Yooeun had seen Jungkook before on subway line two going from Yonsei Station to Ewha University. It was late evening on a Sunday, and the railcar was mostly empty. It was when Yooeun had just begun to come out to his family, his friends, and to himself. 

It never occurred to him to check out guys before in the past, and it was the undressing and disposal of his deep-seated denial and embarrassment that made this moment so much more novel. As Jungkook sat crosslegged on the shiny subway seats across from him, it was all the more clear to Yooeun that something he considered to be unspeakable was actually beautiful and luminous, and above all else, accepted.

There was a newfound, cathedral vastness in his psyche that the smashed walls crumbled to reveal. He couldn’t stop looking at him. His hair soft and shiny like and delicate like satin, Yooeun wanted to go over and tousle it even though he didn’t know his name. His long proportions, the intimation of musculature underneath his arm as it draped by his side, the pale unblemished nape of his neck— Jungkook was intently watching something on his phone, earbuds in. Yooeun turned away when Jungkook glanced up to see him staring.

Embarrassed, he quickly took out his phone and pretended to read a webtoon on his screen. He thought it would draw his attention to cross his arms on his chest, silently hoping Jungkook was notice the forearms. From his periphery, Yooeun could swear that he was glancing at him. It didn’t matter though, because Jungkook got up and exited at Ewha University Station. Yooeun couldn’t help but to turn around and stare as he swerved the corner and climbed the stairs.