Chapter 5: The Sweetness of Affogato

Before he quite registered it, Yoonwoo found himself tasting the ice cream blended into the instant coffee. A rich sweetness, underscored by a subtle bitterness, spread across his palate, then glided smoothly down his throat as he swallowed. Yoonwoo’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“Wow, why is this so delicious?”

“See?”

Yeon-chae merely shrugged, his fair cheeks puffing out like two perfectly sculpted eggs. With a triumphant grin, he once again scooped a generous spoonful of what could genuinely be called affogato and offered it to Yoonwoo. Yoonwoo’s eyes curved into crescent moons.

“This is truly tasty. It feels much better than one made with espresso. I wish we could put this on the menu at our cafe! How did you even come up with something like this?”

Only a campus co-op cafe could get away with selling instant coffee and vanilla ice cream haphazardly mixed in a paper cup and calling it affogato. A proper cafe couldn’t openly sell such a concoction, nor could they price it highly. If customers lingered over a single cup, failing to ensure table turnover, the losses would be immense. Yoonwoo, despite knowing better, found himself prattling on. He felt a pang of guilt for having dismissed Yeon-chae’s creation earlier, but his words were also genuinely fueled by how delicious it was.

Yeon-chae, trapped in a “prison of praise,” didn’t know how to react, merely flashing a shy smile. The tips of his ears flushed a fiery red.

“It’s nothing special…”

His blushing, beaming face was so adorable that Yoonwoo yearned to pinch his cheeks. Those cheeks, soft even at a glance, looked as if they would stretch like glutinous rice cakes if gently pulled. Yet, the two had only met for the first time at the freshman welcoming party, with their second encounter being a chance sighting at the cafe where Yoonwoo worked. Moreover, this was their first proper conversation with the freshman. Feeling that he was perhaps being too familiar, Yoonwoo, who had instinctively reached out towards Yeon-chae’s cheek, spun his hand in the air before dropping it and hiding it behind his back.

“You try some, too.”

Instead of kneading those glutinous rice cake cheeks, Yoonwoo scooped a spoonful of affogato. As he brought the spoon to Yeon-chae’s chin, the younger man’s plump, red lips parted slightly in surprise. He wasn’t a witch tempting Snow White with an apple; rather, Yeon-chae was Snow White himself, with skin as fair as snow and lips as red as blood. Yoonwoo persistently urged on the blinking, surprised “Snow White.”

“Hurry. Say, ‘Ah.'”

“Sunbae…”

Yeon-chae, calling Yoonwoo’s name like a soft groan, squeezed his eyes shut. His thick eyelashes fluttered pitifully. Yoonwoo chuckled mischievously, pushing the spoon into Yeon-chae’s mouth. Yeon-chae accepted the spoonful of affogato Yoonwoo fed him, much like a newborn puppy, its eyes still closed.

“Is it good?”

“Yes…”

Yoonwoo had noticed the faint tremor in Yeon-chae’s low voice long ago. One of Yeon-chae’s soft cheeks swelled into a round mound as he chewed for a long time, meticulously rolling just one spoonful around his mouth. Only after he finally managed to swallow the affogato did he open his eyes. Before him, Yoonwoo was grinning triumphantly.

“Is it really good?”

“Yes…”

“Liar.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t like sweets, do you?”

“…”

Yeon-chae stared blankly at Yoonwoo. The bewildered expression on his sculpted face was so adorably foolish that Yoonwoo burst into laughter.

“Last time you came to the cafe, you only drank an americano, and even now, you bought me an affogato but got yourself an americano. I’ve worked at a cafe for a long time, so I’m pretty sensitive to menu choices, you know?”

At Yoonwoo’s astute explanation, Yeon-chae silently lowered his head. The clean nape of his neck, now exposed, was flushed a deep red, as if overcome by heat.

“You were practically trembling. Did you really not want to eat it that much?”

He could have simply said he didn’t want it. However, it seemed the freshman, whom Yoonwoo was meeting for only the third time, found him quite intimidating, unable even to voice his dislike for sweets and instead accepting the affogato Yoonwoo fed him with a tense expression. Yoonwoo chuckled softly, gently stroking the back of Yeon-chae’s round head.

“…That’s not it.”

A petulant murmur escaped his lips. Yoonwoo’s playful ruffling had left his neatly styled hair sticking out in various directions.

“It’s really not. It’s not because I don’t like it…”

“Right, right. Everything Yeon-chae says is true.”

Yoonwoo, leisurely agreeing with him, sipped his affogato. The ice cream had mostly melted, leaving a taste reminiscent of coffee milk frozen and then thawed from a convenience store. For Yoonwoo, who adored sweets, this version was equally delightful.

“If you don’t like it, why did you suggest coming here? Next time, let’s just grab something in front of the Business School.”

Having quickly slurped down the melted affogato, Yoonwoo tapped the dirt ground with the tip of his shoe as he spoke. Yeon-chae simply gazed silently at the pond.

“…You do, though.”

It was just as Yoonwoo stood up, suggesting they head back, that a faint mumble reached him from behind.

“Huh? What did you say?”

Yoonwoo turned around and asked.

A long gust of wind swept through, ruffling Yeon-chae’s hair. Sunlight pooled on his light brown eyelashes, illuminating them brightly. His gaze, fixed steadily on Yoonwoo, was unwavering.

“Sunbae… you like sweets, don’t you? I thought you’d enjoy it, so I suggested it.”

Blinded by the sheer radiance of his innocent face, Yoonwoo completely forgot to ask how he knew.

In front of Building 58, which housed the Business School, lay the central athletic field. Situated on lower ground, the field was clearly visible from the benches on the lawn in front of Building 58. Yoonwoo enjoyed eating ice cream on those benches after lunch, while Yeon-chae found pleasure in playing soccer on the field. This was precisely why Yoonwoo often ran into Yeon-chae without any prior arrangement.

“Sunbae, have you had your meal?”

Yeon-chae, seemingly having just finished his workout, ran up to the bench, gasping for breath as he asked. By then, it was already mid-April, and Yoonwoo had grown quite accustomed to Yeon-chae. Yoonwoo, with an ice cream cone still in his mouth, frowned and looked up at Yeon-chae. He knew that when Yeon-chae asked such a question, he was really asking if Yoonwoo had eaten a proper meal before indulging in snacks.

“I’m eating right now.”

“An ice cream cone?”

“There’s chocolate, too.”

“…”

Yeon-chae’s normally clear eyes quickly narrowed to sharp points. Feeling inexplicably scolded, Yoonwoo grumbled in defiance, yet his shoulders involuntarily hunched.

“Why didn’t you eat a proper meal?”

Yeon-chae approached Yoonwoo and plopped down on the bench beside him. His still-unsettled breathing sounded like a low, ragged groan.

Feeling a strange unease, Yoonwoo idly stroked his chin with his index finger.

“The menu today wasn’t great.”

It wasn’t that Yoonwoo disliked eating; he simply preferred delicious food. The quality of the 3,000 and 3,500 won meals at the student cafeteria next to Building 58 was generally excellent for the price, but occasionally, the taste was so bland and uninspired it was almost depressing. On such occasions, after clearing his tray, Yoonwoo would feel so utterly dejected that he usually opted to simply grab snacks or convenience store ramen on days the menu didn’t appeal to him.

Today was one of those days. Yoonwoo had pondered for a long time, quietly examining the two sample menus displayed at the student cafeteria entrance. One was kimchi fried rice that appeared to contain nothing but kimchi juice, and the other was instant udon, its broth seemingly made with beef seasoning powder. In the end, Yoonwoo shook off Hyun-jun, who was tugging at his sleeve, urging him to eat together, and turned to walk out of the cafeteria.

“How can that be considered a meal?”

Yeon-chae’s neatly sculpted brow furrowed, creating vertical lines. It seemed a shame to mar such a beautiful, chiseled face, so Yoonwoo instinctively reached out to smooth away the wrinkles, only to flinch and stop himself.

“Hey, you go up and look at today’s menu. You wouldn’t want to eat it either.”

Biting deeply into his ice cream, Yoonwoo grumbled. Yeon-chae, making an “hmm” sound, wore a thoughtful expression for a moment.

Yoonwoo cast a sidelong glance at Yeon-chae, who had suddenly fallen silent. Beads of sweat glistened on his clean forehead and fair cheeks, sparkling in the sunlight. One might expect the scent of sweat, but instead, Yoonwoo only perceived a pleasantly cool and refreshing bodily fragrance. ‘He must use a good fabric softener,’ Yoonwoo thought, licking the last remnants of his ice cream. He had heard Yeon-chae was an Alpha, and wondered what Yeon-chae’s true scent, perceptible only to other Alphas and Omegas, might feel like.

‘It wouldn’t matter anyway; I’ll never know.’

It would likely be a pleasant scent, befitting Yeon-chae’s delicate features and radiant face. However, as a Beta, Yoonwoo would never get to know Yeon-chae’s pheromones. He suddenly felt a pang of regret about that.

“What’s wrong, Sunbae?”

Noticing Yoonwoo’s gaze, Yeon-chae turned his head and tilted it. Yoonwoo must have been staring overtly without realizing it, despite his attempt to merely glance discreetly. He almost asked what Yeon-chae’s pheromone scent was, but remembering that it was rude to ask an Alpha or Omega about their pheromones, he quickly swallowed the words that had reached the tip of his tongue.

“Oh, nothing. Just… you seem to be sweating a lot.”

‘You look hot,’ he added at the end, and Yeon-chae’s expression clouded. He looked flustered.

“Ah… Really? Do I look bad?”

“Huh? No, of course not…”

Even if Yeon-chae were drenched in sweat, his face would never look bad. In contrast to his fair skin, his cheeks, flushed with heat, seemed even more vibrant. ‘Does he never look in a mirror?’ Yoonwoo was about to tell him not to worry about such trivial things, when Yeon-chae lifted the hem of his T-shirt and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“…”

It was spring, a warm day with a long, gentle breeze.

The cherry blossom branches by the bench swayed. Petals, on the verge of full bloom, fluttered like snow in the wind. Shards of spring sunlight touched Yeon-chae’s neatly sculpted profile. Yoonwoo’s gaze drifted to the moderately tanned, firm abdomen revealed beneath the lifted T-shirt. The well-defined muscles rose and fell with Yeon-chae’s breathing. Time seemed to stand still, frozen in that moment.

“Sunbae?”

Some fragments of memory are imprinted in the mind as clearly as photographs, never fading. Many years later, Yoonwoo would recall that moment, smiling with the same flutter of excitement one feels when opening an old photograph hidden in a jewel box.