By Zephyria Yoon Joo-ho took out his cigarette pack and offered it, but Song Hyun-soo shook his head. High above Yoon Joo-ho’s head, the short winter sun burned red.
“I like it when Sunbae gives me acting lessons.”
“…”
“I like it that you practice with me specially.”
Tapping the toe of his sneaker against the building wall, Song Hyun-soo glanced at Yoon Joo-ho intermittently.
“I was happy when you asked me to sign a contract. After all, it meant you acknowledged my potential.”
“…”
“As long as it’s not just because of physical attraction.”
“Have we slept together enough for physical attraction to develop?”
“That may be true, but…”
“Besides, I already said that’s not the case.”
“I know. So, please keep making me believe that.”
Yoon Joo-ho turned to him. Either his cap was too big or his head was too small, but it was pulled down so low that his eyes were barely visible. Still, if it were him, he was confident he could recognize this person as Yoon Joo-ho even from several meters away.
He met Yoon Joo-ho’s gaze, searching for his eyes deep under the brim.
“I hate feeling like I owe Sunbae. I don’t want to be involved in that kind of relationship.”
“You might not realize it, but that kind of relationship is the most certain.”
He took a drag from the filter, exhaled the smoke, and added with a sigh.
“It’s the messiest, and at the same time, the most tenacious.”
Debts, obligations, mutual interests. When those are involved, at least one of them tries not to let go of the string. — As if he had experience suffering from such messy and tenacious relationships, Yoon Joo-ho’s tone was calm yet bitter.
“Make me a top star. Then I’ll move into that house with the money I earn.”
“Until then, you’ll endure a windy rooftop room, or even worse?”
“Do you hate me living in a small, cold house?”
“…”
“Are you heartbroken?”
“…It’s an investment to make you a top star.”
As Song Hyun-soo leaned his face close to the edge of his emotions, Yoon Joo-ho turned his head again, refusing to show his true feelings.
“Then I can’t move in there either. No, even if you and I were dating, I wouldn’t want that.”
Song Hyun-soo’s voice trembled slightly.
The more he spoke, the less anger he felt, and the more sadness grew. He didn’t want to grab the man in front of him by the collar, but rather just hug him. Even though they weren’t exchanging particularly sad words. Why? He felt like he could hear the creaking sound of his broken heart struggling to turn. Unconsciously, Song Hyun-soo clenched his fists, gripping them painfully tight.
Yoon Joo-ho looked down at the floor and flicked off the ash. Biting his lower lip and sighing several times, he finally puffed out his shoulders in resignation and said,
“Alright. Then. Move into the house.”
“What house?”
“My mansion.”
“What else would there be besides that house?” Yoon Joo-ho said, raising his eyebrows in a tone that implied it was obvious.
“Whether it’s the deposit or the monthly rent. Stay there until you save more. That house now… that place is really not it.”
He shook his head resolutely, as if that was something he absolutely could not compromise on.
“Many people live like that. I have too, until now.”
Bringing the filter to his lips, he muttered quickly.
“I don’t care how other people live. They aren’t you.”
“…”
Did he know what he was saying right now?
Even if he did, he probably wouldn’t take responsibility for it. He’d deny it, as always. But Song Hyun-soo’s hungry heart was filled with happiness by just that. He had decided not to rush him.
Grabbing Yoon Joo-ho’s wrist, he pulled him between the two cars parked in front. Cupping his bewildered cheeks, he pressed his lips against them. He had to crane his neck for a long time because of the cap he wore pulled down low.
Yoon Joo-ho, holding a cigarette awkwardly in his hand and bending at the waist, passively received the kiss. When Song Hyun-soo pulled away from his pressed lips, Yoon Joo-ho narrowed his eyes, gazing at Song Hyun-soo with a suspicious expression, thinking, What trick is this now?
Applying more pressure to the hands that held his cheeks, Song Hyun-soo grinned.
“Alright.”
“What?”
“I’ll stay at your place, Sunbae.”
“…”
“But I’ll pay rent.”
“How much will you pay?”
“500,000 won. That’s my budget.”
“Ah… you’re trying to get by for free. I can’t even cover the heating bill with that much.”
Even while pretending to complain, Yoon Joo-ho’s face finally looked a little more relaxed.
Perhaps Song Hyun-soo felt a little proud that the fact he lived in a cold, cramped house could make Yoon Joo-ho uncomfortable. He saw it as proof that he was important to Yoon Joo-ho, who couldn’t say he liked him or wanted to date him.
Yoon Joo-ho likes me now. Only me. How foolish.
■■■
While Song Hyun-soo was making kimchi pot rice, Yoon Joo-ho grilled the short ribs from the refrigerator. In less than 30 minutes, a simple yet hearty and filling meal was ready.
“Wow… this is quite a feast.”
Setting the pot on the round dining table in the kitchen, Song Hyun-soo began dividing the rice into two bowls.
“What do you usually eat for this to be a feast?”
“It’s not just me; most people who live alone are like that. Not everyone can afford to order delivery from their favorite restaurants.”
The smell of greasy meat and stir-fried kimchi whetted his appetite. Having only eaten a sandwich and a few snacks from Seohae’s bar all day, Song Hyun-soo felt like he could chew and swallow the bowls.
However, unlike Song Hyun-soo, who alternated between meat and rice, stuffing his mouth full, Yoon Joo-ho’s spooning was sluggish.
“Aren’t you hungry? Why are you picking at your food?”
Without answering, Yoon Joo-ho said something irrelevant.
“Dispose of all the furniture you have in that house before you come.”
“All of it?”
“What else? Are you going to bring that stuff into the guest room after I throw out what’s in there?”
“That… is not the case, no.”
After the kiss in the parking lot, Yoon Joo-ho had suggested they go to his place. He said he’d show Song Hyun-soo the room he’d be staying in. He told Song Hyun-soo to pack his things and come out, saying he’d wait there.
They fought and made up so quickly, are they playing with me? Does he not want to get yelled at by Seohae hyung? Song Hyun-soo thought this as he went downstairs, but surprisingly, Seohae didn’t say much. He just gave him his phone number and told him to visit anytime.
The room Yoon Joo-ho showed him was the guest room on the second floor. It was equipped with two twin beds, a wardrobe, a dresser, and a desk. In terms of comfort, view, and size, it was clearly a superior environment compared to his current rooftop room.
“Then it’s settled. Just bring your personal belongings.”
Putting down his chopsticks, Yoon Joo-ho picked up his water glass and immediately revised what he had said.
“No, if you hire someone, that’s fine too. I’ll tell you to dispose of the furniture and bring everything else, so just stay here starting today.”
“It’s fine. I can go and get it myself.”
“I’ll tell you to bring everything, not even a single pair of socks. So just stay here.”
Yoon Joo-ho’s tone was somewhat sharp. He wasn’t angry, but he seemed anxious that Song Hyun-soo might change his mind.
“I understand that you don’t want to be apart from me for even a second, Sunbae. But I’m not comfortable with others touching my things. As you know, I have some… personal items.”
Recalling the secret box containing adult toys and condoms, Song Hyun-soo aimlessly stirred his rice bowl with his chopsticks.
“Indeed, it wouldn’t be good if that box were discovered.”
“You help me go and get it. Then it’ll be fine, right?”
“…”
Only then did Yoon Joo-ho seem to understand.
“But, are you really throwing away all that furniture?”
“Is it a waste? You’ve used it enough, haven’t you?”
“Of course, it’s old, but I’ve grown attached to it since I used it in my old dorm… and I’ll have to buy everything new when I leave here.”
“Are you already thinking about leaving before you’ve even moved in?”
Song Hyun-soo was a little surprised by Yoon Joo-ho’s tone, which clearly showed his disappointment. Then, the next moment, a laugh escaped him.
“Are you already disappointed thinking I’ll leave this house, Sunbae?”
Yoon Joo-ho said, avoiding his gaze as he picked up his chopsticks.
“If you know that, then throw it all away.”
“…”
He was speechless, as if he had been hit hard in the chest. He had expected to be chided for talking nonsense.
“Then I’ll just bring the audio equipment. That’s because Hong-seo used to use it.”
“Alright.”
It was an audio system that could play Bluetooth speakers and CDs. It wasn’t a turntable, and in this day and age, who would look for an audio system? But Choi Hong-seo had somehow brought that small audio system to listen to the CDs he had collected.
He had given it to Song Hyun-soo when he moved into a luxury villa in UN Village, which his chaebol boyfriend had prepared for him.