By Zephyria 
Min-ho didn’t toss and turn until they arrived at the parking lot. He couldn’t let him sleep in such an uncomfortable position, so he had to wake him, but since Min-ho was someone who was chronically sleep-deprived, he felt bad about disturbing him. After contemplating for a moment, Gyu-oh turned off the engine. Just until he woke up. He’d probably wake up soon anyway.
He unbuckled his own seatbelt and then reached for the passenger seat buckle. While the small click echoed, Gyu-oh continuously checked on Min-ho. Keeping his gaze on the quietly resting eyelashes, he slowly released the belt. Fortunately, Min-ho did not wake.
“……Is it, a bit too close?”
Because he had leaned his upper body far over, the two were pressed close together. Under the sensor light illuminating the parking lot, Min-ho’s features were clearly revealed. Gyu-oh held his breath for a moment and took in Min-ho’s appearance. A jawline that had become sharper as he lost a bit of weight recently, and the shadows around his eyes. And from his slightly parted lips, a warm breath flowed.
Had he ever seen Cha Min-ho’s face this close? Because they had always maintained a proper distance, seeing Hyung’s face from such a short distance felt almost unfamiliar. He knew he was handsome, but now that he looked, there seemed to be a slightly strange atmosphere…
“…….”
It was extremely uncomfortable because he was straining to keep his tilted body from touching, but Gyu-oh continued to stare into Min-ho’s face for a long time. A heavy silence descended, so much so that the sound of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down felt loud. Even then, the persistent gaze continued. Until the sensor light illuminating the parking lot went out.
“Ah.”
Startled by the sudden darkness, Gyu-oh pulled his body back. Thump, thump—a violent pulse echoed through the dark. Min-ho’s neatly closed eyes remained as an afterimage, flickering before him. After blinking a few times, the vivid afterimage soon blended into the darkness.
It’s a shame.
He quickly shook his head to brush away the vague thought.
He needed something to focus on. As soon as he reached that conclusion, he took out his phone and started a game. Pop, beep. He turned the sound effects—which didn’t suit the darkness at all—to the lowest setting and fixed his gaze on the screen.
About thirty minutes passed like that. Min-ho began to stir. Gyu-oh turned off the phone without lingering and shoved it into his shirt’s front pocket.
“You awake?”
“……Mmm.”
A long, drawn-out sound of a breath echoed instead of an answer. Min-ho, who had been completely buried in the seat, lifted his head.
“……When did we arrive?”
“Just parked. I was going to wake you, but you woke up just in time.”
“Really?”
The end of his sentence trailed off, clinging to fatigue and sleepiness. Gyu-oh reached out and covered Min-ho’s eyes. Only after a body temperature slightly higher than usual touched his palm did he turn on the light. The sudden light stung the eyes, but Min-ho’s dry eyes were the priority.
“Light’s on.”
“Uh-huh.”
Swallowing a laugh at the dim-witted response, Gyu-oh first opened his fingers slightly to let him adjust to the light, then slowly removed his hand. Looking at the lowered head of Min-ho, who was quietly accepting his touch, Gyu-oh bit his lip. Even if he’s a person who is only dry and sharp when awake, he has moments of being this defenseless.
“Did I leave my tie behind?”
Min-ho, who blinked a few times, fumbled around his neck.
“Mister, you’re holding it in your other hand.”
Only then did he seem to notice the opposite hand resting quietly on his thigh, and he gripped the tie tightly. A dazed mutter followed immediately.
“Ah, right.”
As he roughly swept back his hair, the neat locks became disheveled. When he watched dramas, fathers coming home from company dinners always acted like this. The fact that just a few glasses could create such an atmosphere made him want to laugh, but he held it in. If he mocked him, it was obvious he’d be glared at with fierce eyes.
“Let’s get out.”
“Ah, why is my body so stiff?”
It was probably because he’d been sitting and sleeping for thirty minutes. Without adding any words, Gyu-oh got out of the car. All the way to the elevator, Min-ho continuously turned and massaged his neck. He did feel a regret that he should have woken him instead of leaving him in an uncomfortable position, but he was glad that his face looked less tired than before.
“That Son Pro bastard, I think he’s entangled with the Executive Director.”
“Yeah?”
Gyu-oh, who had just caught the elevator waiting in the basement, gestured with his chin. He followed after Min-ho stepped inside first.
“I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is, but the atmosphere is like that. They probably aren’t just people who play golf together.”
Min-ho pressed the button and tilted his head crookedly. With an expression that didn’t look like someone who had just woken up, he inhaled through his teeth.
“Is there anything to be entangled over?”
Gyu-oh couldn’t fully concentrate on the conversation. It was because his entire attention was captured by the silhouette reflected in the elevator door.
“I just can’t gauge what it is.”
Muttering while tilting his head, Min-ho rubbed his eyes vigorously with the back of his hand. The touch was so rough that the tie held in his hand trailed long and swayed here and there. Gyu-oh unconsciously stopped that movement. Even knowing that Min-ho’s gaze, with one eye tightly shut, was directed toward him, he stubbornly looked straight ahead.
“They say you’ll hurt your eyes if you do that.”
“Uh-huh.”
“…….”
Whether it was the remaining effects of the alcohol, Min-ho readily accepted it and relaxed his hand. As he lowered his gaze, he saw the limp tie in Min-ho’s hand brushing against his thigh. It was a touch so light it was barely felt, yet for some reason, an unbearable itch spread.
“There must be many people clinging to the Executive Director. Let’s shift our direction toward Son Pro. He might be closer than we think.”
“……Got it. I’ll look into it too.”
Even with one eye red from rubbing it hard, he continued to talk about work. Looking at him, he acted like a person who had nothing in his life but work. That was admirable and impressive, but… Gyu-oh suddenly wondered what it would be like if all that interest were poured onto him.
Zzzing. The elevator opened its doors wide as if it had finished its job. Min-ho let out a long yawn and led the way. As he brushed past, the bitter smell of alcohol lingered at the tip of Gyu-oh’s nose. He hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol, but his stomach began to churn as if he were drunk. Why is he like this today? Gyu-oh closed his eyes and let out a long, hot breath.
Zzzing, the closing elevator door made a clunking sound and opened again. With a tired face, Min-ho reached out, holding the open button and looking back inside.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“……Uh, I’m coming.”
Gyu-oh scratched his furrowed brow and stepped forward. It seemed he had overdone it as well. His condition was really not great. Clenching his hand, which felt tingly as if electricity were running through it, he followed Min-ho. From the man half a step ahead, a scent that continued to make his insides fluctuate was scattering.
* * *
Gyu-oh woke up as soon as it hit 6 o’clock and headed to the kitchen. As if it were his own home, he rummaged through the kitchen and took out four packs of ramen and a large pot.
Min-ho didn’t usually eat breakfast, but as long as Gyu-oh stayed at the house, he had to shove something into his mouth. Especially since he seemed to have drunk quite a bit yesterday, he’d need a hangover cure. Though he didn’t know if a few glasses were enough to cause a hangover.
It was while he was excitedly filling the water, thinking about being praised.
“Why ramen for breakfast?”
Amidst the rushing sound of water, a deeply sunken voice intervened. Now that he looked, Min-ho’s eyes were slightly swollen and there was a pillow mark on his cheek. He must have slept deeply. Gyu-oh didn’t know why, but he felt proud. The corners of his mouth slowly crept up.
“Funny. You’ll probably eat it all anyway.”
“…….”
Min-ho, scratching his nape, trudged lifelessly toward the bathroom. Gyu-oh began tearing open the ramen packets, contemplating how many eggs to put in.
As soon as Gyu-oh set down the appetizingly boiled ramen along with bowls, chopsticks, and drinking water, Min-ho stepped out of the bathroom, shaking out his hair.
“The smell is killer.”
Whether the scent of the ramen had whetted his appetite or not, he pulled out a dining chair, stopping his hair-drying mid-way.
“Right? It doesn’t just smell killer; this is the kind of ramen where one person dies because they’re fighting over it. People get into real brawls because they want it all for themselves.”
“Am I the one who’s going to die?”
“No way. We’re sharing it amicably.”
Gyu-oh quickly scooped noodles and broth into Min-ho’s bowl and handed it over. Then, like a chef awaiting a critique, he leaned his upper body forward, staring intently at Min-ho’s every move. Whenever Min-ho picked up his spoon to sip the broth, Gyu-oh swallowed his dry spit in tandem.
“Refreshing, right? Clears your system right out?”
Instead of answering, Min-ho gave a single nod. To some, it might have been a half-hearted reaction, but Gyu-oh was simply happy, knowing that this was the maximum level of praise for him.
“As expected. You can’t ignore twenty years of ramen-cooking experience. When it’s boiling, you have to keep lifting the noodles to let them hit the air—”
“Shut up and eat. Before I actually make this a ‘one person dies’ kind of ramen.”
“Mm-hmm.”
A faint smile escaped, but Gyu-oh knew that if he were caught smiling, Min-ho might just throw the chopsticks and walk away. Gyu-oh, who had been attacking the ramen with a posture almost burying his nose in the bowl, suddenly snapped his head up. He locked eyes with Min-ho, who was just filling his second bowl.
“Director, I’ll give you today’s schedule briefing.”
“All of a sudden?”
“Lunch is bulgogi hot pot, tea time at the cafe around 3 PM, and beef for a healthy dinner at 7 PM.”
Since he had noodles for breakfast, he needed to make sure Hyung had hearty meals for lunch and dinner, and he had to provide caffeine transfusions in between so Hyung wouldn’t get irritable. As he rattled off the list, Min-ho let out a scoffing laugh and interrupted.
“Why is the whole schedule just eating?”
“Correction. Head straight to the gym after finishing work at 7 PM.”
At the mention of the gym, Min-ho agreed, noting that his body did feel stiff.
“Shower, eat beef, then drop me off and pick me up.”
“Where are you going?”
“You said Son Pro seems to be hiding something. I need to dig into that.”
Even if it had been said under the influence of alcohol, Min-ho had emphasized it several times, so Gyu-oh had to step up and investigate first. Otherwise, Hyung would surely try to handle it alone and end up running around frantically. While he might not be of great help to Min-ho, Gyu-oh was confident he could at least reduce the amount of work Min-ho had to do.
“Ah. I could dig into it myself.”
“I’ll start making my rounds from today too.”
Min-ho nodded slowly. Since he had so much work, he didn’t bother stopping Gyu-oh from taking over this one task.
“But where did you leave your car that you’re asking me to drop you off?”
“…….”
“And the motorcycle?”
“They went to the hospital.”
It was, of course, a lie. The car and motorcycle were waiting patiently for him in the parking lot. The reason he made up such a story was… to instill a sense of responsibility in Hyung so he wouldn’t wander off again while Gyu-oh was away.
He couldn’t tell you how anxious he had been during the few days he left Hyung alone while trailing that cult pastor. Although he had received a promise not to go out, there was always the chance that some strange derelict might show up at the office or home.
“Hospital? Why?”
“They said they’re sick. I acted as the driver yesterday, so Hyung should do it too.”
“Too much trouble.”
Gyu-oh knew he wasn’t being sincere and wasn’t saying it with any ill intent, but his heart still sank for a moment.
“No. Don’t find me troublesome.”
“…….”
“It’s foul play for Hyung to find me troublesome. Don’t you know?”
“Foul play is also a skill.”
The conversation remained as empty as usual, but for some reason, Gyu-oh felt his appetite suddenly vanish. Why did he feel a sense of disappointment in that brief moment?
The question that suddenly surfaced continued to follow Gyu-oh thereafter.