By Zephyria 
He was aware that he was in the wrong. And though it was somewhat vague, he knew when things had gone awry and what he had done wrong.
It must have been the discord stemming from the phrase “a relationship that is dating, but not serious.” At that moment, Seo Chi-young should have denied those words and given a definitive answer.
Even now, though late, he wanted to say something. But he didn’t know what to say.
They hadn’t particularly discussed it. They had never shared any conversation regarding these kinds of things.
Seo Chi-young looked at him through the mirror with a troubled expression and fell silent.
“……….”
The car had just entered the residential area where Jang Ui-geon lived and was about to start climbing an incline. Jang Ui-geon, who had been silent and staring straight ahead until then, suddenly slammed on the brakes. The abrupt stop, seemingly a sudden impulse, caused Chi-young’s body to lean forward slightly.
Unlike Jang Ui-geon, who always drove smoothly and gently, this was unexpected, and Seo Chi-young looked at him in confusion. He wondered if a child had suddenly darted out in front of them, but that was unlikely in the middle of the night. He worried for a moment that they might have hit a dog or a cat, but there was no sign of that either.
“……?”
“Chi-young-ssi.”
Jang Ui-geon’s short call reached Seo Chi-young, who was anxiously scanning the front of the car. When he replied, “Yes?” and turned back to Jang Ui-geon, the other man was not looking at him, but was still staring straight ahead. After a brief pause, he asked in a stiff voice.
“Do you perhaps hate coming to my house every weekend?”
“What…?”
“In truth, you don’t want to come, but you just do because it’s hard to refuse?”
Seo Chi-young blinked for a moment, staring at him, before stammering in bewilderment.
“Uh, no, it’s not like that…”
Only then did Jang Ui-geon’s gaze shift toward Seo Chi-young. He peered into every corner of Seo Chi-young’s face as if trying to gauge if those words were true, and then, with a long sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forehead on his arm draped over the steering wheel. Even when Seo Chi-young called out in panic, “Ui-geon-ssi…?”, he didn’t answer for a while.
“I…” After starting to speak, he paused for a moment before continuing.
“Sometimes I don’t know what you’re thinking, Chi-young-ssi… whether you truly like me.”
Or perhaps—the words that faintly leaked out at the end blurred, as if he didn’t dare to finish the sentence.
Seo Chi-young stared blankly at Jang Ui-geon with wide eyes. He looked at the man lying there as if exhausted, feeling completely at a loss.
But I’m the one who doesn’t know, his lips merely trembled, whispering the words without letting them out.
He knew that Jang Ui-geon liked him. Although Jang Ui-geon usually didn’t cross the line of being ‘a friend slightly closer than a best friend,’ he wasn’t unaware that his heart was embedded in every single action.
However, he—and likewise, himself—had never clearly spoken about what they were or what they should do.
Since returning to daily life after recovering for several days at Jang Ui-geon’s house, their lives had continued just as they were now. It was certainly different from before. It couldn’t be the same as before.
Yet, if asked to define their relationship, he couldn’t do it. Because he had never heard of such a thing, nor did he know how.
“I…”
Seo Chi-young spoke softly. Jang Ui-geon was still slumped over the steering wheel without lifting his head, but it was clear he was listening to Seo Chi-young’s words.
He thought there was no need to define the relationship with words. He didn’t think they had to intentionally bring up conversations about what to do from now on or what kind of relationship they should be. If the emotions were clear, there would be no need to state what they were to each other.
But.
Seo Chi-young truly didn’t know. What kind of relationship they were.
“….A-actually, I wish you’d hold my hand normally, too.”
Having suddenly brought up an unexpected topic, Seo Chi-young shut his mouth of his own accord.
Uh, I didn’t mean to say something like this. It wasn’t as if he had planned what to say, but he hadn’t intended to say something so childish.
As Seo Chi-young lowered his head, his face turning red in an instant, Jang Ui-geon glanced up and looked at him with a strange expression. Slowly lowering his flushed face, Seo Chi-young continued stammering.
“Even if it’s not cold, just… I wish we could hold hands. ….Normally, too, even when it’s n-not Saturday or Sunday, …. and, k-k-kiss, …no, it doesn’t have to be the lips, just the cheek, or, ….no, it doesn’t necessarily have to be that, but still, just, not only on weekends but normally too, holding hands, and… …..I’d like that.”
As he spoke, he felt more and more that he had brought this up for no reason. He hadn’t wanted to say this, but since he didn’t know what he did want to say, he just kept stammering whatever came to mind. By the time he clumsily finished, his face was as red as could be.
Suddenly, he thought that maybe this was what he had wanted to say after all. He wanted to hold hands without needing the excuse of being cold, to exchange a few sweet words, and to have him stop by for a kiss and feel each other’s scent after being dropped off at home. He wanted to ensure that everything that happened on the weekends wasn’t just a delusion, and that he wouldn’t have to wonder about it all the time.
Even the smallest things.
So, while he knew that Jang Ui-geon cherished him and had a fondness beyond the ordinary—even though they had an intense physical relationship on weekends to the point where his body was so exhausted he couldn’t stand for a while—that was only for a time during the weekend. At other times, they were like people meeting outside a drawn line, and he couldn’t tell what kind of relationship they were.
Seo Chi-young couldn’t lift his lowered head. His neck was hot. His ears were hot. If he were stripped bare right now, his entire body might be bright red.
Even with his head bowed so low that his chin touched his neck, he could feel Jang Ui-geon’s gaze pouring over him. Was he looking at him in disbelief? Was it a look of disgust? Or did he think he was too lustful?
Unable to endure the long silence, Seo Chi-young murmured gloomily.
“I’m sorry. …..It’s my first time meeting someone for a long time while having such a d-deep relationship, so I just don’t know. I-I don’t know if it’s normally like this, so… uh… I think I said something unnecessary. I just thought that because I didn’t know, so it’s fine to keep things as they are. I like it as it is now. ….So, um, please just pretend you didn’t hear what I said a moment ago…”
“……..”
But it was then.
As Seo Chi-young was murmuring with his head bowed, a hand reached out roughly and gripped both his cheeks. As Seo Chi-young blinked his eyes wide and lifted his face, Jang Ui-geon leaned in toward him.
Their lips met. However, it soon became a contact so rough and violent that it could hardly be called a kiss. Seo Chi-young momentarily lost his breath at the kiss that felt as if it would suck him in entirely.
He instinctively struggled a bit, but Jang Ui-geon’s arms wrapped around him, stopping him. Seo Chi-young’s eyes were wide open, then he slowly closed them. If it was Jang Ui-geon, it didn’t matter.
The silence, filled only with rough breathing and wet sounds, stretched on. That silence was broken when another car, barely squeezing past their car which was blocking the path, honked its horn in annoyance.
Only then did Seo Chi-young snap his eyes open and twist his body in panic to push Jang Ui-geon away. Jang Ui-geon, who seemed dissatisfied and wanted to hold him for a moment longer, soon let him go obediently.
Jang Ui-geon clicked his tongue lowly and lightly stepped on the accelerator, turning the steering wheel. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and glared at the car that had just passed and moved away.
Sitting awkwardly with his head down, Seo Chi-young fidgeted with his fingers and stammered, “I-I think we were in the way because we blocked the road, shall we go home?”
However, as if he couldn’t hear Seo Chi-young’s words, Jang Ui-geon, who had been staring silently ahead, suddenly rubbed his chin roughly. Seo Chi-young looked at him curiously as Jang Ui-geon avoided his gaze, showing signs of agitation.
“I…”
Jang Ui-geon spoke abruptly, but then closed his mouth again, clutching his chin. His appearance, shifting his gaze as if unstable, was different from his usual relaxed and generous demeanor, and Seo Chi-young looked at him worriedly. Noticing Seo Chi-young’s expression, Jang Ui-geon clicked his tongue lightly.
“I thought you might actually hate dating me, Chi-young-ssi.”
At the words that flowed out like a low groan, Seo Chi-young’s eyes widened.
Hate him? That wasn’t true. ….Rather, he wasn’t even sure if the word ‘dating’ was correct, but he absolutely did not hate him. And surely, Jang Ui-geon would know that.
Without even glancing at Seo Chi-young, who was murmuring “Uh, why?” in bewilderment, Jang Ui-geon continued in a voice that was uncharacteristically anxious.
“I thought you wouldn’t hate me, but still, this relationship—I held onto you almost by force without even asking you. ….So I thought I should be satisfied if you accepted me just once a week. That I had to endure on other days.”
Jang Ui-geon fell silent. Staring blankly at his face, where a flash of bitterness momentarily crossed, Seo Chi-young suddenly thought that he might be recalling a certain day in the past.
The night they first had a relationship, when Jang Ui-geon had asked for Seo Chi-young’s intentions, already assuming that the result would be the same regardless of what Seo Chi-young answered.
Seo Chi-young had not refused.
However, Jang Ui-geon might have thought, based on the premise he had already set, that it could have been a relationship that went against Seo Chi-young’s will.
……That wasn’t the case.
Seo Chi-young had never once felt that Jang Ui-geon treated him carelessly while they were together. Just as Jang Ui-geon still held onto that trivial beginning in his memory, even though Seo Chi-young hadn’t even recalled it.
Jang Ui-geon clicked his tongue lowly and roughly swept back his fallen hair. Irritation toward himself was evident in that gesture. After clutching his hair as if anxious, he suddenly turned his head and looked straight at Seo Chi-young. He spoke word by word in a cautious yet firm tone that would not back down.
“But even so, I thought that I am the one dating you right now, Chi-young-ssi. No, I still think so. Not just seeing each other casually, but dating seriously. ….I think of you as my lover, Chi-young-ssi. And that is the truth.”
“And that is the truth,” he concluded in a slightly stiff tone, then fell silent for a moment and looked at Seo Chi-young. As if checking to see if Seo Chi-young would shake his head.
Seo Chi-young looked back at Jang Ui-geon and then slowly lowered his head. He still hadn’t grown accustomed to his direct gaze. Just facing him felt like his face was heating up.
Looking down at Seo Chi-young, the tension in Jang Ui-geon’s eyes relaxed slightly, along with a sense of relief. His voice lowered.
“I don’t know well either, Chi-young-ssi. ….This is also my first time dating someone I love. That’s why I don’t know what to do. If it’s okay to do this, or if you’ll hate it if I do that… You would probably just endure it even if you hated it, so I didn’t know what to do if the things I did were things you disliked.”
“I don’t… hate it.”
Seo Chi-young murmured abruptly with his head still down. That tiny voice, as if crawling away, was nonetheless sufficient to reach Jang Ui-geon’s ears in the quiet car. Jang Ui-geon fell silent and arched an eyebrow. Feeling that gaze above him, Seo Chi-young slowly continued.
“I don’t hate the things you do, Ui-geon-ssi. Anything. …..I’ll tell you if I hate it. I’m not saying anything because I don’t hate it.”
Anything Jang Ui-geon did, he didn’t hate.
Whether he smiled, talked, whispered, looked at him, or touched him.
He thought it was scary when he got angry, and he felt distressed when he looked at other people, but he had never once thought that he hated the human being called Jang Ui-geon. Not once.
When Seo Chi-young fell silent, silence took its place. That silence lasted a very long time, until Seo Chi-young, who had been awkwardly bowing his head, hesitantly lifted his face again.
Jang Ui-geon had a strange look on his face. Wearing a peculiar expression as if seeing something bizarre, he stared intently when his eyes met Seo Chi-young’s. Suddenly, a certain expression slowly appeared on his face. It was shy, awkward, yet contained a surging light of joy.
Hiding that face with a forced look of composure, Jang Ui-geon asked lowly.
“Is it okay if I kiss you normally, too?”
After a short pause, Seo Chi-young nodded. Seo Chi-young also wanted to do that.
“Is it okay if I stroke you normally, too? Can I hug you?”
Seo Chi-young nodded again.
Silence flowed for a while. After hesitation and silence, Jang Ui-geon asked as if whispering.
“Chi-young-ssi, tell me. What do you think our relationship is?”
Gulp. Seo Chi-young unconsciously swallowed hard. His throat suddenly felt dry.
His lips dried. Tension flowed to his fingertips, and Seo Chi-young fidgeted with his fingers.
What kind of relationship.
Jang Ui-geon had said that Seo Chi-young was his lover. That surely wouldn’t be a one-sided relationship.
“……A, a relationship to be together for f-fifty years.”
Seo Chi-young spoke so softly it was barely audible, then turned bright red, not knowing what to do and flustered.
Jang Ui-geon looked down at him with a subtle expression. His eyes, widening slightly, looked at Seo Chi-young as if not wanting to miss a single moment.
Eventually.
He whispered lowly, like a sigh.
“Please add just one more word to that. ….Please.”
The hand carefully stroking Seo Chi-young’s cheek was trembling slightly. As if he didn’t know if it was truly okay to hug him, if he could do so.
Seo Chi-young, who had unconsciously hunched his shoulders, thought that the trembling hand touching his cheek was very warm. Suddenly, his heart throbbed.
How much he had longed for this hand.
Seo Chi-young tilted his hesitating head and buried his face in the large hand that was caressing his cheek. Rubbing his face against the hand that had momentarily paused, he hesitantly kissed the palm.
From the hand containing the clumsy anxiety of a man who was confident and bold in everything else, a warm scent emanated.
“Ui-geon-ssi is my, ….lo, ….lo, ….the person I l-love.”
After whispering that, Seo Chi-young ended up looking like he was about to cry.
He wanted to say it more naturally, calmly, as if it were nothing.
That just as Seo Chi-young was Jang Ui-geon’s lover, Jang Ui-geon was also Seo Chi-young’s lover.
But for some reason, those common words wouldn’t leave his mouth.
When would he get used to it? To the heart beating so hard it felt like it was throbbing, to the point where a single word wouldn’t come out naturally.
When his heart stopped trembling, would he be able to say it naturally then? If so, it felt like that day would never come in his lifetime.
Having barely managed those words, Seo Chi-young kissed Jang Ui-geon’s palm lightly, like a kitten. That was the maximum expression Seo Chi-young could show Jang Ui-geon in this moment.
“…..I feel the same.”
It seemed Jang Ui-geon whispered that. However, Seo Chi-young couldn’t tell if he had heard correctly. Because the moment he whispered those words in his ear, he kissed Seo Chi-young, and the sensation that had seeped into his ear moved to his lips.
The lips that touched him warmly were less anxious this time. They weren’t as unstable as before. However, that sensation dug into Seo Chi-young more slowly and deeply, and Seo Chi-young, who had blinked in momentary bewilderment, soon opened his lips and welcomed him.
The person he loved.
The relationship that had clearly existed but could not be defined finally came into clear focus.
Jang Ui-geon loved Seo Chi-young. Just as Seo Chi-young did. And they both knew it.
Between the two of them, who were clumsy at everything because it was their first time dating someone they loved, it felt like a first kiss.
It was as sweet as a sip of water given to a person whose throat was burning with thirst; nothing else was visible or audible.
A couple more cars seemed to pass by them, but they were too intoxicated by each other to notice.
In that space, there were only the two of them.
“Oh,” Seo Chi-young murmured, blinking his eyes open. He must have fallen into a shallow sleep, almost as if he had briefly lost consciousness.
“………”
As he opened his eyes, he saw Jang Ui-geon lying diagonally beside him, looking down at him. As Chi-young blinked blankly two or three times, Ui-geon tilted his head. His lips lightly touched Chi-young’s forehead.
“Sleep more.”
A voice as tender as a lullaby whispered.
“Oh… yes… but…”
The lips lightly stroking his forehead tickled, making Chi-young shrink back, but he soon murmured “oh” again. He then pushed himself up from the bed.
Seeing Chi-young blink and look toward the window, Jang Ui-geon finally sat up as well, a look of curiosity on his face.
“What is it?”
“I think there’s a cat outside the window.”
Chi-young whispered, staring at the closed window. Jang Ui-geon remained silent for a moment, but after shortly hearing a faint, fragile meow, he nodded. “Ah.”
“Since it’s a hanok, stray cats occasionally wander into the inner courtyard. Sometimes I see them scurrying away when I go out to the yard at night.”
“I see…” Chi-young murmured with wonder and tried to stand up. In that moment, the strength vanished from below his waist, and he collapsed back onto the blanket in a heap. Jang Ui-geon clicked his tongue and quickly supported him.
“Are you okay?”
Hearing the low voice whispering in his ear as he was embraced from behind, naked, Chi-young felt incredibly awkward and shy—even though it wasn’t the first or second time. He shrugged his shoulders and murmured, “Yes, I’m okay.” Jang Ui-geon stayed like that for a moment, but perhaps feeling sorry that Chi-young was stiffening up, he gave the shrunk-back nape of his neck a light kiss before letting him go.
With a flushed face, Chi-young rubbed his neck and crawled on his knees toward the window.
It was the first time he had heard one from such a close distance. He had always only heard meows from far away, so hearing one that sounded as if it were right beneath the window, barely a few steps away, felt novel and welcoming. It was like the time long ago when he heard the lovely cries of a kitten that had come for the food his mother left out, meowing near the entrance.
As he softly opened the window, the chilly wind rushed in first.
It was far too cold to touch his naked skin directly, but to a body that had been burning hot until just a moment ago, it felt just right. Chi-young shrugged his shoulders for a moment and let out a pleasant sigh.
There was a young cat right below the window. It wasn’t very young; it looked as though it had learned how to survive without a mother.
However, the tabby cat, which looked to be only a few months old, must have sensed the window opening despite it being done silently, for it stared intently at Chi-young with round eyes. When their eyes met, it lowered its body slightly in caution and didn’t budge.
As Chi-young gazed blankly at the cat sitting just two or three steps away as if ready to bolt at any second, Jang Ui-geon approached from behind and draped a thin blanket over his shoulders. At that movement, the cat scurried away.
Chi-young watched the cat stop and look back once it had reached a distance it deemed safe enough. Then, in his field of vision, he saw another cat perched on the wall behind it. When the cat on the wall, which seemed fully grown, let out a small “meow,” the tabby cat leaped up beside it.
Seeing the two cats sitting quite close—about a hand’s span apart—Chi-young vaguely thought, Oh, it had a mother.
“It’s a different one. The other day, an all-black one was sitting on the front wall,” Jang Ui-geon murmured, looking out the window from behind Chi-young.
“I guess many of them come. Well, the yard is wide and there are many trees,” Chi-young murmured. Looking down at him, Jang Ui-geon spoke, as if a thought had occurred to him.
“Should I leave a food bowl in front of the door? Like at your old house, Chi-young-ssi.”
“Huh? …Uh… whatever you prefer, Ui-geon-ssi…”
Seeing the faint look of pleasure on Chi-young’s face despite his words, Jang Ui-geon chuckled. He then returned to the bed, propped his head on his arm, and lay back down.
“I’ll prepare the food and water bowls. You come by often and take care of the cat food in them, Chi-young-ssi.”
Jang Ui-geon murmured casually, as if it were nothing, then added after a short pause, “It would be good if you came every day…” After another brief pause, he glanced at Chi-young and added again:
“The cats would like it more if you fed them consistently every day rather than filling the bowls sporadically.”
“You could even just move in and stay here…” As Jang Ui-geon added this nonchalantly, Chi-young stared at him, blinking. With a face that was partly bewildered and partly shy, he looked at him that way, before his expression suddenly softened into a quiet smile.
“Even if I don’t come, you’ll take care of them, Ui-geon-ssi.”
Jang Ui-geon frowned slightly and stared silently at the ceiling. However, even without him reflecting on it, Chi-young knew for certain that he would put a handful of food in the bowls every morning before leaving. Not out of meticulous care, but simply as a matter of daily routine.
Perhaps Jang Ui-geon felt the same, as he remained lost in thought without answering for a few seconds, but soon he chuckled and shook his head.
“I won’t. So you come, Chi-young-ssi.”
Chi-young fell silent. Oh no… I shouldn’t have said that.
If he had just said nothing, Jang Ui-geon would have taken care of them even if Chi-young didn’t come. But because he had asked if he wouldn’t do it anyway, Jang Ui-geon now seemed determined not to.
Since Chi-young’s home wasn’t far, coming and going every day was no trouble, but still, somehow…
As Chi-young gazed at Jang Ui-geon with a slightly perplexed face, Jang Ui-geon gave a calm smile. He lifted the blanket he was covering himself with and spoke.
“Close the window and come back here to sleep. You must be exhausted. The night air is too cold to keep the window open now.”
Only upon hearing that did Chi-young realize his body, though wrapped in a single blanket, had cooled down to the point of goosebumps, and he hurried to close the window. He felt it himself, but he thought Jang Ui-geon, who was wearing nothing, would be cold.
As Chi-young hurriedly closed the window and turned back on his knees, Jang Ui-geon, who had the blanket lifted, lightly shook the edge of it. As if telling him to come here.
Even though they had been lying together under that blanket until just a moment ago, he couldn’t help but feel shy. With a slightly flushed face, Chi-young hesitantly approached him and slid under the blanket he was holding up.
“……My hot pack.”
A calm smile was mixed into the words Jang Ui-geon whispered. And the moment that smile fell, Chi-young lost his balance to a powerful force pulling his waist and fell with an “oh.”
Before he could regain his balance and push himself up, a hot body heat touched his chest. Not just his chest. A pleasantly hot body heat embraced him as if wrapping around his entire body.
“Oh…”
“Ah, so warm…”
A voice murmuring contentedly with a languid sigh was heard right in front of his nose.
Seo Chi-young was lying prone on top of Jang Ui-geon.
He was lying on his stomach atop Jang Ui-geon’s body, who was lying comfortably on the bedding, embraced like a small child. Jang Ui-geon’s thick arms wrapped generously around Chi-young’s back and waist, slowly patting his back.
For a while, Chi-young couldn’t move and only blinked. When crisp eyelashes touched the nape of his neck, Jang Ui-geon laughed lowly. It tickles, he thought. But as Chi-young tried to lift his head, Ui-geon reached out and gently pulled Chi-young’s head back down onto his shoulder.
“……..”
The bodies touching skin-to-skin were hot. In the room that had grown cool from the outside wind, it felt just right, but perhaps because his heart was warming, his body felt hot as well.
“…., I… I must be heavy.”
Chi-young murmured, showing signs of wanting to move off Jang Ui-geon’s body, but without loosening the arms embracing him, Jang Ui-geon laughed.
“Chi-young-ssi, it’s okay if I lie on top of you too. I’m much heavier than you.”
After laughing for a while, Jang Ui-geon whispered slowly in his ear. Chi-young looked puzzled for a moment, then blushed and stammered. “Oh, but that’s… it’s not like this…” He rambled in embarrassment, but Jang Ui-geon laughed and patted his back as if to say it was fine.
“Just stay. I like it. Because it’s warm.”
Only after hearing Jang Ui-geon’s languid murmur did Chi-young, who had been hesitating, let the tension go from his body that had been fidgeting to get up. Slowly, the tension dissolved, and his prone body clung languidly to Jang Ui-geon.
Lying on that broad and warm chest, drowsiness slowly crept in. Indeed, it was only natural, as he had spent his energy moving his body in this very bed until he had almost lost consciousness.
As Chi-young, who had been sprawled atop Jang Ui-geon with blinking, sleepy eyes, shifted his body slightly, Jang Ui-geon, who had been quietly stroking his back while embracing him, asked softly.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
“No, I’m fine, but I think you might be uncomfortable, Ui-geon-ssi.”
“I’m comfortable.”
Jang Ui-geon answered readily, as if there was no need to even think about it, then added in a quiet whisper after a moment. “I feel like I’ve finally found the place where I belong.”
Finally found the place where I belong.
Chi-young felt Jang Ui-geon’s body, fitting perfectly against his, right beneath him.
Though a few bones pressed into him here and there, he didn’t want to move away from the slow, comfortable movement of the body rising and falling with every breath. He felt as comfortable as that quiet and peaceful respiration.
Under the generous hand slowly stroking his back, Chi-young, beginning to fall into a pleasant slumber, suddenly smiled. Sensing that silent breath, Jang Ui-geon seemed to tilt his head in curiosity.
“What is it?”
“No… it’s just a bit strange.”
“What is?”
“I can’t believe you and I are like this… it feels like a d-dream. …Like I’ve received a gift that’s too good for me, something that isn’t mine…”
Becoming shy as he spoke, Chi-young stammered and trailed off.
No answer came for a while. Only the body slowly rising and falling, supporting all of Chi-young’s weight. The perfectly hot body heat, the hand stroking his back. Because these things felt so good, Chi-young closed his eyes and let out a quiet sigh.
At some point.
“It is yours, Chi-young-ssi.”
Jang Ui-geon’s low voice reached him just as he was half-fallen into a languid sleep.
Mine.
He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it, but he was so happy and glad that, in his sleep, Chi-young moved his heavy, limp arm and gently embraced Jang Ui-geon. He could feel the arms of Jang Ui-geon, who had been holding him, tighten slightly in response.
It was wonderful because it was warm. Suddenly, he thought that he had longed for such a comfortable and peaceful embrace all this time. That he had been searching for and drawing this place without even knowing it.
Finally.
Chi-young wanted to hold this warm and generous embrace a bit tighter, but there was no strength left in his sleep-heavy arms. But that was okay. He felt a sensation close to certainty that he would continue to be in that place.
So, Chi-young let out a long, relieved sigh.
“…..Chi-young-ssi?”
Suddenly, it seemed a quiet voice called him.
The tender voice seeped low into his ear, but he didn’t want to answer. In this moment, a peaceful rest like a dream was arriving distantly, and Chi-young wanted to entrust his consciousness to it.
I’m sorry. I’ll answer later. I’ll answer when I wake up, so please call me again then. Anytime.
To Chi-young, who buried his face in Jang Ui-geon’s chest in a daze and breathed evenly, he spoke no more. Only the slow, rhythmic patting of his hand continued.
—I’m the one.
After a bit more time had passed, he seemed to hear a low whisper.
—I’m the one who can’t believe someone like you came to me. You are radiant and I am insignificant… you are far too good for me.
That whisper, which felt more like talking to himself than to someone else, lingered in Chi-young’s ear before melting away. No, that’s not true, an answer flickered in Chi-young’s consciousness, but even that melted away into the far side of the unconscious.
—But this is my place now. This is where I belong.
It felt as if whispering lips touched his forehead.
He held Chi-young tightly. Carefully, so as not to wake him from his sleep, yet so that no one could pull him away from his arms.
And in that moment, even while drifting distantly in sleep, Chi-young murmured inwardly, Ah. This is it.
He felt a sense of comfort, as if he had finally returned home after wandering a forest path in the middle of the night. The feeling of being where he was supposed to be.
At the same time, he thought.
He felt certain that the other man was feeling the same relief he was feeling right now.
The place where I belong.
The place where he belongs.
With his consciousness blurring in a daze, he couldn’t think of anything else, but this much was certain.
Nothing was going wrong, and they were in the place they were supposed to be—in the place given to them.