By Zephyria 
The company building was dark, well past clock-out time. The first-floor cafe that closed early and the lobby that had been bustling during the day were silent. The moment the emergency exit door swung open, the sound of whistling scattered. Gyu-oh hurried his pace, shaking off the hair that had been messed up by his helmet. Every time his sneakers touched the polished floor, a small, squelching sound echoed.
Standing before the elevator, Gyu-oh frowned and clicked his tongue.
“Is there anyone else working overtime besides Cha Min-ho?”
The elevator, which must have been busy going up and down all day, only had one unit running at night. Yet, some crazy person was working overtime at this hour; the numbers on the display panel kept increasing. The number had already far exceeded 10.
“Is this place cursed?”
Waiting to ride it would have been sufficient, but standing still in one place to kill time didn’t suit his personality. It’s better to move the body so useless thoughts don’t creep in.
He immediately pushed open the adjacent emergency exit door. Then, he strode up the stairs, taking them three or four at a time. It was dark and gloomy, with only the guide lights on, but Gyu-oh silently checked the floor numbers and moved his legs diligently. Perhaps because he had come with a determined purpose, his steps felt light.
He finally arrived at the 9th floor, where Min-ho’s office was located. Passing the desk where only the line lighting was on, he familiarly grabbed the doorknob.
Rattle. However, contrary to his expectations, the door did not open.
“What?”
There’s no way he’s not here. Is he sleeping inside? Did he lock it because he didn’t want to be disturbed? He did occasionally lock the door from the inside to focus on work. Recalling Mu-gyeong’s words that Min-ho had been more sensitive lately, he familiarly entered the password.
This time, the doorknob turned smoothly, and darkness poured through the gap. He had assumed the lamp illuminating the desk would be on, but the interior was pitch black.
“…Sleeping?”
Making a few assumptions, he cautiously stepped inside. Whether it was because he had run up the stairs, or because the unfamiliar darkness felt strange, his heart beat rapidly and his breath was short.
He carefully headed toward the sofa, but the figure he was looking for was nowhere to be seen. It hadn’t even been 30 minutes since the last report from the youngest.
“Where did he go?”
Could the person who called the elevator earlier have been Hyung? Gyu-oh moved quickly and pressed the switch. In an instant, the space brightened, and the empty interior was revealed starkly. Everything was neatly organized, just as it was when he left for the day. The jacket that should have been hanging on the rack was also gone. He let out a hollow laugh at the unexpected failure.
“…Hah.”
Did he notice he was being watched? So he bolted the moment he realized he’d shaken the tail? There was a possibility. Just as he was enduring an inexplicable irritation, sweeping his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something caught Gyu-oh’s eye. It was a small, crumpled clump of paper that didn’t fit the well-organized space.
“What’s that?”
He wasn’t the type of person to leave trash behind. At the same time he thought it was strange, his feet moved on their own. Without hesitation, Gyu-oh unfolded the piece of paper.
“Grand… Room 2109?”
Scribbled numbers that didn’t fit the setting and a few meaningless doodles were mixed together. It looked as if he had scribbled it while on a boring phone call. As Gyu-oh stared at the letters, his brow furrowed sharply. It was only a matter of time before he realized what this memo meant.
“Oh, fuck.”
He stuffed the crumpled paper into his pocket and hurriedly pulled out his phone. He brought up a name he had wanted to call several times but had suppressed, and pressed the call button.
He ran back to the elevator, but the lift was staying on the 1st floor. He saw the arrow pointing upward, but unable to endure that brief moment, he dashed back into the emergency exit. Thump, thump. As he descended the stairs three or four at a time, his pulse raced wildly.
He didn’t know how to define the emotion he was feeling. It felt like an anxiety that drained all the blood from his body, or a void like losing something he had finally grasped in his hand. Regardless, it was certainly unpleasant. He called the disconnected phone again and again, but it never connected.
“Fuck, what is he doing not picking up?”
Passing the 1st floor, he headed straight for the underground parking lot. With a bang, he pushed open the heavy emergency exit door and scanned the area quickly. The sensor lights turned on one by one, tracing a path. He immediately sprinted along the lit path. Tap, tap. Only the urgent sound of footsteps filled the quiet parking lot. As soon as he turned the corner, a familiar back came into view.
“Hyung!”
The face that turned around at the short call was indeed the person he was looking for. He looked even more gaunt than in the photos, appearing utterly exhausted. Turning his body with slow movements, Min-ho didn’t seem particularly surprised to see him.
“Coming to work at this hour?”
That was all he asked, glancing briefly at his wristwatch. Gyu-oh ran so fast his hair became completely disheveled and stopped in front of Min-ho. Perhaps because they were close enough for their shadows to overlap at their feet, he could tell that a faint smell of cigarettes was wafting from Min-ho.
“No, I came to pick you up, Hyung.”
He caught his breath and answered, pretending to be as nonchalant as possible. At that, Min-ho immediately dragged out the end of his words, showing his predicament.
“Ah…”
“Why? You’re going home, aren’t you?”
“…”
Even though he tried not to show it, anxiety kept getting ahead of him. He reached out and carefully gripped Min-ho’s sleeve. Taking half a step closer, he met his eyes.
“You’re going home, right?”
He added the words again, clumsily inducing the answer he wanted, but Min-ho only silently bit his chapped lower lip.
Click, click. The sensor lights began to turn off from the end of the path the two had passed. Soon, it would be the darkness’s turn to swallow the two figures. Contrary to Gyu-oh’s anxious heart, Min-ho’s voice was utterly calm.
“I’m not.”
“What time is it? When on earth are you planning to leave—”
“You noticed, didn’t you? Where I’m going.”
The dry response left Gyu-oh speechless. He had tried his best to block it, but a sense of helplessness washed over him, realizing that in the end, there was nothing he could do with his own strength. He could have just continued pretending not to know, as he had before. But he couldn’t do that anymore. Once he crossed the line, taking two more steps was easy.
“Don’t go.”
You went to a hotel a few days ago, so where are you going now? Those words couldn’t bring themselves to come out.
“…”
With the hand that had been holding the shirt sleeve, he gripped Min-ho’s wrist tightly. Even though he applied considerable force, Min-ho gave his hand without much resistance.
“Who is it? Who are you going to meet?”
Even while asking as if he didn’t know, the image of Son Pro’s body and his insidious gaze, hovering around Hyung, kept flashing in his mind.
“What do you care?”
There wasn’t a single shred of life in that raspy voice. A couple of undone shirt buttons and a slightly loosened tie. Even the jacket, which he wasn’t wearing but was just clutching in one hand. Seeing with his own eyes that Min-ho was screaming with his whole body that he had been pushed into a corner made Gyu-oh’s heart grow urgent.
“What do I care? I have to make sure you don’t meet them.”
“Forget it, don’t worry about it and just go.”
Min-ho seemed to slightly lift the hand holding the jacket, then simply turned his body away. Perhaps he assumed Gyu-oh would let go of his gripped wrist, as he didn’t even show the courtesy of telling him to let go.
“…I don’t want to. You’re going to meet Son Pro right now, aren’t you?”
Grand, Room 2109. Imagining Hyung tangled up with Son Pro there, a hot emotion surged. Whether it was childishness, stubbornness, or jealousy, he didn’t know the form, but it was clearly a powerful emotion that occupied Gyu-oh in an instant. So, he gripped Cha Min-ho even tighter.
“It hurts.”
Instead of an answer, he muttered something else. The gaze glancing at the gripped wrist was already slightly furrowed. A cold look followed, but Gyu-oh did not back down.
“No. You can’t go.”
Even as he did this, he didn’t know what right he had to act this way. He had always respected Hyung’s choices and merely watched. Why was he suddenly crossing the line to this extent? He didn’t know himself, so how could Min-ho know the reason?
“I told you to stop interfering. There’s nothing you can do for me.”
“…Why isn’t there?”
To be honest, he was also flared up. He prided himself on knowing everything about Min-ho and being the one who could handle Hyung the best. He couldn’t accept that there was a part of Hyung that he couldn’t satisfy. He wondered if these were emotions that should exist between a normal brother and younger brother, but he deliberately ignored that question.
Min-ho, whose lips trembled as if hesitating, took a deep breath. Blink, blink. The darkness that swept in as the sensor lights turned off was now imminent. As he swallowed dry spit from the pointless tension, bloodshot eyes turned toward him.
“I’m going to a hotel.”
“No.”
“Why is everything ‘no’?”
A hollow laugh escaped lips that were severely chapped.
“Anyway, you can’t. Stay with me. I’ll let you rest.”
Usually, if he insisted like this, Min-ho would give in as if he couldn’t win. But today, his attitude was different from usual. He didn’t even blink at Gyu-oh’s stubborn insistence. He only moved his lips weakly.
“The partner is just someone with a body, regardless of whether they’re a man or a woman, and I need sleep.”
“…”
“Maybe it’ll help things go well with work.”
There was no reproach in that deeply sunken voice, nor was there a tone of finding him annoying. He was simply blunt, as if reciting a fact. Every time that cracked voice reached his ears, his chest tightened strangely.
“I’m going because once we roll around, we both get what we want.”
“…”
“Listening to some fucking concerto isn’t enough anymore… what can you possibly do?”
Min-ho muttered that and smiled faintly. At that exhausted smile, Gyu-oh had to bite the inside of his cheek.