Earlier that year, Minjun had settled into a monotonous routine even after starting university. As a freshman, there had been orientation events, welcome camps, and MT trips to attend — but he always had to leave partway through. Every single time, there had been a summons from Gangha.
To his classmates, he made excuses about having a strict father and a curfew, which had earned him the nickname Prince. It had started when someone at a drinking session began calling him a sheltered little prince as a joke, and it had naturally stuck from there. It was a nickname meant to tease Minjun, who looked nothing like a prince by any stretch of the imagination.
In any case, thanks to Gangha, Minjun’s days remained regimented even in university. In the mornings he’d see Gangha off, then head to campus for lectures; in the evenings he’d go to meet Gangha; sometimes he’d prepare late-night snacks for him, help him study while checking practice answers together, tidy the apartment. He’d even occasionally gotten cooking lessons from the housekeeper.
As a result, Minjun had very few people he could call friends. During his five years of retaking the entrance exam, the handful of high school friends he’d had mostly drifted away, and he never had the chance to grow close to his university classmates. He’d dated a few times over the years, but every relationship had ended quickly. Usually he’d been the one confessed to at the start, only to be unceremoniously dumped at the end.
“Minjun. Choose — me or Baek Gangha?”
“Obviously you! You’re all I have.”
“Then why do you always drop everything and run the second Baek Gangha calls, even when you’re with me? Are you serious?”
“There are circumstances behind that…. You really are all I have. Please believe me.”
“Would you believe that if you were in my position? Put yourself in my shoes!”
“It’s not like that, …Yeonji! Don’t go!”
There was no way he could sustain a relationship when he’d get anxious and bolt the moment Gangha contacted him, even in the middle of a date. Splitting between Gangha and a girlfriend the time that should have gone entirely to one person — it was naturally going to be a stretch. So Minjun’s love life had always ended on a sour note.
But now, if Gangha started going out with Sowon, Minjun wanted to try having a proper relationship of his own.
“Your scores came out great. Is there anything you want to eat?”
On the day Gangha’s college entrance exam results came out, Minjun asked in his customary cringe-inducing tone. As expected, Gangha had scored perfectly. If Minjun had that kind of money, he’d have thrown studying out the window and done nothing but play — but Gangha was remarkably diligent.
“Gangha, want me to make you a steak?”
“Sure.”
Having spent so long at Gangha’s side playing errand boy, every dish Minjun knew how to cook was something Gangha liked. Minjun started with the ingredients always stocked in the fridge and put his skills to work. He seared a thick tenderloin and did his clumsy best at plating it with asparagus, producing a meal that looked respectable enough. The moment Gangha cut into the meat and put a piece in his mouth, Minjun was right there pestering him.
“Well? Haven’t I gotten better at cooking?”
“Yes, you have.”
Gangha answered unhurriedly, having swallowed what was in his mouth completely first. Gangha, who would never eat anything that didn’t taste good, ate what Minjun made without complaint. Most likely he’d just gotten used to Minjun’s cooking over the years. If I ever get fired for being bad at the job, I’d love it if he hired me as the housekeeper instead.
“Want to go see a movie after we eat?”
“Is there something you want to see, hyung?”
“Not particularly — I thought you’d like this one, so I bought tickets in advance.”
Minjun pulled up the film summary on his phone. It was about a protagonist who loses his memory and sets off to rediscover himself — clearly the kind of serious film that suited Baek Gangha’s tastes.
“You don’t really like this kind of thing, do you, hyung?”
“Today I specially picked something I thought you’d enjoy. How about it?”
“Good choice.”
The two of them had occasionally gone to the movies together before, going out at the late hour Gangha would return home after finishing his studies, and it had turned out to be a surprisingly good change of pace.
For reference, Minjun’s taste in films was unambiguous — superhero movies or supernatural action. He liked simple stories where a protagonist with extraordinary abilities defeats the villains. But today, for Gangha’s sake, he’d chosen something that looked like it would put him to sleep. From what he’d observed over the years, Gangha preferred films that weren’t loud. The exact opposite of Minjun’s taste.
“Let’s head out.”
“It’s cold outside. Put on your scarf.”
When Minjun tried to head out with only a light jacket, Gangha neatly wound the scarf around him. Gangha could be off-putting at times, but he had a quiet way of looking after people.
Humming to himself, Minjun headed to the parking garage and climbed into the sleek supercar that never failed to impress him no matter how many times he saw it. It was Gangha’s car, but Minjun borrowed it on occasion to show off.
They cruised down the open road and arrived at the cinema in no time. Slightly giddy with excitement, Minjun made his way naturally toward the snack stand. Even having just eaten dinner, the smell of popcorn got his appetite going again.
“Gangha, want some popcorn?”
“If you want some, get some.”
“Then I will.”
Honestly, he’d only asked out of politeness — every time they came to the movies, the popcorn was always Minjun’s to eat. He also bought squid snacks and nachos, and by the time they hadn’t even gone into the screening room yet, he’d already polished off most of it.
Gangha, seated across from him, was watching him with an unreadable look. Minjun grew conscious of the gaze and scratched his cheek.
“Maybe I should have left some instead of eating it all.”
“No. It’s nice to see you eating well.”
“I left some popcorn, at least.”
Minjun smiled awkwardly and said it as if in his defense. The popcorn, which had the most volume, was still about half full.
“Ah, I’m full. Ready to head in?”
“Yes.”
Rubbing his full stomach, Minjun walked into the screening room. He sat side by side with Gangha and watched the advertisements roll by with a blank stare. Having had dinner and then polished off popcorn, squid snacks, and nachos for dessert, the food coma hit him hard and his eyes began to droop.
And the film, chosen to suit Gangha’s tastes, was on the quieter side to begin with — so Minjun’s head began to nod drowsily less than five minutes into the movie.
His eyelids were so heavy there was simply no keeping them open. The gentle sound of waves lapped at his ears, and the protagonist was saying something in a low, quiet voice. It was more effective than any lullaby. In the end, Minjun couldn’t hold on any longer and dropped off to sleep like he’d been knocked out.
How much time had passed since then. Minjun stirred awake in the darkened screening room and rubbed his bleary eyes.
Wait, it’s already over? He must have slept soundly through to the very end of the film — the closing credits were rolling slowly up the screen.
But then an ominous feeling crept over him. Something that shouldn’t be wet felt wet.
Don’t tell me….
Minjun wiped at the corner of his mouth and shot upright in alarm. It seemed he had been drooling on Gangha’s shoulder the entire time he was asleep.
“…Looks like I got some drool on you. Sorry.”
In the dim light, his eyes met Gangha’s. Those calm eyes, neither angry nor mocking, were quietly watching him. The graceful, shadow-carved features looked somehow unsettling in this light. Minjun offered an awkward smile and wiped his drool off Gangha’s shoulder.
“Sorry. You should’ve just woken me up.”
“You looked like you were sleeping so soundly.”
The voice was calm, but Minjun couldn’t have been more uncomfortable. Knowing how much Gangha loathed anything unclean, there was no way he could take those words at face value.
“Oh, the movie was great! Let’s go home now.”
Not even able to properly recall the protagonist’s face, Minjun got to his feet pretending he’d thoroughly enjoyed it. He needed to get home quickly and get Gangha changed out of that drool-stained shirt. Gangha didn’t bother making fun of him — he simply rose to his feet quietly.
Once they were back in the car, Minjun ventured cautiously:
“Want to swap clothes with me?”
“It’s fine.”
“…You hate wearing clothes someone else had on too, right?”
“Yes. Dirty.”
For someone who usually never answers, he answers fast enough when it’s this. Minjun grumbled inwardly at the response that came without a moment’s hesitation.
“Doesn’t it bother you, wearing it?”
“It does. And it’s dirty.”
How many times is he going to say dirty. Spending time with Gangha had a way of making Minjun feel like one enormous walking germ.
“Then at least take that shirt off—”
Before Minjun could finish, Gangha had already pulled the drool-stained sweatshirt up over his head and off.
“…There you go. Good.”
He had a white short-sleeved tee on underneath, but Gangha’s mood didn’t look particularly improved.
Brow furrowed, Gangha pinched the shirt by the very tips of his fingers as though handling something contaminated and held it away from his body. The drool must have gotten there too. Minjun smiled sheepishly.
“That must feel gross. Sorry.”
Gangha seemed to have no more interest in discussing it — he held the shirt in one hand and stared out the window in silence. He was treating Minjun like a walking biohazard.
If it bothers him that much, he could’ve just shaken me awake. A light nudge would’ve done it — Minjun found it strange that he’d let it go on.
“Just bear with it a little longer.”
Squirming restlessly the whole way, Minjun got home as fast as he could. Fortunately, Gangha said nothing more for the rest of the drive.
Minjun kept a watchful eye until Gangha disappeared into his bedroom, then finally let out a breath of relief.
The sound of running water came from the bathroom — shooo — and Minjun carefully eased the door open and looked inside. As expected, every item of clothing Gangha had been wearing moments ago was stuffed into the wastebasket.
Minjun’s expression stiffened as he fished the crumpled clothes out and looked them over.
“These are so expensive…!”
Perfect. I’ll take these and wear them myself. Taking advantage of the sound of the shower, Minjun quietly collected the clothes and slipped back out.
