The two of them strolled leisurely. The occasional sounds of children giggling or a small voice asking, “Mom, what kind of flower is this?” played like background music.
All around them were nothing but plants. There were no flashy attractions or distractions. But just walking slowly while holding Seung-hyeon’s hand was more than enough joy for Seon-woo. This, he thought, was what a real date should feel like. Perhaps passersby found it odd to see two tall men holding hands—one even tucking their joined hands inside a single pocket—but neither of them seemed to care in the slightest.
When Seung-hyeon and Seon-woo had finished walking through the entire greenhouse and reached the exit, they spotted that child from earlier again. Seung-hyeon stopped in his tracks, and naturally, so did Seon-woo, who had been about to walk out.
In front of the exit stood a cotton candy machine, with a large sign taped on it reading: Make Your Own Cotton Candy – W5000. A child stood there holding a stick, apparently in the middle of trying it out for herself.
“Mom! It’s not working right!”
The kid, grunting with effort, called out to her mother in a sulky voice. She stood a short distance away, filming her with her phone. But when she asked, “Want some help?” the child shook his head. All the while, strands of cotton candy spun out inside the machine like threads of silk, but perhaps due to her clumsiness, the child missed most of it. The owner, looking on with sympathy, offered guidance.
“You’ve gotta tilt the stick a little more, like this. Like this, Princess!”
“Like this?”
Even then, the kid stubbornly refused the owner’s help and insisted on doing it all by herself. The owner kept adding more sugar in his own way, but the child still missed so much that the cotton candy never really grew in size.
“Mom! Mine’s so small…”
“Wanna try again?”
“No… we promised just once… I’ll accept it.”
With a dejected voice, the kid walked over and sat beside her mom, saying something surprisingly mature. Then, as if to savor every bite, she began nibbling carefully at the tiny ball of cotton candy. Seung-hyeon and Seon-woo had watched the entire process from start to finish. Seon-woo murmured softly, with a mix of fondness and sympathy on his face.
“Aw. Still, good for him. Knows how to accept the result.”
Then he turned toward Seung-hyeon. The only reason Seon-woo hadn’t moved on was because Seung-hyeon stood rooted in place, as if fixed there. In a way, it was entirely because of Seung-hyeon that they had watched it all. Seon-woo couldn’t quite read his expression. Was he just watching because the kid making cotton candy looked cute? But even after the cotton candy was finished, his feet still hadn’t budged. Was it the act of making the cotton candy itself that he found interesting?
Maybe. Compared to Seon-woo, Seung-hyeon was definitely the more curious type. With a faint, teasing smile, Seon-woo asked,
“What, you wanna try it too?”
Naturally, it had been a joke—but instead of laughing it off, Seung-hyeon turned his head toward Seon-woo with a completely serious expression.
“Yes.”
“Huh?”
Caught off guard, Seon-woo let out a dumb-sounding response. Still dead serious, Seung-hyeon looked back toward the cotton candy machine and said,
“Doesn’t it look fun?”
Seon-woo found it a bit ridiculous, but there was no reason to stop him if he wanted to do it. He wasn’t the type to say anything like, “A grown man doing this… seriously?” In fact, the brazen and confident way Seung-hyeon seemed to decide “I’m doing this too” after watching an elementary school girl do it—it was almost endearing.
“Then you should go for it.”
Did I bring any cash?
With that, Seon-woo nodded readily and pulled out his wallet, like a dad forking over money to let his kid try something. Thankfully, he had a few fifty-thousand won bills tucked inside. As the two tall men whispered to each other and stepped up to the cotton candy machine, the owner looked momentarily flustered, but quickly recovered and asked with a straight face,
“Which prince will be spinning today?”
“This prince, please.”
Luckily, the owner played along without missing a beat. Seon-woo pointed toward Seung-hyeon with a smile and handed over the bill.
“Sorry, I only have a fifty…”
“Oh, no problem. Got plenty of change.”
Seon-woo took the neatly counted 45,000 won in change and stepped back with his arms crossed, watching Seung-hyeon. The owner treated him no differently than the kids he’d previously called “princess” or “prince” and began explaining the process.
“Alright, Prince. Hold the stick, and once the cotton candy starts to come out, you want to keep a little distance and tilt the stick like this, and spin it. Just like this. Got it?”
“Yes, I’ll try.”
Seung-hyeon nodded earnestly beside the owner demonstrating. He easily stood over 180cm, and even taller than Seon-woo—probably close to 190. Watching a man of that height holding a cotton candy stick and nodding politely? It wasn’t just Seon-woo who would find the image adorable.
…Or is it just me?
At this point, Seon-woo couldn’t even tell if he was blinded by affection or not. The machine switched on, and as the blue sugar Seung-hyeon had picked was poured in, threads of cotton candy quickly began to spin out—just like earlier.
Seung-hyeon spun his wrist with practiced ease, like someone who’d worked a cotton candy booth for a decade. The sugary threads clung tightly to the stick, winding into a shape that actually looked pretty impressive. It became clear that making cotton candy was far more of a skill than it first seemed.
The owner, visibly entertained, added another scoop of sugar. The cotton candy grew larger and larger, quickly spiraling out of control. By the time the machine shut off, a fluffy cloud bigger than his head was perched on the stick in his hand.
Holding the massive cotton candy, Seung-hyeon turned and walked toward Seon-woo. He looked almost bashful, like a child showing off a certificate to their parents, and gently held the cotton candy out toward him.
“How is it, Hyung?”
“Mm, not bad.”
Seon-woo, debating whether he should go full dad-mode and clap dramatically like he was praising a seven-year-old, held back and gave a reserved answer instead. Just then, from behind them, came a hushed voice—one that was clearly trying to whisper but didn’t quite succeed. The little girl, still nibbling her small cotton candy while watching them, murmured:
“Mom, that oppa’s really good at making cotton candy…”
“I think his is way bigger than mine…”
“Y-yeah. I guess he’s good at it.”
The child seemed to be trying her best to keep her voice down, but being a kid, her whispering skills weren’t the greatest—it reached Seon-woo’s ears perfectly. The mother, clearly caught off guard, responded in a low, awkward voice that sounded as stiff as it was unconvincing.
When Seon-woo looked at Seung-hyeon, he was smiling, his expression oddly amused.
What is he thinking? Just as Seon-woo wondered, Seung-hyeon suddenly raised his voice.
“Ah, but I actually wanted to make a yellow one. I picked blue by mistake. What should I do?”
It was so obviously for someone else to hear. Seon-woo finally understood what he was up to and let out a soft chuckle. Matching his energy, he also raised his voice slightly to respond.
“You were going to do yellow?”
“Yeah. I don’t really like blue. What should I do?”
“I don’t like blue either. Bit of a problem, huh? Can’t just throw it out.”
The exchange was transparent, and Seon-woo leaned into the act. When Seung-hyeon turned toward the child and her mom, the mother gave a deeply embarrassed smile, clearly realizing what was going on.
“If it’s alright… would you like to take this one? I haven’t taken a single bite.”
The girl, who had earlier said she’d accept her small cotton candy, now looked visibly tempted by the fluffy masterpiece. She tried to hide it, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away. After gently refusing the mom’s offer to pay for it, Seung-hyeon gave Seon-woo a quick glance, signaling it was time to go.
Cute move, seriously.
Seon-woo let out a small laugh and crossed his arms again, saying,
“Now I’m kinda craving one too.”
“Haha! Should I make one for you, Hyung?”
“Yeah, make me one. Yellow this time.”
