Feel your love

"This is delicious," Seungyoon says, munching a big spoon of food, another one ready to go inside his wide-open mouth. Seunghoon chuckles at the view.

"That's exactly why I own a restaurant," he rubs his hair with affection, still smiling at his silly baby-looking, little brother, spoon-feeding himself.

"I've heard you are hiring?" he asks after swallowing another big chunk of food. Seunghoon nods; news travels fast. "I can put an add on the paper," he offers, smiling, "as a thank you for feeding me," he quickly adds before he can ask how much it will cost. After all, Seungyoon has been getting food for free for years - the best perk of living with him.

"No need to, I've already someone in mind, but thanks," Seunghoon confesses, a proud smile spreading on his face. Seungyoon raises his eyebrow with curiosity. "Kang Younghyung. We studied abroad together. Great chef, a better person,” he explains and Seungyoon nods, recalling all the years he was left alone surviving out of Yakults and packeted ramyon. "He is back from Canada, looking for a new job and I thought I would offer. He said yes, so he will start in a week, once he finds a place to crash," Seunghoon explains, matter-of-factly. Seungyoon listen to him, fascinated; he has never heard that name before, the time Seunghoon spent away remains as a piece of a secret that he keeps even from his brother.

"If he is your friend, he can stay with us," Seungyoon suggests, helpful as ever. Seunghoon looks around the house with a side smirk.

"Yes, he can sleep on the floor, with Thor and Haute," he laughs, dismissing his offers. Seungyoon is too kind but they barely have space and, though they will spend more time working than at home, it is important than Younghyung has a comfortable space to look forward.

“How is he?” Seungyoon asks while Seunghoon is busy washing the pans. Their kitchen is always a mess, Seunghoon always cooking new dishes for Seungyoon to try before adding them on the restaurant carte. Seunghoon hums, hands wet and bubbly with soap, spreading it on his chin when he rubs it, thinking, remembering.

“A bit like you,” he provides, a concentrating look. “Yes, a bit like you,” and his smile is sweet, covered in white.

When Younghyung comes to work the next day, Seunghoon is taken aback. He wasn’t expecting him this soon but gets up from his seat to welcome him.

"I've got a place. More like I got a contact," he explains, answering to Seunghoon’s questioning glance, gently hugging him on the process. "You look great, man!" he continues, patting his back, affectionated. Younghyung looks the same he remembers, smaller than him, young, free, with tiny eyes that are very similar to Seungyoon’s, the same kind of smile in a very different pair of lips. Seunghoon nods, content to have him on board. Kang Younghyung revolves around the office, taking a glance to all that there is to see: he spots new receipts and, oh, he wants to try them already, he wants to put his hands on the kitchen, begin cooking again.

"So you are ready to start?" Seunghoon smiles at him, one last signature on the contract that Younghyung firms with a flourish.

"Absolutely!" He is eager. He has missed the feeling of contentment after feeding people. This is his new start, his new beginning and he is delighted to do it next to a friend, next to Seunghoon.

He walks around the kitchen and the dining area: it’s a fancy restaurant, created with great taste; since the owner is Busan born, it’s mermaid themed, so there are a few paintings and fishing nets and some other maritime items, which add some classy feeling to the dreamy general view. Brian immediately likes what he sees - the decorations, the dishes, the sophisticated but fairy-tale atmosphere that the room gives.

Once the visit is done he is introduced to the rest of the staff members. Since it’s a small place there is just one waiter that goes by the name of Kim Jinwoo, who fits perfectly there and a kitchen helper named Yoon Dowoon.

“He eats more than he helps,” Seunghoon jokes, rubbing his mop of hair. “He is our little pet and it’s great at doing the dishes,” he says, brightly smiling at his team. “Do you think you will manage?” he asks, “there is not much work going on, so maybe the kitchen will be too small for your taste?” he says, nervous; indeed, the kitchen area is limited but he is sure he will enjoy it in there; Younghyung is sure that Seunghoon doesn’t really need another cook but he obligated to hire him when he contacted him, asking for a job. He just hopes that Seunghoon won’t have problems paying purveyors and the other staff members due to his big heart and generosity – and he still remembers all the times Seunghoon has helped him out, he owns him too much already and he is not 30 yet.

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” he assures Seunghoon, “I’m tired of the exigencies of the big, corporative places, so this is perfect for me,” he smiles, “small, cosy, familiar. Can’t find anything more suitable,” his voice is assuring, beaming at them all. He is convinced that this place is where he belongs – these new people he just met and that already feel like home.

“You have landed on the perfect restaurant, then!” Jinwoo exclaims, agreeing, hands pressed together, delighted, “because these are the vibe Seunghoon was looking for when he first opened it. IC, Inner Circle,” he explains, his arms embracing all that is to see, making Seunghoon blush. The diner area is small but comfortable, with only ten tables decorated with blue baby-flowers in mermaid’s tails vases, walls the colour of the ocean, shells and ships hanging everywhere – intimate, cosy, bright and elegant altogether. “It is designed for the clients’ circle of closest friends and family. As you can see, we only have a few tables, it’s not a space for big parties,” he ends, smiling proudly.

In no time Younghyung gets used to working at IC; it’s easy despite having a very complete menú of very different fish dishes and that Seunghoon is always improving and changing the recipes, experimenting with ingredients and leaving a mess for Dowoon to clean and for him to try. Dowoon is always swirling around, a smile on his puppy-like face and he understands quickly why he is the official restaurant’s pet: he is innocent and lovely, with energy hard to resist. On the other hand, Jinwoo is too handsome to avoid, with liquid, copper eyes and a smile able to burn the sun. And when he wears the uniform, all navy and silver, he is a replica of a painting: wonderful, amazing. And he is so kind and helpful – sometimes he sneaks into the kitchen to give them a hand despite that he is also on the dining area serving the clients and at the bar. Hardworking, diligent, talented, the best staff he could have asked for and, on top of that, they all have welcomed him with open arms. And then there is Seunghoon; he hasn’t changed, he still is as he remembers: kind, caring, a giver.

There is not much to do at work because Seunghoon does it all – and he ends as the errand boy alongside Dowoon and Jinwoo.

“You have to get used to the Korean style,” he has said and Younghyung had bitten his tongue to keep the words safe because IC has not a single Korean dish. So he mainly helps Dowoon with his cores and recollects vegetables from the back garden. Seunghoon does the cooking, he does the admiring, all shades of colours plumping on his bones whenever his eyes meet with Seunghoon’s: he is even more handsome than his memories recall: tall, slender, a keeper, with a side smirk brighter than a thunder, lightening the night of his dreams. When he came back to Korea, with absolutely nothing after losing it all, Seunghoon gave him an opportunity, saved his life. Just like in Canada, when he was lonely, the strange, the odd, the abandoned by the others. Seunghoon stood by him, never leaving his side until the day of his graduation. By then, Younghyung was so fascinated, amazed by Seunghoon that he had to stay behind just to learn a little more, just to become better, just so he could stand by Seunghoon, be enough to him. Because Seunghoon makes his heart flip, beating upstream. Because he is not good enough for Seunghoon, he will never be – because Seunghoon is way ahead of his league, he is too good to be true, too wonderful.

There is a boy on the door. Tall, lanky, messy hair and round, nerdy glasses, pushing his way in. With his big, curious eyes, takes a look around, smiling. He totally looks out of place, staring at the walls, walking around the tables, fascinated.

"So here is where Brian works!" he exclaims, still glancing at the room, the colour drained from his face. Jinwoo raises a brow, confused, before realising who he is referring to.

"Are you a friend of chef Kang?" Jinwoo wonders, sparkling eyes looking at him. Of course, he has to, he stands out, a completely American – he has the accent, the vibes, all checked-up.

"You can say so since he lives at my place. He told me to came and have dinner for free as his early renting payment," he explains in a rush of mixed Korean and English. "I'm Jae, by the way," he introduces himself, shaking Jinwoo's hand. He nods at the boy frantically, facking understanding.

“So, what would you like to order?” Jinwoo asks after a few minutes, his block of notes in his hand, ready. Jae is reading the menú, frowning, his eyes crossed. He is so confused that it’s cute, endearing – but Jinwoo can’t help him, his notions of English are useless, non-existent.

“What would you suggest me?” he says, closing the carte and glancing at him hopelessly, his big, gleaming eyes begging to be rescued.

“The lobster is delicious,” he offers, the only thing he can manage to say in a rushed, stumbled English. It must be the right thing to say because Jae beams, grinning.

“Lobster! I love lobster, man!” He twinkles with joy and Jinwoo smiles with pride.

He springs at the view of the lobster coming as if he has never seen something as appealing before. Just the smell of it is delicious, bathed in butter and cream.

“This is so ing good!” he exclaims in English, “I could marry the cook!” he adds, after another bite of it.

Seunghoon chuckles, peeking through the door.

“You should ask me out, first. And why am I the one paying for someone’s rent?” he jokes, sitting in front of Jae, crossed legs and a warm, welcoming smile on his face. Jinwoo gets his water, feeling that this conversation will take longer.

His suspicions are correct, moreover when Younghyung tags alone, dragging another chair, sitting next to Seunghoon. He lays a hand over the back of Seunghoon’s chair, protectively but, in Jinwoo’s eyes it looks different, it looks like a gesture of jealousy, marking the territory – he chuckles in the kitchen, away from Seunghoon’s eyes and ears, delighted with how things are turning out to be.

“I got paid for nothing and he pays you my rent with lobster, what else can I ask for?” he wonders, bemused.

Jinwoo is right, they stay talking for at least, one hour – Dowoon has to cook for the first time ever bu the restaurant has never been filled with so much laughter and joy before. He tries to catch up some bits of their conversation, but it’s mostly made in English and he can only read their faces. Younghyung smiles and is always bright but his hands never abandon Seunghoon’s surroundings, his eyes trail on him, following whatever he says, whatever he looks at and, when Seunghoon is chatting with Jae, something in him flicks, the light turns off from his lips until he is under Seunghoon’s presence again, noticed, cared.

“I’m not going to steal him, I swear,” Jae comments latter, when they are closing the restaurant, a whisper only to Younghyung to hear. “It was a joke,” he promises, pinching his side, gently pulling him in half a hug, “no need to worry.”

Younghyung will always worry about Seunghoon, though, it’s in his blood, deep down his core his name is carved on his bones.

Seunghoon is always the first to come and the last to leave but today he is going first. Usually, he goes walking but, sometimes a boy comes to collect him – a boy names Seungyoon whom Seunghoon is way too familiar with. They haven’t been yet introduced to each other despite that is more than half a year and this young man comes over enough times to be a regular client. Jinwoo seems to know him, even Dowoon, who always clings to him with his trademarked puppy-smile.

“Who is him?” he asks when Seunghoon is out of sight. Jinwoo takes a sip of his beer and keeps his smile inside.

“Seungyoon? Oh, he is Seunghoon’s brother,” and, all of a sudden Younghyung sees clear, the air coming straight to his lungs, filling his chest – fresh, clean, relived. “Not real siblings but... they grew up in the same orphanage,” Jinwoo provides more inside-information – the one that he is craving for, the pictures of Seunghoon’s life he is missing, the ones he has never told him before. “They were adopted separately but lived in Busan, so they kept in touch most of the time. Now they live together. Seunghoon always takes care of him, like real brothers,” he insists and it is reassuring that Jinwoo isn’t lying to him – he wouldn’t, he is someone who is always telling the truth, as much as it hurts.

When he finishes his drink he calls it a day and goes home.

The next time Seunghoon skips their after-work get together, he panics. What if he is seeing someone?

Dowoon laughs at his sudden, stressed face.

“What’s up hyung?” he asks, rubbing his back affectionally. Jinwoo passes him a bottle of beer down the bar. He catches it by an inch, takes a big gulp first. It tastes bitter, just like his feelings – is one of the beers that Jinwoo crafts on his days off.

“It’s good, hyung,” he says, raising it to the stars, toasting for his failing feelings, for the lump on his throat and the aching of his heart to go away, to leave him alone – he is always down without Seunghoon.

“It’s a pity that Seunghoon can’t try it,” Jinwoo says just to bring up his name. He smiles sympathetically to him and Younghyung wants to cry – he is hitting rock bottom now. “I’ll ask him tomorrow if we can serve them.”

“When he comes back from the market,” sneaks in Dowoon. So, is that it? Younghyung must have done something because he has his two friends laughing.

“Of course it’s that where he goes the days he doesn’t stay with us,” Jinwoo clarifies, Younghyung’s heart beating at a double pace. “Don’t worry, he is not dating anyone at the moment, “ he adds, patting his back. He loves Jinwoo so much, could come up with a dish only for him, would prepare him food for free for the rest of his life. The weight of his chest lifts up with Jinwoo’s assuring words and, even if they know, which is obvious they do, it’s ok because they seem willing to help.

Seunghoon’s phone beeps, screen lightning, showing a picture of his restaurant, his staff smiling on it. Seunghoon blinks and reads a text.

- Next time bring Younghyung-ie to the market with you. He is bored. He might suspect that you don’t want him around.

He sighs. It’s exactly the other way around: he doesn’t want Younghyung to come too close to his heart, he has suffered enough all this years without him around, no need to add more salt to the pain. But that’s a lovely idea, indeed, even if it’s coming from Jinwoo.

He texts Youghyung and prays for him to be still awake.

He replies at the speed of light, frightening Seunghoon – the sound of his phone is so unexpected he is properly scared.

- Sure thing! I’ll be down the street at five, sharp.

It sounds promising, he sounds cheerful and willing. He probably feels dejected, not having anything to do at work other than the few chores he has managed to steal from Dowoon.

It’s ten to five and Seunghoon is already parked in front of Younghyung’s place. There are lights on, somewhere, and he wonders if it would be his room, if he is just getting dress right now – or if it’s Jaehyung doing whatever he does up all night designing games and complaining because Younghyung never brings him Seunghoon’s lobster anymore.

It must be Jaehyung because Younghyung is already there, waiting on the corner, veiled by the night. Seunghoon honks at him and he is startled.

“Come on, I probably just woke up the whole neighbourhood. I don’t want anyone to notice my car and get fined!” he exclaims as a greeting. Younghyung laughs.

Even when Seunghoon is sporting pants and a simple T-shirt, he looks like a whole model – tall, slender, elegant, magnificent, he carries himself in such a manner it’s impossible to tear his eyes from his walk.

“I eat too much for their linking,” Seunghoon says, out of the blue. Younghyung blinks, confused, before realising that, again, he has spoken his mind carefreely. “You, too, if only you didn’t love eating,” he adds, smiling and he has the decency to blush – and the moonbeams on Seunghoon, his eyes sparkling, watching him with interest, with a side smirk.

“What are we looking for?” he asks, changing the subject – he can’t hold the pressure of Seunghoon’s eyes travelling on him, he feels too warm, ready to combust if he gets any closer, any tricker; Seunghoon is always so complicated to decipher; he does good but doesn’t want to be praised, thanked just to get mad for ignoring that he did something meaningless a fortnight ago: mood swings, they call it.

“Octopus,” he says, walking throw the market, greeting merchants as if they were friends – by their name, he stops to ask them about their day. “I want to cook Takoyaki,” he winks at a little girl and his heart skips a few beats.

He gets far more than just octopuses from his official merchant – the octopuses are so big, they have to carry them in a polyester box to keep it fresh and raw. The van is filled with goods and Seunghoon takes a moment to check on the bills.

“You do the maths, I’m tired. Haven’t had coffee yet”, he says, handing him the stack of papers. Younghyung happily obligates to help. He nods and does the sums, counting with his fingers, frowning. They got a discount in the end.

“You saved 10,000wons,” he points out and Seunghoon beams.

“That’s why I always come here. They all know me, they give me stuff for free. In exchange, once or twice, I get them tickets to come to have dinner”. And this is something new – though he is well aware that Seunghoon cares about everyone, he has received more than his fair share of Seunghoon’s mindedness.

The restaurant is deserted when they come over to do the delivery.

Younghyung turns to the bar, fills the room with the sweet aroma of the coffee beans being ground. He makes coffee for Seunghoon, hands it once he is done cutting the pieces for his cooking.

“Ah, just what I needed,” he says, sipping from his cup. Under the halogen light he looks younger, carefree, beautiful. He seats on top of the counter, his cup next to his legs, and he grins at him. “How are you getting on? Is everything fitting with you?” he wonders, looking at him expectantly, worrying about the answer already.

“Actually, hyung... there is something I should tell you,” he begins, voice shacking. Seunghoon’s expression shifts, from curiosity to surprise and shock. Just looking at him puts pain in Younghyung’s heart. “I think I’m abusing your hospitality... You even collected me at the airport when I landed. You have been nothing but nice and genuine. And I, honestly, don’t know how to even start repaying you”.

At it Seunghoon hums.

“Oh, do you really think I did it all for nothing?” he asks, amazed, his lips curbing up into a smirk. “I have... ulterior motivations,” he confesses, his voice chirp and content. “You, Younghyung-ah, are my utter motivation, but you will never know,” he says and he is so close to him, his hands cupping his cheeks, his eyes gleaming with universes and fireflies revolving in. Oh, how beautiful he is, how easy would it be to just kiss him, end the suffering. And, oh, how easy would it be to stop wondering, just let things happen because he is just a breathe away from him, looking at him expectant, waiting. “Maybe we will never know,” he says and it sounds now dejected, broken, in pieces. He is about to step back, come back to his place when Younghyung opens his mind, fully aware of the situation. It’s not a dream – Seunghoon is standing here, right in front of his lips. “Maybe I read it all wrong though I made it clear from the start, I always displayed interest...” he says with playfulness. “Perhaps Jaehyung’s reports were wrong...” he keeps going on.

“What reports? What are you talking about?” he blinks, shakes his head, shakes away the dream, the fantasy. “Have you team up with him?” he asks in amazement, totally astonished.

“How else would I know if you were, too, interested in me?” Seunghoon makes it sounds innocent, natural, not sneaky at all. But he is sly and cunning, he should hate him for that – he should kick Jaehyung for being a felony, for being a treacherous, disloyal.

“I was worried about you and I knew you wouldn’t tell me the truth in fear to hurt me,” he says and, to be sincere, he is partially correct. He would have said amen to everything just to have Seunghoon content, just to hear his smile, the joy in his eyes. “So I asked Jae. And he told me things I wanted to know, things I have intuited but that I could misinterpret.”

“I don’t think you would,” he manages to reply, too nervous to what is ahead.

“And I’m sorry I made you feel bad, it wasn’t part of the plan. I just wanted you to be impressed by me, that you would see how good I can be. But I ended taking away part of your responsibilities as a cook, didn’t I?”

“Just a little,” he agrees, beaming. This is going to places he never thought he was invited to be in, places he could only imagine, pictures in his head, dreams and fantasies.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Could I ever?” he wonders, a hand reaching for his. Seunghoon takes it and it feels warm, buttery – his hands are smaller than he expects, but they fit perfectly in his, their fingers colliding.

“You are allowed to be mad at me,” he says, pushing him inside his embrace. His chin rests on his hair and his hands slid across his chest, to fall to grab his hips. It feels like he belongs there.

“Why now?” he murmurs with bated breath.

“Why ever?” he replies, kissing, giddy, his forehead, swirling Younghyung inside his arms until he is facing Seunghoon. “It felt like a good moment,” he says because there is nothing else to add to it.

“Since when?” Younghyung is full of questions and he needs answers to be fully happy, to gleam enough to lit up the sky painted at the bottom of Seunghoon’s eyes – to be as bright as the mermaids on the paintings, to be part of the inner circle of Seunghoon’s chest.

“Since I left Canada.”

“And?”

“When you called me I was so happy, I thought life was giving me another chance. And I told you to work with me though we don’t have enough work for both of us. And I keep on preparing new recipes and letting you try them just to impress you. You have always been a better chef than myself,” he explains, voice small, heart as big and open as the universe.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting. I... waited too. For years and years. You have always been inside my heart but I never found the courage to tell you... But now I can. I’m in love with you,” he confesses, all the layers finally under the light, with nothing else to hide. “Do you want to go, have lunch with me? My treat!” he offers, a hand under his chin, angling his lips to be fully on top of his.

“Isn’t it great that I owe the perfect place?”

The first kiss tastes like laughter and expectations and all the things they couldn’t say. And, this time, Seunghoon lets Younghyung do all the cooking – and the dishes, just so he will get used to working with him as a full partner and lover.