By Zephyria 
Did he sleep well last night?
The two old folks were flustered and couldn’t ease his discomfort, just sent him up. To hear us say, ‘I understand, take good care of each other,’ he must have come all this way for that. I’m so sorry we sent him off like that…
Hyun-soo is a child who grew up on his own, without being cared for like others, rolling this way and that. Yet, he never complained in front of us. He was always loud about making lots of money to give us a good life, and he was the child who said not to worry about anything, that he could solve any problem on his own.
He grew up so much on his own, how can we oppose someone he likes with any dignity?
You probably don’t know how amazing someone like the Crown Prince looks to an old country person like me. He scares me, like someone who can either save or kill our Hyun-soo.
But all night long, tossing and turning, the Crown Prince’s face, saying he would protect Hyun-soo, kept hovering before my eyes. How could that look be a lie?
If the two of them care for each other that strongly, what can we say?
They’re young and have a lot to do, so don’t worry about us.
But come down together whenever you feel like it. Come and have ribs or noodles.
I packed some of the seasoning I made. You can put a few dumplings in it, dissolve the seasoning, and make a stew. You don’t need to add any other seasoning, just that. Hyun-soo kept nagging me not to pack too much, so I only put in a little. Eat well, sleep well, and don’t ruin your health.
With the letter in his hand, Yoon Joo-ho stood there for a while.
He was quietly feeling the unfamiliar emotions engulfing and swallowing him. You could even call it savoring.
In the harmony he had never belonged to, he felt a sense of déjà vu, as if he had returned to a nostalgic moment in the past. And now, a longing for affection he had never received arose. Like a prodigal son returning home after a long wandering, dragging his battered body and mind, and facing a warm table.
He read the letter over and over, word by word. Twice, three times, four times…
Hoo. He took a long breath, carefully folded the letter, put it in the envelope, and neatly arranged the sealed containers in the insulated bag in the refrigerator. He headed to the bedroom and took a book from the bedside table drawer. It was a collection of philosopher Nietzsche’s sentences that Song Hyun-soo had gifted him, telling him to try writing them out.
“……”
But the page Yoon Joo-ho probably opened the most was the first page.
Song Hyun-soo’s letter.
Every time Yoon Joo-ho saw this writing, he was newly erected and fell in love anew. It was an emotion that would never erode. Song Hyun-soo’s letter-writing skills seemed to have been inherited from his grandmother.
He carefully inserted the envelope between the book pages.
“Monroe has become quite the spoiled brat in just one day?”
At the voice from the doorway, he closed the book and turned around. Song Hyun-soo, with a towel on his head and a beer in his hand, was entering the bedroom in a gown. Monroe trotted closely beside him.
“It keeps following me around. It’s not usually like this.”
“I told you. Monroe misses you.”
“You’re still not saying it’s because of you, huh?”
“Maybe.”
Not even a word about missing him. Song Hyun-soo pouted.
He found it amusing that the man who had engraved his name on his lips and held his heart in his hands was grumbling about something so trivial.
Song Hyun-soo plopped down on the sofa in front of the TV, popped open the beer can, and took a refreshing sip.
“Ah… there’s no place like home.”
And he stroked the cat that had jumped onto his lap.
“It was like this even when I lived in the rooftop room. Even after going to Grandma’s house, eating my fill of delicious food, sleeping my fill, and playing around, when I went back to that shabby rooftop room, it was so comfortable. Isn’t that weird? Right, Monroe? Don’t you think it’s weird too? Huh? Yoon Marilyn Monroe.”
Chatter chatter.
This house, which had felt so desolate last night, was now full of life. Tap tap, a rhythm is created. This must be what people commonly call ‘a house where people live.’
Yoon Joo-ho approached the sofa, sat next to him, and handed him a B4-sized envelope.
“What’s this?”
“You threatened to make me hand it over right away, and you don’t even recognize it?”
With a dazed face, Song Hyun-soo slowly blinked and took it. What came out of the envelope was a drama script for about 5 episodes.
Yoon Joo-ho, having taken a sip of Song Hyun-soo’s beer, said calmly.
“A birthday present.”
“…Are you sure it’s okay?”
“What is.”
“If I read it and like it, I’m really going to do it.”
“I know.”
“And I’ll probably like it 100% whether I read it or not.”
Fiddling with the can, Yoon Joo-ho turned to look at Song Hyun-soo next to him.
“I know. That’s why I said it’s a birthday present.”
“……”
Song Hyun-soo’s gaze was directed at the cover of the script in his hand.
Executive Producer Choi Kang-young
Written by Yang Ha-jeong
<Déjà vu>
He remained still for a moment, then rushed in and hugged Yoon Joo-ho’s neck tightly. Startled by the sudden movement, the cat jumped off the sofa and fled to its cushion.
“You’ll spill the beer, you idiot.”Thank you, senior.” I’m really going to work hard. I’m going to work hard, and I’m definitely going to do well! Yoon Joo-ho is the best! A cosmic superstar. The strongest boyfriend. I love you, brother.”
“You only love me at times like this?”
Even as he said that, Yoon Joo-ho’s gaze was warm.
Both cheeks, various spots on his lips, the bridge of his nose, between his eyebrows, his forehead… Kisses were showered all over Yoon Joo-ho’s face. Yoon Joo-ho’s lips twitched as he tried to hold back the laughter that was about to burst out. Would you do this when I give you other gifts?
He stroked Song Hyun-soo’s wet hair and asked.
“Do you like it that much?”
“Of course, I do! I have to tell Hong-seo about this too. Writer Yang Ha-jeong’s work… that guy will probably faint if he finds out?”
He was cute, unable to connect the kisses he was showering on his lover with any sexual meaning. Whether it was a five-year difference or a four-year difference, Yoon Joo-ho smiled slightly at the thought that a younger man was still a younger man, and pressed his lips deep into the nape of his neck. He smelled the same cleanser as himself.
No matter how freely or how far Song Hyun-soo flew in the outside world, if he returned to his side and shared the same scent. Then it would be okay.
Wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him closer, he rubbed his nose against his soft, cool earlobe.
“Send Monroe out.”
“…Now?”
“I don’t mind doing it in front of it.”
As if he were about to hug Song Hyun-soo and roll around on the sofa right away, Yoon Joo-ho pushed his body against him. Song Hyun-soo, grabbing Yoon Joo-ho’s wrist as he tried to pull the gown’s tie, shouted urgently.
“Ah, okay! I’ll send it out. So… wait.”
Flushed cheeks and eyes that quickly became moist. Yoon Joo-ho loved this moment when the reckless younger man suddenly became aware of him as a man.