Maybe it was for the sake of his cameo appearance, but his hair had changed. The dark brown had been lightened to a soft, bright brown. A white turtleneck under a beige long coat made his already gentle features look even more radiant. Only after that did Kang Hyeon notice the small flower pot he was holding, filled with blooming flowers.
“…You said you’d come at dawn.”
“And I did. Just now.”
“It’s midnight.”
“It’s been two minutes. Besides, people usually say dawn is like 1 or 2 a.m., right? If you think of it that way, I came before 1 a.m.”
Yoon Do-yeong, testing the waters, held out the flower pot.
“This is your birthday present.”
Kang Hyeon stepped aside to let him in, and as Do-yeong hurried in, he spotted a plastic bag dangling from his arm.
“…What’s that?”
“Stuff for the seaweed soup.”
“…”
“You gotta simmer it for a long~ time to make it good. I was gonna start cooking now.”
As he rifled through the bag and made his way to the sink, Kang Hyeon cut him off firmly.
“You’re seriously trying to make seaweed soup in the middle of the night? Go to sleep.”
The second he said it, Do-yeong shoved the entire bag into the fridge and began peeling off his clothes. He’d clearly come ready to sleep—now in just a T-shirt and shorts, he flopped onto the bed. Kang Hyeon picked up the clothes he’d tossed on the floor and hung them up.
“You know this is ridiculous, right?”
At that, Do-yeong pretended not to hear and spoke up.
“You sleep on the inside. I’ll take a nap first, then get up and cook.”
After making space for Kang Hyeon on the inside of the bed, he pointed at the flower pot.
“That plant blooms year-round. Put it on your table.”
Kang Hyeon looked at it. Tiny red flowers, barely bigger than a thumb joint, were in full bloom, with countless buds still waiting to open.
“It’s a rose begonia. Think of it as a half-succulent. Water it when the surface soil dries out. Don’t spray the flowers—they wither quickly if you do.”
“…It’s pretty.”
“I picked it super carefully. So take good care of it.”
“Okay.”
Kang Hyeon placed the pot on the table. He stared at the red flowers that looked like roses, then turned off the lights. Hesitating a moment, he climbed into the space Do-yeong had cleared and lay down, angled toward the wall. His heart began to race in the darkness. Just then, a message arrived on his phone. Curious, he checked—it was a birthday message from Baek Ga-yeong.
[Happy birthday]
[You know how much I love you, right?]
[As promised, I’ll give you today off. Enjoy the pure, bone-deep joy and happiness of your birth—and then return to my embrace.]
As he was about to reply, he sensed Do-yeong peeking at his screen. Kang Hyeon stared at him.
Still pretending to look at the phone, Do-yeong shifted his eyes and glanced back at him. With an awkward smile, he muttered weakly,
“She says she loves you…”
“…”
Kang Hyeon hesitated, then started typing. At the same time, Do-yeong’s eyes went straight back to his screen. Annoyed by his obvious curiosity, Kang Hyeon shot him a side glance and typed a careful reply to the woman who’d generously given him the day off.
When he’d said he’d be missing work on both Do-yeong’s birthday and Valentine’s Day, her face had clearly shown concern.
“Are you dating someone?”
“…Just for that day.”
“You little brat. Weren’t you the one who said acting was your only love?”
“There’s someone I really want to celebrate with.”
“Who…?”
“It’s Do-yeong’s birthday. He felt really bad that the role that came to me ended up going back to him. He flew in the middle of the night just to try to talk things out. I said something kind of cruel to him.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him not to steal roles.”
Her eyes had gone wide at that.
“…That’s harsh.”
“Yeah… I basically made it sound like he was the one in the wrong. I think that’s why he’s having such a hard time. His insomnia’s gotten worse. He won’t say anything over the phone, but I can tell he’s struggling. I can see how hard he’s trying to fix the awkwardness between us. So…’
Trailing off, he forced himself to say it.
“I have no right to push him away. I’m going to come clean.”
“Good. Have a drink and spill it all.”
She gave him a pat on the back and smiled.
“Then I can cast you two in a café commercial.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little too transparent with your personal desires?”
“Branch two. Branch three. Maybe even a hundred. You two are my golden ticket. I expect great things.”
Recalling their conversation brought a smile to his face.
[Feels like I’m always the one receiving. Thank you, truly. I’ll work hard and live up to your hopes. You’ve done so much—get some good rest.]
“That’s one long reply…”
Do-yeong mumbled, sounding like he was talking to himself, and then rolled over to face the other way.
Watching his back, Kang Hyeon paused—then hit backspace.
[Thank you, as always.]
He sent the short, typical message and silenced his phone.
The air between them had gone stiff again. Kang Hyeon broke the silence.
“Goodnight.”
No reply.
He gently pulled the blanket over Do-yeong’s shoulder and stared at his broad back.
Then, slowly, his eyes drifted upward.
Still hitting the gym, huh? His traps and neck looked firm and sculpted. His soft-looking hair drew Kang Hyeon’s hand almost instinctively. He stopped just short of touching it, clenching his arms to stop himself from reaching out. Then he closed his eyes.
A small room. A small bed. Yet the warmth of Do-yeong’s body seemed to seep through the air, gently soaking into Kang Hyeon.
He couldn’t sleep, only sensing the warmth behind him. Then, Do-yeong shifted.
At the same time he turned toward him, the blanket settled softly over Kang Hyeon’s shoulder. A light arm draped around him, as if to embrace him.
Not brave enough to face him directly, Kang Hyeon turned away.
Do-yeong quickly pulled his arm back.
Kang Hyeon’s brow furrowed slightly.
A pang of disappointment. He leaned his head against the wall.
Trying to shake off the tangle of emotions and thoughts, he fought to fall asleep.
He drifted off, only to wake again, aware of the warmth behind him. It happened over and over, until finally, his mind went blank.
The clatter of dishes woke him.
Do-yeong, no longer in bed, was busy at the tiny sink.
He looked perfectly focused, prepping ingredients. But the messy strands of hair sticking up gave away the fact he’d just woken up.
He moved carefully despite his size, pulling things from plastic bags and setting them silently on the table.
Kang Hyeon watched for a while, then shut his eyes again.
The soft clinks and rhythmic chopping, the bubbling water—soon the room filled with the scent of seafood.
The hiss of steam from the rice cooker followed.
All those sounds tickled his ears and heart like soft down. It was getting harder to stay in bed. But he stayed still, listening to Do-yeong moving gently around the kitchen.
Then, sensing something strange, he slowly opened his eyes.
“Hyeon-ah, did you sleep well?”
That gentle voice made his eyes go wide.
There was Do-yeong, sitting at the edge of the bed, watching him.
Who knows how long he’d been like that?
It looked like he’d been waiting for him to wake up.
“You scared me.”
“Why?”
“…There was this giant thing in front of me.”
Kang Hyeon got up and walked to the bathroom to avoid his gaze.
Do-yeong called after him.
“Don’t I look reliable?”
“…Yeah.”
A beat late, Kang Hyeon responded and entered the bathroom.
He turned on the cold water and splashed his flushed face.
The sting of the cold brought him back to his senses.
Looking in the mirror, his hair was a mess.
He washed it quickly and dried it with a hairdryer, then studied himself in the mirror.
He looked tired, with shadows under his eyes.
He applied lotion from the shelf, then mixed BB cream with a bit more lotion to thin it out and applied it lightly.
He tapped it in carefully to help it absorb.
When he finally stepped out, Do-yeong was setting soup bowls on the table.
“Let’s eat.”
“…Why is there so much food?”
The table was filled with bulgogi, spicy marinated crabs, japchae, and spicy braised chicken.
“The bulgogi and crab are store-bought. The japchae’s just instant noodles—I stir-fried some veggies and mixed them in.”
The unexpected feast made him feel a little awkward. He stared as Do-yeong scooped up a bowl of freshly cooked rice and set it in front of him. No way he could keep his usual cold tone.
“I’m touched.”
His honest words came out calmly, and Do-yeong beamed, still holding the ladle. He looked beautiful—his bedhead, too, somehow made the flutter in Kang Hyeon’s chest worse.
He tried to hide it with a dry tone.
“…Is this some kind of concept?”
“What is?”
“Trying out for a cooking show? Never mind. Just stick to commercials.”
Without much coherence, Kang Hyeon picked up his spoon.
The seaweed soup had a heap of sea urchin roe in it. As he scooped up a spoonful, Do-yeong sat across from him, eyes twinkling. Expecting a reaction.
Kang Hyeon opened his mouth automatically.
“I haven’t tried it yet.”
“Then hurry up.”
He took a bite.
“Ah—hot!”
He sucked in air to cool his mouth, then took another spoonful.
Seeing that, Do-yeong leaned forward and gently blew on it. Flustered, Kang Hyeon hesitated, then slowly brought the spoon to his lips.
“It’s good.”
“That’s it?”
“…”
“You better not go on a variety show either.”
“If they invite me, I’ll go.”
“Then I’ll ask to be on with you.”
“You wanna get embarrassed together? Articles will pair me—the stiff one with no social skills—and you, the smug jerk who rubs people the wrong way.”
“Then… should we start a personal channel together?”
“…When I’m a little more well-known.”
He grabbed a chunk of chicken from the spicy stew, making it clear he wasn’t planning to ride Do-yeong’s fame. Then he heaped japchae onto his plate.
“Is it okay?”
“It’s delicious.”
“What’s the best?”
“Seaweed soup. Chicken stew. Rice.”
“So everything I made?”
“…Guess so.”
Do-yeong smiled proudly and teased,
“I’m good at everything, huh?”
“Ugh, you’re so full of yourself.”
Their laughter overlapped as Kang Hyeon scooped up half his rice and dunked it into the soup. That’s when the door was suddenly pounded on—loud and urgent.
Frowning, Kang Hyeon stood up.
“Who is it?”
“Open up! It’s freezing!”
The voice through the door was unmistakably familiar.
He hesitated, then opened the door. And immediately—a bouquet of red roses was thrust into his face.
