So this was where they came to—a baseball stadium.
He looked up at the massive concrete structure with its open-air ceiling. He had never been anywhere like this before. People dressed in baseball uniforms were scattered throughout the area, clearly here to watch the game.
“We’re here to see a baseball game?”
Go Hoon asked casually as he followed behind Bae Jung-yoon, who had just stepped out of the car. But instead of answering, Jung-yoon, who was busy unloading the trunk, brought up something completely different.
“If your body starts to feel off, tell me right away. Got it?”
Their eyes met. Go Hoon let out a quiet sigh and gave a small nod.
“Got it.”
“Come on.”
Apparently satisfied with the response, Bae Jung-yoon began walking.
By now, he could at least tell me why we’re here, right? What the hell is this? Grumbling inwardly, Go Hoon trailed after him.
And then, not long after, he ran into someone unexpected.
“Hyung!”
The one waving excitedly at him from afar was unmistakably Yoon Seong-gon. Standing beside him was Mr. Yoon.
“Sir.”
“Oh, Hoon! You made it.”
Still dazed, Hoon gave a polite bow. Mr. Yoon greeted him warmly, as if he’d known all along Hoon would be showing up.
“It’s been a while, Hoon.”
“Hello, ma’am.”
Now that he looked, Mr. Yoon’s wife was here too. All of them were dressed in fan gear. Was this some sort of family outing to the stadium?
“Nice to meet you. I’m Bae Jung-yoon.”
“Oh, hello. I’ve heard a lot about you from my son.”
But what was with Jung-yoon acting like this had all been arranged beforehand? Hoon shot him a look, clearly expecting some sort of explanation—but the guy didn’t even glance his way, too busy chatting with ease.
“Shall we head in?”
After the introductions, Bae Jung-yoon guided the group forward. As they started walking, Go Hoon quickly caught up and subtly tugged him back.
“What is going on?”
What the hell was this? He hadn’t been told anything—not a word—and now not just Seong-gon, but even his parents were here? But Bae Jung-yoon replied as if it were no big deal.
“I told Seong-gon I’d get him tickets, remember?”
“…When?”
“The first time the three of us met at the café. You don’t remember?”
He couldn’t recall a single detail of that conversation. Vaguely, he remembered them talking about baseball. But after that… what had they said?
He tried to jog his memory, but it seemed Bae Jung-yoon took his silence a different way.
“Don’t feel like watching the game? Want to just head home?”
He sounded—and looked—completely willing to turn back if Go Hoon asked. Go Hoon glanced away, conflicted.
“Hyung, is something wrong?”
Yoon Seong-gon and Mr. Yoon had stopped walking. Seeing the two of them paused, looking confused, made it hard to keep objecting.
“…It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
In the end, Go Hoon just tapped Jung-yoon’s arm and started walking again, acting like nothing was wrong.
***
The seats Bae Jung-yoon had reserved weren’t your average outdoor seats. They were clearly set aside for VIPs.
It was a spacious indoor suite that seemed entirely theirs. Not only was there a fully stocked refrigerator, but bottled water and soft drinks were provided as well. Several large tables were arranged to allow for comfortable dining.
Beyond the sliding glass doors was a balcony-style viewing area, and even from inside, they could watch the game on a large screen TV.
“Whoa, Jung-yoon hyung. This is nuts. The setup here is amazing.”
At Seong-gon’s over-the-top reaction, Go Hoon couldn’t help clicking his tongue. Honestly, he was just as impressed. Mr. Yoon didn’t say much, but he was beaming—an expression Hoon had never seen from him before.
Apparently, this was the home stadium for the team they supported. That probably explained why both father and son were so fired up.
While Bae Jung-yoon chatted effortlessly with people he was meeting for the first time, Go Hoon quietly ate the food he’d brought along. He was the first to mostly finish eating and quietly stepped out to the outdoor balcony seating.
The moment he opened the glass door, a roar of noise hit his ears. He approached the railing and looked down. Cheerleaders and fans were in the midst of a full-blown cheering war.
As he watched the game alone for a while, a voice interrupted him.
“What do you think?”
He turned around and saw Bae Jung-yoon stepping outside. He was holding two plastic cups filled with dark red wine. Taking the offered cup, Go Hoon turned back to the field and finally spoke.
“What?”
“Are you enjoying it?”
He stared blankly out at the vast stadium, then slowly nodded.
“Yeah. It’s fun.”
He didn’t feel the need to deny it. The noisy, electric atmosphere wasn’t unpleasant. No—if he was being honest, he liked it. Just a little while ago, he’d been annoyed at Bae Jung-yoon for springing this on him without warning, but now, his feelings had clearly shifted to something more positive.
Go Hoon glanced back. Mr. Yoon’s family was sitting around the table, eating together and chatting. There was nothing particularly special about the scene, but for some reason, he found it hard to look away.
Suddenly, he wondered— Would he ever have a family like that? One that nagged and bickered, but ultimately loved and looked out for one another. A family where affection gave rise to scolding—because they cared enough to.
“What are you thinking about?”
Just as he was sketching out some vague image of his future through them, a voice broke through his thoughts. He turned and met Bae Jung-yoon’s gaze.
“Nothing.”
Maybe it was the wine, a few glasses in. Or maybe it was the lively atmosphere, putting him in a strange mood. Whatever the reason, instead of brushing off the question, Go Hoon answered on impulse—truthfully.
“I was just thinking it’d be nice to have a family like that.”
His tone was light, even casual, though the meaning behind his words was anything but. He’d never said something like that to anyone before. But today… it felt like he could. The noise, the chaos—it felt like no one would really hear him anyway. Like even something so personal would be swept away in the current, reduced to nothing more than small talk.
He chuckled at the ridiculousness of the thought. Bae Jung-yoon looked at him, eyes dark with something unspoken. He didn’t seem surprised or shaken by the confession. Instead, he gazed at him calmly and said in a low voice,
“You’ve got me, don’t you?”
Go Hoon met his eyes for a moment, then looked away without answering. He tilted his glass and took a sip of wine. The bitter tang of it scraped his tongue, deliberate and sharp—almost like he needed the sting to keep himself from smiling without thinking.
Could what they had really be called family? A relationship born of necessity. Family was supposed to be something thicker, deeper—something binding. Could they really pretend to be anything like that?
And yet… what would it feel like, if there came a day when Bae Jung-yoon was no longer part of his life? What would his world look like if Jung-yoon were completely erased from it?
Their relationship was never built to last. He’d always believed that. Something this vague, this undefined—it couldn’t continue forever. Go Hoon didn’t see much of a future between them. Once you crossed a line you were never meant to step over, it became impossible to keep things balanced.
Still staring off into the distance, he asked in a flat tone,
“What are your parents like?”
The question came out of nowhere, but he felt the need to shift the subject— and, truthfully, he’d always been curious. What kind of people were they? What kind of environment had shaped Bae Jung-yoon into who he was?
He knew that asking about family could make people uncomfortable. That was why he usually avoided questions like this. He also believed he shouldn’t let himself get too deeply involved.
But in the end, the desire spilled out anyway.
“What is this, an interrogation? Are we getting married or something?”
Jung-yoon shot back with a teasing smirk, clearly unaware of the weight behind the question. Go Hoon let out a breathy scoff and rolled his eyes. That only made Jung-yoon grin wider before continuing in a nonchalant tone.
“Honestly… I’m not sure how to describe them. It’s been a long time since either of them’s been around.”
Not the answer he was expecting.
“…You mean, both of them?”
There were a lot of ways that sentence could be interpreted. Go Hoon wasn’t sure what he meant yet, so he treaded carefully. But Bae Jung-yoon nodded without hesitation, his expression unchanged.
“My dad divorced my mom when I was really little.
We haven’t been in contact in ages.”
Go Hoon started picking at a rough patch of skin on his finger. He hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t imagined he came from a broken home.
“And my mom… she passed away in an accident when I was in high school.”
His hand, which had been idly rubbing at the skin, froze.
The last time Jung-yoon had mentioned his mother, he hadn’t said anything about her death. Go Hoon had assumed they just lived apart. But this was something else entirely.
Had he brought up the wrong topic? A dull weight pressed against his chest. But Jung-yoon’s expression stayed calm, unshaken. His pitch-dark eyes were still, unreadable.
“It was a car accident.”
His gaze drifted, as if combing through a distant memory.
“For some reason that day, she wanted to go see the ocean. So we went out for a drive.”
His eyes were fixed on a point somewhere beyond Go Hoon’s shoulder, but whatever they held was impossible to read. His expression was a mask, his face completely opaque.
Go Hoon suddenly remembered what he’d once said— That he’d never gone on a trip with anyone before.
But a trip didn’t have to be elaborate. Even a simple drive with someone could count. Still, for Bae Jung-yoon, that day would never be remembered as a vacation. Only as the day of a tragic accident.
“It happened in an instant. Before I even realized what was going on, we hit the guardrail. And then I blacked out.”
His voice was calm. Go Hoon said nothing, just listened. Bae Jung-yoon held his gaze—still no sadness, not even a flicker.
“The doctors said I was lucky.”
He stared back with a quiet intensity, as if studying Go Hoon’s face for a reaction.
“And someone once said to me…”
“…”
“…‘Maybe you caused the crash on purpose.’”
He smiled as he said it, as if it were just some throwaway joke. But Go Hoon couldn’t laugh.
Who could’ve said something like that? What kind of life had he lived to hear such words? He wanted to ask—but the words wouldn’t come. Jung-yoon was looking at him like he was some kind of strange animal.
“Why are you looking at me like that, Hoon?”
Go Hoon didn’t understand the question. So he asked back.
“How am I looking at you?”
Jung-yoon’s smile deepened as he replied,
“Like you pity me.”
Everyone carries their own pain. Back at the orphanage, every kid had their own tragic story. He’d thought he was used to hearing things like this. Maybe even sick of it.
But for some reason— Bae Jung-yoon’s strange little smile cut far deeper.
He didn’t reply. Just held his gaze. And finally, the smile faded. Jung-yoon leaned in slightly and whispered,
“I’m fine.”
“…”
“Because you’re here now.”
Go Hoon couldn’t understand him. He couldn’t understand Bae Jung-yoon.
Why did Jung-yoon look at him like that? Like as long as he was there, nothing else in the world mattered.
