NOTE: ₩ is the symbol for won; Korean currency. Siot and hieut are letters: siot is ㅅ and hieut is ㅎ.

~*~

Nam Soon opened the door to the café with a bang and was met with a harsh glare. Ah, the bang followed by that glare; it was just like clockwork really. (Nam Soon still maintained he spent enough money here to slam the door, much to the owners chargin.)

Nam Soon gave a bright smile to the ajusshi who ran the shop with his wife, but it only made his scowl deepen.

“You’ll scare off all your customers with a face like that, ajusshi,” Nam Soon said as he stepped inside with Heung Soo. “Even without the scowl it’s already ugly enough to scare them from getting too close.”

“If you brake that door then you’re damn well paying for it, you little brat.” The ajusshi grumbled, ignoring the insult and glaring at Heung Soo too just for good measure.

Nam Soon gave him his most obviously fake pout and sighed. “Your wife is a lot nicer, you know.”

“Yes, well,” he grumbled, “she has a soft spot for those who don’t have all their parts screwed together tightly enough.”

Nam Soon turned to Heung Soo with an incredulous look, “Is he implying I’m a retard?”

Heung Soo gave him a patronising pat on the shoulder. “Not implying, just observing.”

Nam Soon hit him around the head as Heung Soo passed by but the other boy just laughed him off and went to sit down.

“Two bowls of ramen,” Nam Soon told the ajusshi, then pointed at Heung Soo. “And I’ll give you an extra ₩10,000 if you spit in his.”

“I heard that!” Heung Soo called over. “Ajusshi, piss in his and I’ll give you ₩50,000.”

“Pair of brats,” the man grunted as he turned to get their order. “I wish you’d eat someplace else.”

“No you don’t,” Nam Soon said, heading over to join Heung Soo, having to raise his voice so the ajusshi could hear. “Nobody else wants to buy your ty food. You’d go out of business without us.”

He slid into the seat opposite Heung Soo and gave him a lazy grin. “Wanna do my homework for me? I’ll give you a free meal.”

Heung Soo raised a brow. “I’m not even doing my own, so why would I do yours?”

Nam Soon shrugged. “Don’t actually really want you too, just thought I’d make some light conversation before asking something more personal.”

“What?” Heung Soo asked, “and since when did you feel the need to break the ice first?”

“I dunno,” Nam Soon said. “So, anyway, Lee Byung Hun or Lee Jun Ki?”

“What?”

“What type of guy do you like? Handsome and masculine or a pretty flower boy?”

Heung Soo watched him for a few moments critically. “Why?”

Nam Soon huffed. “I’m showing interest in your life. Friends ask other friends who they’re in to. Now, handsome or pretty?”

Heung Soo was still looking at him as if he were seeing another question written across his face, and Nam Soon really wasn’t feeling very comfortable about it.

Really, did there have to be another reason? It’s a perfectly innocent question. Well, for the most part, if he were to be honest with himself. But it’s a question that’s been bugging him for a few weeks now, ever since those damn dreams started.

Heung Soo liked him, but why did he like him? Was it the way he looked?

Heung Soo stopped his study of Nam Soon and he found himself relaxing more into his seat now that the scrutinising observation was gone.

“A mix of both, I guess. I never really put a lot of thought in to types.” He finally answered. His head tilted just slightly as he regarded Nam Soon. “What type of women do you like?”

The question was sudden, he didn’t miss a beat between sentences and it caught Nam Soon off guard.

What type of women did he like? He’d never really thought of that either. He mentally ran through all the actresses he could think of, then random girls he knows when none stood out. He came up blank.

‘You like me too,’ those words rang in his ears.

Was the question some kind of test? Heung Soo thinks he likes him, so why ask about women? It felt like a test, and Nam Soon was failing it horribly.

“Ones who don’t look like men,” he forced the joke, trying to relax the sudden tightness in his muscles. “That’s not a pretty look on a woman.”

There was a few beats of silence, then Heung Soo leaned back casually. Whatever Heung Soo read from Nam Soon’s reply he didn’t know.

“I don’t like when men act overly feminine.” Heung Soo supplied offhandedly and Nam Soon was thankful he’d turned the conversation back to himself, though he was sure Heung Soo did it on purpose; he seemed to have gotten an answer, though Nam Soon was clueless as to what it was.

Regardless, he was happier to be talking about Heung Soo right now rather than be left lingering on why no women were coming to mind when he tried to think who was attractive.

“Yeah, I imagine you’d just end up punching a guy like that after prolonged exposure.” Nam Soon agreed with a laugh, only slightly forced this time. The danger had passed, he could relax. “So would I.”

“You did.” Heung Soo grinned back.

He did? “When? Who?”

“Years ago,” Heung Soo said. “We were thirteen or something. That kid, what was his name? Shin something…”

Nam Soon frowned, trying to remember, but it didn’t ring any bells.

“Aish, you forgetful idiot.” Heung Soo said with a light kick to Nam Soon’s leg under the table. “He followed you around for about three months. He always wore hair clips.”

“Oh, him!” The image came back to him now. “Yeah, he was short and really skinny. He always pronounced siot and hieut weirdly.” Then he frowned. “When did I punch him?”

“After he called you pretty in front of another iljjang,” Heung Soo sniggered. “I’ll always remember that look on your face, it was hilarious.”

Nam Soon groaned as the memory came back to him. Some bastard had been running his mouth and harassing people who belonged to Nam Soon, so he’d called for a fight to put him in his place. That idiot kid tagged along regardless of how many times Nam Soon had told him to off home. The two iljin met up and the other iljjang, who was maybe a year older and a lot broader than Nam Soon, had commented on his leaner frame, something along the lines of ‘prancing ’. Before Nam Soon could beat the out of him for that little comment, the Shin kid had piped up that the bastard was just jealous because Nam Soon was far prettier. The kid was the first to get hit that night. One well placed punch and he was flat on his back unconscious. He then made sure the other iljjang had to take a trip to the emergency room that night for laughing at him.

“I want to knock him out all over again,” Nam Soon scowled. He could still hear an echo of obnoxious laughter ringing in his ears.

Heung Soo just openly laughed at him, the pitiful excuse for a friend.

“Yah,” Nam Soon told him, “I’ll punch you first!”

The ajusshi was back then, placing a bowl down in front of each of them. “One bowl of spit and one bowl of piss.” He didn’t hang around.

Heung Soo nodded his head towards Nam Soon’s bowl. “Try not to  it this time, okay?”

Nam Soon didn’t. In fact, he didn’t eat it at all; he instead made Heung Soo a lovely new hair accessory made from noodles and ceramic. Then he stole Heung Soo’s ramen when he went to the bathroom to wash it out. All in all, it was a pretty good day.