A lot of people think Jiho’s the kind who’ll frequent bars and night clubs when he’s free. They’re wrong. He’ll much rather spend that time alone at home, curled up on the bed with a book and music softly playing in the background. Just because he has a penchant for dyeing his hair blond, spotting multiple ear piercings, and having tattoos peek out from low necklines and short sleeved tees doesn’t mean he’s a partying sort, even though he’s actually seated in a bar right now. It’s an exception, not the norm, but with the way the people around him are giving him looks, it’s clear that they think he’s a regular patron. As if. He’s only here because Kyung wouldn’t stop whining about needing a wingman, and had forcibly dragged Jiho out of their apartment despite his vehement protests.

“You need to relax,” Kyung says under his breath, jabbing Jiho slightly in his ribs even as his eyes scan the place for some guy he had probably chatted up one of the many nights he comes to this place.

“You’ve already dragged me here, don’t tell me what to do,” Jiho mutters, fingers lightly tracing the lip of his glass of something that’s not even alcohol because he’s a lightweight despite looking like he can hold his liquor well.

“Sheesh, in a bad mood, aren’t you?” Kyung trades back lightly, not terribly concerned that Jiho’s moody, or that he’s the reason for it.

Jiho doesn’t bother replying, just rolls his eyes. Kyung knows him long and well enough to know the answer without asking anyway. As Jiho considers his escape options in his mind, Kyung’s head finally stops moving, eyes fixed on some far corner of the room. Before Jiho gets a chance to say anything, Kyung gets up to go. He wonders if he’s a bad friend if he slips off right now and abandons Kyung here. Probably not, because Kyung’s already talking to the guy he had been looking for, and doesn’t look like he’ll miss Jiho even if he’s gone.

He’s getting up to go, when someone taps him on the shoulder. Jiho turns, half-expecting it to be Kyung even though his best friend hardly ever finishes conversations in the bar so quickly. It isn’t. It’s a tall guy, about the same height as Jiho, with longish honey brown hair and sharp but delicate features.

“Whatever it is you’re offering, I’m not interested,” Jiho states, knowing he probably comes off as rude, but he just really wants to get out of the crowded place and head home where he can be alone. The guy looks surprised, but then his mouth turns up in amusement. It isn’t the look of dejection Jiho expects (not that he had intended to hurt the guy’s feelings), so Jiho adds, “If it’s a one-night stand you’re after, I don’t do those. And anyway, I’m leaving.”

The guy blinks at him for a second, before he suddenly bends over in laughter. Jiho’s not quite sure what’s so amusing about the situation, but he figures he can just go since he’d already made his position clear. But the guy slips a hand around his wrists, only lightly encircling it, no pressure on his skin at all. Between wiping the tears from laughing and taking in large wheezing breathes to calm himself, the guy manages to say, “What kind of ego do you have, that you’ll think I’m here to ask you for a one-night stand?”

Jiho doesn’t think the guy’s looking for an answer, figuring it to be a rhetorical question, but then a long pause passes, and the guy gives him a questioning look. Jiho doesn’t have a good answer, so he just says, “This is a gay bar, right? Don’t these kinds of things happen often here? So I kind of just assumed...”

“Assumed that I’m trying to pick you up?” The guy laughs again, softer this time. His eyes are still glistening from the tears of laughter, not that Jiho’s noticing. “Well, sorry if I gave you that impression, but I just wanted to say hi, because I thought I recognized you. We’re from the same department in university.”

“What’s an architecture student doing in a bar on a Friday night?” Jiho asks reflexively, even though it’s probably a stupid question because he’s one himself, and he’s clearly in the bar too, isn’t he?

“If you’re referring to the general opinion that architecture students have no life, no time to sleep and are only ever found in their design studios, I’ll have you know that that’s not true. Though of course, that you’re here yourself should be indication enough,” the guy replies easily. “Oh, and I’m Jaehyo, by the way. Fourth year.”

“…Jiho, second year,” Jiho hears himself say, more out of politeness than anything.

“Yeah, I know. You’re kind of famous even amongst the fourth years. The professors and students always talk about how amazing your designs are.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Jiho replies, not entirely sure what Jaehyo’s agenda is. He doesn’t want to say more in case it gets him caught in a longer conversation. The one he’s in right now is already impeding his escape plan.

“Anyway, that’s all. I just came to say hi, and I’ve done that. You look like you’re rushing to go off somewhere so I won’t bother you anymore,” Jaehyo says with a small nod, disappearing back into the crowd. Suddenly alone again, Jiho spends all of one second checking that Kyung’s still occupied, before he makes his way out of the place.

It is only when he’s back in his apartment does Jiho considers what had just happened in the bar. He’s not too concerned about the fact that someone from school had seen him in a gay bar. There are plenty of people who aren’t heteroual in the architecture department, and those who are tend to be relatively more understanding and accepting than his peers in high school had been. Instead, he’s curious why a senior would spend the effort to say hi to him, particularly a senior he doesn’t think he’s really seen around school, even though Jaehyo had said he’s from the same department. He doesn’t spend too much time thinking about it though, because he’s starting to get sleepy, although he manages to find Jaehyo on Instagram after searching for his name and the university’s name on Naver. It’s just a bunch of selfies, with one or two artistic black and white photos of architecture thrown in, nothing very special, and Jiho falls asleep with his phone in his hand while scrolling through Jaehyo’s Instagram.

 

 

It’s about a week later when Jiho’s walking past some of the panels of choice student works hanging on the corridors leading to the second year studio that he realizes that one of them is designed by an “Ahn Jaehyo”. The school displays the best works of each semester around the building, and usually Jiho doesn’t pay attention to them, because what’s considered good student works isn’t always actually good architecture. Most of the time they just choose the designs with fancily rendered perspectives, complete with artistic filters and dreamy backgrounds that obscure the design more than they elucidate the building’s intention, but Jiho doesn’t believe in choosing packaging over content. Jaehyo’s design, however, isn’t one of those that favours style over substance, Jiho realizes as he studies the simple but informative drawings of building plans and sections. There’s actually something that might be an exciting, if quiet sort of space in the building that Jaehyo’s designed, and Jiho wonders why a competent student like Jaehyo might be interested in his works. Sure, Jiho has some interesting ideas and designs, and unlike his course mates, he isn’t afraid to try different building forms, different ways of designing, different things. But he’s nowhere as competent as a fourth year, and his skills as a designer still need a lot of improvement. Jiho’s mulling over this while standing in front of Jaehyo’s drawings when Jaehyo himself suddenly appears.

“I see you’ve found my work,” Jaehyo says quietly from a little behind Jiho, and he almost jumps away in surprise. Jaehyo probably picked up on the slight panic in his eyes, because he smiles a bit, then adds, “Sorry if I scared you. I’ve been told I walk quietly.”

Jiho nods slightly, hoping he doesn’t look so startled now, putting on a neutral face. But then he remembers that his neutral face is kind of scary (“Resting face”, Kyung had called it), so he tries for a slight smile, only stopping when he realizes he looks a bit creepy from the reflection of the glass in the frame of Jaehyo’s panels. Resuming his neutral face, Jiho says, “It’s okay, I was just distracted and didn’t hear you walking down the corridor. And I wasn’t specifically looking for your work. I just happened to be browsing the projects while walking.”

“I see. Well, I’m going to guess you’ve looked at my work though, since you’re standing in front of it. What do you think about my design?” Jaehyo asks.

Jiho thinks for a while, trying to put his thoughts into words, “It’s good. I like how you’ve designed the inside of the building to very clearly show your intention of making the library a quiet space for contemplation but also one for people to socialize. But I thought the façade of the building is a bit discordant with the things going on inside… It’s too…”

“Generic?” Jaehyo suggests.

“Hmm, not really. It’s almost too… aesthetically pleasing. Pretty, like it’s attracting too much attention to itself even though it’s supposed to be a quiet space inside,” Jiho corrects with a slight frown. He hopes Jaehyo’s not the kind to take critiques badly.

“Huh,” Jaehyo pauses, “I’ve never thought about it that way. That’s an interesting and perhaps not entirely wrong observation.”

Jiho doesn’t reply because Jaehyo doesn’t look like he’s listening, the way his eyes are glancing into something in the distance. Jiho wonders if Jaehyo’s thinking about something else.

 

 

In the cafeteria for lunch, Jiho sees Dean and Minho with a bunch of other second years at a table eating, but they’re already almost done, so he doesn’t bother joining them. Jiho just nods when he passes by. They return the nod, not asking why he’s not sitting with them. Somewhere a little far back, Jiho spots Jay, a senior, eating with another guy he presumes is also a senior since he doesn’t recognize the face. Jay doesn’t see him, so he doesn’t greet the guy. Jiho sets his tray on the table, then arranges his long jacket so it won’t crumple too much when he sits. He knows quite a lot of the students in architecture, both his batch mates and some seniors, but they’re more acquaintances than real friends. They say hi, they hang out; on the surface Jiho seems like he’s might even be a social butterfly with the number of people he casually knows, but really, he’s only drifting around them because he’s not that close to anyone. The one person he’s even remotely close to is Kyung, and that’s mostly because they’ve known each other since before middle school. But Kyung’s not in architecture, he’s in Math and he uses the cafeteria nearer to the Math block, so Jiho usually ends up eating lunch alone. It works out better this way anyway. He can quickly eat so he can get back to studio to do his work without having to entertain people.

Jiho’s started on his beanpaste stew when someone sets a tray down opposite him. Wondering if it’s Jay stopping to say hi, Jiho doesn’t expect to see Jaehyo’s pretty face, but it’s the same pair of slightly round eyes, tall nose and symmetrical lips he had just seen a hour or so ago. Jaehyo takes a seat when Jiho doesn’t object, digging into his food without a word. It’s only after Jiho’s halfway through his food does he ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Eating, like you,” Jaehyo replies between spoonfuls of soup. He gives a shrug like it’s nothing, but Jiho doesn’t think seeing Jaehyo twice in a day is a coincidence, especially not after Jaehyo went out of his way to say hi to him at the bar a week ago. He tells Jaehyo as much, not particularly caring if the guy thinks he’s egoistic, but all Jaehyo does is give him a pretty smile, “I guess you’re not that slow after all.”

If it implies what Jiho thinks it does, it’ll probably mean that Jaehyo had probably approached him the other day at the bar wanting a one-night stand or something of the sort. But when he asks Jaehyo if that was his intention from the start, Jaehyo just stares at him, before saying, “You’re weird, you know that? I’m trying to get to know you, not get in your pants.”

Jiho feels vaguely bad for thinking that, until Jaehyo adds, “Well, I mean, it’s not like I don’t want to, but I’m more interested in knowing you as a person first.”

He’s not sure what to reply to that, but the warmth rushing to his cheeks suggest that maybe Jaehyo will pick up on what he’s feeling anyway.

 

 

Despite the awkward start, Jiho finds himself letting Jaehyo into his life. At first it’s because Jaehyo keeps appearing, maybe not daily because they’re both too busy with studio work to do that, but often enough that Jiho thinks he’s seen Jaehyo more in the past month than he’s seen Kyung, despite Kyung being his apartment mate. Then Jiho finds himself seeking out Jaehyo for his opinion on his design or asking for help on technical things like Autocad or Archicad, drawing and modelling programs he’s used before but isn’t the most skilled with. They get comfortable enough to be something more than acquaintances, maybe even friends, trading easy conversation when they pass each other down the corridor or in the cafeteria.

Sometimes Jaehyo orders in supper when they both stay late in the studio in school to do work, paying for both their food. When Jiho mentions that he can pay his own share, that Jaehyo doesn’t need to treat, Jaehyo replies that it’s his duty as a hyung. Jaehyo doesn’t mention anything about what he had said that time during lunch, about wanting to know Jiho better, or that he might want to get into Jiho’s pants. He doesn’t make any moves either, never stepping over the boundaries of a senior or friend, so Jiho’s not sure what Jaehyo’s thinking exactly. What had Jaehyo meant when he said he wanted to get to know Jiho? Did he mean it as just a friend, or had he meant something more? Was he joking about wanting to get into Jiho’s pants? Jiho doesn’t know.

It vaguely bothers him that he doesn’t know, but Jiho doesn’t dwell too long on it. It isn’t the most important thing in his life anyway, because he’s more focused on architecture. Having first encountered architecture through the writings of Rem Koolhaas, Jiho started seriously contemplating becoming an architect in high school, reading extensively on the history of modern and Korean architecture after he came to realize that he has an insatiable interest in the field. Although he’s in one of the best architecture universities in Korea, it’s only the start of Jiho’s eventual dream to becoming an architect who designs great buildings, and he has a lot to learn in the meantime. It’s good that the professors and students think he has a flair for design, but Jiho wants to constantly improve even if others think he’s good, because that’s how he’ll achieve what he wants. Jiho honestly thinks and believes this, but he’s also only human, so at times when he gets stuck on design, like right now, his mind reverts to more mundane things, and Jiho finds himself wondering what Jaehyo thinks of him.

It’s at this moment that Jaehyo comes into Jiho’s studio, the creak of the door opening announcing his arrival. He looks up, sees a tired Jaehyo, and thinks that he probably looks equally drained. It’s the middle of the night now, long past the last bus home and Jiho’s not exactly looking forward to having to sleep on the hard tables again. He tries his best to manage his time well so he doesn’t have to stay over that often (mostly because Kyung nags at him, saying that it’s bad for his body and doesn’t shut up until Jiho promises to sleep properly at least 5 days a week) but Jiho sometimes forgets the time when he’s designing. He stretches his stiff back, saying, “Guess you’re staying overnight in studio today like me, huh?”

Jaehyo gives him a weak smile, probably