never knew I could feel like this. - JAYWON

third - impulses.

They text. Sometimes. Okay no, scratch that. They text an awful lot. About the stupidest and simplest things. Jay knows now that Jungwon likes Curry, he did taekwondo through his first school years, but switched to dance classes in high school. His major is psychology for various reasons, but mostly he wants to help people. Jay has the impression that there's more behind it, but he doesn't want to pry.

Their conversation starters are simple things, like how Jungwon saw a cute cat on the way to campus or Jay burnt himself a little on the pan he tried to make breakfast. This earned him a little pity, followed by a question if he could even cook. If there's one thing Jay is confident in, then it's his cooking. He wouldn't say he's a master chef, but it's definitely more than average.

And that's how he finds himself in his small dorm kitchen on a Saturday evening stirring the pot of Curry he even called his mum for the recipe. A glance on his wrist watch tells him that Jungwon comes in about fifteen minutes, so he sets up the table. It fits barely in the small living room squeezed in between the couch and the window, two chairs on the unoccupied sides. The only to some extent romantic thing is the moonlight that shines through the window and maybe the beige cloth napkins, Jay specially bought. That he has no matching tableware destroys the picture, but it has to do. It's not even a date, right? Just a meeting of two friends? Are they even friends?

Jay has no more time to stress about this, because the bell rings and he rushes to the door. One last breath and he opens the door. Holy shit. He knows he stares, but he just can't look away. Instead of the loose fitting hoodies or shirts Jungwon wore so far, he now wears a light blue-white-striped long sleeved t-shirt tucked in tight fitted dark blue jeans. It emphasizes his seemingly inconceivably narrow waist, which take Jays thoughts in a dangerous territory.

"Uhm... C-can I come in?", Jungwon asks hesitant and shakes Jay out of his staring.

"Oh my god, sorry! Yes, of course! Hi", he replies hastily and steps aside.

Jungwon slips off his black converse and looks around, while he enters the living room. There's nothing much to see, because Jay is not the type to decorate. Just a picture of his dad in a black frame, Jay thought it's fitting and his guitar in the corner.

"You play guitar?", Jungwon excitedly wants to know.

Jay hums in agreement, while he puts some of the Curry in the bowls right next to the rice. He puts them on the table and joins Jungwon, who looks at the picture.

"Who's this?"

"My dad. He died six years ago." Jay answers. No beating around the bush. He doesn't avoid the topic – it's nothing he doesn't want to explicitly not want to talk about. It's just an automatic addition when someone asks about his father.

"I'm sorry", Jungwon says and there's no pity in his voice, like Jay expected. Like everybody else responds. It's more like he understands.

"Let's eat, before it get's cold."

They take a seat and Jungwon chuckles, when he inspects the napkins. "Classy."

"Oh, shut up. I made an effort here, okay?", Jay replies a little offended.

"Especially for me?", Jungwon teases with a smirk, but Jay decides to be earnest and nods. "Yeah."

Jungwon seems honestly surprised, but doesn't say anything further and just lifts a spoonful of Curry to his mouth. When he chews, an almost sinful moan leaves his lips and Jay can't help the shocking expression on his face.

"This good?"

Jungwon gives a thumps up. "Amazing", he mumbles between his bites.

Jay's pleased and a little proud of himself. Throughout their meal he smiles, it's impossible not to.