The muggy, sticky air that had hung in the car faded the moment they reached the department store, as if it had never been there. It helped that the thrill of their very first date as lovers had only gotten bigger.
“Humanity must have started naming certain acts so that those acts would feel special.”
If he just turned Se-min’s headshot black-and-white and stuck it next to the line, wouldn’t it pass for a famous philosopher’s quote?
With a single date, Se-min had been swept up in a philosophical sort of romance. He kept a tight rein on the corners of his mouth that kept wanting to lift and asked, trying to sound casual, “What should we do first?”
“Let’s eat. After we eat, we can start from the top and work our way down while we look around.”
“Great!”
Truth be told, eating together, shopping, and browsing fun or pretty things were things he’d already been doing with Cha-hyeon. Whenever Hyung had a day off and they went out, that was usually the course of events.
But once the word “date” got slapped on it, everything felt soft and ticklish. Even on normal days, when he went out with Hyung, there were always eyes pretending not to stare but clinging anyway; today those looks felt like they were asking, “You two are on a date, huh?”
After going all-in with a live public confession and suddenly becoming the couple the whole nation was cheering for, that guess was probably right. Still, even back when they weren’t lovers, those stares had followed them—so why did it feel extra embarrassingly sweet today? Every time the backs of their hands brushed as they walked, Se-min’s heart fluttered harder.
Thanks to that, by the time they reached the basement food court under countless gazes, Se-min felt floaty, like he’d taken cold medicine. Watching him wobble, drunk on excitement, Cha-hyeon asked, “Is there something you’re craving?”
“Something I’m craving?”
“Pork cutlet” flashed through his head, but it never made it to his lips. The reason he didn’t just rattle off default options like spicy pork, pork cutlet, or rice soup—as if auto-filled—was, surprisingly, because he was drunk on the thrill of their first date.
If I say I want pork cutlet, will I look like a kid? It was a thought he’d literally never had in his life.
But then a memory surged up—his grandmother promising to buy him pork cutlet if he went to the hospital without a fuss. Once the association clicked, pork cutlet felt… off. And this was their first date; pork cutlet was something they could eat any old time.
Se-min’s gaze swept the eateries. What would look decent, taste good, and be something both he and Hyung liked?
Just then, he spotted a sushi place. It was something both he and Cha-hyeon liked—easy to pick up with chopsticks, low risk of spills, perfect for nibbling one by one and chatting in between. He was just about to suggest sushi when—
…Would we, by any chance, end up kissing today?
A brazen little horny devil popped in.
No, in his defense, Se-min had a point. They were dating, they’d already gone all the way, and if they found each other beautiful on their date, of course they could kiss—and if they were alone, they could do more than kiss.
Like… holding it in the whole date, fooling around with their hands in the car, and the moment they got home, going up in flames. No—sparks flying right there in the car….
Ever since his unrequited love had declared a vow of premarital chastity, he’d absorbed all sorts of information; now his head spun. A prickly ache tugged low in his belly.
In that case, sushi didn’t seem great. Wouldn’t the raw-fish smell linger? Suddenly queasy and feeling like the mood had popped, he grimaced—ugh—and glanced elsewhere.
“Nothing calling to you?”
“Ah, it’s not that… I’m thinking hard.”
His lips moved soundlessly before he managed an awkward smile. He really was thinking hard (about food that’d be fine even if they had sudden skinship or their eyes met and sparks flew). He finally understood why drama leads always went out for steak.
“Thinking hard, huh?”
Amused, echoing him, Cha-hyeon ignored the people sneaking peeks at them and studied the basement food court map. Spotting something, he asked, “Then how about mala xiang guo? Kids these days love that stuff.”
Worst possible choice. Determined not to conjure up numb, spicy sensations, Se-min pulled a face and offered a second-best option.
“…How about shabu-shabu?”
An excellent pick.
It wasn’t something he’d usually go out of his way to eat, though he’d eat it if someone else wanted it; but today it felt like a truly stellar choice.
After a satisfying meal, he excused himself to the restroom and even used the mouthwash provided there, coming back with a much fresher step.
With iced Americanos for dessert, there was nothing left to fear. Seeing that faintly proud look on Se-min’s face, Cha-hyeon let out a short laugh—pfft—and tapped his rounded cheek.
“…Uh…”
It felt like every nerve ended where those firm fingertips pressed into his cheek. From the spot where Cha-hyeon’s hand had touched, a ticklish heat spread outward.
A tiny motion, and his heart lurched. Not wanting his tension to show, Se-min asked, feigning nonchalance, “Why? Something you want to say, Hyung…?”
“No reason. You smelled like mint.”
In an instant, the space that had been full of human noise seemed to go quiet. The bustling crowd turned into mere background. As if only the two of them—Cha-hyeon and himself—were left in the world, a fierce pounding, born of some emotion he couldn’t name—fear or thrill—made his heart ache.
The way Hyung looked down at him; those black eyes where pupil and iris were hard to tell apart; the face of the lover he’d pined for so long; the faint scent of cologne; and the mint lingering in his mouth.
“Shall we go?”
The surrounding noise filtered back in only after he heard Hyung’s voice. Staring up at him with a dazed face, Se-min flushed.
“Ah, uh, yeah… L-let’s go.”
Once he snapped out of it, his movements turned visibly creaky. Was he being way too shy over a single cheek poke? Was it too obvious he’d wanted to kiss? The belated embarrassment made his scalp tingle to the roots.
They were on the escalator up from the basement to the ground floor when it happened. A strangely unsettled, crowded mood snagged Se-min’s attention. Sensing something off, he craned his neck to peek around.
“What is it…?”
Gazing casually toward the central fountain, Cha-hyeon answered, “Looks like a rift popped up.”
At his words, looking closely, Se-min saw the Center’s blue line strung up in the distance. He let out a regretful sigh.
“Ah, what should we do?”
These days, once a rift’s grade was checked, if suppression failed they only controlled the area that would be affected, so there was no need to evacuate immediately.
Evacuating a mass of people safely all at once wasn’t easy; plus, as years passed and people got used to Dungeon Gates, they filed complaints—“Isn’t this level fine?” “Why make a fuss when keeping our distance is enough?”—which was another reason.
Sure enough, even with a rift right in the middle of the central fountain, the department store wasn’t in an uproar. Rather than panicking, people sneaked glances at the cordoned-off zone and watched the Esper team handle the rift.
Which was why the one Se-min worried about was Hyung.
“Should we go somewhere else?”
“Do we have to?”
Taking a sip of his iced Americano, Cha-hyeon answered. Worried others might hear, Se-min lowered his voice.
“If they fail to suppress it and it turns into a Gate, I wondered if it would weigh on you, Hyung.”
When a rift was reported, the Gate site management team measured its grade and dispatched an Esper team according to its risk. If it ended as a rift, great; if suppression failed and it turned into a Gate, they measured again.
Usually a Gate matched the rift’s grade, so the dispatched Esper team would go in or request a few more people. But there were exceptions.
If it had to be solo-cleared as a high-grade Dungeon, or if it morphed into a Dungeon higher than the dispatched team’s level, they’d call in Espers suited to that grade.
Every citizen in Korea knew this, but the Center was still a workplace where people gathered, and workplace culture existed.
While other Espers were working themselves to the bone to attack a Gate, how could people in the same line of work not even show their faces? Couldn’t they at least ask whether extra support was needed? No one said it outright, but there was enough backbiting.
Because of that atmosphere, when a nearby rift appeared, Korean Espers would either quietly vacate before it turned into a Gate, or they’d go up to the Gate site management team, say their hellos, and do the polite thing: ask if additional support was needed.
Someone like Cha-hyeon probably wouldn’t care much about that Association mood, but Se-min hated the thought of Hyung being talked about. All the more so given how oddly poor Hyung’s reputation was.
But Cha-hyeon only snorted.
“Do I strike you as the type to care about that, Se-min?”
…Probably not. The tip of his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, but still, because he couldn’t help it, Se-min muttered timidly, “It’s our first date today… I’m the one who’s bothered….”
At a time when they could barely spare enough attention for each other, he didn’t want to worry about Hyung catching stray comments. As his voice trailed off, he rubbed his earlobe, embarrassed. A small laugh puffed from Hyung’s nose.
“Right? It’s our first date.”
In a voice as quiet as Se-min’s, Cha-hyeon whispered. Lowering his head toward Se-min, whose cheeks were flushed bright red, he asked, almost in a murmur, “Want to go out… and take a walk by the Han River?”
A walk? The weather wasn’t too hot or too cold—perfect for it. Like he was sharing a secret, Se-min nodded where only Hyung could see. A soft chuckle followed.
“Or we could go to the hotel lounge bar next door, look out over the Han, and have some wine. The sun’s down now.”
“…Wine? But we brought the car. We’d have to call a driver…”
Mid-whisper, Se-min’s lips pressed shut. From the way Hyung arched an eyebrow, he guessed what he meant. With cheeks and ears gone rosy, he clamped his mouth closed.
“We could just stay over. It’s a hotel.”
In a low, intimate voice, Hyung confirmed that Se-min’s imagination had been right. His heart, already thumping, began to beat a little faster.
Sharing secret, lovers’ talk in the middle of a crowd made the soft arches of his soles itch. Se-min swallowed hard.
