“It’s not like that.”
“Then what exactly is the problem?”
What was the problem?
“…Me.”
He himself was the problem. Everything else was the same as always—only he alone was the problem.
Seok-ho was completely fine. He felt nothing. The problem was Kang-woo, who was fretting over that day all by himself.
Right. To be honest, if he laid everything out plainly—he hated him. He hated the fact that Seok-ho had kissed him, made him misunderstand, and yet didn’t remember a single thing from that night. He resented him for planting such an unforgettable, intense memory in him, only to live on as if it were nothing, having completely forgotten it.
“I’m just the problem.”
But even setting all that aside, the biggest problem was himself. He could’ve simply treated it as if it had never happened. Yet here he was, turning it over and over in his mind—feeling fluttering excitement, then resentment.
At the vague answer, Seok-ho furrowed his brows. As if tired of the sluggish back-and-forth, he rubbed the corner of his eye with his thumb. Hearing the deep sigh that escaped him, Kang-woo suddenly felt a surge of emotion rise in his chest.
“Hyung, do you know that you kissed me?”
At the impulsive question, Seok-ho’s hand stopped in midair.
“…What?”
“Hyung, do you know that you kissed me that day when you were drunk?”
As if delivering the final confirmation, Kang-woo repeated the fact in a dry voice.
Seok-ho’s expression slowly hardened. The thought that it was impossible never even crossed his mind.
Because at that moment, a vivid memory suddenly pierced through his head.
The shining eyes he’d faced in the darkness. The sensation of grabbing Kim Kang-woo when he tried to push him away, forcing his tongue into that narrow mouth—it all came rushing back with startling clarity. Along with the pleasant scent that had lingered from him.
“Ha… fuck…”
Seok-ho exhaled a suppressed breath and cursed under his breath. He had no idea what kind of state of mind had led him to do something like that.
One thing was certain—the alcohol was the problem.
No. He himself had been too careless.
He had done something idiotic—coming home drunk while living under the same roof as the person he lusted after. Even while clinging to his reason, it had taken everything he had to suppress those feelings. And yet he had come back completely intoxicated, not knowing what kind of mistake he might commit.
Only then did he understand why Kim Kang-woo had been avoiding him all this time.
After something like that happened, it would’ve been impossible to keep living normally right beside him.
His fist clenched tightly. Anger surged toward himself. Kang-woo quietly watched Seok-ho, who stood there with a twisted expression and clenched teeth.
“Crazy bastard.”
Seok-ho muttered another curse.
It was the first time Kang-woo had ever seen him swear. That alone showed how flustered he was.
“Kim Kang-woo, that—”
Before Seok-ho could continue, Kang-woo hurriedly added,
“I know. Hyung, it was a mistake.”
He knew. Seok-ho hadn’t kissed him because he wanted to.
“….”
Just as expected, Seok-ho neither denied nor affirmed it. He only stared at Kang-woo with a complicated expression. It looked like he had something to say but was forcing himself to swallow the words instead.
Unable to endure that unreadable gaze any longer, Kang-woo pressed his lips together tightly. After a brief silence, he steeled himself.
“But for me, it wasn’t a mistake.”
For him, it absolutely wasn’t a mistake. And because of that, he would never regret kissing him.
“…What do you mean by that?”
Seok-ho asked, his thick brows knitting together. Kang-woo wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs and moistened his dry lips.
“When you kissed me, I didn’t reject you. So for me, it was never a mistake.”
Even if this ended up ruining his relationship with Seok-ho, it couldn’t be helped. The feelings he’d been holding alone had already grown too large. Rather than staying stuck in an ambiguous position while hiding his emotions, it was better to confess honestly—even if it meant drifting apart completely.
Thump. Thump.
The sound of his pounding heart echoed in his ears.
In contrast to the chaos inside him, a heavy silence fell between them. Seok-ho’s gaze on Kang-woo gradually sank as well.
“If it wasn’t a mistake, then what was it?”
His voice was lower than before.
Kang-woo stared straight at Seok-ho. In that instant, countless emotions boiled up inside him.
“I like you, hyung.”
The confession slipped from Kang-woo’s lips calmly, as if he were merely talking about something ordinary.
At the same time, the line of Seok-ho’s mouth hardened even further. His cold eyes blinked slowly. With a face that revealed absolutely nothing about what he was thinking, Seok-ho stared at Kang-woo.
“…What?”
Only after a long moment did the question come back. His voice had turned completely cold.
Kang-woo didn’t dare meet his eyes directly. He had no idea what kind of response—or what kind of reproach—would follow. So instead of looking at Seok-ho, he fixed his gaze on his own hands and continued speaking calmly.
“The reason I’ve been avoiding you… was because I felt like I wouldn’t be able to control my feelings when I saw you. Even though you kissed me, I know that wasn’t meant for me. You probably mistook me for someone else. And that made me unbearably jealous… so I just acted childish.”
The truth was, aside from liking Seok-ho, he had been afraid that if Seok-ho learned about his feelings, he might get kicked out of the house.
Even though it felt pathetic to weigh something like that even in front of love, it couldn’t be helped. That was the situation he was in.
Even if Seok-ho told him to leave the house right now, he wouldn’t have anything to say. He believed it would be the proper consequence of confessing feelings for someone who had only shown him kindness. He had dared to develop affection for someone he should never have been greedy for—someone he knew that all too well.
Although modern society was more accepting of same-sex love compared to the past, there were still people who couldn’t accept it.
So after hearing Kang-woo’s confession, Seok-ho might feel repulsed.
Beyond all that, confession meant placing part of your emotions onto the other person’s shoulders. Whether they wanted it or not, once someone learned another person’s feelings, they inevitably became conscious of them—even if that person hadn’t mattered to them before.
Even taking all of that into account, the reason Kang-woo confessed like this was simple.
He couldn’t endure it anymore.
He couldn’t keep carrying this swelling emotion alone while pretending nothing was wrong beside him. If this meant he had to leave Seok-ho’s side, then that too couldn’t be helped.
He would accept it quietly and leave.
Love wasn’t something you could beg for.
When Kang-woo fell silent, a heavy stillness settled over the table. That short stretch of time felt like the moment a criminal waited for a judge’s verdict.
Kang-woo expected that Seok-ho would soon tell him to leave. Or that he would say he didn’t like him. But the situation flowed in a completely unexpected direction.
“You’re mistaken because you’re still young.”
After a long silence, that was Seok-ho’s answer.
Mistaken.
Kang-woo frowned, doubting his own ears.
“…A mistake?”
“Yeah. It’s a mistake.”
The answer came back firmly. But Kang-woo couldn’t accept it. It made no sense.
“What kind of mistake do you think I’m making?”
Hearing the disbelief in Kang-woo’s voice, Seok-ho let out a low sigh.
“What you’re feeling is just attachment to a guardian. Something like admiration toward an adult who takes care of you. You’re confusing that with liking someone.”
As Kang-woo listened to him continue, his expression slowly sank.
“And because I accidentally kissed you while drunk, that confusion got worse. I’m sorry. I’ve never done something like that when drinking before… but I think I made a big mistake this time. It won’t happen again. So you should just forget it too. Let’s just pretend nothing happened and go back to how we were before—like hyung and dongsaeng. We can do that, can’t we?”
Kang-woo slowly shook his head.
No. That wasn’t possible.
Pretend nothing happened and go back to how things were before? Did Seok-ho really think that was possible?
Even now, at this very moment, his feelings were this clear.
His emotions weren’t a mistake. They weren’t an illusion. His heart pounded wildly just from looking at him. Yet Seok-ho, who didn’t even know how much Kang-woo liked him or how serious his feelings were, was making assumptions and deciding everything on his own.
And Kang-woo hated that.
“No. Hyung, I’m not so young that I’d confuse feelings like this.”
Kang-woo protested, feeling wronged.
“No. You are.”
But Seok-ho responded just as firmly.
“Kim Kang-woo, you’re still young.”
He emphasized Kang-woo’s youth once more.
Kang-woo’s eyes twisted with emotion. He hadn’t expected the price of his confession to feel this empty and miserable.
This hurt more than a blunt rejection. To have your feelings not even acknowledged by the person you loved.
Staring at Seok-ho with wounded eyes, Kang-woo whispered,
“That’s harsh, hyung. You could’ve just said you don’t like me.”
Instead of using his youth as an excuse, he could’ve simply said his heart didn’t turn toward him. If he had said that, it would’ve been easier for Kang-woo to give up.
Cruelly, Seok-ho didn’t even acknowledge Kang-woo’s feelings at all.
He flatly denied them.
That what you’re feeling is definitely not love.
A bitter smile formed on Kang-woo’s lips as he looked at Seok-ho with resentment. But the solid wall in front of him didn’t crumble. If anything, Seok-ho only built the wall higher and stronger.
“I think you’re misunderstanding something. I’m not as good a person as you think I am. Get a hold of yourself, Kim Kang-woo.”
In a cold voice, Seok-ho urged him to face reality.
“Meet someone who suits you. Someone young and kind like you. Someone who can accept you completely. I’m not that kind of person. I can’t be the person you want.”
His gaze as he looked at Kang-woo was just as sharp.
Kang-woo quietly stared back at him, then shook his head.
“You’re the best person I know, hyung.”
To Kang-woo, that was the truth.
No matter how Seok-ho evaluated himself, the fact that he was a good person didn’t change. Kang-woo didn’t doubt that for even a moment.
Not even now, when Seok-ho was judging his feelings and speaking harshly.
“You’re the one who took me in when I ran away from home and had nowhere to go. You’re the only person who appeared in front of me and comforted me when I was trembling with fear. Whenever I felt bad or whenever I felt good, you were always the one quietly staying by my side.”
Kang-woo continued, meeting Seok-ho’s eyes.
“So if someone like you says you’re not a good person… then there’s no one in this world I can trust.”
His chest ached. What would have happened if he had just been born a little earlier?
If he had grown up in a normal environment and met Seok-ho as a proper adult instead of in a situation like this—would anything have been different?
Even now, he knew it was foolish to hope for such an impossible what if.
As if scolding him for those thoughts, Seok-ho’s gaze remained just as rigid as before. Just like his tightly sealed lips.
“I’ll go to my room first, hyung.”
Kang-woo spoke in a whisper as he stood up from his seat.
“Good night.”
Then he walked past Seok-ho and went straight into his room.
Even as Kang-woo’s bedroom door closed, Seok-ho remained frozen in place. He couldn’t move.
“…Haah.”
Only after a long while did a heavy breath finally force its way out between his lips. Resting his elbows on the table, Seok-ho covered his face with both hands.
