SUGAR & ICE. － lbc

° twenty °

Tin had an idea. Surely, it wouldn't fail as it didn't really require much of him talking, with which he evidently struggled, but rather consisted of just an action.

For the following few days, whenever Can dropped by the café alone or with friends, Tin would walk past and stealthily place extra sugar packets on the table.

Initially, Can hadn't even realised until it happened the third time and of course, he was at an utter loss, because since when did Tin do anything nice? Hadn't he scolded him for stealing sugar packets in the beginning?

No good could come out of a person like Tin, the frustrated male was sure, but then that would mean he was planning something and for the life of him, Can couldn't grasp what it was.

More than ever he wanted to discuss things over with Pete, but the guy never parted with his boyfriend and frankly, Can was too scared to bring up Tin in Ae's presence. Heck knows how the rich student's name triggered Ae's anger.

Until he could get Pete alone, Can decided to be patient and wary of Tin, watching his movements from his peripheral vision whenever he was around.

Getting home, another time with pockets full of sugar packs which were given to him, Can lumbered up the stairs to his room and tossed himself onto his bed, grunting.

Tin had a few screws lose in his head and was the weirdest, meanest person Can had the misfortune of meeting, but his hand twitched to reach for his phone and look the boy up online. Why was he so wealthy anyways?

Huffing, partially upset with himself for caving into his curiousity and blaming Tin for sparking such a hunger within him in the first place, he pushed himself into a seated position and took his phone out of his backpack beside the bed.

Pulling up his Facebook discover page, he tapped the search bar and typed in Tin － Tin. . . What was Tin's surname?

He groaned, throwing his head back and accidentally hitting it against the wall.

"Ouch, shit!"

"Shut up!"

Oh, his sister was home?

"Sorry," he called, knowing his apology would pass through the thin walls easily.

Looking back at the phone in his hand, cursor blinking at him to finish typing the name, he sighed. But wait, he'll go through Pete's friend list and get to Tin's page that way! He was a genius.

Grinning, he went to Pete's profile and begun his search. Thankfully, Tin was easy to find and Can didn't hesitate to tap at his name.

Tin Medthanan? He had never come across the family name before, so what was it that made Tin so famous on campus?

His eyes squinted as he went through the relatively bland profile page.

There was practically no information and Tin only scarcely posted selfies, alone or with Pete, which Can realised had a ridiculous amount of likes and comments from people fawning over him.

After all he went through to find his account, was this really all there was to －

"P'Can, could you go walk Gucci today? I need to get some things done."

Can had been startled by his sister's head suddenly popping in between the gap of his open door, and fumbled with his phone before tucking it against his chest and protectively folding his arms over it.

Lay rose a brow.

"Sure," he squeaked out, eyes wide.

He felt as if he had been caught doing something wrong, which he wasn't, but he couldn't help the abrupt panic.

"Thanks, and don't freak out so much, geez. I don't care if you're watching porn or something, dumbass."

Can's face glowed red.

"I-I'm not!"

"Yeah yeah," she waved a hand, as if to push the topic away, clearly not believing him, "Just don't let it get too late before you go walk him."

And with that she shut the door, leaving Can flustered on his bed, still clutching his phone defensively.

"Ugh, it's all Ai'Tin's fault," he mumbled grumpily, shutting off the screen and sliding himself off of the mattress, onto his feet.

Swiftly changing into a T-shirt he considered fairly clean and a pair of denim three-quarters, he went to leave his room and descend into the kitchen, finding his mother reading her e-mails and sipping on lemon tea.

Lifting her eyes to look at her son, she glanced over his outfit and smiled.

"Are you going to go walk Gucci?"

"Mhm. Do you need anything from the store?"

She briefly thought about her reply before shaking her head, refocusing on her old laptop.

"No, thank you though."

"No problem," Can said, shoving his feet into a ratty pair of converse tossed beside the sliding doors.

"I'm heading out," he announced, "Gucci! Here boy, come here!"

At the call, their large dog came bolting around the corner, rubbing its head against his bare legs and giving a bark of excitement.

Smiling down at the animal, Can rubbed between his ears and attached a red leash to the collar, moving to then open the doors and let them both step out, prior to closing them again.

Walks with Gucci were always fun. He behaved well, and Can tended to rattle on to him about whatever would be going through his mind and pretend the dog was listening, yapping as if in response.

Can found himself unable to vent that afternoon, however. All he had on his mind was Tin, and what if somebody heard him going off about what was happening between them? What was even happening between them?

He almost shuddered at the thought.

No, better talk to Gucci about something else, anything else.

Going along their usual route, Can decided to take a longer road half-way into their little trip, unwilling to go home any time soon. And then it was sudden, hard to notice but enough to make him come to an instant stop; the familiar back and the familiar hair, walking further along the street, with a paper bag in their left hand.

Could that be － Tin?

The urge to follow the guy rapidly grew, because should they be Tin, what on earth was a richy like him doing in this part of town?

A steady flow of adrenaline pushed Can to change any earlier plans he had, and instead pursuit the figure of this person, who strode fairly quickly ahead of him.

It took numerous turns and pauses to let cars pass, to separate Can from the boy, and at losing sight of him, frustration seeped into his chest.

Oh, how would he ever know if that was indeed Tin and what he was doing over there? Maybe thinking about Tin had made Can mistake a completely innocent passer-by for him?

He let out a groan, scratching at his dark hair and spinning on his heels, deciding to just go back home and give up on the silly goose chase.

Can realised he desperately needed to get that jerk out of his head, or else he would go mad.

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