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Like any other student, Soonyoung looks forward to the beauty that is a summer break. Because during summer breaks, he’d wear refreshing sleeveless shirts, buy sorbetes from the vendor that roamed his village, and hang by Aguirre, stuffing his face with food whilst his wallet suffers. It’s perfect. Almost.
“Babe, I swear we should try going to the Town.”
Soonyoung raises his eyebrows and pauses, squinting down at Jihoon whose head is resting on his lap. They’re by Taft, hanging by a café whose spaces are in that of a cubicle, different writings adorning the floors, walls and tables. “Alabang Town Center? Isn’t that far from where you live?”
Jihoon sits up, facing him. “I meant UP Town Center.”
Oh.
Jihoon lives in the North while Soonyoung lives in the South. Their uni is by the North, where they are right now. For someone who lives in the South, where traffic is a norm, and the enforces themselves are eaten by the system, commuting is such a huge hassle for Soonyoung already. He’d leave the house at 5:55AM and would arrive to the uni at 7:00AM, but if all else fails, just a five-minute interval from his usual time of leave—6:00AM—he’d then arrive at the uni at around 8:00AM, totally late for his first class. So as much as possible, he races for the seats at the waiting area of the UV Express station, clutching a fifty-peso bill, backpack against his chest.
“Why don’t you try going to the South? ATC’s really nice, you know.”
The word ‘Alabang’ stresses Jihoon out. It’s obvious from the sigh that came out of his mouth and the way his eyebrows furrowed. Soonyoung, amused, holds in a chuckle, taking a step back to adore his cute boyfriend. “It’s too far,” Jihoon whines, wrapping his arms around Soonyoung’s waist. “Please?”
“I live in the South, remember? UPTC is too far for me.”
“Then just take Grab or Uber.” Jihoon suggests.
There it is.
When in doubt, use Grab or Uber. (Jisoo, a senior, once came up to him and said he successfully commuted. Soonyoung retorts that using Grab or Uber or riding taxis in general are not exactly commuting. Jisoo rolls his eyes and doesn’t talk to him for a good hour.)
“You know what, let’s just hang in Makati. Powerplant Mall?"
Jihoon’s face scrunches. “But everything in Makati is literally made of gold.”
Soonyoung sighs, “yeah, you’re right.”
“Let’s have a food trip in Maginhawa?" Jihoon tries. Another place from the North.
“How about Aguirre?" South.
“Katip?” North.
“BGC?” South.
“Putangina, so sino mag aadjust? (Motherfucker, so who will adjust?)” Jihoon throws his hands in the air in frustration. Soonyoung sighs. This is the reason why half of his being dreads summer breaks, because it meant being far from Jihoon. It would mean facetime sessions (it’d go on for hours though at the end of the day, both of them deem that it isn’t really enough), kissing screens instead of actual lips.
So, Soonyoung presses his lips against Jihoon’s, chaste and sweet unlike the Americano Jihoon drank, under the speakers that played an Eraserheads song, behind the curtains, in between walls of doodles and short stories. He loves Jihoon; loved him even before they got squished due to the cramping crowd in the LRT (despite the circumstances, they still had a decent conversation. Of course, because why would Soonyoung pass up such an opportunity to talk to his crush?), loved him when he’d drag him to places that are far away from his home, loved him even when he’s fuming about the fare hike for the LRT. In every moment, really.
“Fine,” he says after pulling away, finally making up his mind. “Ako na lang mag aadjust. Ganoon kita ka mahal. (Fine, I’ll be the one to the adjust. I love you that much.)”
UPTC it is.