is old-fashioned. As a result, Seungkwan’s mom looks younger than he expects. She greets him very politely, exclaiming how happy she is Seungkwan’s brought a friend home to meet her and insisting Hansol call her eomma.
They stopped to buy banchan at the store on Seungkwan’s block before going up, which Hansol had attempted and failed to pay for, so he helps Seungkwan set those out while his mom brings the rice and jjigae. It’s awkwardly quiet as she serves them the food, until Seungkwan saves them by launching into an explanation of how they decided which side dishes to buy. Hansol tries the jjigae. It’s watery but edible.
Eventually Seungkwan’s mom asks how they became friends, and Hansol can see why Seungkwan said he invited him because he’s quiet, because Seungkwan launches into an explanation without letting Hansol put in a word. He unfolds an elaborate story where Hansol is at the top of their class in math (Hansol has never been good at math in his life, even when math just meant learning times tables), and Seungkwan desperately needed some help, though just for that one test, otherwise he’s on top of all the material with nothing to worry about, so he asked Hansol to tutor him in exchange for Seungkwan helping him out in Korean (Hansol wonders if he should be offended that Seungkwan chose to cast him as less-than-fluent). Seungkwan’s mom nods along with the story, though the whole time she’s examining Hansol, as if her x-ray vision can determine if he indeed is good enough to help Seungkwan master elementary functions. Hansol does his best to smile at her, hoping he’s passing the test.
Once they’ve mostly finished eating, Seungkwan excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and his mom chooses that moment to start her interrogation. She quickly runs through asking about his parents, where he lives, and what he wants to do in life, frowns at learning they’re artists who met in New York City, frowns harder when Hansol says he wants to be a composer (Hansol’s attempt at making ‘music producer’ sound more respectable).
“It seems like my Seungkwan has grown … fond of you,” she says skeptically. Suddenly she exclaims like she’s found the piece of evidence she needs to convict Hansol. He follows her eyeline down to his socks. His pride-flag rainbow socks.
He’d found them a few months ago when he was browsing clothes online. He’d bought them on impulse, charging them to his parent’s credit card along with two hoodies from an indie designer he liked and four matching black beanies. He thought they’d be a fun way to announce his sexual orientation discreetly. Out himself in an introverted way. The Hansol way.
His mom had found them when she was doing the laundry. She’d called him down to help fold his clothes, and asked him if there was anything he wanted to tell her when she handed the socks over. He’d shrugged, and said he liked the pattern. His mom had pulled him into a hug and told him how much she loved him, her and his dad, no matter what.
The socks are part of his regular rotation now. He doesn’t particularly notice when he wears them, and so didn’t remember that he had them on earlier when Seungkwan invited him over. And now the innocent socks condemn him.
Seungkwan doesn’t realize the atmosphere has changed when he gets back. He continues chatting about their imaginary plans to study together. His mom and Hansol don’t say a word as they watch him. Track how he lets his hand wander over to Hansol’s as he talks, caresses the back of his fingers, drifts up to tweak Hansol’s ear. Hansol wants to shout at him to stop, that he’s getting himself in trouble, but it’s too late. The expression on Seungkwan’s mom’s face has turned sour.
Hansol excuses himself soon after, saying he has to make his curfew, refusing Seungkwan’s offer of dessert. He’s already slipping on his shoes by the time Seungkwan follows him to the entrance. They hug, and Hansol holds on to Seungkwan extra-long, because he gets the feeling that he might not get the chance again. Seungkwan’s mom watches them like a hawk until he pulls the door shut behind him.
It's still light outside when he exits out onto the street. He walks all the way home, the sky slowly fading from blue to pink to the color of the city lights as he does. The whole time he’s thinking about what he’s lost.
Sure enough, when their hagwon reopens the next week, Seungkwan ignores him. Hansol tries to make eye contact, but Seungkwan keeps himself surrounded by his friends and looks the other way. There’s no one waiting for him outside after class. Hansol puts on his headphones and rides the bus home alone.
vernon98 guys I f’ed up
vernon98 remember that guy I was crushing on?
vernon98 he invited me over to dinner (!!) but i think his mom caught on that i liked him
vernon98 and banned him from talking to me
vernon98 bc hes been ignoring me since
kino what like she doesnt want her son being seduced by another guy? o.O
s.coups boo homophobia!!
s.coups that’s a major bummer dude
s.coups you see each other at your hagwon right? Maybe you can pass a note to him
s.coups he can’t ignore you forever I need my vernonie to find love!!
woozi I know you’re hurting right now but heartbreak is a really powerful emotion to capture when you’re writing songs.
vernon98 already on that captain woozi
kino hey vern you wanna meet up this weekend
kino we can go skateboarding itll cheer you up
kino and talk about what you can do next without these bozos
iii.
On Friday, Hansol goes to the convenience store alone. He lingers in the aisles, examining all the food items he bought with Seungkwan that are way less appetizing when eaten alone. Finally, he settles on a Melona bar. The summer heat has finally broken through, and it’s sweltering, almost stiflingly hot.
The same cashier as usual rings him up. He has a fan blasting him in the face, giving him a permanently windswept look. He leans over to see behind Hansol as he scans the popsicle, as if Seungkwan might be hiding behind him.
“Did you and your boyfriend break up?” the cashier asks, handing Hansol his change.
Hansol starts. First Seungkwan’s mom, now this cashier. Had their behavior been more readable as romantic than they intended?
The cashier starts backtracking as soon he sees Hansol’s facial expression. “Oh, I was just joking, I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant, when I’m on shift, I’m so bored I have fun imagining what the lives of the people coming in are like. I always see you two being so cute together, so I had this whole story in my head about how you were dating each other. It didn’t mean anything. My dad tells me I have an overactive imagination.”
Hansol sighs and puts his forehead down on the counter. He can feel the air from the fan rippling the back of his hair. “We aren’t dating. I like him, though. Like him a lot. But I don’t know if he likes me back and his mom noticed I was gay and now he can’t talk to me. I don’t know what to do.”
“He definitely likes you,” the cashier says. Hansol looks up at him. “I’ve seen lots of dramas, and if the male lead looks at the female lead like he looks at you, he definitely likes her.”
Hansol leans back against the counter. He opens his popsicle and starts eating it. It cools down his overheated brain. He clears out the thoughts in his mind, until what’s left is pure longing. What he wants the most now is to be with Seungkwan. He lets himself focus on that feeling, the strength of it.
The cashier interrupts his reverie. “So are you going to talk to him?”
Hansol nods as he throws out his popsicle stick. He’s got to go back home to start turning what he’s feeling into the bones of a song. Before he leaves, he takes note of the cashier’s name tag. Maybe if he patches things up with Seungkwan, he’ll send this Lee Chan a thank you note.
Sunday evening finds him at the skate park with Kino, whose actual name is Hyunggu. It’s weird to call each other by their handles in real life, so when they meet up they go from Kino and Vernon to Hyunggu and Hansol. It’s easier to talk about their very high school problems that way, when they don’t have to sound like aspiring music producers to their older friends online. Though today they’re mostly here to distract themselves skating.
It's late enough that the sunlight is fading fast, even during one of the longest days of the year. The floodlights in the skate park have just come on, casting everything in sharp shadow. They’re close enough to the Han River that a breeze is lifting the oppressive heat, especially when they catch some speed. There were some other teenagers around when they first got here, but by now they’ve all left. It gives them more space to practice their tricks.
After a while Hansol leaves Hyunggu to skate around the perimeter of the park. He’s heard some voices that he’s curious about, and finds them at the basketball courts adjacent to the skate park. It’s two teenagers, their features hard to distinguish due to the way the floodlights are pointing. One of them is tall, the other around Hansol’s height.
He sits down on his skateboard and watches them play for a while. They’re pretty good, actually, and clearly taking the game seriously. He sees the shorter one shouting and gesturing when he thinks a rule was broken, and the taller one answering back good-naturedly. By the time the sun has fully set, they take a break to catch their breath and drink some water, on the opposite side of the courts where Hansol can barely see them.
Shortly after, though, the tall one comes over to where Hansol is sitting. Now that he’s closer, Hansol can make out his facial features through the chain-link fence. He’s strikingly handsome, not ideally so in the way Mingyu is, but more boyish, more approachable.
“Seungkwan says he thinks you’re someone he knows,” the boy says.
“He does know me,” says Hansol.
“He says he’s not supposed to talk to you.”
“Tell him I miss him and want to talk to him.”
The boy smirks knowingly and jogs back across the basketball court. Minutes later, Seungkwan walks over at a much slower pace. Hansol gets up to face him through the fence.
“My mom doesn’t want me meeting you anymore,” says Seungkwan.
Longing is amplifying Hansol’s bravado, so he takes a risk and asks, “But you still want to?”
Seungkwan steps closer and nods. Hansol wants to grab his hand, but instead he nods towards the other boy and asks, “Is that your boyfriend?”
Seungkwan laughs shrilly. “You keep asking that! Why would I have a boyfriend? Bin’s just a friend, I go to school with him.”
That’s enough for Hansol. He wraps his hand around Seungkwan’s where it’s holding on to the fence. Seungkwan looks at him wide-eyed. Hansol holds eye contact, willing his intent to come through. Seungkwan must understand at least somewhat because he pulls his hand out of Hansol’s and whispers, “Not here!”
Hansol looks around. The courts and park are deserted. Seungkwan’s friend Bin has retreated out of sight. He can’t even hear Hyunggu’s skateboarding. There could hardly be a better place to hold hands.
“Where, then?” he asks. His emotional state is sinking quickly.
“We can meet after class like usual. I know a place no one will see us. Right now I’m not ready. My mom is expecting me back home soon.”
Despite this, Seungkwan lingers, looking at Hansol, biting his lip. Right before leaving, he reaches out and caresses Hansol’s hand. Then he turns and runs off, leaving Hansol all alone.
Hyunggu finds him sitting on his skateboard with his headphones on in the same spot fifteen minutes later. He sits down next to Hansol and taps him on the shoulder to ask what he’s been up to.
“I ran into Seungkwan, the guy I’ve been talking to you guys about. We talked, but I’m more confused than ever. I like him, and he likes me, I’m pretty sure, but for some reason we can’t move forward with anything.” He recounts their conversation to Hyunggu in case he can make heads or tails of it.
“I think he’s not ready because he’s still working through things himself,” Hyunggu says finally. “Suppose you thought you were straight until some incredibly hot foreign-looking classmate with impeccable taste in music but no sense of humor approached you” – Hansol punches him to make him stop – “but actually, on top of that his mom is making it clear she doesn’t approve. Wouldn’t that make you want to be cautious?”
“Yeah, I can see it. But what drew me to Seungkwan in the first place was how confident he was. And he really comes off as gay. I thought that with all that, he’d be comfortable with being gay. But I guess it really is separate.”
“Opposites attract, right? You got a confident feminine guy unsure about his sexuality, and a guy who wears pride socks but doesn’t know how to talk, it’s a great match!”
They have a good laugh about it, which helps Hansol relax, and pack up their stuff to head back home. The sun has fully set now, but it’s never really dark in the city. As soon as they’re out of the park onto the streets, they’re again surrounded by people and the warm lights spilling out of restaurants and bars. Maybe this is the kind of place that Seungkwan wants to talk. In a way, it’s more private than being alone in the middle of an empty park, because you know everyone around you has some more interesting conversation to listen to.
Hyunggu leaves him at the subway, reminding Hansol to keep being patient with Seungkwan before descending into the station. That leaves Hansol to wait for the bus home alone. He pulls his headphones on, queues up the playlist he made about Seungkwan, and thinks about how beautiful Seungkwan looked earlier, the reliefs of his face thrown into contrast in the harsh floodlights.
Hansol has to wait the whole next week for Seungkwan to talk to him again. At least this time Seungkwan doesn’t ignore him. Instead, every class, Seungkwan makes sure to look at him as much as he can, both short glances as if to reassure himself that he's still there, and longer ones that make Hansol want to get up, hold him, kiss him, anything to close the distance between them. One time they’re supposed to be running through timed math problems, Seungkwan looks up and make eye contact with him every time he finishes a problem. Hansol matches Seungkwan’s pace so he can look back at him each time. At the end, Seungkwan smiles at him and he feels himself flush to the tips of his ears. It’s the fastest he's ever finished one of the problem packets.
At the end of their class, though, when Hansol looks for Seungkwan as they’re packing up, Seungkwan shakes his head to say that they can’t meet up today, and Hansol is left on his own. He’s made a habit of going to the convenience store anyway, where Chan the cashier lends a sympathetic ear to his frustrations. Chan also wants to hear about being gay, producing music, high school beyond the first months he’s experienced. He closes down the store and they sit in the aisles eating the leftover hot food. It’s fun, in a different way than it was with Seungkwan. Less longing and more laughing.
On Friday, Seungkwan finally lets Hansol know he’s ready to meet. Hansol hangs back in the classroom until Seungkwan’s said goodbye to all his friends, then joins him outside. Instead of going down the street to the convenience store as usual, he heads off in the other direction, and Hansol follows him. They cross a main artery road and cut through a park before turning onto a street lined with houses that Seungkwan follows for a while.
Soon enough they start climbing as the street zigzags up a hill. The great expanse of city lights below them gets smaller and smaller until they reach a small park. There’s a bench at the edge of the park that has a view of the whole city, lit up by a single electric lamppost. Seungkwan sits there, and Hansol sits next to him.
“When I first moved here, I used to come here when I needed space to think,” says Seungkwan. Hansol hums in agreement. They sit for a while, watching the flows and counterflows of traffic, the houses blinking on when people come home and blinking off when they go to bed.
“I have something to tell you,” says Seungkwan, finally.
“I have something to tell you too,” says Hansol.
“You go first,” says Seungkwan. “I don’t want it to be like in a drama where they say it at the same time and it turns out horrible.”
“I like you, Seungkwan. I really like you. I want to be your boyfriend, go on dates together, holds hands, kiss, everything. Every time I look at you, I feel so much tenderness towards you. I don’t know how you feel about me, and I know your mom doesn’t approve, but when we’re together, I think you like me too. I missed you, these last few weeks.” He delivers this all matter-of-factly, looking Seungkwan right in the eye. It’s his truth and he’s not ashamed of it.
Seungkwan takes Hansol’s hands in his own. His cheeks are pink. “I like you too, Hansol,” he says. “Binnie told me, after we saw each other last week, a good guy like you deserves a chance. That I should be brave just like you, not be scared of what people think.”
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” asks Hansol. He’s trying to be patient, but his heart is pounding in his chest, asking him to leap ahead, kiss Seungkwan right then and there.
Seungkwan bites his lip. “I’m leaving Seoul in two days.” Hansol’s heart sinks as fast as it rose. “My mom decided to move back to Jeju. She isn’t making enough money from her job here, and my grandpa can’t live by himself anymore. It was all decided a few weeks ago, but I didn’t know how to tell you…”
“You don’t have to go,” Hansol blurts out. Seungkwan widens his eyes. “You’re almost an adult, you can stay here, we can find a way to make it work.”
Seungkwan shakes his head, “I’m all my mom has, I can’t leave her.”
“She has your aunt, your grandpa, you said,” Hanson argues.
“Maybe it’s because your mom is a foreigner, you don’t understand. I have to support her, it’s my responsibility as her son.”
Hansol swears and gets up. To say he doesn’t understand …! He’s just asking Seungkwan to dare to be brave.
“No, Hansol, come back, I didn’t mean it like that! But you have to know it isn’t that easy. Where would I even live? With you? Do you even have space? And I love Jeju, I’ve wanted to move back ever since we left.”
Hansol sits back down on the bench with his head in his hands. It feels like his world is falling apart moments after it got fit together. If it were him, what would he do? He knows his parents’ marriage is falling apart, and his mom wants to move back to the US and would like to take him and his sister with her. He’s determined to stay in Seoul when that happens. He loves the city and everything he wants is here. Except, soon, Seungkwan
“Look, Hansol, I’m still here tomorrow. My mom’s in Jeju right now, she’s coming to pick me in two days. We can spend all of tomorrow together. Let’s be boyfriends for a day.”
Hansol looks up at him blearily. “Just one day?”
“I’ve never dated anyone before. I want you to be my first. We can do everything you wanted to do.” Seungkwan takes one of Hansol’s hands in his and intertwines their fingers. “See, we’re holding hands.”
Hansol pushes their other hands together. He’s still not sure what is happening, but he’ll take all that he can get. “Okay, we’re boyfriends now. What do you want to do?”
Seungkwan’s eyes sparkle at him. “Everything,” he says, so Hansol does what he wanted to do from the start, and leans in and kisses him.
Seungkwan pulls back, giggling, then leans into Hansol and pushes their lips back together. They kiss a couple of times like that, Hansol’s heart beating faster in his chest the whole time. Seungkwan’s lips are warm and soft, and taste of lip gloss. Then Hansol opens his mouth like he’s seen them do in movies, and they’re kissing for real.
Hansol shifts his weight over onto Seungkwan’s body as he continues kissing him. His hands slide over Seungkwan’s shoulders, down under his jacket to feel his solid back. Seungkwan squirms when Hansol touches him, but reaches behind Hansol’s head to keep pulling him in, and it’s all Hansol has ever wanted.
When they break apart to catch their breath, Seungkwan is disheveled and beaming at Hansol from under him.
“Was it good?” he asks.
“The best,” Hansol says, and then they burst out laughing, because how could it not be the best, when they’ve never kissed anyone else before? But it is the best, until Hansol reaches back down and kisses Seungkwan again so they can have a new best kiss.
It takes them a while to realize they’re kissing on an uncomfortable bench outside in the middle of the night, but eventually Seungkwan’s back hurts too much and he asks Hansol to pull him up. Seungkwan’s face is flushed in a way that Hansol is sure is reflected in his own.
Seungkwan giggles again and Hansol tilts his head to ask why. “No one’s ever stared at me that intensely before,” Seungkwan explains, and Hansol stares at him harder until Seungkwan collapses into giggles against him. Holding Seungkwan close to him, he can feel their hearts beating slightly out of sync.
“We should go back to your place,” he says.
Seungkwan pulls back. “Right now?” he asks.
“You said your mom isn’t home. We’d have the place to ourselves. I don’t want to waste any time we have together.”
Seungkwan bites his lip, but nods. He gets up and takes Hansol’s hand. “Okay, Chwe Hansol, I’ll take you home with me.”
They trace their steps down the hill back into the thick of the city. A mist has descended over the landscape, muting the lampposts and car headlights. It’s a cool night, and it feels like the hard grip of summer has given them a special reprieve. The bus is empty except for them, so Seungkwan lays his head on Hansol’s shoulder. They rush through the noises and lights and smells of the city, all blurring together because Hansol is focused on a singular point, the point where their hands are gripped together like they never want to let go.
epilogue.
“That’s the end of the story?” Minghao asks.
Hansol punches him lightly. “Let my teenaged self have some privacy.”
“You never saw him again, afterward?”
“We spent the whole next day together. It was the best first date I could have imagined. When I left to go home, I gave him my contact and he promised to message me, but he never did.” He adds, “I didn’t even see anyone at that hagwon again. During the summer break I told my parents I would make a huge fuss about their divorce unless they let me enroll in a music academy when the next term started instead. My first three months there I only wrote sad love songs.”
“My sweet, sad, Hansol,” coos Minghao, caressing his cheek. “Did you ever try to find him?”
Hansol shakes his head. “By the time I could, my memories of him had faded into something special I didn’t want to disturb.”
Minghao leans over him. “You’re such a romantic,” he says, then kisses Hansol. They’re distracted for a while from the story as Hansol kisses him back and they roll all over the bed. Once they’re done, Minghao comes back to it, to Hansol’s surprise. “Do you ever think about where Seungkwan could be now? Maybe he came back to Seoul for university and finally asked out that Mingyu guy. Or he met up with the convenience store clerk and they fell in love bonding over how you abandoned them.”
“I told you I don’t want to know,” grumbles Hansol.
“And I’ll respect that. But don’t you want to imagine that wherever he is out there, he’s living his best life? That you inspired him by showing him how to be himself?
“Maybe right now he’s having his morning coffee in his high-rise apartment in Seoul, looking out onto the city with his dog in his lap. He can smell the breakfast his boyfriend is making for him. They’re thinking of having some kind of ceremony, with their friends and family, since they can’t get married, but they’ve been so busy with work and seeing their friends that they haven’t had time to plan it. It’s good, though. They’re in no rush. It’s been years since they moved in together and told everyone they were dating, and their lives have never been better.
“Looking down to the streets, he can see a flood of students in their uniforms rushing to make the bell for their first class at the school down the street. He thinks back to when he was one of those students, back when he met Chwe Hansol. His first love. Where could he be now?
“Nowhere else than at an artist retreat in China, too lazy to get out of bed, with his boyfriend who loves him very much.”