“Two hangover soups here, please.”
As if he’d been here before, Won-hyeok ordered smoothly without even looking at the menu. The place was packed wall to wall, like it was famous for being good. On top of that, almost everyone inside was a college student wearing department jackets.
It was probably one of those well-known campus eateries.
“Have you been here before? It’s famous for hangover soup.”
“No. It’s my first time here. I don’t really go around places near school that often.”
Strictly speaking, that also meant he didn’t have any friends to go around with. But Han-gyeom didn’t particularly feel lonely or isolated. He had never had gloomy thoughts like, Why don’t I have even one friend? Why don’t I have classmates to take pictures with in our department jackets when the cherry blossoms bloom, or go drinking with after exams?
Because he was used to it. Ever since he was young, being alone had been far too familiar to Han-gyeom. If you thought about it, loneliness was also an emotion only someone who had once had something—someone who had experienced it—could really feel.
When he felt Won-hyeok staring at him, Han-gyeom gave an awkward smile.
“I, uh… don’t have any friends.”
“No friends, huh… Well, guys you have one-nights with aren’t exactly friends.”
“Huh?”
Han-gyeom heard Won-hyeok mutter something, but just then the hangover soup arrived, so he couldn’t catch it clearly. He was about to ask again, but Won-hyeok had already picked up his spoon, so he couldn’t.
“Han-gyeom, I think you misunderstood something yesterday.”
“Misunderstood?”
“I wasn’t angry yesterday. And I definitely didn’t think you were interrupting anything.”
That was a relief. It had been bothering him ever since then, like a thorn stuck in his heart, and only now did it finally feel a little better.
As expected, the hunger that a triangle kimbap hadn’t been able to satisfy was resolved all at once by a single bowl of hangover soup. The broth had such unusual depth that he could understand why Won-hyeok had called it a famous spot.
Han-gyeom, who normally had a small appetite, ended up scraping the bowl clean. Won-hyeok, who finished eating first, stood up and went to the register ahead of him, holding out his card.
“Sunbae, I’ll pay for mine.”
Han-gyeom hurriedly fumbled through the front pocket of his bag, trying to find his wallet.
“I’m the one who asked you to come. A hoobae is supposed to just stay quiet and accept it.”
At Won-hyeok’s words telling him to wait outside first, Han-gyeom gave up on finding his wallet and nodded helplessly. When the automatic door opened, the warm noon sunlight settled softly onto the ground.
These days, with the last chill of early spring completely gone and real spring weather fully returned, the sunshine had been beautiful day after day. Han-gyeom stood there soaking in it like a plant photosynthesizing, then turned his head to look around.
“Wow. It’s pretty.”
There were a few benches behind the restaurant where people could sit, drink coffee, and rest. Once he sat there, the huge lake—famous as one of Hankuk University’s signature sights—naturally came into full view. There were even a few people here and there along the walking path. Maybe because the weather was so nice, the view of the lakeside campus felt strangely different from usual.
“You were here?”
“Ah, sunbae.”
By the time he noticed, Won-hyeok had already come over and abruptly held something out in front of Han-gyeom. It was a cone topped with two scoops of ice cream. And not just any kind—it was the old-fashioned kind, like the cheap nostalgic snacks that had been popular when they were kids.
The one Won-hyeok handed to Han-gyeom had two scoops of strawberry ice cream, while Won-hyeok’s had more vanilla.
“You don’t like strawberry? I scooped it because I thought you would.”
Won-hyeok asked as he sat down naturally on the bench.
“I-I do like it.”
He didn’t really know why Won-hyeok thought he’d like strawberry, but since it was something Won-hyeok had given him, what was there not to like?
As Han-gyeom accepted the ice cream with a shy smile, a blush the exact same color as the strawberry ice cream bloomed across his face. Won-hyeok’s persistent gaze settled over that red flush.
Sitting side by side on the bench, they ate ice cream together while looking out at the lake. Feeling the sweet scent of strawberry spread through his mouth, Han-gyeom fidgeted with his fingers. This very moment—eating with Won-hyeok like this and sitting beside him looking at the lake—made his heart pound wildly, yet at the same time, it felt peaceful.
“Sunbae, thank you.”
“For what? Buying you food? That was just…”
“No. For bringing me here.”
When Won-hyeok had first led him to the hangover soup place, Han-gyeom had honestly been flustered. But when Won-hyeok asked if he could eat hangover soup with him, Han-gyeom vaguely understood what he had meant.
At the student cafeteria, when Han-gyeom awkwardly slipped away, and then later when Won-hyeok saw him at the club room eating a triangle kimbap, he had probably pieced it together. That Han-gyeom had been planning to make that one thing his entire lunch. So, without hurting Han-gyeom’s pride, Won-hyeok had bought him a meal with words that made it seem natural. Thanks to that, Han-gyeom hadn’t had to settle for a meager lunch.
“I think you’re really kind, sunbae.”
“…I don’t know. I keep telling the others too, but I’m really not that nice.”
Won-hyeok crunched down on the last piece of the cone. He wasn’t being modest. He was just making a show of hiding what a total mess his personality really was. If Kang Han-gyeom ever came to know the real him properly, there was no way he’d still say things like that.
“Really? But you take good care of our classmates, and you paid my hospital bill, and you even got me glasses.”
“That’s…”
“And you helped me with assignments too. Whatever the reason was, I still think it’s amazing to spend your own time and money on someone else without expecting anything in return.”
“Without expecting anything in return,” Won-hyeok repeated quietly to himself.
“And whether you’re nice or not, I’m sure I’d still like you.”
“…”
“Ah! I don’t mean like that kind of like…”
The moment the words left his mouth, Han-gyeom realized he’d messed up, and his whole body jolted.
“I meant it in the sense that I admire you! Li-like a role model, something like that?”
Panicking, Han-gyeom rushed to patch things up, babbling incoherently. He even shook his head hard, desperate. The feelings he had always cherished with pure devotion toward his favorite had slipped out through the opening created by the comfortable atmosphere.
“My classmates say things like that too! Like, they say they really want to be like you, that they respect you a lot.”
He wasn’t close enough with his classmates to have heard things like that directly, but it was obvious that everyone probably thought so.
Won-hyeok simply watched Han-gyeom chattering beside him like a sparrow, his eyes quiet. Just then, the cool breeze unique to lingering spring swept over the lake.
It brushed lightly through Han-gyeom’s soft hair, fully revealing the face beneath—red as a carrot. Reflected light from the faint ripples shimmering on the lake touched his face, and for some reason it seemed to glow, making it impossible to look away.
Looking at that face, red all the way through, Won-hyeok suddenly remembered Han-gyeom’s face from not long ago, panting in his arms.
“Han-gyeom.”
“Yes?”
“Do you want to date me?”
His flat voice was calm and casual. The unfinished ice cream in Han-gyeom’s hand melted, pale pink drops dripping down one after another.
“What did you just…”
“Want to go out with me?”
The melted ice cream made his hand sticky. Han-gyeom blinked blankly. Someone once said that when something completely absurd happens, your mind goes blank and your reason just shuts down. That was exactly Han-gyeom’s state right now.
A stretch of silence passed. The sound of Han-gyeom’s eyes darting around felt strangely loud.
“W-why?”
“Hm?”
After that deep silence, the first thing Han-gyeom expressed was confusion. Even Won-hyeok must not have expected that, because his brows twitched.
“Do you… like me, sunbae?”
“Do you have to like someone first to date them?”
“Huh?”
“You can start liking them while you’re dating, can’t you?”
Is that how it works? Han-gyeom stared blankly into space for a moment. He really didn’t know. Because Han-gyeom was a natural monument-level case, a lifelong single who had never dated anyone even once in over twenty years of life. He’d never even had anything like a “situationship.” The only place Han-gyeom had ever encountered romance was in fictional worlds through books.
“And Han-gyeom, don’t you like me?”
Ugh. Han-gyeom flinched as if he’d been struck right in the center. He had been sticking close to sunbae a lot lately, but he had never imagined it had shown that obviously. Even if he wanted to deny it and say it was only admiration, it was too late to deny anything now that he had already hesitated.
“And I’m not the kind of person who has absolutely no sense of responsibility. I mean, I did that kind of thing to you after all.”
Responsibility? What was there that Won-hyeok needed to take responsibility for with him?
“But if we date, the condition is that we don’t interfere in each other’s lives. Still, if you don’t want to, then it can’t be hel—”
“I-I’d love that!”
Han-gyeom shoved his face right up close to Won-hyeok’s. Because of that, his clear, puppy-like eyes were visible in perfect detail through his hair.
“I-I want to date you, sunbae.”
He was being told he could become his bias’ lover. Shouldn’t he answer first and think later? It did leave him wondering why Won-hyeok wanted to date him when he didn’t even like him, and what he meant by responsibility too, but right now, those things weren’t all that important to Han-gyeom.
Han-gyeom nodded vigorously, like a puppy eagerly responding to its owner.
Han-gyeom always believed you had to be careful in everything, but when it came to someone he liked, his emotions always rushed ahead of reason.
“Okay, then.”
At Han-gyeom’s acceptance, the corner of Won-hyeok’s mouth lifted subtly.
