At Huiwon’s urging to be honest, Hyeonho hesitated before seeming to make up his mind, drawing in a deep breath.
“……It does taste good. There’s an incredible strawberry scent, but I can’t tell if I ate an actual strawberry or strawberry-flavored cream. I mean, it’s all strawberry either way, but,”
Hyeonho scratched the back of his neck. Then he added that, honestly, he didn’t really know cakes, so could Huiwon please just pretend he hadn’t said anything.
Huiwon picked out the key point even from Hyeonho’s rambling. Too much focus on the strawberry, that’s what it is. Rather than savoring the subtle, lingering fragrance of strawberry and enjoying its aftertaste, it was a flavor where biting into fresh strawberry and strawberry cream all at once could come across as a bit overwhelming.
Huiwon picked up the plate to clear away the cake Hyeonho had left behind. He’d been anxious about the spring new arrivals and had put in too much force while making it — that’s why it turned out like this. He was planning to toss this straight into the food waste bin.
“Is this a spring new item?”
“Yes.”
“Everywhere you go in spring, it’s strawberries.”
The offhand remark hit Huiwon like a knock to the head. Spring means strawberries, and the fact that strawberries were starting to appear was a signal that he needed to create spring new items. The shop next door, the one across the street, the one behind — all of them were competitively putting out strawberry after strawberry after strawberry.
The flaws in his new products — which had been bothering him in some vague, formless way — now came into clear view. Why had he been so fixated on strawberries? Huiwon turned his head to look at the empty cake showcase. From one end to the other, everything he’d displayed today had strawberry as the main feature.
If you couldn’t buy cake number one, you could get cake number two, and if number two was gone, there was number three…… In other words, none of them were charming enough to leave you feeling truly disappointed if they sold out.
Huiwon turned around and looked back at Hyeonho. He was resting his chin on his hand, gazing out the window with an unhurried expression.
“Don’t you think the late spring cold snap will be over by next week?”
Hyeonho, still looking outside, said this without turning his gaze away. Huiwon was about to answer pleasantly, the way he would with a customer, when he suddenly snapped back to his senses.
“……I’ve been meaning to say this for a while. Can’t you drop that awkward formal speech? What happened to banmal all of a sudden. You can clearly tell I’m younger, and you look way older than me.”
Huiwon thought that soft, gentle formal speech of his was what made people let their guard down, and it contributed a great deal to crafting a nice-guy image. It had been different back when he was freely using banmal.
Hyeonho was visibly flustered by Huiwon’s words and quickly touched his face with his hand. His skin had been a bit rough these past few days from being so busy, but no one had ever told him he looked old before. And the emphasis on way older, no less. Sure, he looked different from Huiwon’s soft, youthful appearance, but he was absolutely not old-looking.
Take care of yourself while you’re young. You’ll go downhill fast.
He recalled something his sister had said once while putting on a sheet mask. I should buy a bunch of sheet masks on the way home today. Hyeonho rubbed his face a few times here and there, and then he noticed Huiwon watching him in his flustered state and trying to hold back a laugh.
He’d been so caught up in the “old-looking” comment that he’d nearly missed Huiwon’s suggestion. This time, Hyeonho grinned.
“……Alright, Huiwon.”
He called his name deliberately, drawing it out — and Huiwon, whose lips had been twitching with amusement, paused for a moment. He immediately wiped away every trace of laughter and spun around. Hyeonho watched Huiwon’s back as he scurried off behind the counter, then let out a quiet, stifled laugh.
The two of them headed to a Chinese restaurant not far from the café. It was fairly large as far as neighborhood Chinese places went, and a neatly dressed server courteously showed them to their seats. Even though it was already past a reasonable dinner hour, there were still quite a few people scattered around.
“I’m getting fried rice.”
Hyeonho said the order he’d been thinking about since lunch without even glancing at the menu. Huiwon, as if he hadn’t heard a word Hyeonho said, held the menu open with both hands like he was reading a book and carefully selected his order.
“Large jajangmyeon, medium sweet and sour pork, potstickers. If you’re getting the sweet and sour pork too, order the large.”
Following Huiwon’s words, Hyeonho ordered fried rice, large jajangmyeon, potstickers, and large sweet and sour pork from the server. After ordering, Huiwon just fiddled with his phone, while Hyeonho drank the jasmine tea the server had brought first. Just like at the gay bar before, conversation with Huiwon didn’t flow easily.
The fortunate thing was that, given the nature of Chinese food, the dishes came out quickly. The items they’d ordered were brought out one by one, and the sweet and sour pork landed on the table. The moment Hyeonho saw the separate dipping sauce, he thought of what his teammate had said over lunch.
This was exactly the moment he needed a conversation topic.
“Do you pour or dip?”
Hyeonho raised his voice the way his teammate had advised at lunch and asked Huiwon. Whatever Huiwon answered, he planned to go along with it. He was the type who didn’t care either way — whether to dip the sauce or pour it over.
“Dip.”
Ah, okay. Taking Huiwon’s answer, Hyeonho was about to leave the sauce on the side without pouring it — when Huiwon picked up the sauce bowl and dumped it all over the sweet and sour pork.
Didn’t he just say dip? Hyeonho tilted his head and watched Huiwon’s actions, and Huiwon scraped the inside of the sauce bowl clean with his chopsticks as he replied.
“As in, I dip without making a sound about it.”
Ah……
It wasn’t the response he’d been hoping for, but Hyeonho laughed anyway because it was funny.
“Ah…… So I guess the pour people are the diligent eaters.”
“…….”
He’d said it to keep the conversation going, playing along — but Huiwon, who had just picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork and put it in his mouth, stopped chewing and stared at Hyeonho. His gaze lingered openly for a long moment. Then Huiwon slowly chewed the food again and swallowed.
“……People who pour it on.”
With that slow reply, Huiwon scooped up a big forkful of jajangmyeon and ate it. Hyeonho rubbed the bridge of his nose at the wave of embarrassment that washed over him, then picked up his spoon and started eating his fried rice.
All that could be heard was the slurping sound of Huiwon eating his jajangmyeon. Hyeonho pulled himself together and tried once more.
“What’s your blood type?”
Apparently people love talking about blood types.
If Huiwon said A, he was going to say so that’s why you’re meticulous enough to make cakes so well; if AB, so that’s why you have such an artistic eye for shaping cakes. If he said B, he planned to say so that’s why you have such a good sense for cake trends; if O, so that’s why you’re so warm with customers.
Just at lunchtime, he couldn’t understand why anyone would sort people into just four categories based on blood type — but somewhere along the way, Hyeonho had started guessing at what blood type would come out of Huiwon’s mouth and was mentally preparing his responses.
“I’m low on blood. Not interested in donating.”
At Huiwon’s answer, so different from what he’d expected, the conversation died again. Even so, it seemed better not to push him to answer, or to bring up star signs on top of it.
After that, they both ate in silence — true to the spirit of “dip without making a sound about it.” Huiwon ate an impressive amount of food for his frame. Hyeonho wasn’t a small eater himself, but devoured was the word that fit Huiwon — he cleaned out the jajangmyeon, the potstickers, and the sweet and sour pork completely. When the food was all gone, he gave his full belly a light, satisfied pat.
“I’ll drive you home. My car’s parked near the café.”
When Hyeonho stood up and offered to take him home, Huiwon shook his head sharply.
“I said to buy me a meal ten times. Who said anything about driving me home ten times?”
“……No, I mean, we just ate and it’s late, so—”
“I’ve got two perfectly good legs. It’s late, so you get home quickly too. Thanks for the food.”
Huiwon wiped his mouth neatly with a napkin, rose from his seat, and walked out toward the exit without a second glance.
Honestly, this person has no idea how to accept someone’s goodwill. Hyeonho just stood there and watched Huiwon’s back disappearing rapidly into the distance.
“Thank you.”
Huiwon watched the back of a customer disappear after receiving their cake box, then blinked his dry, gritty eyes. After closing up the café last night, he’d done several rounds of sketches for new products and browsed the internet until he’d only managed two hours of sleep. It had already been three days in a row where he hadn’t gotten even five hours of sleep.
Aside from bestsellers like tiramisu and gateau chocolat, the showcase today was once again filled with cakes that had strawberry as the main feature. The lack of any real variety was frustrating, but Huiwon consoled himself with it’s spring, and the reception hasn’t been bad.
“Do Huiwon.”
Around 5 in the afternoon, just as he was baking the last cake and putting it on display in the showcase, a familiar sound came from the entrance. Huiwon quickly looked up toward the door — the person he’d expected upon hearing the voice, Choi Dogyeong, was standing there in a well-fitted beige trench coat, waving his hand.
“Dogyeong hyung!”
“Business is going well. It looks different from when I was here last time, doesn’t it?”
