Whenever Daehwi had nothing better to do, he’d often find himself counting things. The lights on the ceiling winking steadily at him, the silver-stained cars parked across the street, the tapioca pearls swimming leisurely about in his wintermelon tea. He often thought such mediocre a pastime was a meaningless, mind-numbing exercise he reverted to in order only to distract himself, a defense mechanism he developed against the plodding monotony of noontime lectures.

He didn’t even care enough to recall the final count. He’d think of it once, turn it over in his head, then let the memory of it wander away, a leaf lost to the wind.

 Only because I have nothing better to do.

Today, however, was a glorious exception. A fifteen-minute break had yet to elapse between Class C and D performances, and Daehwi, as anyone can guess, was counting things. At each count he’d stop himself, repeat the number thrice, implant it into his memory before it had a chance to slip away.

One. The number of moles on Jinyoung’s face, just above his right eyebrow.

Daehwi and Jinyoung were at the Imugi Café, sitting across from each other at one of the tables farthest from the entrance. They were whiling away the time before it was Kuanlin’s turn to perform, snacking on a plate of marshmallows Jisung had offered them to soothe their insatiated tummies. Daehwi was productively making use of his respite to stare at Jinyoung as he spoke, trying to memorize the planes of his face, the curve of his jawline, the shape of his eyes, as if to prepare for an all-important exam.

“Daehwi-ya, are you listening?” Jinyoung’s voice cut through his head trip momentarily.

Daehwi nodded absently, hearing without understanding, his mind half-adrift in a faraway daydream.

He saw Jinyoung’s hand move upwards to scratch at the side of his head awkwardly. “Well, okay then.”

Two. The number of piercings on Jinyoung’s left ear.

Daehwi had never been into accessories, and neither did he particularly care for them on anyone else, but Jinyoung’s double-studded earring made for the perfect statement piece, drawing Daehwi’s eyes to his face, like magnets drawn helplessly to steel. Jinyoung stole a glance at him then, waiting impatiently for him to break the uncomfortable silence.

When Daehwi said nothing, Jinyoung fidgeted awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs together.

Fifteen, the number engraved on his ring, and four, the number of times he likes to twirl it around his index finger in one go.

His fingers are quite slender, Daehwi thought, recalling all of a sudden how they would wrap around his svelte frame as Jinyoung held him, how they quavered almost imperceptibly upon contact.

Daehwi retracted his hands from atop the table to settle them restlessly against his lap, a paltry attempt at keeping his hands to himself before they reached for Jinyoung of their own traitorous accord.

From now on, Bae Jinyoung, I want you to look only at me, his own voice rang in his ears, an undying, persistent echo of his earlier audacity. Daehwi cringed at the thought, slapping at his cheeks in embarrassment and mortification.

What were you thinking, Daehwi? Have you lost your mind?

“Yeah, something’s clearly not adding up here,” Jinyoung observed, eyeing Daehwi watchfully. “Your reactions aren’t syncing with my statements.”

Daehwi blinked at him in perplexity, uncertain of where their one-sided non-conversation had arrived at that point. “Were… were you saying something?”

“I was saying,” Jinyoung clarified. “That Jihoon-hyung should’ve cautioned us at the very least about his master-plan for the promotion exams.”

Jinyoung looked away, a blush creeping on his cheeks and stabbing at Daehwi’s heart inadvertently. “Now I need to douse myself in holy water because some idiot thought it was a bright idea to launch a full-scale surprise attack on everyone.”

Daehwi sighed. Twenty-seven. The number of times he’d spoken Jihoon’s name that past hour alone.

“And then,” Jinyoung continued, oblivious to Daehwi’s supreme disinterest on the matter, “You began slapping at your cheeks, as if you’ve gotten caught thinking of something highly inappropriate. You weren’t conceptualizing a sequel to that performance in your head, were you?”

Daehwi stared at him in bewilderment. “I, uhh… No.”

If there was a continuation to all this, Daehwi thought guiltlessly. I’d think of you instead of him.

Mental screenshots of Jinyoung baring his torso to the world flashed in his head in alarming succession. Beyond his limited control, Daehwi’s mind spiraled into thoughts of what Jinyoung’s abs might look like.

He did have them…right? He was a model after all, and…

Daehwi blushed a violent shade of pink at his shameless train of thought.

“I don’t like this one bit,” Jinyoung declared, narrowing his eyes at Daehwi. “if thoughts of Jihoon-hyung are eliciting those sorts of reactions from you, I swear I’ll—“

“It’s not,” Daehwi interrupted, shortstopping Jinyoung’s faulty logic before he could spout even more of the absurd. “It isn’t him.”

“Oh,” Jinyoung said, ashamed of his reckless assumptions. “Then who exactly…”

As realization dawned on his face, Daehwi looked away from him in a useless attempt to cloak his embarrassment at getting found out so easily.

A few seconds later, he risked a small peek at Jinyoung’s expression, whose cheek was reclined against his knuckle, one elbow resting casually on top of the table. Jinyoung’s eyes were locked on him, a knowing expression etched so overtly within them. A breath escaped Daehwi before he could manage to collect himself.

“Were you thinking of me, then?” Jinyoung asked him, a mischievous smile forming at the corners of his lips. “So what have I been wearing in your fantasies? Is it nice?”

Daehwi struggled to find his voice. “It’s… it’s nothing.”

Jinyoung’s perfectly-shaped brow shot upwards. “I’m wearing nothing?”

Daehwi’s eyes widened in shock at Jinyoung’s bold accusation. “That’s not what I meant!” he exclaimed, grabbing at the plate of marshmallows and chucking one of them at Jinyoung’s head. Jinyoung anticipated his movements somehow, catching the snack mid-flight before promptly tossing it into his mouth.

“Thanks,” Jinyoung said, grinning at him playfully. “I was getting kind of hungry.”

Daehwi pouted at him. “Meanie.”

At that moment, Jisung stepped out from behind the counter, a tray of drinks balancing precariously on hand.

“I sure do hope,” Jisung announced. “That the both of you haven’t been entering into a friendly competition on who can do a better job of littering the pristine floors of my café.” He walked towards their table, settling the tray down between them. The delicious smell of milk and coffee wafted instantaneously through the air, making Daehwi’s mouth water. “If you guys end up breaking something valuable in here because you’re just pitching the nearest thing your hands can find at each other, then have it be known that I’m deducting whatever the costs amount to from Jihoon’s salary.”

Jinyoung’s head whipped towards Jisung in alarm. “Oh god, no. He’ll ask for my head on a pike if that happens.”

“Sorry, Jisung-hyung,” Daehwi apologized. “Let a loyal customer off the hook for once. Jinyoung-ie was just… teasing me way too much.”

Jisung’s eyes narrowed into slits at him. “You went from Jinyoung-hyung to Jinyoung-ah to Jinyoung-ie within a twelve-hour span. Seriously, this relationship is progressing faster than the superhuman rapping from those BTS cyphers my boyfriend loves so much.”

“Is that so?” Jinyoung said. “I’ve hardly noticed a thing.”

“Well,” Jisung replied. “Good thing you’re as dense as a hollow block, because this guy’s been staring at you as if you’re about to vanish into a cloud of smoke at any minute.”

His gaze returned to Daehwi, who gulped nervously, unable to provide a counter-argument in his defense.

“Anyway,” Jisung continued, removing the drinks from atop the tray to abruptly redirect the topic. “One Honey Green Tea for Lee Daehwi, and one Iced Cappucino Special for Bae Jinyoung.”

“Thanks,” they said in unison. “Smells amazing.”

 Anything else you guys might want?” Jisung’s eyes moved back and forth between them, scanning each of their faces. “Apart from each other, that is.”

Daehwi’s eyes met Jinyoung’s briefly, before they turned away simultaneously in embarrassment. A few seconds elapsed in painful silence.

“So I’m talking to myself here? Okay, noted,” Jisung said then, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “I’ll just be in the kitchen if you guys need anything else. Though I would recommend against ordering cake; Those cloying looks you’ve been giving each other are more than enough to contract diabetes.”

Daehwi and Jinyoung laughed nervously, looking for a random spot on the walls to gape at in order not to make eye-contact.

“We weren’t uhm... staring at each other or anything,” Daehwi began, lying through his teeth. “You might’ve seen things wrong.”

“And we aren’t a couple, hyung,” Jinyoung said. He coughed awkwardly. “I mean… Not yet, but I…”

“Yeah right,” Jisung exclaimed, not buying into any of their excuses. “Report back to me in two weeks, and we’ll see about that.”

He placed one hand inside the pocket of his apron, and used the other to point to the kitchen. “Like I said, I’ll be in there if you guys need assistance. I’d hate to be in the line of fire while you guys ogle at each other for the rest of the evening.”

With that, he removed the tray and marched back to the kitchen, his footsteps echoing noisily across the café.

Jinyoung’s eyes followed Jisung as he left.

“What’s gotten into Jisung-hyung all of a sudden?” Jinyoung asked, looking to Daehwi for answers. “You think he’s jealous, or something?”

Daehwi shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe if we had some clear indication that he misses his boyfriend, then—“

“SUNGWOON-IEEE,” they heard Jisung wailing from within the kitchen. “COME BACK TO ME ALREADYYY.”

“Singing practice?” Jinyoung suggested, trying and failing to stifle a laugh.

“Nope,” Daehwi responded, failing just as miserably. “Clear indication that he misses his boyfriend.”

Jinyoung grinned at him then, and Daehwi was eternally grateful for the comic relief Jisung provided to break the growing tension between them.

“Speaking of which,” Jinyoung began, using the wafer sticks submerged in his drink to stir the whipped cream into messy circles. “Do you think Jisung-hyung’s going to audition for the Idol Project?”

“I hope so,” Daehwi said, reaching for his own drink. “I’ve heard him sing a couple of times, and he’s quite capable. The thing is, I’ve had to remain stealthy about listening in, as his stage fright is just about as serious an issue as yours.” Daehwi sipped at the tea tentatively, painfully aware of the weight of Jinyoung’s stare as he did so. He wiped at the stain his cherry lip-balm left on the plastic straw, letting the clashing tastes of tea and honey distract him from meaningless thoughts.

“Daehwi-ya,” Jinyoung said, the sound of his name on Jinyoung’s lips a pleasing lullaby to his ears. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Daehwi looked at him, noticing a pained expression cutting through his features. He heaved a small sigh, retrieving his purse from the depths of his pocket. He ped it, extracting a freshly minted silver coin.

“Here you go,” he said, sliding the coin across the table over to Jinyoung. “A penny for your thoughts.”

Jinyoung smiled at him. “More of these?” He inspected the coin carefully. “Ah, it seems the value of my thoughts have multiplied fivefold.”

“Inflation,” Daehwi shrugged nonchalantly. “It happens.”

Jinyoung grinned at him, pocketing the coin graciously. “Thanks, Daehwi-ya. I’ll return these to you later on.”

Daehwi shook his head. “No need for any of that. Besides, it’s my sincere wish to hear of the things that have been running through your mind lately.”

Jinyoung looked at him, hesitance and doubt evident in his expression. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about Lai Kuanlin.”

Daehwi blinked at him, utterly taken aback. For once, Jinyoung wanted to talk about someone whose name didn’t start with a P and end with an –ark Jihoon.

“Kuanlin?” Daehwi repeated, proceeding with caution. “What about him?”

Jinyoung paused for a long moment, looking dubious with regards to how he might attempt to frame his convoluted stream of thought. “What… what sort of person is he?”

Understanding of Jinyoung’s intentions came to him then. "You want to find out if he’s good enough for your best friend."

Jinyoung nodded. “I did tell you that I’m giving up on him, didn’t I? But that doesn’t mean I’ll hand him over to just anyone. I have to find out if this roommate of yours is worthy, because I know next to nothing about him, other than the fact that he’s maddeningly good-looking.”

Daehwi nodded, steeling himself inwardly. Just a little more, Daehwi. Endure for just a tiny bit more.

“A couple of months ago,” Daehwi began. “Kuanlin left Taiwan to pursue his dream of becoming a rapper. His parents strongly disapproved of such a hasty decision, thinking it was ill-advised and largely inconsiderate, as Kuanlin had a bright future ahead of him as a basketball superstar. He was the captain of their Junior High varsity, and led his team to a clean sweep of the finals last season. The league named him Most Valuable Player, and because of that had schools lining up before him, offering one scholarship after another. He immediately rejected every single one.”

Jinyoung folded his arms across his chest, visibly agitated. “I can’t tell if that makes him remarkably brave or disappointingly imbecilic,” he said, grabbing his drink and sipping uncomfortably. “He’s toeing the line between courage and stupidity.”

Jinyoung almost choked on his beverage. “WHAT? You’re telling me the guy’s a billionaire? Everyone knows what Tàiyáng Group is. Hell, half of the appliances we have at home are theirs.”

Daehwi nodded. “So as you can tell, much was at stake when he left. He was going to become a world-renowned athlete playing for one of the most prestigious schools in Taiwan, and then succeed his father’s company soon thereafter. And yet he left so dazzling a future behind to enter into a different industry altogether.”

Jinyoung nodded, still shell-shocked at the revelation. “So what does any of this have to do with Jihoon-hyung?”

Twenty-eight, Daehwi counted. If he makes it to thirty, will I reach my breaking point?

“What I’m getting at,” Daehwi continued, suppressing his innermost thoughts. “Is that Lai Kuanlin isn’t someone to take lightly. Despite everything he’s been through, how he’s lived his entire childhood like a marionette with no control over its own destiny, he’s managed to move past that to blaze a trail towards the dream he’s had for so long. If I were in his shoes, I’d have given up a long time ago.”

Daehwi looked at Jinyoung then, whose eyes were staring into the distance past him. “He’s an amazing person, Jinyoung-ah. He’s willing to do whatever it takes to succeed, to regain his parents’ trust… and he’s been through so much in spite of his youth. And with all those rumours spreading like wildfire about the privileges he’s been receiving from the school… half of the student population sees him as the enemy. Views him as an outsider. Regards him as a joke. The last thing he needs is another antagonist to enter into his life to bring him down and tell him he isn’t good enough.”

Daehwi took both of Jinyoung’s hands in his, squeezing them gently with reassurance. “Jihoon-hyung is lucky to have someone like Kuanlin by his side,” he said, meaning it. “So there’s no reason for you to worry about him. He’s completely deserving of your trust. If you have it in your heart to befriend him… then please do. Let him in. I’m sure he’d appreciate a friend like you.”

Guilt flashed in Jinyoung’s expression.

Along with heartache.

Along with pain.

And then, within a single heartbeat, an overwhelming rush of acceptance.

“I surrender,” Jinyoung said finally. “I really am no match for him. He has everything going for him, while I…” he sighed in defeat. “The only thing I can do is wallow in my own misery, because Jihoon-hyung chose to love him over me.”

Daehwi looked at their hands clasped together, Jinyoung’s gripping at his tightly as if to anchor to him for support.

It hurts, Daehwi thought to himself. To hear you speak of yourself as if you are nothing.

Because you’re everything to me, Jinyoung-ah. I wish you could see that.

“You don’t have to give up,” Daehwi whispered, half-wishing for Jinyoung not to hear. “If you love him, it doesn’t have to mean that letting go is the only answer.”

Jinyoung looked at him then, something unreadable in his expression. “Would you prefer that?” he asked. “If I continued to chase after him?”

Daehwi closed his eyes. What is the price to be paid for my honesty?

“No,” Daehwi said simply. “I wouldn’t like that at all.”

Jinyoung smiled at him, then withdrew both of his hands, releasing them slowly from Daehwi’s grasp. He fished his pocket for Daehwi’s coin.

“Here,” he said, handing it back to Daehwi. “I think I’ll cash in on this one. Your turn, Daehwi-ya.”

Daehwi looked at Jinyoung, whose eyes were regarding him with so tender an expression, that Daehwi thought his fragile heart might implode that very instant.

“I don’t know where to begin,” he admitted. “There’s so much I have yet to say.”

And I’m afraid that if you hear them, I’ll end up scaring you away.

“What are you afraid of?” Jinyoung asked him, as if to see straight through to his core. “If you wish, just go ahead and tell me everything.”

“If that’s the case,” Daehwi offered. “Then ask me anything, and I’ll provide you with as genuine an answer as I can manage.”

Jinyoung leaned back against his chair. “Are you sure you’re up for that?”

Daehwi gulped nervously. He felt as if he was skating on thin ice, and at any moment a gaping chasm could open beneath his feet and swallow him whole.

“I’m sure,” he said anyway. “So go ahead before I change my mind.”

Jinyoung paused for a moment, deep in thought before he finally cleared his throat to speak. “Alright then. Since we’re on the topic of Lai Kuanlin…” Jinyoung turned his attention to the glass of cappuccino sitting on the table before him. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, unable to look Daehwi in the eye. “I remember you mistakenly admitting to me that you liked him.”

Daehwi nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

Jinyoung gaped at him, blanking out completely. “Oh. Uhm… did you mean that romantically, or…”

Daehwi stirred at the contents of his tea with his straw, poking absently at the cubes of ice.

“My feelings for Kuanlin are purely platonic.”

Daehwi almost swore he heard Jinyoung breath an audible sigh of relief. “Right. That makes sense. Because a while ago, you uhm…”

Oh no, Daehwi thought. Please don’t remind me.

“You were saying something about wanting me to look at you, and helping me discover what it means to have my feelings returned.”

Daehwi bit hard at his lip, embarrassed beyond belief. He wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of slime and disappear into the cracks on the floor.

“You did say that, right?” Jinyoung pressed on. “And I, uhm… I may or may not have taken that to mean that maybe there was a chance that –“

“I like you,” Daehwi interrupted, delivering the final blow himself. Things will end quicker this way.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung said. “That you liked me.”

He doesn’t understand, Daehwi thought. Not what I’ve been trying to tell him.

Then help him Daehwi-ya, a voice within him urged. Just like you said you would.

Daehwi closed his eyes momentarily.

Listen Daehwi-ya, the voice pressed on. Listen to the melody of your lovesick heart.

Feel its beat, dance to its rhythm.

And then play it. For all the world to hear.

“Daehwi-ya, are you alright?” He heard Jinyoung say.

Because the world is your stage, and the rest of us your admiring spectators.

“I like you,” Daehwi repeated, louder this time. “So if you were thinking that I was just joking around and teasing you when I said those things… you’ve misread me. Because I really do like you, and I’ve liked you for a very long time.”

He looked Jinyoung in the eye, who was gawking at him, absolutely dumbfounded.

Daehwi held his gaze, watching for one excruciatingly long moment how a rosy flush of color spread upwards from Jinyoung’s neck to his cheeks, all the way to his ears.

“I, uhm…” Jinyoung began, still in a daze after Daehwi’s startling declaration. “Did I… did I just receive an outright confession?”

Daehwi turned away from him then. “Don’t ask me to repeat myself.”

Jinyoung nodded, his mouth still agape, a thunderstruck expression still plastered on his face. “I mean, the idea that you might’ve liked me instead of Kuanlin did cross my mind, but I… I thought it didn’t make much sense if we… we just met, and everything, and I…”

Jinyoung rumpled his hair in frustration. “Ah, sorry. I’m a mess.”

Daehwi gave him time to collect himself, beginning to wonder if he had made the right decision in confessing to Jinyoung out of the blue. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t meant to dump everything onto you in one go.”

Jinyoung shook his head. “No, I… thanks for telling me. It must’ve been hard, having to keep things to yourself.”

Daehwi smiled to himself sadly. “Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy.”

A moment of arduous silence passed between them, neither one saying a word.

“Daehwi-ya,” Jinyoung said then, breaking through the quietude. “Am I allowed to ask one more question, or have I exhausted the capabilities of your five-hundred-won coin?”

Daehwi smiled at Jinyoung, thankful for an excuse to ease the suffocating tension. “Just one more.”

Jinyoung hesitated for a brief moment. “Why… did you fall in love with me?”

“Why not?” Daehwi responded simply. “You’re perfect.”

Jinyoung laughed softly, his hands moving to cover his mouth. “Ah, I’m used to receiving compliments, but this is getting kind of embarrassing.”

Daehwi tilted his head slightly in confusion. “Should I stop?”

Jinyoung shook his head. “No, but… the effect your words have on me are quite strange. Feels nice.”

Daehwi grinned at him in satisfaction. “Good to know,” he said. “One small victory at a time is enough.”

Jinyoung looked at him, and it was a look that until then, Daehwi had only ever seen directed at someone else. “I’ll accept them,” Jinyoung said, each word pounding Daehwi’s heart into stillness. “Your feelings. Thank you, Daehwi-ya. They mean a lot to me.”

As the words left Jinyoung’s lips, Daehwi’s heart leaped out of his chest, soared through the sky and shot straight through the clouds in boundless euphoria.

I’ll accept them, Jinyoung’s words rang in his ears. Your feelings.

“Ah,” Daehwi said. “I don’t… I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

Something wet streaked his cheek, and Jinyoung reached across the table then, wiping Daehwi's tears away with the sleeve of his shirt. “Sorry, Daehwi-ya. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Daehwi smiled at him, pressing his cheek against the palm of Jinyoung’s hand. Jinyoung smiled back, and Daehwi wished he could capture moments like that, preserve them in glass jars and keep them alive for all eternity.

“You guys done filming a k-drama over there?” Jisung called out from behind the counter. “Just got a text from Sungwoon. Break time is over and Class D performances are about to start.”

Jinyoung and Daehwi exchanged glances, nodding once.

“You’ll be kind to him, won’t you?” Daehwi asked, standing up from his seat. “Kuanlin needs our support.”

Jinyoung patted his head affectionately. “Then let’s cheer on him together.”

Jinyoung extended a hand towards him, and Daehwi took it without hesitation, thanking his heartstring melody silently for playing him so wonderful a song.

“Just go for it Jinyoung-aaah,” Daehwi urged, moments after Kuanlin’s performance ended. They were standing awkwardly to the side, waiting for Kuanlin to reappear from backstage. “He did well, didn’t he? It can’t be that hard to offer him a word of congratulations.”

“Yeah, but…” Jinyoung began. “Won’t he freak out if I just approach him all of a sudden?”

Daehwi rolled his eyes. “You’re going to tell him he did a great job,” he said. “Not try to convince him aliens exist and are threatening to take over the planet.”

Jinyoung snorted. “I bet he’s the type to buy into that sort of absurd