By Zephyria 
Pyong, pyong. Game sound effects filled the quiet office. Gyu-oh, who was playing the game with great intensity, checked on Min-ho from time to time. Min-ho didn’t seem to mind the rather loud sound effects. He was busy alternating his gaze between the documents and the monitor, pushing up his glasses.
“What are you staring at?”
Even then, he seemed to have noticed Gyu-oh’s gaze.
“Monitoring to see if you’re doing anything else.”
“You took my phone; how could I possibly do anything else?”
The object in Gyu-oh’s hand was Min-ho’s phone. It was his first time playing a game with this device, so it didn’t feel natural in his hand, yet he had been doing this for an hour already.
“You never know.”
In truth, his objective lay elsewhere than the game. This morning, he had accidentally seen a greasy text from that guy called Son Pro saying, ‘Hope you got home safe yesterday ^^’. If this guy harbored any ulterior motives and tried to flirt, Gyu-oh would have to be the one to draw a proper line.
His gaze shifted to the top of the screen. The battery was slightly under 50 percent, and another text had piled up in the meantime. From the preview, it seemed to be something along the lines of worrying if he was too busy, and it was obviously greasy without even looking.
It was then. A knock sounded without any prior notice from the secretary. There weren’t many people who could come and go from this office without going through the secretary.
“Yes, come in.”
Gyu-oh intercepted the answer for Min-ho, who was focused on the documents. He felt Min-ho’s gaze shift toward him as he parted his lips and took off his glasses.
“Coffee.”
The one who entered, thrusting forward a carrier containing coffee cups, was Hong-ju. He was the partner of Mu-gyeong, who worked with them, and an employee at the first-floor cafe; he often brought up snacks like this.
“Oh, we didn’t order coffee.”
“I saw you passing by earlier and you looked tired.”
Hong-ju’s eyes turned toward Min-ho, who was pressing his eyelids after removing his glasses. Even a brief glance must have revealed his fatigue.
“What kind of luck did that Hyung have to end up with a small, cute, and precious chestnut like this? Does Mu-gyeong Hyung have any conscience left? I told you to check for hair on it last time.”
Hong-ju didn’t even pretend to listen, placed a cup of coffee in front of Gyu-oh, and breezed past him.
“Hong-ju-ssi? Hey? Hello? Can’t you hear me?”
And without stubbornly looking back, he placed a cup of coffee in front of Min-ho as well.
“Hello? Is that decaf?”
The one asking was Gyu-oh, but the answer—that it wasn’t decaf—was given to Min-ho. The problem was that Gyu-oh could hear it clearly too.
“Hong-ju-ssi. There’s a person here toooo.”
Even when he waved his hand to get attention, only Min-ho’s mocking gaze returned.
“Fine. Ignoring him is the answer.”
“…I’m not ignoring him, I just don’t know how to react when Viper acts like that.”
‘Viper’ was a nickname he had earned years ago while drifting through gambling dens during an undercover mission, and Hong-ju still called him that. He had numerous names from every infiltration, but Min-ho had even saved him as ‘Viper’ in his phone, saying it was the most fitting.
“There’s no need to react to anything that Viper bastard says. Got it?”
“Betrayal, pure betrayal. After all the way I raised you.”
As if the lamentation wasn’t even audible, the two were busy continuing their own conversation.
“Is the remaining one for Mu-gyeong? He must be somewhere right now.”
“This one is mine. They say it’ll take about two hours.”
He probably had free time and didn’t want to wait alone. Seriously, unlike those dark-hearted humans, everything he does is just cute. Gyu-oh rested his arm on the back of the chair, quietly watching the two of them.
“Wait here. Just don’t flirt with Viper.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Hong-ju gave a polite bow, took his share of the coffee, and settled quietly on the sofa.
“…Hmm.”
But since when did those two become so close? He looked so accustomed to it, as if waiting here wasn’t a one-time thing. Did this happen often when I wasn’t around? As far as he remembered, there had always been a moderate distance between the two.
He narrowed his eyes and looked back and forth between them. However, since neither paid him any attention, the suspicion didn’t last long.
About an hour passed. A notification rang on Gyu-oh’s phone. Hong-ju, who had been leaning in close to Min-ho to watch a video, flinched.
“You were surprised. Sorry.”
Gyu-oh quickly turned off the alarm and played the video again, handing the phone back to Hong-ju. Then he headed toward the desk. As he got closer, Min-ho’s gaze, which had been staring at the monitor with hollow eyes, shifted to him.
“What.”
“Nap time.”
“Ah.”
This was the most important part of the daily routine. The time Min-ho spent closing his eyes was still less than an hour. Still, Gyu-oh felt it was enough that he could let him rest for a moment.
Min-ho, who used to wave him off saying it was unnecessary, now seemed accustomed to it; he took off his glasses and stood up. As he left his seat, he added a brief explanation so Gyu-oh could continue the work. Gyu-oh, holding the mouse and nodding, pushed his back, telling him to just go, and only then did Min-ho trudge away.
“A nap?”
Hong-ju, who must have been facing this situation for the first time, stared at Min-ho with wide eyes. Min-ho, scratching his eyebrow awkwardly, replied with an uneasy smile.
“He’s just telling me to close my eyes for a bit.”
“Ah.”
“Hong-ju-ssi, you know how to use YouTube, right?”
“Yes, what should I play?”
Watching Hong-ju quickly adjust the phone, Gyu-oh rested his chin on his hand and observed the situation with interest. He was very much looking forward to what would happen next. Min-ho, who didn’t lie down but leaned his body completely against the back of the sofa and covered himself with his jacket, paused. A look of embarrassment quickly flashed across his face, and simultaneously, the corners of Gyu-oh’s mouth curled up silently.
“Alone…”
“Yes?”
“’Lonely puppy sleep…’ Just type that much. The one at the very top.”
“…….”
The round eyes blinked rapidly, as if asking what on earth he was talking about. Receiving that blatant gaze, Min-ho cleared his throat for no reason and pulled the jacket all the way up to his shoulders.
“It’s, a musical piece, and it’s good because it’s mixed with the sound of rain.”
“Ahhh. This is it…”
Seeing the scene where a strange sense of embarrassment flowed, Gyu-oh burst into laughter.
“Puhaha!”
Eventually, he slapped the desk with his palm and laughed, his shoulders shaking. The quiet office was filled with Gyu-oh’s laughter.
“Ah, seriously, this is freaking hilarious. Why couldn’t you just say ‘Music for a lonely puppy to sleep to’?”
“…Shut up and laugh. You’re noisy.”
Min-ho glared at him with an expression as cold as a winter wind, then whipped the jacket over his head. Soon after, Hong-ju must have started the video, as a calm melody mixed with the sound of rain began to flow. The laughter only grew louder. Feeling Hong-ju’s gaze glancing at him as if wondering if this was right, Gyu-oh wiped the corners of his eyes with his fingertips. He didn’t know how long it had been since he laughed enough to bring tears to his eyes.
“What that is, is that Hyung’s lullaby.”
“It’s just because I’m used to it. You’re the one who played it for me first.”
Min-ho shouted loudly from under the jacket. Gyu-oh covered his mouth and giggled.
“It’s funny, so what can you do?”
At first, after finding out the title of the video, Min-ho had glared fiercely and cursed. The fact that he had since memorized the title and knew exactly what to type for the video to appear was simply hilarious.
“…I’ll be quiet.”
A voice, shrinking enough to be buried by the rain-sound mixed musical piece, was added. At that, Min-ho whipped the jacket back. With messy hair and reddened eyes, he pretended to be flustered.
“No, you can talk. As long as he keeps his mouth shut.”
He pointed to Gyu-oh not with a finger, but with a jerk of his chin. His eyes were still fixed on Hong-ju. If he was going to point someone out, shouldn’t he at least glance this way? Such a thought vaguely bloomed.
“I’m not sleeping, I’m just resting with my eyes closed. Don’t mind me.”
“Yes.”
Even if that Hyung acts sharp here and there, he’s especially weak toward Hong-ju. He was just scolding me to be quiet a moment ago. Perhaps because he had been intervening in Hyung’s private life often lately, subtle emotions kept popping up. You couldn’t exactly call this jealousy, but…
“…….”
Wait. Then, what should I call it? He couldn’t find a precise answer to the question that suddenly occurred.
He glanced at the form of Min-ho, who had covered himself with the jacket again and buried himself deep in the sofa without a single movement. Because all his attention was focused on the question that had risen once more, the smile remaining on his lips gradually faded. Of course, Gyu-oh remained unaware of it until the end.
* * *
He sat in the office with the lights dimmed, leaving only a single lamp on. Since it had been raining since morning and he had drawn the curtains, the space felt exceptionally dark.
“Haa.”
As he leaned back into the chair, it tilted to a comfortable angle with a small friction sound, creak. Perhaps because he had been reading text all day, his eyes were not just dry but stinging. Min-ho closed his eyes and calmly organized the thoughts crowded with words in his head.
“One shot…”
The T Corporation complex development center was a large-scale project, so the psychological warfare before the actual start was intense. Several construction companies had already openly announced they would jump into the contract acquisition, and there were likely places like Woowon preparing under the radar. He was confident about passing the first round of documents, but there were too many companies intentionally contacting T Corporation. These days, he worried that he lacked that ‘one shot’ to win the contract fairly and squarely.
If he knew what was entangled with Son Pro, a clue might appear. But he hadn’t caught any significant lead yet. He took off his glasses, perched them on his head, and pressed the bridge of his nose as if massaging it. As a cool sensation spread, the words Gyu-oh always spat out like a joke came to mind.
‘Stop doing that. You really look like an old man.’
I wonder if I still look like an old man. Min-ho let out a small laugh and pulled his glasses down back onto the bridge of his nose. As he pushed off the floor with his feet, the chair swayed slightly from side to side. Rain continued to lash against the window, and occasionally lightning flashed, illuminating the darkness. No thunder followed.
“Quite a racket.”
It was unnecessarily unsettling. Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, Min-ho spun the chair around. The documents he had been examining until a moment ago were spread out in disarray, and the laptop screen had since turned black. A pen with its cap off had rolled away at some point and stopped precariously on the edge of the desk. Its instability felt a lot like his own current state.
“…….”
He snatched the pen just before it fell and bowed his head again. His neck was stiff from looking at materials all day, but he knew that clues only reveal themselves when you look deeply.