Go Hoon stared at Bae Jung-yoon, incredulous.
“So now this is all my fault?”
“You’re the one being stubborn for no reason, Hoon.”
Bae Jung-yoon didn’t hesitate in calling his own behavior “pointless stubbornness.” Watching him, Go Hoon let out a dry, disbelieving laugh through his teeth.
“Fine. You’re always right. Now get off me.”
“If I move, you’re just going to run away again.”
“Run away? I’m just going back to where I belong.”
“Really? Then what would you call avoiding someone for no reason, if not running away, Hoon?”
This bastard didn’t have it in him to lose even a single exchange today. Go Hoon glared at him, eyes wide, then lifted both hands in surrender.
“Alright. I’m not leaving. I’m not running. Like you said, I’ll stay here and sleep. Happy now?”
Even this pointless argument was draining. Not to mention, he really wanted to get Bae Jung-yoon—still straddling him in just a bathrobe—off his body.
Might as well sleep. If he’s that desperate to share a bed, fine. Getting comfortable in bed sounded a hell of a lot better than wasting more energy.
But it looked like Jung-yoon still didn’t quite believe his surrender.
“Promise.”
He held out his left hand. Go Hoon let out another scoff. What a meticulous bastard.
“Yeah, yeah. I promise.”
Left with no choice, he hooked his pinky with Jung-yoon’s. Only after sealing the pinky promise did Jung-yoon finally move off of him and settle down beside him.
The weight that had been pressing down on him lifted, and now Jung-yoon lay right next to him. Go Hoon could feel the intensity of his gaze, resting his head on his arm and staring straight at him. It burned against his skin. He forced himself to ignore the sensation and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Good night, Hoon.”
The soft whisper tickled his ear.
“Yeah. You too.”
Go Hoon muttered back and turned his back to Jung-yoon. He shifted cautiously, trying not to put pressure on his bandaged arm and leg.
It was quiet for a while. Then, he sensed Jung-yoon leaving the room. Moments later, the living room lights flicked off. Darkness swallowed the room, and not long after, he felt the faint presence return behind him.
Time passed. Go Hoon slowly opened his eyes.
Today had been one surprise after another. He’d been so exhausted he thought he’d pass out the moment his head hit the pillow, but instead, his eyes were wide open. It must’ve been well over thirty minutes since he got into bed.
He thought he’d never sleep in Jung-yoon’s bed again. Now, the presence behind him felt overwhelmingly vivid. The awareness of someone else lying there kept pulling at his nerves. And yet, behind him—it was perfectly silent.
Go Hoon glanced back. Bae Jung-yoon had fallen asleep in the exact same position, still facing him.
Careful not to disturb the mattress, Go Hoon slowly turned over. It was probably the discomfort of lying on his right side—his injured limbs made it hard to relax.
As he wriggled around trying to find a more comfortable position, he finally stilled, his gaze landing on Jung-yoon’s sleeping face. A faint scar was still visible on his exposed forehead.
It must’ve hurt like hell. Go Hoon reached out toward the mark without realizing, then flinched and clenched his hand into a fist. Wrapped in bandages himself, it felt ridiculous to be worrying about someone else.
“…Look who’s worried about who.”
He muttered under his breath and squeezed his eyes shut again. Darkness returned to his vision, and with it, his mind began to drift. Maybe his struggle to sleep really had just been about posture. Now that he’d turned over, a deep, heavy drowsiness slowly crept in.
As his consciousness faded into haze, Go Hoon let himself be swept into sleep without resistance.
In the silence, where only the sound of slow, steady breathing echoed— some time later, someone quietly opened their eyes.
Moonlight spilled across Jung-yoon’s eyes as he stared. The face in front of him glowed faintly in the silver light. His gaze traced over the lips exhaling gentle breaths, glided up the bridge of the nose, and brushed lightly across the thick eyebrows.
Even in sleep, that face looked razor sharp. Jung-yoon fixed the image in his mind, then let out a soft breath. “How long do you think I’ll wait patiently like this, Hoon?”
His whisper was low and laced with something dark. It was unclear whether the question was directed at Go Hoon—or himself.
How do you shape someone who won’t bend to your will? That had been Bae Jung-yoon’s biggest obsession lately.
His eyes narrowed, thoughts drifting back into memory.
—Jung-yoon… I don’t care how urgent it was. How could you just leave me like that while I was in the bathroom? Do you know how flustered I was?
The annoyed voice came through the phone, thick with pouting. Bae Jung-yoon responded in a sweet, tender tone.
“Sorry. A friend got hurt, and there was no one else to call as an emergency contact. It was a sad situation, and I couldn’t just ignore it.”
But despite the apology, his face showed no emotion. A perfect mask. Completely expressionless.
—Well… I guess there wasn’t much you could do…
The voice on the other end repeated herself again. She was upset. She’d really been looking forward to the movie. How could he just ditch her like that? She’d wanted to see the film together, grab dinner afterward…
The whining continued in an endless stream, and Jung-yoon was starting to get tired of it. He hummed softly, throat vibrating, then cut her off mid-sentence.
“Soo-yeon, I was pretty out of it at the ER, and now that I’m home, I’m just completely wiped. Let’s call it a night and talk later, okay?”
The other end of the line went quiet. She must’ve picked up on it too—the sharp edge in his voice that made it clear he was done with this conversation. Bae Jung-yoon was clearly bored, if not outright irritated.
After a pause, Kang Soo-yeon replied, her tone deflating.
—Okay… Get some rest. But you better take me to that movie next time, alright?
“Yeah. Sure. We’ll go next time.”
With that, he wrapped up the call without much emotion and let the phone fall onto the couch with a soft thud. He pressed his fingertips against his throbbing temple.
He’d known this would be a pain. And still, the moment he heard about Go Hoon, he’d gone straight to him. There hadn’t even been time to think.
All that had filled his head was the need to see for himself that Go Hoon was okay.
He didn’t regret it. What grated on him was Go Hoon’s attitude—his damn stubbornness, insisting right to the end that he didn’t need help.
Luring people in, coaxing them—it had never been hard for Bae Jung-yoon. He knew how to wield his looks, knew how to win people over with ease. He had a gift for making others stand on his side.
But this time was different. Go Hoon wasn’t someone who could be handled so easily.
Maybe it was because the guy had already seen through a side of him others hadn’t. If that was the case, maybe brute force would be more effective than charm.
But… for some reason, he didn’t want to do it that way.
He was fully aware he was investing more effort than usual. And it wasn’t without reason—this was about his cat.
He had no concrete evidence yet—just a gut feeling. But it was growing stronger by the day.
It had all started one early winter morning, when the weather had just begun to turn cold. He’d been lying in bed, wide awake, unable to sleep. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he’d gotten up and gone out for a walk—a habit he didn’t normally have.
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the sleepless nights had begun. They just felt like an ingrained part of life now.
His condition would sometimes improve, only to get worse again. But more often than not, it was the latter. That’s why his nights always seemed longer than anyone else’s.
That night had been no exception. Driven by a sudden impulse, he left the house and wandered the streets with no destination in mind. That’s when he came across the cat.
At first, he hadn’t even realized it was a cat. It just looked like a clump of fur balled up in the corner of the sidewalk. He barely gave it a glance and was about to walk past.
Then he heard it.
Meow—
A tiny, frail cry. It sounded desperate, as if it was trying to let the world know it still existed. The sound stopped him in his tracks.
He turned toward it. His steps were slow and measured, halting after just five paces.
He didn’t go any closer—just looked down at the clump of fur from a distance, curiosity piqued. Then, as if sensing his gaze, the creature slowly opened its eyes.
Bright blue irises stared straight at him. The cat didn’t run.
That alone was strange. Most animals, the moment they locked eyes with him, would bristle and bolt. They sensed something in him and ran.
But this one didn’t. Instead, the cat wobbled to its feet and staggered over, rubbing its cheek against his pant leg.
As if it had been waiting there—waiting endlessly for someone to finally see it.
Bae Jung-yoon slowly knelt down.
“Why are you out here all alone? Where’s your owner?”
He reached out as he spoke. Soft, fine fur slid between his fingers, and underneath that, a warmth hotter than human skin.
The cat purred, pleased by the gentle touch. Then it collapsed onto its side, limp—like a toy with its batteries taken out.
He just stared at it.
He could hear the soft, rhythmic sound of breathing. Its little back rose and fell with each breath.
After silently observing the tiny creature for a while, he scooped it up in his arms. Its body was hot, limp with exhaustion.
And then—he caught a scent.
Alcohol.
There was no mistaking it. The source was clear. The cat cradled in his arms reeked of booze.
