By Zephyria 
“Hey, Cha Min-gyu….”
“I’m not Cha Min-gyu.”
Yi-ho looked up to check who it was. His face was still completely devoid of any wariness.
“Yes, you are.”
“I told you, I’m not.”
“Then who are you, cough.”
Yi-ho let out a small cough after the question. He had snapped back that it wasn’t him because he was feeling grumpy, but now he didn’t know how to wrap this up.
“I’m not Cha Min-gyu… I’m Team Leader Cha.”
“…Did you happen to drink before coming over?”
“It’ll get cold. Eat.”
As Min-gyu tapped the edge of the bowl with his fingertip, a lifeless hand lifted the spoon. He took a spoonful or two and then just started stirring the porridge with the edge of the spoon; it seemed he had no appetite, despite having fasted all day.
Watching that sight, something surged up inside Min-gyu. It was the same anger he had felt for the guy who was bleeding from his nose in Thailand. How do you take care of your body? Didn’t I tell you to be careful? Above all, if you’re sick, you should say you’re sick.
But seeing him eating with eyes swollen from illness, he couldn’t bring himself to get angry. Swallowing the hot lump of frustration burning in his chest, he softened his voice.
“Where does it hurt? What’s wrong?”
“Just… a bad cold.”
“You’ve almost never been this sick.”
“I think my stamina dropped because I went on a business trip right after staying up for several nights.”
“Well said, Song-i. You idiot, the overtime you did while working from home isn’t even counted as pay, but sick leave is recorded meticulously. Do you realize that working through the night is all your own loss? Do you know what your face looks like right now? I thought you crawled out of a grave.”
At a glance, it was a mundane conversation, just like the usual dynamic between the two. However, Yi-ho hadn’t looked at Min-gyu’s face once since he first confirmed the intruder’s identity.
Because he was sick? Because he lacked energy?
Or was there another reason?
“…Ah, you were Team Leader Cha because you were going to scold me?”
“…….”
“As for my face, it is partly because of overwork, but….”
“What else did you do?”
“…Nothing….”
He even stopped the meager movement of his spoon. Song Yi-ho, who usually couldn’t even talk back to others properly, had completely lost his fighting spirit now that he was sick.
If he was sick, he should at least be dressed properly, but his loose, stretched-out t-shirt looked as if it would reveal his belly button the moment he leaned over. He had pale, dough-like skin, but since he secretly enjoyed exercising, his body had curves. Feeling the steady gaze, Yi-ho looked up. Min-gyu quickly averted his eyes.
“…Finish eating.”
“What about you, Cha Min-gyu?”
“You just eat. You. I can go make something for myself.”
Min-gyu rested his chin deeply in his hand on the table. The distance between him and Yi-ho closed slightly.
“Song-i, is that really all there is?”
“I’ve been… sleeping lightly.”
Song Yi-ho, who wouldn’t even notice if someone carried him away on their back? Then again, he had woken up strangely early just now.
“So I’ve been having nightmares….”
“What kind of dreams?”
“Just this and that. Nonsense dreams.”
It was a vague, brushed-off answer. No matter how close friends were, knowing every detail of their dreams was impossible. It would be absurd to pry… So Min-gyu hoped Yi-ho would tell him first, but after the short answer, he dropped his gaze again. The pupils that had met for a fleeting moment disappeared once more beneath his eyelids and lashes.
The discomfort that had been growing slightly since earlier began to amplify. His gut was telling him that this was a strange emotion.
He took out his phone. He searched for the desired result and called immediately. After the automated guidance, a voice tinged with slight fatigue answered kindly.
“Hello. Can I make a reservation for today?”
-When will you be coming?
“In about an hour.”
-What is your name?
“It’s Song Yi-ho. Song, Yi-ho.”
-Your reservation is confirmed.
Hearing his name called, Yi-ho stopped eating and blinked his eyes open. It was the precious face finally shown head-on.
“What is it?”
“Song-i, I’ll buy you tonkatsu later, so let’s go out together.”
“I just fed you, why tonkatsu? Who was that on the phone?”
“Is that so? Then I’ll buy you some snacks.”
“Cha Min-gyu, I asked who you called.”
“A clinic that has night hours.”
Min-gyu checked the time. The clinic was a 20-minute drive away, so if they ate and got ready, the timing would be perfect.
“…Why go to a clinic for a cold?”
“Yeah, I figured Song-i Song-i would say that, so I just made the reservation first.”
“…….”
“If I no-show, my number might get blacklisted at a precious night clinic. I can’t exactly go there and pretend to be sick when I’m this healthy.”
Yi-ho gave Min-gyu an unreadable look, then shoveled three large spoonfuls of porridge into his mouth and stood up.
“I’ll wash up and come out.”
“Ah, Song-i.”
Yi-ho turned around. Min-gyu narrowed his eyes and curled the corners of his mouth. But for some reason, it became a slightly twisted smile.
“Change your clothes, too.”
∗ ∗ ∗
Yi-ho lifted his heavy eyelids. It was someone’s touch that woke him from the deep sleep induced by the medication. Someone placed the back of their hand on his forehead to check, then removed the cooled fever patch. Yi-ho’s eyelashes brushed against the thick part of the palm.
“Are you awake?”
“…….”
“Are you just sleeping with your eyes open? Sleep more.”
He didn’t know what time it was, but it was pitch black all around.
He remembered being led to the clinic by Min-gyu’s hand. He felt his fever rise even more because of the guy who followed him into the consultation room and tatted on him to the doctor, saying he’d been overworking for days and urging the doctor to give him a painful shot. After receiving an IV drip instead of a shot, he was put back in the backseat of the car, and the memory of how he got from the parking lot to the bedroom was a bit blurry.
“Cha Min-gyu, didn’t you leave?”
His voice came out more easily than it had a few hours ago.
“I did. Then I came back.”
Min-gyu pointed to his attire. Earlier, he had come straight from work, so he was in a suit. Now, he was in comfortable casual clothes.
“…Why did you come back?”
Yi-ho pushed himself up to sit. Perhaps due to the effect of the IV, his shivering limbs felt much better. His sweat-soaked body felt refreshed. He felt embarrassed for saying he didn’t need a clinic for a cold.
Yi-ho fumbled around the bed and found his phone. While its owner had been drained, the phone had also failed to recharge, and the battery light was red. However, it was enough to check the time.
The numbers indicated 2 AM.
And today—no, yesterday, which had already passed—was Monday. Yi-ho worked from home, but Min-gyu had to go to work in six hours.
“Hey, it’s 2 AM… Ha, go home and sleep. Why are you still here at this hour?”
Min-gyu, who had been gazing steadily at Yi-ho, sat on the edge of the bed. The back of his hand touched Yi-ho’s neck before his palm pressed deeply against his forehead.
“True. The boiling fever has gone down a bit. I can go now.”
The hand that had touched him so naturally withdrew just as naturally.
There was nothing new about invading each other’s homes since they lived right next door. Yi-ho’s feelings had changed slightly, but to Min-gyu, the late hour and the space of a bedroom were likely nothing unusual. Just as they had always been.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“…You’re being too much.”
Yi-ho seemed to expect Min-gyu to brush it off playfully, saying, ‘Song-i, you ungrateful brat! Do you know how hard I worked to nurse you back to health!’ But Min-gyu didn’t smile; instead, he tilted his head a bit closer to Yi-ho.
“You told me that in Thailand, too. I feel like I’ve been hearing that I’m ‘too much’ often lately.”
The sound of plastic packaging crinkling came from Min-gyu’s hand. It was a new, unopened fever patch.
“Since you keep saying I’m too much, I thought about it… Am I? Yi-ho, I’m not really sure.”
“…….”
“I mean I really don’t know. You’re the only person like you in my life, so I don’t know where the limit is.”
His voice was low, like Team Leader Cha, rather than the Cha Min-gyu he knew. But the distance that used to be the width of a partition was now excessively close.
“Buying porridge for a guy who fasted all day, coaxing and soothing him to take him to the clinic, watching over him to make sure he isn’t having nightmares, changing his cooling sheets… For now, none of that was difficult.”
“I said you’re being too much.”
“Song Yi-ho, you know. To me, you’re family. I didn’t grow up building an affectionate atmosphere with my actual family, so you feel much more like family.”
“…….”
“At the very least, everything I can do for Min-jung, I can do for you. No, we’ve been together for half our lives since we were eighteen, so it’s probably more.”
“…….”
“Can’t you do the same for me? Can’t you do this much?”
Of course he could. If Cha Min-gyu were sick, even someone like him, who had no talent for nursing, would be restless and try to stick by his side all day.
However, the heart contained within those same actions would be completely different.
A friend like family.
It was contained in that one phrase. It meant that Cha Min-gyu would never love Yi-ho as a romantic partner,
and that Yi-ho’s eroticized feelings would only be a wound to him.