The next destination was a lounge bar inside a hotel in Samseong-dong. On the way there, Yeon Haejeong was on the phone with someone the entire time. Whoever it was seemed to be a personal acquaintance, judging by how casually — or rather, how lazily — he was responding. They moved from place to place several times, and throughout all of it, Munyeong and Yeon Haejeong did not exchange a single word. Munyeong had at least wanted to ask, out of basic courtesy, whether he’d gotten home alright that night — but there had been no opening at all, and a heavy silence that said don’t talk to me drifted through the car the entire time.
Once Haejeong headed into the lounge bar, he didn’t come back out for quite a long time. Munyeong had nodded off without realizing it and startled awake to check the time — it was well past midnight. He pressed his fingers into his drowsy eyes, fighting off the exhaustion that was piling on. If he left now, he’d only get a few hours of sleep before he had to be at work. Grinding through on no sleep was something he was used to — but somewhere past thirty, his body had stopped feeling the way it had in his twenties. The fatigue hit harder than it used to, and that was simply the truth.
About an hour more passed, and when Yeon Haejeong finally appeared, he wasn’t alone. He came out with a noticeably young man tucked under one arm. Munyeong faltered for a moment, then shook off the blank feeling that had come over him and scrambled out to do his job, hurrying to open the rear door.
“Oh, you have a driver?”
The young man smiled brightly and climbed in ahead of Haejeong. Haejeong looked considerably more disheveled than he had a few hours earlier — several shirt buttons undone, his neatly styled hair now tousled and loose. Even like that, it suited him, but that was beside the point.
Once Haejeong had gotten in as well, Munyeong went around to the other side and got behind the wheel with practiced ease by now. He started the engine to head to the final stop of the evening. Having someone other than Haejeong in the car made the air feel even harder to breathe than usual.
“I told you so many times to reach out when you come to Korea.”
The young man draped one leg over Haejeong’s thigh and pressed in close. The casual familiarity made it obvious they weren’t strangers.
“There are too many people who’ve said that to me. Can’t keep track of them all.”
His eyes were half-lidded — he looked somewhat drunk — but his words were clear.
“That stings, but I’ll let it go. You’re with me tonight, so.”
The young man grinned openly and hooked both arms around Haejeong’s neck, pressing their lips together. He leaned in like he was climbing into his arms and kissed him — mouth falling open, sounds spilling out without the slightest restraint.
Smack. At the wet noise, Munyeong’s hands tightened around the steering wheel on their own. Pretending not to notice in this sealed space, thick with that kind of atmosphere, was anything but easy.
“Ha—”
A sudden moan cut through the air and Munyeong’s shoulders jerked. Stopped at a red light, he glanced reflexively at the rearview mirror — and saw Haejeong buried in the young man’s neck. In that same position, Haejeong’s eyes lifted and met Munyeong’s directly in the mirror. Munyeong startled and wrenched his gaze away, pressing down on the accelerator. The light had changed to green just in time.
“Ha… hyung. I missed you.”
The young man pushed in even closer, dragging his lips across Haejeong’s mouth, his chin, the side of his neck — all over. He was practically frantic with eagerness, but Haejeong responded with dry, measured restraint, while his eyes quietly tracked Munyeong’s reflection at a diagonal.
Munyeong, with no idea he was being watched, headed for the destination as fast as he could manage. The embarrassment was bad enough to make his chest feel like it might burst. The last thing he wanted was to witness the love life of a first love from over ten years ago up close. And Munyeong — who had next to no experience with anything sexual — had no choice but to be deeply flustered.
He reached the final destination in ten minutes. He couldn’t even bring himself to announce their arrival — he just pulled into the parking structure and stopped the car.
“Can’t we do it here real quick before we go up?”
The young man, now practically sitting in Haejeong’s lap, asked with a coy smile. Two men doing that was already mortifying enough to watch, but the other man’s sheer enthusiasm made it worse. He looked barely past his early twenties at face value — a slight build, black hair, fair skin. Objectively good-looking, and the way he was being provocative was more than enough to be alluring. The sight of him suddenly brought to mind what Haejeong’s cousin had said. Haejeong’s type. His reportedly consistent type. The moment that clicked — thwack — the rear door swung open.
“Stop making a mess of yourself and get up.”
The young man only laughed softly at the blunt words.
With the last stop of the night finished, Munyeong hovered uncertainly, unsure whether to hand over the car keys or not. He desperately wanted to flee, but Haejeong hadn’t given him any clear instruction to go. As Haejeong steadied the young man around the waist — who was having some trouble walking straight — he turned his head toward Munyeong standing there awkwardly and spoke.
“Go up and sort out my things.”
He’d fully expected to be told to go home. What came instead hit like a thunderclap.
“……Pardon?”
Munyeong asked again without thinking, sure he’d heard wrong.
“Go up. And sort out my things.”
These two, who looked like they were about to go upstairs and have a very good time — and he was supposed to sort out luggage in the middle of that. What kind of instruction was this. Munyeong decided Haejeong was just being spiteful.
He wanted to die rather than do it, but the cold, flat stare aimed at him didn’t leave room for refusal. In the end, Munyeong followed behind them at a distance, like a man being dragged to his own execution.
Even in the elevator, the young man refused to detach himself from Haejeong. Desperate enough to look half-mad, he was practically squirming in place. Munyeong kept his eyes trained straight ahead with absolute rigidity, giving as little attention to that side as humanly possible. Whatever the two of them were doing, Haejeong tapped the card key and pressed the button for the highest floor without any fuss. It was high enough to make Munyeong’s ears go dull. Munyeong stepped out at the top while keeping his distance from the uncomfortable pair, and that was when it sank in — this was Haejeong’s new home. The highest floor. A single front door on the entire level. And Haejeong entering the code naturally and stepping inside like it was nothing.
The top floor of what might as well have been a hotel — his new home. Munyeong had run out of things to be surprised by. He also understood now that the things he’d been told to sort out were Haejeong’s moving boxes.
“This is your place, hyung? It’s insane, I love it.”
The moment they stepped into the penthouse, the young man snapped right out of his drunken daze and turned in wide-eyed circles across the vast living room floor like it was a sports field.
“The night view is amazing. Hyung, should we do it with the view?”
He pressed up against Haejeong with bright, expectant eyes, and Haejeong jerked his chin toward one side of the room and said simply.
“Go wait inside.”
“Aw, why — let’s do it in the living room.”
“Want to make it three?”
He tilted his chin toward Munyeong, who was standing there awkwardly, letting that implication sink in, and the young man puffed out his lips in a sulk.
“Ugh. Fine. Come in soon.”
The young man headed toward the bedroom, stripping off his jacket as he went. Young people these days were something else. He hadn’t bothered hiding what he was after for even a second, even with an outsider present. Munyeong couldn’t keep the shock off his face and felt heat rising to his cheeks.
The young man disappeared and the two of them were left alone without quite meaning to be. Munyeong couldn’t bring himself to look at Haejeong directly and stood there hesitating. The whole situation — being dragged here to sort out luggage of all things — made no sense to him, but regardless, he was in a position where he had no choice but to move according to Haejeong’s will. Munyeong swallowed down his discomfort and forced himself to ask as casually as he could manage.
“……Where should I start?”
Even at the question he’d gotten out with difficulty, Haejeong didn’t answer readily. He stood with his arms crossed, watching Munyeong with an odd look. After a brief silence he spoke.
“It’s mostly sorted already, just deal with my carry-ons.”
“……Alright.”
For a place he’d just moved into, the interior was already tidy — the only things out of place were three large suitcases sprawled across the floor. Everything else had apparently been put away by the movers.
Haejeong said what he needed to say and headed for the bedroom where the young man had disappeared. Unlike the young man who had been beside himself with anticipation, Haejeong just looked languid. But even the naive Munyeong knew well enough what was about to happen in there.
Don’t think about it. Munyeong repeated it in his head like a spell and started picking up Haejeong’s clothes scattered across the floor. The dressing room, as luck would have it, was positioned directly beside the bedroom. And with a connecting door between them, it was practically the same room.
The young man’s laughter, then rough, unrestrained sounds — all of it came through clearly. Hanging up shirts on the rack, Munyeong was forced to take in every embarrassing sound. Is he doing this on purpose? If it was deliberate — what was he trying to accomplish? Even just a few days ago, things hadn’t been this cold and strange between them. He’d always been rude — that hadn’t changed — but this kind of icy, cutting distance was something new. Munyeong couldn’t tell what had shifted, or whether he’d done something wrong.
Whether it was intentional or not, Munyeong felt a little wretched. Being in the position of someone who was always ordered around was something he’d never found pleasant to begin with, and feeling like he wasn’t even being treated as a person made the wretchedness unavoidable. He tried not to let it, but emotions never moved exactly where you pointed them. Still, Munyeong didn’t let it show — he swallowed it down as something that was his alone.
Ha—! A blunt, unmistakable moan, and Munyeong — who had been doing his best to block it out — flinched and looked toward the bedroom before he could stop himself. He couldn’t explain why that particular sound made his heart slam hard in his chest. He steadied himself, pressed his eyes shut in something like endurance, and moved faster. All he could think was that he needed to finish and get out. And then — underneath the heated breathing and the young man’s laughter that had been filtering through — rougher sounds began to come from the bedroom. Raised voices, something that sounded like an argument, and Munyeong blinked in confusion.
A beat later — bang! — the sound of a door being kicked open, and the young man stormed out with his face burning red, wheeling around to scream back toward the bedroom.
“Get out and die, you insane bastard—!”
