9.
Yeon Haejeong woke with a tired face. He had slept, technically — but it didn’t feel like it. He’d never been a good sleeper to begin with, but this time was a little different. He’d been lying there quietly when that face kept surfacing before him — smiling softly, drunk and unguarded.
Is it okay for a guy past thirty to smile like such a kid? Good grief. Yeon Haejeong grumbled to himself for no real reason and rolled over to the other side. He squeezed his eyes shut, telling himself to stop thinking and just sleep — and this time what floated up was a face swollen from crying. Lips glistening with the wetness of tears, eyes brimming with water, carrying a strangely forlorn air.
Ugh, damn it! Yeon Haejeong’s eyes flew open and he sat up abruptly. Then he glared at the wall on the other side of the room — the one shared with the adjacent room — as though it were his sworn enemy. Staring at the wall, he found himself worrying about whether Munyeong, on the other side, was sleeping properly. This would be his first time sleeping in a place like this. Knowing him, there was no way he could rest comfortably.
One thought chasing the next, Yeon Haejeong ended up staying awake through the entire night, only finally drifting off as dawn began to break. The reason he woke early despite having fallen asleep so late was a strange smell tickling his nose. The faint scent of food — something that could never exist in this house he lived in alone — gently pricked at him. Yeon Haejeong got up at once and opened the bedroom door. Stepping out into the living room, the smell of food hung even thicker in the air.
“…Oh, you’re up?”
Yeon Haejeong’s eyes went wide when he spotted Munyeong moving around in the dining room adjoined to the living room.
“There were groceries in the fridge…. I put together some breakfast.”
Munyeong smiled awkwardly and began carrying food over to the island counter. There was shyness mixed into his embarrassed expression.
“I’m not that great a cook…… though.”
Munyeong had gotten up before dawn to prepare breakfast. Now that he’d agreed to work, he wanted to do it properly. As much as he owed him — perfectly, in a way that would satisfy Yeon Haejeong. The ingredients weren’t plentiful, but there was enough to work with. It was clear Yeon Haejeong paid no attention to household matters whatsoever — quite a few things had been close to expiring.
Yeon Haejeong stared blankly at Munyeong in his apron and approached a little awkwardly. Laid out on the table was doenjang jjigae, gyeran mari, cucumber namul, and freshly steamed white rice.
“If there’s anything you’d like, just tell me. I’ll get the ingredients and make it.”
Munyeong added this, embarrassed by how modest the spread looked. It was all he could manage for now.
“…Wh-what’s all this, making breakfast and everything.”
“……Ah. Do you not eat breakfast……?”
Munyeong had figured that as long as he was working in his home, food, clothing, and shelter were all things he should take care of himself. That much labor, at least, felt like fair value.
“No, it’s not that I don’t eat……”
Yeon Haejeong hadn’t eaten breakfast. If anything, it was three shots of Americano. Back in America, he’d have a light scrambled eggs or some crispy bacon at most. Korean food with all its preparation didn’t appeal to him, and the Korean American woman who did the housework there had a distinctly different touch than what you’d get from someone raised in Korea. It always felt more like fusion Korean food than the real thing. That had gradually put him off traditional Korean cooking.
“You can… cook a little?”
“Ah…. Not well…. I worked at a restaurant once……”
An awkward air cut between the two of them. Munyeong could barely look at him — the memory of having cried so freely the night before while drunk was mortifying. The crying itself was embarrassing enough, but the image of him coming close and wiping away his tears kept rising up unbidden, making his heart pound terrifyingly. Afraid the thumping might be noticed, Munyeong finished laying out the cutlery in front of him and spoke.
“Well then, enjoy your meal…. I don’t know if it’ll suit your taste……”
Munyeong said it awkwardly and turned away. He thought he should make himself scarce quickly — but the moment he turned, his arm was seized with alarming speed. Pulled back by that force, Munyeong looked at him with startled eyes, and Yeon Haejeong asked with a puzzled expression.
“You’re not eating?”
At the displeased crease in his eyes, Munyeong quickly made his excuse.
“Ah, n-no…. I thought you’d be more comfortable eating alone……”
Munyeong still couldn’t stand to look at his face. Just having shown him that disgraceful display yesterday had already exceeded his tolerable limit of humiliation. And on top of that, acknowledging that his feelings toward him were growing made it even harder to meet his eyes.
“I don’t eat alone.”
Yeon Haejeong replied curtly.
“Ah……”
Munyeong let out a small sigh and shuffled over. He was, per the contract that had been drawn up, a proper eul — the subordinate party. A debtor had no choice but to be the eul, so he quietly took the seat across from him.
The moment he sat down meekly, Yeon Haejeong picked up his spoon right away. First a spoonful of rice, then a slow bite of jjigae. He savored it as if tasting carefully — then, with briefly surprised eyes, glanced up at Munyeong sitting across from him, before immediately starting to eat with hurried urgency.
In truth, Yeon Haejeong was someone who had eaten the finest foods from every corner of the world. When he went to gatherings, it was always restaurants with at least two Michelin stars, a lavish person who sought out only the most expensive establishments. On top of that, Chairman Yeon — head of Baekil Group and known for being a gourmet — had employed chefs at the main estate who were all celebrated figures with Michelin credentials. Having grown up under such a father, it was only natural.
And yet this Yeon Haejeong, with his finicky palate, was demolishing the food as though he hadn’t eaten in days. Worried he might be eating too fast, Munyeong poured water into a mug with a concerned look and held it out beside him.
“T-take it slow……”
Is he that hungry……? Munyeong watched him with bewildered eyes.
It wasn’t food made with professional skill — but as if his palate had broken down entirely, to Yeon Haejeong it tasted insanely good. He had never once eaten so ravenously, yet here he was, scooping up heaping spoonfuls of rice and filling his mouth to the brim.
Munyeong felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the sight, and even reached over to pick up some side dishes and place them on top of his rice bowl. At that natural gesture, Yeon Haejeong paused and looked at him — and Munyeong, realizing what he’d done, hurried to say,
“I-it’s for eating together……”
He’d been eating only the jjigae and rice so haphazardly that Munyeong had served him without thinking.
At Munyeong’s words, Yeon Haejeong’s eyebrow twitched slightly — and then he put the piece of gyeran mari Munyeong had given him into his mouth in one bite. At the sight of him eating it without a word of complaint, Munyeong let the corners of his lips curl up quietly. He shouldn’t be smiling — but laughter kept slipping out of him without his knowing.
“Is it alright……?”
Munyeong asked cautiously at the sight of him eating in complete silence, and Yeon Haejeong, forcing down the food packed into his mouth, replied with an air of dignity.
“Well…. More or less.”
And then he pushed his empty bowl toward him and said briefly, Give me more. Munyeong nodded with a somewhat brightened face and refilled his bowl.
**
Hmm. Freshly washed and cleanly shaved, Yeon Haejeong hummed to himself as he turned his face this way and that in the mirror. He ran a hand along his smoothly shaven jaw, and unable to tear his eyes away from a face without a single flaw, seemed thoroughly absorbed in his own reflection.
“Perfect as ever today.”
Yeon Haejeong smiled at a slight angle and shook out his hair. It was different from other mornings when he’d wake up suffering through a hangover every day. Maybe because he’d had a proper meal — his condition wasn’t bad. Realizing for the first time in a long while that mornings could feel refreshing, he stepped out of the bathroom wearing only his shower robe.
He was whistling as he passed through the living room when he spotted Munyeong, already running the vacuum cleaner. He works this diligently even when no one’s asking him to — it must be tiring. Yeon Haejeong gave Munyeong, who was showing an impressive level of concentration, a once-over, and headed toward his dressing room. Just then, Munyeong, who had spotted him coming out of the bathroom, approached quickly.
“Um, this……”
He pointed to a hanging rack set aside with a few shirts arranged on it, and quietly spoke.
“What’s that?”
“Ah… I, I ironed some of your shirts……”
“…What?”
“…Just a few of the ones you wear often…. For when you go to work……”
Munyeong said only that, gave a brief bow, then returned to his spot and started up the vacuum again.
Ha, honestly. When did he even do this. There was already a separate clothing steamer, so there was no need to iron by hand in the first place. Yeon Haejeong looked at Munyeong with a baffled expression, then reached out and lightly touched one of the crisply ironed shirts. There was definitely a difference between machine and hand — that much was clear. The already expensive fabric seemed to carry itself even better, and the warm, cozy scent of freshly ironed cloth wafted off it.
…Not bad.
Satisfied, Yeon Haejeong slipped off his robe and pulled the shirt on right away.
He’d forced this arrangement purely to keep Munyeong under his control — but Munyeong was carrying it out with genuine perfection. Whether at work or at home, he operated with an enormous sense of professionalism. Yeon Haejeong snuck a glance at Munyeong through the dressing room doorway, and clicked his tongue with something almost like reluctant admiration.
