Phone Calls

“Are you sure you’re at the right one? Because there’s another one up the road by the bank, but I’m talking about the one by the pharmacy.” Jiyong cranes his neck, trying to spot Seunghyun. It shouldn’t be this hard – it’s not like there are that many people walking around with jawlines like his.

“I see the pharmacy.”

“And you’re outside, right? Not inside?”

“Yeah, I’m outside. I’m under the awning.”

“The awning…?” Jiyong repeats. He doesn’t see an awning. “The pharmacy has like a green sign with a blue logo thing, right? Because I think there’s a pharmacy by the one by the bank, too...”

“Green sign, blue logo,” Seunghyun confirms. “You didn’t dye your hair since last night, did you? Still purple?”

“Plum,” says Jiyong. “But yes, still plum. How tall are you?”

“Uh, I don’t know, pretty tall. Like a hundred eighty centimeters maybe? A hundred seventy-five, a hundred eighty centimeters. Somewhere in there.”

Jiyong’s heart flutters thinking about how much taller than him Seunghyun is. Then he thinks about how this corroborates Chaerin’s sense that Seunghyun has a big dick and he has to suppress a snort of laughter. “That’s a pretty wide range!” Jiyong says – it comes out more irritable than he meant it in his effort to cover up his lewd thoughts. “How can you not know how tall you are?”

“It’s not like I spend my time measuring myself,” Seunghyun says, and even more lewd thoughts bounce around Jiyong’s head.

Jiyong stops walking to scan the crowds. Why did they have to pick a café on the most congested little alley in the city? Well, because it’s close to Seunghyun’s building. He wanted to be close to one of their houses in case lunch went well, and Dami’s been lying around their apartment all weekend. He was too embarrassed to kick her out when he’s not even sure something’s going to happen.

Is something going to happen? He thinks I’m pretty and he’s dated guys! Jiyong repeats to himself, and breaks out into a grin. He’s been chanting it in his head all morning. This makes three drunken phone calls that he doesn’t regret, the first two being the ones that got him in contact with Seunghyun in the first place. Although he wasn’t really drunk last night; just slightly tipsy. He didn’t want to be hungover for their date (is this a date?), but he needed some liquid courage. His friends found it completely ridiculous that he still didn’t know if Seunghyun was straight or not, and he’d resolved to find out before meeting him in real life.

Only Seungho was sympathetic. “Jiyong’s too invested. That’s what it is. When you like someone that much, you can’t separate out what you want them to be from what they are. It happened to me once with a guy.” Jiyong was embarrassed to be called out on the intensity of his feelings for Seunghyun, but at least he has an explanation for why his normally flawless gaydar has such a huge blind spot. (“So was he?” Jiyong’d asked. “The guy you liked?” Seungho shook his head. “He wasn’t.” He shot Jiyong a sly smile. “And then he was.”)

“So you see the pharmacy with the green sign and the café, but not the awning?” Seunghyun asks.

“Yeah, I – oh, there’s the awning! It’s lower than I expected…”

“Well, I’m under it. On the side closer to the convenience store.”

Jiyong gets on his toes, trying to see over the people between him and the patio in front of the café. “I’m trying to get over there, there’s just too many people, sorry. I still don’t see you.”

“You’re definitely in Seoul, right?” Seunghyun jokes.

“Well if I’m not, I’m paying way too much rent…” Jiyong says. A group of people shifts then and Jiyong has a clear view of the front of the café. For an instant he just sees people, tables, chairs, windows, and then suddenly the jumble resolves and he sees Seunghyun there, standing a few feet from the door with his phone to his ear. In a fit of anxiety, Jiyong yanks his phone away from his own ear and ends the call.

He knew Seunghyun was handsome, of course he did, but this is just absurd. He doesn’t even look real. This was a mistake. This was a huge mistake. Jiyong wants to run away, or better yet, to melt into a puddle, never to be seen again. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he ever dream this was a date? Even if Seunghyun thought Jiyong’s pretty, he’s not going to keep thinking that when he sees Jiyong up close, sees his pores and his acne scars and his split ends.

But still, Jiyong’s feet move forward. What else can he do? Seunghyun is looking down at his phone, probably trying to figure out why their call got cut off, so he doesn’t notice Jiyong approaching. With each step Jiyong sees better how tall Seunghyun is, how smooth his skin, how large his eyes. He’s so handsome Jiyong wants to cry. Will Seunghyun cringe when he sees him?

“Um, hi,” Jiyong says. “I found you.”

Seunghyun looks at him and far from cringing, he lights up. His eyes pop and his mouth parts and his dimples show and instantly Jiyong’s smile goes from nervous and forced to ecstatic and genuine. “Jiyongie!” Seunghyun says and moves as if to embrace him, but he turns it into an awkward bow.

Jiyong bows back, and he silently appreciates his foresight to wear a shirt that doesn’t easily show sweat, because his ribs are already slick. He sweats like crazy when he’s feeling nervous or excited or overwhelmed, and right now he’s all three. He can’t believe Seunghyun called him “Jiyongie”. They’ve always avoided addressing each other directly when they talk, because there’s no good way to do it: They didn’t go to the same school; they don’t work at the same place; they’re (thankfully) not related. A few times Seunghyun has called him “Jiyong-ssi”, which is a little stiff. But “Jiyongie” is so familiar; so intimate. He should be offended, but it’s thrilling.

“Um,” Seunghyun says just as Jiyong says, “Well…” They laugh, both hesitating to be the one to speak again, until finally Jiyong blurts out, “Do you want to go in?”

“Uh, yeah – yeah, let’s go in.”

They shuffle into the café, the air between them electric and strange. Jiyong can’t stop smiling but he feels like he might die of embarrassment, too. As they stand side-by-side in line, he keeps taking a deep breath and opening his mouth like he’s going to start speaking, only to find he can’t think of a single thing to say. They face the counter, ostensibly studying the menu hung above it, but Jiyong sneaks glances at Seunghyun, and on one of those glances he finds Seunghyun looking back at him. They laugh nervously. “What?” Jiyong asks.

“I don’t know, what?” Seunghyun says, shrugging. He’s so boyish and silly, his cheeks deeply dimpled, and Jiyong aches with fondness.

“I don’t know, you’re looking at me weird,” Jiyong says. He runs his hand through his hair, hoping it looks all right.

“Am I? No, it’s nothing weird, it’s just…”

“What?”

“Well...you’re shorter than I thought you’d be.”

Jiyong pretends to be outraged, but he doesn’t really mind – he finds something very pleasing about being dwarfed by Seunghyun. He’s already fantasizing about how good it would feel to be held in Seunghyun’s arms, hidden behind his broad shoulders. “Is that bad?” he demands.

“No, no, no. It’s not bad at all. It’s just...unexpected?” The line moves and they step forward. “Do I look different than you thought I would?” he asks.

Jiyong very much enjoys the opportunity to give Seunghyun a long look up and down – and enjoys it even further when he detects a hint of a blush rising in Seunghyun’s cheeks. Fuck, he’s so handsome. That’s the only difference: Jiyong had assumed that the 1.2 megapixel camera through which he’d been seeing Seunghyun until now was blurring some of the minor flaws that normal people have – not that it was hiding how good-looking he actually is. But he can’t say that. Yet. “Not really,” Jiyong says, “but your voice is deeper in real life.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” says Jiyong, turning back towards the counter. “It’s good,” he adds just before they step up to place their orders.

“Oh.” There’s a hint of a smile in Seunghyun’s voice.

Jiyong gets a salad and Seunghyun gets a sandwich. They find a table in the corner. The café is noisy, but their table is small so they’re close enough to hear each other clearly. Not that they have much to say at first – other than a few comments on the food, they eat in stilted silence for several minutes.

Nerves alight, Jiyong tries to focus only on controlling the anxious energy running through him. Stop jiggling your leg, he tells himself sternly. Keep eating. Don’t stare. It was a bit like this when they started facetiming; their rhythm was off for a week or so as they adjusted to seeing each other when they spoke.

Jiyong’s not prepared to wait a week to be able to talk to Seunghyun again. “So, how was your morning?” he asks. It’s not great, but it’s the best he can come up with.

“Oh, it was good. How was yours?”

“Fine. Nothing exciting,” Jiyong says. He eats a cherry tomato, disappointed that his overture didn’t bring them back to normal, then says, “Actually, I was nervous all morning.” Maybe if he admits it, it’ll put Seunghyun at ease.

“Nervous?” Seunghyun repeats. “Nervous to meet me?”

“Yeah,” says Jiyong. “I don’t know why. We already know each other so well.”

“It’s still a big deal. Maybe I’m going to knock you out and steal your organs. I have the opportunity now.”

Jiyong smiles. “Ah, is that how you supplement a junior designer’s income? Wait for people to call you by mistake, talk to them on the phone for three months, meet them, then sell their organs on the black market? It seems very unstable. How did you know I’d call?”

“That’s my secret,” Seunghyun says, grinning. “Your ex is part of the scheme. He lures people in, then breaks up with him. It works very well, as you can see. I mean, you didn’t think someone would actually behave like he did, did you?”

Jiyong nearly chokes from laughing. He’s not sure if it’s out of amusement or because he’s so relieved that they’re joking with each other. Probably both. “Oh, that explains so much,” Jiyong says, nodding as if deep in thought even as laughter still sputters out of him.

The tension broken, they find their flow again and talk as they would on the phone. Seunghyun asks about dancing the night before and Jiyong tells him, but he sidesteps their conversation afterwards – it’s too precious to him to be taken out and examined in public like this. It’s all right, though; now there’s no shortage of things to say: they talk about their jobs; a dog Seunghyun saw on his walk over (and dogs in general, and what kind they’d like to get someday); a famous designer’s new clothing brand that launched recently (Seunghyun’s firm designed their flagship store, and the brand sent samples to Jiyong and the other stylists at his company to try). A song they both like plays, which brings them to music, one of their favorite and most fruitful topics. Even the recent change in the weather is interesting to talk about with Seunghyun.

Only it’s not how it would be on the phone, because on the phone Seunghyun isn’t right there. Their table is tiny – absurdly tiny, the more Jiyong looks at it; probably only meant for one person – and they both lean over it to eat, but even when they finish they stay like that, so close that Jiyong can count Seunghyun’s eyelashes. Seunghyun mostly keeps his arms crossed and resting on the table, but sometimes he’ll take a sip of his drink and after he puts it down his forearm will lie along the side of the table and Jiyong gets distracted thinking about how easy it would be to touch him by accident.

When they finally do touch, it’s not by accident at all.

Seunghyun is telling him a story about a guy in his office, and when he hits the punchline and Jiyong starts laughing, Jiyong’s hand flutters up to cover his mouth. He doesn’t even notice himself doing it – until Seunghyun’s fingertips are pressed against the inside of his wrist, gently tugging his hand away. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he says. “I like your smile.”

Jiyong’s wrist is on fire – and his face, too; a great flood of heat is rushing through him and he can hardly breathe, let alone speak. Seunghyun withdraws his hand and looks away, mashing his lips together. “Sorry,” he says after a moment.

Jiyong’s voice comes out creaky. “Why?”

“For, uh, making you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to, I just –”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Jiyong says. “I – um – you...like my smile?”

Seunghyun’s eyes are on the table. He nods.

Jiyong takes a deep breath. “Do you think it’s pretty?” he asks.

Seunghyun’s gaze flashes to his, but he looks away again, redness rising in his cheeks.

This is it, Jiyong thinks. This is his now-or-never moment. He reaches across the table and puts his hand on Seunghyun’s, squeezing gently.

Seunghyun’s eyes flare. He looks at Jiyong, then back down at their hands, then back at Jiyong again, holding his gaze for a long, tenuous moment. “Yes,” he says quietly. “I think it’s very pretty.”

Jiyong grins hard, his stupid gummy smile in full bloom, and after a moment of hesitation, Seunghyun grins back.

They sit like that for a spell, sweet and chaste, until finally Jiyong says, “You live near here, right?”

Seunghyun nods.

“Maybe we could, uh, go to your house for a little bit? If you don’t mind?”

Seunghyun inhales sharply. “You want to?”

“Well, I just think maybe...maybe we could use some privacy?” Jiyong casts his eyes to the right, where a few feet away from them them another table has abruptly stopped talking and seems to be avoiding looking at them.

“Okay,” Seunghyun says, nodding. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

They break their hands apart before getting up and walking to the door, but once they reach the street, Jiyong threads his fingers through Seunghyun’s again. “Which way?” he asks, and Seunghyun leads them.

The crowds have eased some. Jiyong didn’t realize how long they spent in the café just talking. They don’t speak now; they’re walking at such a brisk pace that it would be awkward to keep up a conversation. Every now and then they look at each other and smile. Is this really happening? Jiyong keeps thinking. Is this guy he’s been mooning over for three months – who happens to look like a model, but better – really taking him to his apartment right now? Something has to happen. Seunghyun thinks he’s pretty. He likes Jiyong’s dumb, ugly smile. He likes Jiyong!

“Oh, uh, you know what?” Seunghyun says, stopping suddenly. “We need to make a quick detour.” He hangs a sharp left down a flight of stairs to a narrow alley between two buildings, moving so quickly that as Jiyong follows along, still holding his hand, he giggles and thinks he might fall down the steps. They walk a few meters more down the alley, which is quiet and seems to be purely residential. Seunghyun’s a step or two ahead of him. Jiyong doesn’t bother to look where they’re going; he just watches Seunghyun’s dark, searching eyes.

They’ve reached a stretch far enough from either street to feel private when Seunghyun pulls Jiyong around a wall that conceals someone’s side door and garbage cans. Jiyong looks all around him, trying to figure out where they are and why, but can’t see anything of particular interest. He looks back at Seunghyun and abruptly realizes how close they’re standing. “What’s going on?” he asks.

Seunghyun doesn’t say anything, but he squeezes his hand, and his gaze falls from Jiyong’s eyes to his lips. He’s going to kiss me! Jiyong realizes. Oh god, he’s going to kiss him. Right here! Next to some garbage cans! Jiyong has no idea what his breath smells like. Is it bad? How can he figure out in the next quarter of a second? What should he do if it is? And his hair – has all this rushing around blown it askew? Has he finally sweat through his shirt? When was the last time he plucked his eyebrows? Is his eyeliner smudged?

But then Seunghyun lifts his free hand to cup Jiyong’s jaw, and then the tip of his nose brushes Jiyong’s, and then he’s kissing him and there was nothing to be nervous about at all. And it’s not just that Jiyong hasn’t kissed anyone in a long time, or that the last person he kissed was a jerk who stole his toaster oven and made him cry, or that there’s something exciting about kissing in an alley outside a stranger’s door – this is Seunghyun, and this is what it is to kiss someone you love, and this is what it is to kiss someone who does a stupid dance just to make you laugh, and Jiyong can’t understand why he ever kissed anyone else.

When they break apart Jiyong isn’t ready yet to look up and see Seunghyun’s perfect face, so he keeps his eyes closed and nuzzles into Seunghyun’s neck instead. This presents a new facet of Seunghyun to consider, as Jiyong is immediately wrapped up in his warm, clean scent. Seunghyun presses his nose into Jiyong’s hair, and Jiyong thinks it’s funny how an alleyway full of garbage cans can feel like the most romantic spot in the world.

Gradually Jiyong comes out of his daze and pulls away from Seunghyun enough to see his face again. “Some detour,” he says.

Seunghyun chuckles low and curls his fingers against the small of Jiyong’s back. “Sorry for the inconvenience,” he says with a smirk. “Ready to go?”

Jiyong nods, and they resume their walk to Seunghyun’s house, hands still clasped together.

Notes