“…I remembered that you drank a lot before and asked me to bring you something.”
“…….”
“It’s honey water. It’s hot, so please drink it slowly.”
Munyeong gave a polite bow and quietly pulled the door shut behind him. At such a thoroughly formal and businesslike manner, Haejeong stared at the closed door with a baffled expression. Then he looked down at the mug that had been more or less pressed into his hand, and after a moment, thirst crept up on him and he quietly brought it to his lips.
He remembered. The first time they’d run into each other in the office, Haejeong had still had no idea that the cleaning staff member in front of him was Im Munyeong. But when Munyeong had awkwardly mixed the honey water and brought it over, even without looking at his face, a strange sensation had stirred in him.
The one he’d kept thinking about. The one who came back to him every year and never stopped haunting him.
He’d been startled — and to hide it, he’d shoved the hot liquid into his mouth without thinking, burning the inside of it completely. His heart had been pounding wildly, but whether it was from the burned mouth or from the person standing in front of him, he couldn’t be sure.
What mattered now was that the honey water Im Munyeong had just made wasn’t scalding like that time — it was warm. He had remembered. That Haejeong had been so startled by the heat that he’d snapped. So this time, he’d brought it at just the right temperature again.
“…….”
Haejeong tasted the sweetness and looked once more at the door Munyeong had gone through. Whenever that relentlessly attentive care and deeply ingrained warmth came through in full —
“…Ha. What a pain in the ass.”
He muttered it like he was irritated, dragged a hand down his face, and pushed himself up. The cheap mattress let out a creak. He didn’t need to ask to know this cramped, dingy bedroom was Munyeong’s room. The house he’d lived in back then had smelled similar, after all. What bothered him most was that he noticed all of this instinctively.
**
Munyeong looked back toward the bathroom where the sound of water was running for what felt like the hundredth time. Having the two of them alone together in this tiny apartment was more awkward and nerve-racking than he’d expected, and he couldn’t help being hyperaware of it. Even after bringing the unconscious Haejeong home, he’d deliberated dozens of times whether to take him to a nearby lodging instead — but the thought that drawing people’s eyes would do no one any good steadied him.
Even so, Haejeong had been groaning and restless throughout the early hours of the morning, as though the bed was uncomfortable, and Munyeong, who had been trying to sleep in the living room, kept being pulled back in to check on him. He couldn’t tell if Haejeong was actually ill or having bad dreams, so he’d pressed a hand to his forehead, draped a frozen cold towel over him, and done what he could. He’d even pulled up drug side effects on his phone, just in case. But there were no good solutions. All he could do was keep watch over him through the night.
“For god’s sake. The ceiling is practically on my head. Unbelievably cramped. How is a person supposed to shower in there?”
Haejeong came out with only his pants half on, vigorously shaking his head and making a racket. But Haejeong was, to Munyeong’s relieved embarrassment, exactly the same as ever. The same perpetually dissatisfied expression.
“You did this on purpose. You brought me to your place so I’d suffer. That’s it, isn’t it.”
Apparently his forehead had hit the ceiling more than once while showering, because he was grumbling and rubbing the top of his head. It was a remark jabbing at how cramped and shabby Munyeong’s home was — but Munyeong, expression clear and unaffected, quietly held out a piece of clothing.
“…Something for your top, here.”
It was the largest thing in the house. Not actually his own — it was Shin Juho’s, who came in and out of the place often enough. Haejeong was slightly bigger than the already muscle-built Juho, but there was no other option.
“…You expect me to wear this?”
Better than nothing, Munyeong figured. Unable to bring himself to look at Haejeong’s bare upper half, he just nodded quietly.
“It has a cat on it.”
Haejeong pointed at the printed graphic on the shirt and said it in a hollow voice. It was a hoodie with a cat drawn on it.
“A cat. On it.”
He stressed it again as though he couldn’t quite believe it.
“…Just put it on for now, and you can change later—”
Unable to look over at him and mumbling quietly, Munyeong’s voice trailed off, and Haejeong let out a deflated laugh.
“What’s the matter with you.”
“Pardon?”
Every other time Munyeong had responded without so much as a flicker — but now his expression had visibly fallen into something like mortified distress. At that reaction, Haejeong’s eyes sharpened.
“Don’t tell me you’re being modest.”
“…Pardon?”
“What are you embarrassed about.”
“…I’m not sure what you mean….”
At the politely evasive tone, Haejeong stepped toward him and looked down at Munyeong with a sideways tilt of his head. Munyeong, faced with Haejeong’s bare chest right in front of him, lowered his eyes as though he’d seen something he shouldn’t.
“Have you never seen a man’s chest before?”
“……N, no, of course I have.”
“Then why are you embarrassed.”
“…I’m not embarrassed.”
“Then what — overwhelmed by how good I look, something like that?”
“Pardon?”
“Even when I was in the States, I held my own among foreign guys who were known for their bodies.”
How it had suddenly turned into a self-admiration session Munyeong couldn’t quite follow, but he laughed awkwardly and gave a small reply.
“…Ah, I see….”
“I even got approached about doing a shirtless photo shoot, you know.”
“……Ah, I see….”
“Where else are you going to see a body like this.”
“……Yes….”
“Besides, it’s not like it’s the first time you’ve—”
He said it almost to himself with a little laugh, then abruptly snapped his mouth shut. His genuinely self-congratulatory rambling cut off short, and Munyeong looked up at him, puzzled. In that same moment, Haejeong — who had been hesitating over putting the shirt on — suddenly pulled the cat hoodie down over his head. The shirt that was already roomy on Juho fit Haejeong like a second skin. The calico cat graphic stretched tight across his chest, making it all the more noticeable. Haejeong looked down at himself with displeasure, then turned and offered Munyeong unsolicited advice.
“Please develop some taste.”
At the out-of-nowhere criticism, Munyeong pressed his lips together and pushed them out slightly in a quiet, wordless rebuttal. Unacceptable. Any way you looked at it, the cat was adorable.
Haejeong glanced back at Munyeong, who was standing there making a small sulky face, and said as though he’d decided something couldn’t be helped —
“No matter how I think about it, I can’t go to the office in this. Let me just get something from my bag—”
“You’re going in today?”
“What?”
Munyeong opened his eyes wide and pointed at the calendar hanging on the wall. It was the old-fashioned kind from a nearby gas station, so the numbers were large and easy to read.
“…Today’s the weekend….”
He said it while scratching the back of his ear, and Haejeong’s expression twisted. His face carried a distinct shade of embarrassment as he glanced sideways at Munyeong, then clicked his tongue.
“…Someone like me is busy even on weekends, naturally.”
“…Ah, I see.”
“……Where’s the car.”
“Parked in the alley out front.”
“Keys.”
“Here.”
Munyeong held out the car keys as if he’d been waiting for the question.
“Why are you handing them to me.”
“Pardon?”
“I said I’m busy.”
At the blank look that seemed to say so what do you want from me, Haejeong’s face twisted completely.
“When you work for someone like me, there’s no such thing as weekends or weekdays.”
Ah…. Only then did Munyeong grasp what he meant, and let out a small sigh. Then he scratched one cheek with an awkward expression.
“…The thing is… I already have plans with a friend today.”
“What?”
