By Zephyria 
Yi-ho bit his lip hard before letting go and finally managed to squeeze out an answer.
“…Why?”
“I have something to ask Team Leader Song.”
“I’m listening, go ahead.”
For colleagues at a typical company, the conversation was chilly, but because of the image the two had long established, people seemed to just brush it off, thinking, ‘Ah, it’s just Team Leader Cha and Team Leader Song.’
“Are you working at the office for the rest of the day?”
“…Yes. There’s an important deployment, and I have the coding class later….”
“Ah, right. You said you’d make up for the classes you missed during your business trip today.”
“Yes.”
Why did everything he said feel like an excuse? It felt as if he were pathetically explaining that he was staying for actual company work, not just to see Min-gyu.
A moment later, Min-gyu lowered his voice to a volume only Yi-ho could hear and asked.
“Will it be very uncomfortable for you to see me at the office?”
The hand that had been moving across the keyboard while pretending to be as nonchalant as possible froze at that moment.
“…Yes.”
Min-gyu removed his hand, which had been resting beside Yi-ho’s laptop.
“I see.”
He cast a brief glance at Yi-ho’s right hand before turning away. Ah. Belatedly, Yi-ho crumpled the blue pharmacy plastic bag in his hand. The small box inside was bruise cream.
I already applied cosmetics over it anyway, so even if I gave it to him at the office, he wouldn’t be able to use it. Repeating the excuse to himself, he stuffed the bag into his backpack.
They had both experienced the events of yesterday, but the degree of agitation was worlds apart. He felt wronged, his pride crushed, and hollow.
The time it took for the screen to move felt exceptionally slow. Normally, he would have leaned back and looked around, but today he kept his eyes cast down, staring only at the bumpy keyboard. Shortly after the deployment was complete and the basic checks were finished, he closed his laptop and stood up. Since it was a remote work period anyway, it would be better to spend time at a nearby cafe or pay for a day at a study room before coming back. He felt a gaze following him as he walked out of the office.
With only three classes left until the end, the number of students in the coding class had dwindled by half. Development was not a gradual hill, but rather a mountain beyond a mountain. With the hot weather and a curriculum that added a string of incomprehensible concepts every day, the class soon lost its popularity. He felt he finally understood the heart of the teaching assistant who used to process transfer applications at the end of every semester.
The scattered empty seats seemed even larger today, likely because the tall man who had occupied a seat in the classroom without fail had also disappeared.
Min-gyu did not show up for today’s class. Was the intention behind the question he asked earlier to avoid him? While it was a relief that he wouldn’t have to spend the class staring at the floor if Min-gyu were there, he couldn’t help the wave of bitterness that washed over him.
After finishing the class, Yi-ho finally set off on his way home. Summer was in full bloom, and it was still bright even at 8 PM.
He had skimped on both lunch and dinner, but he didn’t feel hungry. He just felt drained all day. Yi-ho thought this state wasn’t too bad. After going to work for the first time in a while and teaching a class, he barely had enough strength to hold the steering wheel, which cleared some of his other thoughts. Though he couldn’t do anything about the sunken mood that enveloped his body throughout.
After circling the parking lot, he finally found an empty spot, squeezed the car in, and entered his home. The house, where the cooling had been off all day, was humid. Turning on the air conditioner, Yi-ho frowned as he tossed off the socks he had worn for work. They were the gray socks Min-gyu had once secretly worn. Min-gyu clearly did it to tease him, as Min-gyu had far more socks of his own. He pulled both off and dropped them in front of the bathroom door. Looking at the disheveled heap, he felt as if he could hear a nagging voice telling him to tidy up properly. Yi-ho turned his head and walked past. They said the rainy season would start soon; the soles of his feet stuck to the wooden floor with a tacky sound.
As soon as he changed into a comfortable short-sleeved T-shirt, he sprawled out on the sofa. Having spent the weekend at his mother’s house, this was the first time he had properly faced his home since the collapse of their relationship. Now that a day had passed, it seemed no different from before.
‘Ah, was it a dream?’
The ceiling was so identical that such a foolish thought occurred to him.
While he had defended himself by saying he didn’t regret the confession, the moment he felt Cha Min-gyu’s absence, he wanted to escape from reality.
Because if he hadn’t been greedy, he might have been able to return home with Cha Min-gyu, secretly laughing together during the coding classes and calling each other strange nicknames.
Perhaps if he fell asleep like this and ended the day as usual, a normal day—spending time as Cha Min-gyu’s friend, as he had for the past 15 years—might return.
The shallow escape ended instantly with the vibration of his phone.
Cha Min-gyu
[Are you off work?]
Yi-ho’s pupils trembled. Then, message alerts began to stack up. Yi-ho flipped the phone face down on the headrest. Light flashed and flickered in the small gap between the sofa and the phone’s body before fading.
“Ha….”
The hope that it was a dream was, naturally, an illusion.
He covered his face with both hands. His body, which had stiffened in surprise, throbbed as he sank into the sofa. As expected, he was too exhausted today.
What do I do now?
Even that thought flowed sluggishly.
Whenever Yi-ho stopped thinking blankly, it was always Cha Min-gyu who pulled him back to reality. This time was no different. The ignored phone now asserted its presence by vibrating violently. Song Yi-ho, who had been covering his ears and ignoring it, eventually had no choice but to sit up after about ten minutes. Just how many calls does he intend to make?
Letting out a long sigh, Yi-ho picked up the phone.
“Hello.”
-…….
There was no answer from the other side, and then, without any greeting, he got straight to the point.
-Let’s meet and talk.
“…Cha Min-gyu.”
-I’m the one begging to meet you, so there’s nothing for your pride to be hurt over. Song-i.
“…….”
Yi-ho closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if the emotion he felt at the playfully tossed nickname was relief or emptiness.
-I’ll go to your place. Open the door.
A moment later, his breath hitched and his heart sank at the sudden statement. Yi-ho realized he was not prepared for the situation of facing Min-gyu.
“I’m… at Mother’s house right now.”
-Aha. Is your mother doing well?
“Yeah, well…. We were in the middle of eating. Hang up.”
-Then I’ll call you back in an hour.
“I don’t know if I’ll answer.”
-Ah, I guess I’ll have to start by begging you to answer the phone.
Min-gyu seemed to think differently, but for now, Yi-ho had established a justification to ignore any subsequent contact. Therefore, he brought up the words he had to say today.
“I’m sorry for hitting you.”
-…….
After Min-gyu made a short sound in his throat, footsteps were heard.
-I knew you’d pivot in that direction. Sorry, I can’t give you any more time.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang through the house. The same sound echoed through the receiver. And probably, to Cha Min-gyu as well.
-I know you just flew back home through the window from your mother’s house, so open the door.
“You crazy….”
-This is nothing.
“…….”
Yi-ho rubbed his dry face hard enough to turn it red.
“Hey, Cha Min-gyu.”
-Yeah.
“I told you I like you. That I’m a gay bastard who got turned on while looking at you when you thought we were just friends. And you want to be alone with me in my house?”
-Ha.
THUD!!
The sound that just occurred came from outside the door. The doorbell, which had stopped for a moment, rang again.
-Song-i, you call that a threat?
“…….”
-What on earth did you take it as when I said there’s no one else like you in my life?
Ding-dong. The doorbell rang again.
-Yeah. I’m dying to see my gay bastard friend’s face, so open up. Now.
“…….”
Without even a proper gap, the sound of the door lock was heard. Min-gyu was someone who knew the password to Yi-ho’s house. Before Yi-ho could spring up and grab the front door handle, the door opened.
“Song-i.”
-Song-i.
The call came simultaneously from the front and the phone. Min-gyu pressed the end-call button while looking at Yi-ho.
“Hi.”
“…….”
Regardless of how Yi-ho reacted, Min-gyu took off his shoes at the entrance and stepped inside. His movement of placing his blazer on the sofa armrest and taking a seat was natural.
After locking eyes for a moment, Min-gyu pointed to the spot beside him.
“Sit. You worked hard avoiding me all day today, so why are you still standing?”
“Ha….”
“We probably have a lot to talk about.”
Yi-ho’s face contorted. Since they would always run into each other whether at the company or in the neighborhood, it was only natural to resolve this. But still….
Regardless, the one in the weaker position right now was himself, the one who had created the situation. Yi-ho sat on the floor a short distance away from where Min-gyu pointed. With his back against the sofa, he pulled his knees together.
“…What do you want to say?”
Min-gyu looked at Yi-ho for a moment before asking.
“Since when was it?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Right….”
The stuffing of the sofa, bought cheaply from an online mall, creaked following Min-gyu’s movements. He straightened his upper body against the backrest and rested both elbows on his knees.
“Song Yi-ho, first of all, I don’t have any prejudices.”
“…….”
“Hey, you didn’t commit a crime, so why are you acting like that? Just be the chatterbox Song-i Song-i you usually are. Whether you like men or whatever, there’s no way I’d see you differently because of that.”
Ah.
Yi-ho could sufficiently guess why Min-gyu was acting this way. Cha Min-gyu couldn’t let go of Song Yi-ho even after hearing such a confession. He was trying to hold on, even if it meant a corrupted friendship.
He realized anew what kind of existence he was to Min-gyu. A heavy sense of guilt pressed down on his insides. The realization came late that Yi-ho’s explosion, born from an inability to endure, might have felt like a sudden abandonment of the relationship to him.
Even so, if Cha Min-gyu truly couldn’t bear to let go of the bond with Song Yi-ho.
“Cha Min-gyu, please pretend you didn’t hear it.”
“What? Ah, that you confessed you like me?”
Min-gyu cruelly reenacted the words Yi-ho had uttered for the first time in ten years. Yi-ho bit his lip hard before letting go.
“Yeah, that. …I originally had no intention of ever saying it. It just burst out in the heat of the moment that day. If we bury it and move on, in a few years… we’ll be able to laugh and say something like that happened. I won’t let it show in the future.”
The silence that enveloped them again made his skin prickle. He gripped his arms tightly.
“I don’t want to.”
The answer that followed was completely unexpected.
“…What?”
“I don’t want to pretend it never happened.”