By Zephyria 
Chapter 7 (1)
A weekend arrived, and spring had quickly approached. After confirming the weather was cozy enough to go without an outer coat, Seo Hae-young handed over some freshly laundered clothes. It was a day that suited the sweater Hae-won had received for his birthday.
“Are you actually eating properly?”
Seo Hae-young frowned as if dissatisfied while fastening the belt around Hae-won’s loose waist. His tone was heavily accusatory, but Hae-won had his own side of the story. He felt that no matter how many meals he shoved down a day, if they kept doing that day and night, he wouldn’t gain weight—he’d wither away. Swallowing his crooked thoughts, Hae-won simply nodded. He knew all too well who would lose out if he talked back and got hit.
“Really?”
“Yeah… the stuff in the fridge.”
After tidying the hem of the pants that slightly revealed his ankle bones, Seo Hae-young stepped away. Hae-won looked in the mirror, wearing the chunky beige sweater and pants that rustled against his bare legs. Because he had been so frazzled, only now could he take a proper look at the gifted clothes. Without a doubt, they were exactly to Seo Hae-young’s taste. They weren’t particularly comfortable for Hae-won, who usually just wore hoodies. Though, most of the hoodies that changed color depending on the mood were also bought by Seo Hae-young. As Hae-won awkwardly fiddled with the slightly oversized sleeves, he was grabbed by the shoulder and stumbled as he was turned around.
“Hey. I told you not to lie.”
Seo Hae-young gave his cheek a light slap, sneering as if he knew exactly what Hae-won had been up to during the day. Hae-won’s eyes darted around, glancing at the corners of the room and the edges of the furniture. There weren’t even any cameras, so how was Seo Hae-young so well-informed? Not thinking far enough to realize that it was his own tendency to confess everything when pressed, Hae-won stole a glance at Seo Hae-young, who was dressed in a similar style.
Seo Hae-young, whose gaze had dropped while fastening one of the watches received last night onto Hae-won’s wrist, seemed to be in a very good mood, though Hae-won couldn’t say exactly why. Whether he was clearing away the rug that had been soiled since morning or tidying up crumpled wrapping paper and shopping bags, his face looked somehow refreshed. Bearing the fatigue alone, Hae-won blinked his stinging eyes and drifted into a daydream.
He had absolutely no desire to go out, but the atmosphere wasn’t one where he could rain on the parade. He figured spending time where there were other people might be better than being in the same space as the other man and staying tense the whole time. And the absurd story he’d heard last night kept popping into his head. In any case, it was complicated. Rubbing his dry eyes, he followed as he was led, unable to voice a single opinion, and ended up in the passenger seat. By the time he finished answering Seo Hae-young’s questions, he had arrived at the destination without even realizing it. It was a place he hadn’t expected at all.
It was a building with many large windows, allowing sunlight to pour generously into every hallway. Neatly hung posters and pamphlets placed here and there revealed the purpose of the building. Despite it being a weekend morning, the gallery was quiet; even counting the couples and the people browsing silently alone, there were fewer than thirty people in the building, which wasn’t even that small. Hae-won looked around, trying to deduce why they had come here, but he was completely in the dark. Following a step behind Seo Hae-young as he entered the exhibition hall, Hae-won timidly spoke up.
“Did you… like this kind of thing?”
Tae-gyeom was the one who usually sought out these kinds of exhibitions. Joo Hyun-woo tended to tag along whenever he was bored, but as for Seo Hae-young—well. He didn’t particularly like it. When Hae-won looked at him questioningly, Seo Hae-young carelessly flipped open a pamphlet he had picked up and shook his head lightly.
“Not really.”
“Then why…?”
Hae-won took the pamphlet and unfolded the crease, but the artist’s name written in large letters was unfamiliar. Since the only painters he knew were Picasso and Van Gogh, Hae-won folded the paper back without much feeling. Knowing only that the artist was a foreigner, he stood beside him. Seo Hae-young, standing before a painting hanging solitary on a white wall, lowered his voice and whispered.
“I told you we’d hang out.”
A playful smile appeared on the slender face turned away from the painting splattered with deep blue paint. Having no way of knowing Seo Hae-young’s old-fashioned way of dating, the best Hae-won could do was assume he was just finding a new way to torment him.
Unlike the hallways drenched in stinging sunlight, the interior of the exhibition hall, blocked by white walls, was deeper and wider than it looked. Hae-won was hesitantly dragged along by Seo Hae-young into a dimly lit room. Their index fingers were entwined like a child’s game, a loop that could be cast off at any moment. Hae-won’s expression wasn’t great as he glanced at a couple admiring a painting some distance away. His entire focus was on the fingertips that wouldn’t budge an inch, making it impossible for the art to enter his mind.
Checking the surroundings, he hid the hand he was holding slightly tighter with Seo Hae-young. Seo Hae-young, however, nonchalantly interlaced their fingers and fiddled with the protruding bone on the back of Hae-won’s hand. The friction of their entwined forearms generated an uncomfortable heat.
Hae-won stole glances at Seo Hae-young, who stood before a canvas taller than himself, and slowly slid his hand out. As soon as their eyes met, he murmured in a shrinking voice.
“If someone sees…”
Reminding him that there were people around, he picked at his own fingers. Feeling as though they were still touching, Hae-won scratched his skin harshly with his nails. Seo Hae-young leaned down and whispered softly.
“Sex is okay, but holding hands isn’t?”
Hae-won’s expression froze as he looked silently at the man playing a distressing prank. Why couldn’t he understand that the problem wasn’t holding hands, but the location? A perfectly ordinary day felt unbearably awkward. Curling the corners of his mouth upward, Seo Hae-young added in a casual tone, as if wondering why Hae-won was looking at him like that.
“You like it when people watch.”
“…I don’t.”
The conversation was drifting into a strange direction. A flustered Hae-won shook his head in denial, but Seo Hae-young suddenly reached out and gripped the waist hidden beneath the sweater with one hand.
“No. You fucking love it.”
Startled, Hae-won recoiled, clutching his aching side and looking around. Fortunately, they were the only ones nearby, but he couldn’t feel at ease. He wanted to walk a bit further apart, but unfortunately, Seo Hae-young closed the gap in a single step and wrapped a long arm around his shoulder. For a shoulder embrace that could be common between friends, the hand slowly rubbing his shoulder had a strange quality to it. A gentle laugh seeped into the sound of footsteps leisurely treading on the marble floor.
“I’m joking. Relax your face.”
Finding the truth within words covered by a layer of jokes was beyond Hae-won’s capability. Even as he forced himself to look at the paintings, his furrowed brow wouldn’t smooth out. His gaze kept returning to Seo Hae-young, searching for a stable point. Deep blue paints decorating the canvases hung in a row on the white gallery walls. The face that matched that color so terrifyingly well, as always, did not reveal its inner thoughts.
As usual, the striking appearance and the subtly different attitude tickled his chest—which felt blocked—to the point of nausea, and every time, it felt as if a dry cough would burst out. Swallowing the cough that tickled his throat and even holding his breath, Hae-won rubbed his feet against the floor as if crushing them, wanting to escape anywhere. The heels of his white sneakers flopped slightly.
Sneakers that belonged to someone else, where his feet slid around inside even if the laces were tied tight. Seo Hae-young, who bought him everything he didn’t want or need but took away only his shoes, had a clearer goal than Hae-won, who was wandering in confusion.
* * *
In a quiet cafe inside the gallery, Hae-won sat with his back to a large window, massaging his numb thighs. He looked pale, despite how little they had walked. Naturally checking Hae-won’s forehead, Seo Hae-young smiled as he brushed back the hair that looked even brighter under the sunlight. The sight of him—without a fever, yet so fragile that he’d be caught in a single stride even if he tried to run—was reasonably pleasant. It was a fresh change.
“You can’t even walk for an hour? We exercise every day…”
Trailing off as if it were strange, Seo Hae-young slid his index finger inside the collar of the sweater. Hae-won grabbed the hand that was gently rubbing the collarbone, where red marks never seemed to disappear, and pushed it away with just enough force not to offend. Even though they were in a corner seat, Seo Hae-young’s actions were far too explicit for a public place. Fiddling with the fingers that held a warm heat, he spoke cautiously.
“…It’s because of that. It’s hard.”
The inner thigh muscles that had been spread open for a long time felt as if they would tear soon, and his buttocks, touching the chair, were still flushed. It was a miracle he could even walk. Hae-won struggled to express that he was exhausted, but to Seo Hae-young, it sounded like aegyo disguised as complaining. There was a certain kind of affection in the hand that grabbed a handful of his pale cheek and shook it back and forth.
“Is that so? You kept coming, so I thought you liked it.”
“Ah, it hurts…”
To the person actually enduring it, the grip was strong enough to bring tears to his eyes. After patting the cheek where a handprint was clearly left, Seo Hae-young turned and walked away without hesitation. Glaring secretly at the receding back, Hae-won folded a piece of paper into a flicking toy using the squared-off pamphlet, swallowing the resentment rising within him.
If he wasn’t going to listen, he wished he hadn’t asked in the first place. There were times when the way he accepted things as he pleased seemed resolute, but lately, it felt stifling and upsetting. Seo Hae-young’s whims—being arbitrarily kind one moment and playing embarrassing pranks the next—had never been as confusing as today, and Hae-won put more strength into crumpling the pamphlet.
“Ah…”
While mindlessly fiddling with the paper, Hae-won was suddenly startled and dropped the stiffly folded toy. A long slit appeared across his finger joint where the sharp edge had grazed him. Wrapping the wound, where blood was beading up, in his palm, Hae-won instinctively looked for the vanished Seo Hae-young.
Thinking he might have gone to pick up the ordered drinks, Hae-won leaned forward from the secluded seat and hesitantly stood up. He took a few tissues and wrapped them around his finger, but the blood smeared messily on his palm wouldn’t wipe away easily. A sense of helplessness rose clearly from his furrowed brows.
As Hae-won looked around, he spotted a clean hallway connected to the open cafe. It looked like the kind of hallway that would have a restroom. He looked at his palm once, then at the hallway. Alternating between the two, Hae-won gripped his finger and turned toward the hallway without hesitation.
He reached the end of the hallway with an uncomfortable stride, but the hoped-for restroom was nowhere to be found; instead, a white-painted storage door occupied the space. Disappointment welled up. Moreover, because the entire building was painted white, he began to lose track of where he was. Stepping reluctantly, Hae-won unknowingly ventured deeper into the building.
Finally finding a restroom sign, Hae-won rushed over, washed his hand under running water, and tightly wrapped his index finger with clean toilet paper. Perhaps it was cut deeper than it looked, as a stinging pain surged up his palm. Staring blankly at the wound wouldn’t make it heal, but after looking at it for a while, he pushed the restroom door open with his shoulder and stepped out.
The fatigue hadn’t worn off. With a small wish to go to bed early just for today, the concept of time had long since vanished from Hae-won’s mind. Neither that he had wandered the gallery hallways for over ten minutes, nor that he had wasted another ten minutes by dawdling.
Unaware of how much time had passed, Hae-won dusted off his clean hand and hurried back to the cafe. He hoped that since Seo Hae-young seemed to be in a good mood, he might be able to postpone their time in bed if he played along.
“Uh…”
As he walked toward the seat where the familiar outer coat was draped, only the tray with drinks remained, and Seo Hae-young was nowhere to be seen. Sitting back down, Hae-won placed the tall coffee cup in front of him and took his own ade, wearing an ambiguous expression. He always drank the same drink whenever they went to a cafe, and the fact that the indifferent Seo Hae-young seemed to know that made him feel strange. Rubbing his chest where the ticklish feeling from the exhibition hall rose again, he picked up a box of what looked like thick chocolates and cleared the tray.
Did he go to smoke? Tilting his head, Hae-won tidied the spot without much thought. Since he hadn’t brought his phone, he looked around boredly, brought back the unfolded pamphlet, and folded it tightly. As soon as he folded it neatly, he lost interest, so he sipped his drink and fiddled with the corner of the chocolate box.
Whether to eat them or not, he waited, but Seo Hae-young did not return. Only then did he feel the weight of the watch around his wrist. Turning his arm awkwardly to look at the watch, it seemed that more than twenty minutes had passed. The moment he thought that one cigarette only takes ten minutes, his heart gave a shallow thud. An anxious hypothesis formed.
Dropping the straw from his lips, Hae-won slowly lowered his hand to his pants. Scanning his empty pockets, he realized his situation—he had absolutely nothing, not even money. Like a child who had lost their parent’s hand, Hae-won showed his panic openly, his wide eyes darting around.
Could he have left me? No matter how he turned his head, not a single strand of Seo Hae-young’s hair was visible, and anxiety began to prick at him. He slowly stood up and grabbed Seo Hae-young’s coat from the chair. While thinking there was no way he would have left his clothes, he reached the conclusion that if it were Seo Hae-young, he might actually do it, and his movements became frantic.
Slipping his tissue-wrapped hand into the coat pocket, Hae-won naturally searched the inside. He searched the clothes so thoroughly that the cut stung, but unfortunately, all he found was a new pamphlet. He even turned the coat inside out and shook it, but there was no way a missing wallet would appear.
Folding the fruitless coat neatly on his lap, Hae-won bit his nails and watched the clock hands tick away. When the short hand, moving in tiny increments, pointed exactly to 3 o’clock, his hunched back straightened and the corners of his mouth slowly curled up. The unnatural smile revealed ambivalent emotions.
A strikingly tall figure was crossing the cafe, approaching him. However, the curled corners of his mouth slowly dropped as Seo Hae-young drew closer. The breath, heavier than usual as if he had been running, the flushed cheeks, and the cold eyes silenced him, causing his resolve to ask where he had been to wither away. Hesitating, not knowing the reason, Hae-won quickly pushed the coffee cup, in which the ice had melted, toward him.
“Here…”
There was no bitter smell of cigarettes. Finding it strange, he looked up, and Seo Hae-young, who neither drank the beverage nor sat down but simply looked down at him, brushed back the hair that had been disturbed by the wind. As his neat eyebrows and straight forehead were revealed, a powerful atmosphere covered the fluid lines that looked as if they had been drawn, exerting an air of intimidation.
Captivated by the hair falling back to cover his forehead and the eyes narrowed against the sunlight, Hae-won didn’t properly hear the question coming from the parted lips. He also missed the chance to answer, and only later did he manage a clumsy smile.
“…You’re smiling?”
A hand suddenly reached out and supported his temple. The raised right hand seemed to drop slowly, but it wasn’t slow enough to be avoided. In an instant, a flash of light exploded in the vision that had been filled with Seo Hae-young. A pain, as if being gouged by an awl, spread numbly along with a ringing in his ears.
“Ugh…!”
Not only did he bite his tongue, but because the large hand had been holding his head so it couldn’t turn, he had to absorb the full force of the blow. As soon as the hand let go, Hae-won clutched his ear and cheek. He looked up with eyes wide as saucers, but all he saw were flashes of light against a black background. Panic dripped from his aimlessly shaking gaze and vacant expression.
“Why, why are you doing this…”
Hae-won, who had been helplessly swept along by Seo Hae-young, who had been showing every sign of being in a good mood until just a moment ago, couldn’t regain his senses. Tears, which had stopped for the day, blurred his vision, and a muffled voice escaped his congested nose.
“We’re… we’re outside…”
As he said, it was a cafe open to all sides. The sound of the slap on his cheek was by no means quiet, enough to catch the attention of a man passing by. Looking at the sobbing Hae-won and the standing back of Seo Hae-young, the man frowned as if seeing something bizarre and hurriedly left. Until he passed the wall, the glancing looks became sharp needles that pierced into the reddening cheek.
“And?”
Responding nonchalantly, Seo Hae-young pulled up a chair and sat right in front of him. Hae-won had a feeling that he would grow to hate going out in the future. Because it was already starting to feel horrific.
Sitting askew with his arms resting on the table, Seo Hae-young gazed blankly at the crown of Hae-won’s head, who was hanging low as if he had committed a crime. Since he had indeed sinned, it was an appropriate posture. However, remaining silent was not exactly the right attitude, so Hae-young shifted his knee, nudging Hae-won’s thin leg.
“Can’t you be like this outside? We’re usually like this.”
“Why are you suddenly acting like this….”
Their touching knees slid against each other, but Hae-won couldn’t even pull his leg away, remaining frozen like a statue in that position. The hands clasped together on the table trembled violently. He hadn’t expected this to happen even while out in public. Because he had let his guard down, the shock was even greater.
“I asked you. Where did you go?”
Using the hand that had slapped Hae-won’s cheek moments ago, Seo Hae-young covered both of Hae-won’s hands, lowered his upper body, and whispered softly. Before he knew it, teardrops flowing down his eyelashes dripped onto the white table. Hae-won took a deep breath, struggling to calm himself, and carefully pulled his hand away to open his palm. The tissue he had wrapped meticulously around his finger was crumpled and the end had come loose because he had clenched his fist so tightly.
“The restroom… I went there. My hand, it got cut….”
“Let me see.”
Hae-won promptly handed over his hand to Seo Hae-young, who reached out. As the askew-sitting Seo Hae-young unwrapped the thick layer of tissue with his index finger, a clean cut, as if drawn with a ruler, was revealed. As soon as he saw the unsightly wound, Seo Hae-young twisted his lips and muttered lowly.
“What happened with this now?”
“Ah, you weren’t coming. I just stepped away for a moment….”
Hae-won wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, enduring the gaze that looked at him with pity. The tears that burst forth several times a day happened to arrive at this exact moment. He didn’t want to cry, but he couldn’t hold back the surging tears, leaving him in a wretched state. Watching Hae-won sob and pour out his sorrow, Seo Hae-young let out a deep sigh as if he had no choice.
“Why are you crying as if you did something right?”
From Hae-won’s perspective—having been dragged out since morning, getting his finger cut, and even getting slapped in a public place—it was enough to make him feel maddeningly wronged, but it wasn’t as if Seo Hae-young had nothing to say.
Seo Hae-young stroked the wound where blood was seeping through and pushed aside the pamphlet and tissue, which were now more crumpled than before.
He had returned with the drinks only to find that Yoon Hae-won was gone, and all that remained was a crude little slip of paper. Wasn’t it natural to be angry? Without even thinking about waiting patiently, he had immediately set off to search. Once there is a precedent, any action becomes suspicious. After spending over thirty minutes scouring the gallery and the garden like a madman, it was only natural for suspicion to turn into certainty. And when he finally returned to the starting point and found the vanished Hae-won smiling sheepishly with a pale face, how could he have resisted striking him?
“Why do you go around without permission? Do you think you’ve lost your mind because I tell you you’re pretty, pretty….”
After letting go of the finger of the sobbing Hae-won, who was weeping over a single slap, Seo Hae-young sighed and unwrapped a piece of chocolate. Though the words were cold, his voice had softened considerably.
Even so, it wasn’t devoid of intimidation. Terrified, Hae-won gasped for air and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. His throat tightened as he suppressed the urge to scream back, asking if he had ever actually been treated as “pretty.”
“Ah….”
At that moment, a square piece of chocolate touched his lips. A sweet scent wafted. Seo Hae-young pushed pieces of chocolate one by one into the moist gap that opened reflexively. When Hae-won coughed slightly from chewing the chocolate piling up in his mouth, Seo Hae-young brought over the remaining half of the ade and placed the straw in his mouth. He didn’t know whether to call it consideration or torture.
Watching Hae-won’s lips, which were frantically busy crying, chewing, and drinking, Seo Hae-young rested his chin on his hand and suddenly made a brazen request.
“Give me a kiss.”
Lifting his stiff head, Hae-won blinked his moist eyes.
“…Huh?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me.”
Hae-won wondered if he had misheard, but Seo Hae-young tilted his chin up slightly, cutting off any hope with a shameless attitude. After swallowing a large lump of chocolate, Hae-won glanced at the other people. There was no one at the surrounding tables, but it still wasn’t a space where he could suddenly kiss him. Cornered, Hae-won gripped the coat resting on his knee with one hand and fiddled with Seo Hae-young’s elbow with the other, pleading softly.
“Can’t we do it outside? In the car….”
“No, we can’t.”
Conversation and common sense began to diverge. The direct gaze, the fingers tapping the table in a rhythmic sound, and the corners of the mouth curling up. It happened often, but today he didn’t seem sane. He didn’t know if he was fearless or if he had truly gone crazy.
Waiting silently for the next move of Hae-won, who was pulling his sleeve as if begging, Seo Hae-young let out a light laugh and grabbed the coat. He pulled out the pamphlet tucked crookedly in the pocket and unfolded the crease. A shadow formed behind the pamphlet, blocking the direction where people were.
“Will this work?”
Having created a small wall, Seo Hae-young let out a playful smile and closed his eyes. His long eyelashes feigned gentleness. At this point, Hae-won couldn’t help but indulge in unproductive and useless delusions. Is this how he has dated people until now? Or is he only like this with him, knowing there would be no repercussions even if he treated him recklessly? Did he want a kiss after being kind, then slapping him, then interrogating him?
“Hurry.”
While he was staring blankly, an irresistible command followed. Hesitating, Hae-won braced himself against the table and leaned his upper body forward. Their lightly touching lips crushed together, conveying a softness. The afternoon sunlight shattered behind his back, and a chilly breeze swept over the nape of his neck.
Errors that had almost been covered up surfaced one after another, leaving a gaping hole in the center of his chest. The identity of the wound that smelled of filth was a sense of alienation armed with confusion, a helplessness he wanted to settle into, a murderous intent to kill, and a ticklish affection that lived like a leech. And it was a love-hate relationship where all those things were completely mixed. While exchanging a lingering kiss, Hae-won did not close his eyes for a moment. The melting chocolate tasted of blood.
On a weekend when the sunlight was stinging, Hae-won left the gallery with swollen cheeks, strolled through the well-kept garden, ate at a fancy restaurant, and returned home after a drive through the outskirts. Just as the chocolate that seeped into his tongue disappeared, leaving a nauseating sweetness, the day with Seo Hae-young left an unpleasant aftertaste. Fingertips brushing occasionally, feet touching under the table, a right hand naturally massaging the inner thigh instead of the steering wheel. It was a day so blatant and explicit that even a clueless person could have understood the meaning. Only after arriving at the house they shared did Hae-won realize the nature of the day, and he couldn’t bring himself to smile. Not even a hollow laugh came out.
A typical, old-fashioned date. A cliché date he had heard of even if he had never experienced one. By the time it led to the bed, Hae-won hugged Seo Hae-young’s overwhelming neck and poured out the sorrow he had been suppressing. Since it was still a decent amount of time, he cried to his heart’s content, saying words he didn’t mean. Seeing Seo Hae-young smile dreamily at the hollow word ‘like,’ looking genuinely pleased, Hae-won lost his way between misery and relief.
* * *
The Saturday when the spring rain fell was clear. Stepping out onto the veranda, Seo Hae-young stroked the nape of his neck while looking down at the bluish garden. It was the kind of weather where a beautiful rainbow would bloom once the rain stopped, but the thin streaks of rain showed no sign of ceasing. A few petals that had been barely clinging on fell helplessly, hit by rolling raindrops. It seemed the flower-viewing trip he had waited weeks for was now out of the question.
Sighing with regret, he entered the room, and the sight of two legs poking out from under a white duvet instantly erased his disappointment. With a playful smile, Seo Hae-young dove into the bed where his sleep-loving housemate was slumbering.
“Yoon- Hae-won-.”
As he pulled the white bundle of duvet into his arms, a warm heat was fully transmitted through the thin fabric. Seo Hae-young tightly entwined himself around Hae-won, who was tossing and turning as if trying to wake up, and pressed his forehead against his flat chest. Rather than being unpleasant, the sound of another person’s heart beating felt only pleasant, so he felt no particular urge to shake him awake.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Mm….”
The way he answered obediently even with sleep still plastered on his face was also lovely. While he didn’t like that the schedule had been ruined, a peaceful weekend wasn’t bad either. Propping himself up on one arm, Seo Hae-young tidied the hair of Hae-won, who was slowly opening his eyes, before changing his mind and burrowing into his embrace.
“It’s raining.”
The whisper was a prelude. The shoulders of Hae-won, who was blinking away the sleep, flinched. Following the hair that tickled his chest, lips sucked on a nipple that was swollen from chafed skin, making a wet sound as they detached and reattached. Touching the erect nipple with his index finger, the lips moved to the left and took a large bite of the chest.
Frowning, Hae-won tossed and turned, unable to push away Seo Hae-young, who was sucking on the stinging nipple. Since there was nothing else to strip, there was nothing to hinder Seo Hae-young’s hands. He didn’t know what the rain had to do with morning sex, but searching for logic in Seo Hae-young’s actions was a waste of time.
Before long, Hae-won, pushed to the edge of the bed, had no choice but to let out groaning moans even before he was fully awake. His two legs, draped over shoulders that shone white in the sunlight, swayed back and forth. He couldn’t answer Seo Hae-young, who asked with a smirk if it wasn’t warmer to put it in right when he woke up. He didn’t have the mental capacity, and the force of the thrusting was so intense that it was hard to keep up even though it was morning.
If only he would let it slide for once, but the heartless Seo Hae-young said, “Try putting your hand in,” and snatched the hand that was gripping the duvet tightly to avoid falling off the bed, pulling it toward the junction. He made him touch the penis embedded in his body and eventually forced his finger into the hole. Hae-won, horrified by the stretching folds and the feel of the inner wall, quickly pulled his hand out and struggled slightly, twisting his upper body. Only after he pleaded for him to go slowly was he barely able to keep up with the slowed pace of the hips.
When he opened his tightly shut eyes, the overturned veranda came into view through a shaking gaze. The sound of rain tapping the railing seeped faintly between the clashing skin. Feeling the cool breeze stealing away the heat, Hae-won rubbed his cooling chest.
Every returning weekend they did something similar to a date, and they always slept in the same bed… but it was strange. This felt less like a deep relationship and more like being a hole for discharging sexual desire. Not a friend, not a lover, just a hole to shove a cock into whenever he felt like it.
This was why he hated weekends. They were just days when the depression deepened. Looking at Seo Hae-young, who was suppressing his neck and lifting his hips, with feverish eyes, Hae-won laughed like a deflating balloon.
What’s new about that… Maybe it’s because of the rain, but he was overthinking useless things.
On a weekend afternoon that began with relatively light sex, Hae-won sat in a dining chair, staring anxiously at a tall back. The sight of him rummaging through the kitchen, suddenly claiming he would make noodles—which he didn’t even like—was not trustworthy at all. He would pick up pasta noodles and try to gauge the amount, or wash strawberries that had no business being in noodles. It would be hard to act like that on purpose.
Hae-won, who had been lying languidly on the table, had no choice but to get up and approach Seo Hae-young. A fairly large strawberry revealed a neat cross-section under the sharp blade.
“…You’re putting that in?”
“They’re in season.”
“That may be true, but….”
Swallowing a sigh with difficulty, Hae-won silently cleared away the sliced strawberries and put the pasta noodles back in their place. As he carefully turned up the heat and made the broth, Seo Hae-young, who had eaten a piece of the sliced strawberry, reached out with a dissatisfied expression.
Chewing the strawberry that had been popped into his mouth, Hae-won looked for ingredients that actually belonged in noodles. It had been a long time since he’d seen the man who stopped by during the day to fill the fridge. While he was looking through the zucchini and carrots, not knowing when they had been bought, Seo Hae-young approached, grabbed his waist, and whispered in his ear. It was nothing special.
“Can’t I put it in?”
“Let’s… put it in next time.”
Forcing a clumsy smile, Hae-won washed the proper ingredients, desperately hoping there would be no “next time.” Seo Hae-young, leaning his chin on Hae-won’s shoulder, clung to him throughout the preparation, subtly tormenting him. Perhaps the thing he asked to “put in” wasn’t the strawberries. Revealing his discomfort through a furrowed brow, Hae-won couldn’t even get angry properly, and only the hand holding the knife trembled. Hands slid under the loose short-sleeved T-shirt he wore because of the heat, and a thick crotch pressed heavily against his buttocks.
“Stop it….”
“What did I do?”
Hae-won gestured with his eyes toward the knife he was barely holding, but Seo Hae-young only chuckled. Hae-won bit his lip and gripped the knife handle so hard his palm tingled.
As expected, birds of a feather flock together. From the vulgar things Go Tae-gyeom used to do to Joo Hyun-woo’s persistence, Seo Hae-young—who resembled only the worst parts of them—made the still-unclosed hole twitch every time he subtly thrust his hips. Because he kept chewing on the nape of his neck, which was marked with suction that had turned from red to purple, the carrots were sliced crookedly.
“Hmm? Stop what?”
Where had the courage gone that had once led him to hit Go Tae-gyeom’s head with a cabbage? Intimidated, Hae-won pretended not to hear and made the garnish. It was an agonizing time only for Hae-won, who was trapped, unable to move, between the arms of Seo Hae-young, who smiled while fiddling with his reddened earlobe.
Just as the noodles, which had been a struggle from start to finish, were nearly complete, a clear doorbell rang in the quiet interior. The chopsticks, carefully placing the garnish on the noodles in the concave bowl, slipped. The sound of the doorbell, which had never once rung since he moved into this house, touched his sensitive nerves. The crumbled egg garnish slid slowly into the clear broth. Even though it was just the garnish that had been messed up, Hae-won felt as if he had made an irreversible mistake, and his shoulders stiffened as he cautiously checked the reaction.
However, Seo Hae-young, who had been hugging his waist and leaning on him, stepped away without a word. Watching Seo Hae-young slowly leave the kitchen, Hae-won left the ruined noodles for himself and muttered softly while taking out a new bowl.
“…This is annoying.”
It was an emotion he could only vent in a space where there was no one to hear. The cause of the annoyance was everything. Because it rained since morning, because he felt like he was just a place to provide an ass, because he placed the egg garnish wrong, because the doorbell suddenly rang. Or perhaps it was none of those things.
Unable to find the exact cause and feeling even more stifled, Hae-won sighed and placed the beautifully plated noodles on the table. Thanks to eating more than a handful of strongly sweet strawberries, he turned away from the noodles that didn’t appeal to his appetite, and saw the sink drenched in water. Beside the cutting board that Seo Hae-young had carelessly washed and tilted, the dish soap in a transparent bottle caught his eye. Everything around him blurred, and his attention suddenly shifted to the detergent. As if possessed, Hae-won stood before the sink, staring silently at the sticky liquid in the transparent bottle while fiddling with his cold fingers.
Would I die if I ate this? As soon as a faint curiosity arose, his gaze returned to the table. Two bowls of noodles and clear broth. When his eyes, which had scanned the table, returned to the transparent detergent, he felt a pungent scent stinging his nostrils. As his heart suddenly began to race, his limp hand curled as if wanting to grab something.
But in the slow passage of time, Hae-won didn’t actually touch anything. There were two bowls of noodles, and just as he didn’t know the cause of his annoyance, he didn’t know which bowl to put the transparent detergent in. Unable to shake the image of the detergent bottle etched into his retina, Hae-won rubbed his eyelids hard with the back of his hand, failing to notice that the approaching footsteps did not belong to just one person. At the same time he dropped the hand that was rubbing his eyes, a voice from behind captured his open ears.
“Noona was asking… how you were.”
The voice, subtly detached, was not Seo Hae-young’s. As he slowly turned around, their gazes locked in mid-air. At that moment, only one word came to Hae-won’s mind.
Uninvited guest.
A small gasp and the unpleasantness that brushed the surface were the only reactions he could give to the uninvited guest. Perhaps equally surprised, Hee-seong, whose voice trailed off, looked similar to the image held in Hae-won’s memory. The reason Hae-won couldn’t even manage a clumsy smile at Hee-seong, who quickly composed his expression and greeted him in his characteristically kind tone, lay within himself—Yoon Hae-won.