Haon, clutching a soft pillow instead of the familiar large body, blinked sleepily and looked around in a daze. Mumbling Inho’s name in a slurred voice, he widened his eyes as he caught sight of the bright light streaming through the window.
‘How long had he been asleep?’
The last thing he remembered was lying on the sofa with Inho as the sun was setting. Now, it was high in the sky. He knew he was the type who needed a lot of sleep, but he hadn’t expected to sleep this long.
“I’m not a sloth, for god’s sake…”
Regretting the time lost to sleep, he hurriedly got out of bed. He figured he should shower first, but just as he was heading toward the bathroom, he stopped abruptly.
‘These pants… Were these the ones I was wearing?’
Instead of the new pants he had just bought yesterday, Haon was now in his old, comfy sweatpants—the ones he usually wore around the house. They were stretchy and sturdy, and he’d been wearing them for over three years.
‘I don’t remember changing clothes.’
With a dazed expression, Haon looked back and forth between his pants and his bed.
‘Now that I think about it… how did I even get to the room?’
“Did I walk here myself…?”
No matter how hard he tried to recall, the last thing he remembered was falling asleep with Inho on the sofa. Which could only mean—Inho must have carried him to bed. And changed his clothes too.
“Oh!”
Placing his hand flat against his chest, Haon suddenly realized his shirt had been changed as well. Top and bottom—he was wearing the exact outfit he always slept in.
“Ah…”
And on top of that, he wasn’t even wearing any underwear.
“I didn’t touch your underwear.”
Inho’s voice rang out from behind, startling Haon, who stood frozen with a dumbfounded look on his face.
Inho was leaning casually against the doorframe, watching him. He had knocked, but Haon had been too lost in thought to hear it.
“I didn’t know where you kept it, and I figured it’d make you uncomfortable if I just went digging around.”
Inho offered an innocent smile as he explained that he’d only changed Haon’s clothes. It was the kind of smile that could make you forgive him even if he had done something else.
“Th-thank you…”
Haon bowed his head slightly, unable to meet his eyes. Even though they had already crossed every line there was to cross, just the fact that Inho had seen him without underwear made Haon blush with embarrassment.
“When did you wake up…?”
“This morning. Did you know we slept a lot?”
Inho, arms crossed, beamed even brighter now. His face lit up as though he were sharing some fun little secret.
“I thought it was Tuesday, but turns out it’s Wednesday. For a second, I wondered if I was the one who got the date wrong.”
Haon just smiled back, trying to cool his burning cheeks. He wanted to join in and laugh with him, but his lips refused to move.
“If you’re still tired, want to go back to sleep?”
“No, I’m fully awake now.”
Inho studied Haon quietly, noticing how his words had grown fewer, and turned to leave the room. He wanted to talk with him a bit more, but it seemed like Haon was uncomfortable around him at the moment.
“I’ll be in the living room. Call me if you need anything.”
Just as he was about to close the door, Haon trotted out after him and looked up. His lips parted slightly, as if he had something to say, and he scratched at his cheek hesitantly.
“I should change your bandage, Haon-ssi.”
Inho gently caught Haon’s wrist as he reached up to touch his cheek and tapped the bandage, which had started to come loose.
“When you’re at home, just apply some ointment.”
He wanted to remove the bandage himself but held back. Somehow, he felt like he shouldn’t increase the physical contact between them right now. He couldn’t explain why—he just had a feeling.
“Yesterday…”
After some hesitation, Haon finally spoke, his cheeks blooming a delicate pink. The way his face flushed, it looked almost like he was wearing makeup. Inho’s eyebrows twitched ever so slightly at the sight.
‘I want to touch him.’
Inho suppressed the urge and simply replied, “Yes?”
“No, I mean… the day before yesterday. I’m sorry.”
Haon corrected himself and dropped his gaze, fumbling over his words. It was too embarrassing to look Inho in the eye while saying it.
“For what?”
As Haon faltered in silence, Inho spoke up first, his face wearing an expression of genuine confusion.
“I don’t think you have anything to apologize for, Haon-ssi.”
Hearing his soft murmur, Haon’s eyes slowly lifted back to Inho. His round gaze brimmed with disbelief.
“You… don’t remember?”
Haon’s whole body tensed, uncertain of what kind of answer would come next. Inho seemed so normal—it really looked like he didn’t remember anything.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Inho rubbed the back of his neck and turned his head aside.
‘He really doesn’t remember. Well, he was really drunk… it makes sense he wouldn’t.’
Haon pressed the tips of his fingers together tightly as he recalled how quickly Inho had been downing his drinks.
“If it’s something that’s making you uncomfortable, just forget it.”
Inho looked down at Haon again, his voice calm.
“Everyone makes mistakes when they drink.”
With a soft smile, he stepped back as if to leave the conversation behind. Haon stared at his retreating figure, one step at a time… until he suddenly reached out and grabbed Inho’s arm.
“I… I kissed you.”
‘I kissed you, Inho-ssi. I was too drunk and…’
His voice trembled as he forced out the words he could’ve left buried. He didn’t even know why—he just couldn’t stop himself from saying it.
“That’s not true.”
Then, Inho turned back to face him, leaning in slightly. A small smile crept onto his lips as he spoke softly.
“You only touched my lips. I was the one who kissed you.”
As Inho leaned in and whispered softly by his ear, Haon drew a sharp breath and froze.
‘So… he remembered after all.’
“It was just a mistake—so don’t regret it.”
Inho took in Haon’s dazed expression with gentle eyes, then left the room with a warm smile lingering on his lips. Before he disappeared into the living room, he reminded Haon once more to apply ointment. He figured Haon might forget.
“…Okay.”
Haon stood blankly, watching Inho settle onto the sofa, then slowly moved his feet. Following Inho’s words, he peeled off the bandage and applied the ointment first. Afterward, he glanced shyly at the closed door, then stepped into the bathroom and began to undress. As he took off each piece of clothing that Inho had put on him, a small spark that had been quietly lying dormant suddenly flared to life inside him.
Flustered, Haon rushed into the shower and turned on the cold water. His body kept heating up, and he needed to cool down. But the water was too cold—he flailed like a fish out of water, fumbling with the controls until he found a tolerable lukewarm setting and washed himself off.
His actions were hasty, but his face looked oddly at peace. Deep down, Haon felt relieved. He was so glad that Inho remembered everything—and wasn’t disgusted by any of it.
“Thank god…”
A quiet whisper escaped his lips as that familiar blush bloomed across his face again like a flower in full bloom.
***
Hearing the sound of footsteps, Inho turned his head away from the TV.
Haon had just come out of the shower. It looked like he’d dried his hair with a blow dryer—his fine strands were only slightly damp at the tips. His left cheek, where the bandage had been, now gleamed with a thick layer of ointment.
He hadn’t forgotten a single thing Inho told him.
Their eyes met, and Haon gave him a small, polite bow before walking confidently toward the front hallway. Watching him go, Inho set down the remote and got to his feet.
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, nowhere. Just gonna clean up a bit.”
Haon opened the cleaning supply closet, determined to finally take care of the household chores he’d been putting off. It had been days. He even felt too guilty to accept his salary from Inho at this point.
“The cleaner already came by this morning.”
“What?”
Haon froze, wide-eyed, as he pulled out the vacuum. There was someone who cleaned this house regularly, and yet—
“I figured you were still exhausted. You haven’t even been eating properly—how could you possibly work?”
“No, I mean… I can clean, though…”
“Start again next week. Rest up till tomorrow.”
Inho gently took the vacuum from his hands and placed it back where it belonged. Then, perhaps worried Haon would go looking for another task, he guided him by the shoulders and led him to the sofa.
“If you’re not sleepy, want to watch a movie? I picked out a few good ones.”
Of course Haon wanted to watch a movie with him—but something still tugged at him. Since coming to Seoul, Haon had done nothing but work nonstop. This kind of laid-back, peaceful routine felt foreign to him. He couldn’t relax unless he was doing something.
“Inho-ssi.”
Just before sitting down, Haon turned around and grabbed Inho’s arm.
“Have you eaten yet?”
There was no smell of food in the house whatsoever. Haon thought back to the few slices of fruit and chicken breast Inho had eaten the other day and asked again with a more serious tone.
“What did you eat today?”
He really hoped that wasn’t all Inho had eaten again.
Haon wasn’t really in a position to lecture anyone about meals, but fruit alone was nowhere near enough for a fully grown adult male. Inho was taller and broader than Seong-gu hyung—he needed to eat way more than Haon did. With a bigger build came faster energy consumption, after all.
“I just had whatever was in the house…”
Inho trailed off uncertainly, caught off guard by the sudden question.
Truthfully, all he’d had was some sparkling water. He had planned to eat dinner with Haon, but once he ended up alone, nothing really appealed to him. So he just drank water instead.
“What do you mean, ‘whatever was in the house’?”
Haon pressed, more persistently than usual. The uncharacteristic intensity in his tone made Inho’s expression soften.
“A little bit of this and that. Are you hungry, Haon-ssi? Want me to make you something?”
Inho pointed toward the kitchen, smiling warmly with laughter in his eyes. He hadn’t asked earlier because he assumed Haon still couldn’t eat properly.
“How about some porridge? Sweet potato porridge sounds good, right?”
“No, I’ll cook for you today.”
Haon shook his head and gently pushed Inho toward the sofa, then darted off to the kitchen by himself. When Inho tried to follow, Haon waved him off.
“Don’t come over. Just rest.”
Inho stood frozen by the sofa, thrown off by Haon’s unfamiliar firmness. He didn’t know what to do with himself—until Haon told him again to sit down. At that, he sank into the cushions as if under a spell.
