“…I thought you’d left….”
Yeon Haejeong stammered over his words as he pulled Munyeong into his arms. Munyeong let himself be held, blinking in a daze. He’d never seen Haejeong look this unsettled before, and it left him flustered.
“…If you were going to leave… you could’ve at least said something… I put the blanket in the washing machine.”
Munyeong gently patted Haejeong’s back as he explained, taking it slow. His first instinct was to soothe him — Haejeong was showing signs of sudden anxiety, and he needed to calm him down.
“The laundry can wait…. Shit. You should’ve just slept more.”
Haejeong grumbled and pulled Munyeong tighter against him. It was strange — almost awkward — to see him so openly anxious over the thought that he’d disappeared, and yet a faint smile slipped out.
Moments like this, he really was like a kid. Sometimes Munyeong liked that side of him. The unguarded honesty, the way he didn’t care about appearances — it was endearing. He knew he wasn’t supposed to think like that, and he’d tried to push it away, but the truth was he was quite fond of that version of Haejeong. Childish, petulant, a little spoiled.
“But… you have to go to work soon.”
Munyeong continued, his voice gentle, like he was reasoning with him.
“What does it matter when I go to work. Just sleep more!”
Haejeong let go of him and scrunched his face in irritation. He was throwing a fit, demanding Munyeong go back to sleep.
“…But the owner of the house isn’t here — I can’t just….”
Munyeong rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. It wasn’t in his nature to lounge around in someone else’s home without them there. And besides — “I have to go to work too.”
He added, his face a little pale. Not that his body was in any condition for it. His lower back ached with every step, his legs felt like they might give out at any moment, and his backside — tormented all through the night — was so sore he couldn’t even sit properly.
“What…?”
The moment the words left his mouth, Haejeong’s expression went cold. Munyeong startled at the sudden shift and blinked in bewilderment.
“……Why…?”
Was saying he had to go to work really that… surprising…?
“Why…”
“How are you going to work in that condition?!”
Haejeong snapped, his face draining of color. The shout cracked through the air like a thunderbolt, and Munyeong just stood there, his expression flickering dumbly.
“…No, I know, but… I can’t just not go….”
“Is it the delivery job? Or the restaurant??”
Munyeong’s eyes went wide at the blunt question.
“…How did you know…?”
“What?”
“……How did you know I was doing those jobs…?”
For the past month, he’d taken every job he could get his hands on. Mornings at a hangover soup restaurant near his place, evenings doing deliveries, and in the early hours of dawn, making rounds at clubs and bars — living hard, the way he always had. The way he’d always lived. But Haejeong already seemed to know.
That moment came back to him — the puzzling gaze from across the street from the soup restaurant. That man who’d stood there on a rainy day, not moving. Could he have been….
At the question turned back on him, Haejeong’s expression faltered, and he quietly looked away from Munyeong’s gaze.
“Was that… you, back then?”
“…….”
“……Were you… watching me this whole time…?”
Munyeong asked slowly, his face still in a daze. The sharp edge in Haejeong’s eyes began to blur. Then, jutting his chin out with what looked like deliberate irritation, he answered with a take-it-or-leave-it air.
“…So what.”
“…….”
“What if I was.”
Munyeong could only stare at him, blinking, as he deflected like a guilty man with a tell. Under that all-too-transparent gaze, Haejeong let out a short breath — ha — and confessed with a candor that didn’t quite suit him.
“……What was I supposed to do.”
“…….”
“I just… really wanted to see you.”
Munyeong stared at him blankly, his expression slightly vacant. The words were grumbled out and tossed at him carelessly, but they were so honest that the honesty itself caught him off guard, and for a moment, he lost the ability to speak.
“…It was only a few times.”
“…….”
“I held back, and then… fuck, when it felt like I’d die if I didn’t — that’s when I went.”
“…….”
“Once in a while. Just… once in a while.”
Haejeong rambled on with excuses, like someone who’d gotten caught doing something they shouldn’t.
Munyeong’s face flushed at the string of blunt confessions landing one after another. The air seemed to heat up all at once, and he could only scratch absently at his throat.
“…Oh…, I, I see… so that’s… how it was….”
He wasn’t used to answers this honest — honest enough to send a chill down his spine. Whether it was the result of some decision made, Haejeong seemed to have no intention of hiding his feelings, not even a little.
“…You could’ve at least… acknowledged me.”
Munyeong blurted out something, anything, just to fill the space, embarrassed and flustered. His gaze scattered.
“……How could I just show up, to someone who said they didn’t want this and walked away.”
“…….”
“I cried and begged, and you still left… how could I just appear in front of someone like that.”
The memory came back to him without warning. Haejeong wiping away tears in the middle of Seoul — it felt like something from a past life. Though he had cried, it wasn’t quite as dramatic as “begging.” He’d come close to pleading, yes, but the phrasing was a stretch.
“…Back then…… I was confused too….”
He had been sad, and he had been hurt, and he’d also… thought that not seeing each other was the right thing to do. But in the end, just as Haejeong’s father had said — you can’t stop something good from pulling you back. The things that never stopped being impossible to suppress — the feelings he’d quietly harbored for him, the longing to see him, the worry. It was all Yeon Haejeong.
“Enough. You don’t need to explain yourself.”
Haejeong cut him off, his voice firm.
“It’s not something you need to explain.”
His expression darkened slightly, as if the memory of that time was coming back to him too. Haejeong’s mother. Haejeong finding out everything. Himself, exhausted and worn down. The day every possible misfortune had crashed down all at once — it was still something he couldn’t easily bring himself to talk about. And since he still didn’t know for certain what had happened between Haejeong and his mother, it was all the more difficult to speak of.
When that day was brought up, a heavy silence settled between them. Not wanting the mood they’d finally managed to recover to turn grim, Munyeong made himself smile and spoke up.
“…Should I head off to work now?”
At Munyeong’s soft smile as he asked, the stiffness that had seeped into Haejeong’s face dissolved into a deflated laugh. That — the way Munyeong redirected, softened things, smiled for the other person’s sake so they wouldn’t have to worry — made something in Haejeong’s chest go warm and tender. He was always like this. The kind of person who said everything was fine and genuinely wished that it would be fine for everyone around him. Always putting others before himself, without a shred of arrogance or pretense in any of it. With no money, no status, no connections — and yet he was steadier than people who had all of those things, and though he looked more fragile than anyone, he was stronger than most.
“Should I drive on the way…?”
Old habits from working under Haejeong died hard — Munyeong asked without thinking, turning to go. But a firm hand caught his arm with quiet certainty.
“Wait.”
“…….”
“I have something to say.”
Haejeong’s eyes held resolve as he spoke, calm and measured. Like a man who had prepared for this moment. His jaw set with quiet gravity. Just as Munyeong was beginning to wonder at the solemn buildup, Haejeong’s voice came again.
“…Hoo.”
“What is it you want to say….”
Munyeong had started to speak, thinking he was just drawing it out — but Haejeong’s low voice got there first.
“…Thank you.”
“…….”
“For liking… someone like me.”
