d to turn away. The timing worked in Yeojun’s favor, sparing him further exhaustion.
At first glance, it might seem like Yeojun had won, but he didn’t see it that way. He had just snapped back, but the stone Seungju had thrown had already hit him. And the fact that Seungju was flaunting his superiority in front of Yeojun made him uncomfortable. No matter how much he told himself that hierarchy didn’t matter, the difference between a lead and a supporting actor was real. Yeojun, who had once stood in the spotlight, knew better than anyone the weight of that difference.
“Hello?”
His mood was sinking, so he stopped packing to sit down and catch his breath. His phone rang, and without checking who it was, he answered.
“Hyung, where are you?”
The timing was almost too perfect. It was Euntae.
“Where do you think I am?”
The words came out half-glad, half-annoyed.
“I’m coming to pick you up.”
Yeojun couldn’t respond. Euntae’s usual voice, saying the usual things, felt like a push in the back. I won’t be moved. I won’t get emotional. I won’t waver.
“No, don’t come.”
When had he last acted so childish? Euntae didn’t back down and asked again where he was. Euntae’s stubborn persistence made the twenty-six-year-old act spoiled in front of the thirty-five-year-old.
“I’ll be there soon.”
Yeojun looked at him. He couldn’t see Euntae’s face while driving, but he could tell Euntae’s lips were twitching into a smile. Should he tell him not to misunderstand? Or that he hadn’t meant it that way? He hesitated for a moment.
“Let’s go eat with Haneul.”
And Yeojun chose to avoid the question entirely.
***
“I’m in no position to badmouth anyone.”
As they rode the apartment elevator together, Yeojun spoke. Euntae smiled and pressed the floor button. The “anyone” Yeojun was referring to was Gyeonhui. Just a little while ago, he had been complaining about how Gyeonhui had worked Euntae to the bone without even feeding him, but now he realized he himself hadn’t fed Euntae either. Euntae didn’t mind, but Yeojun seemed bothered. When they went to pick up Haneul, the menu and place had already been decided, but when they arrived at the daycare, Haneul was asleep. They couldn’t bring themselves to wake the peacefully sleeping child, so they ended up carrying him home as he slept.
“He looks like an angel when he’s asleep. No wonder he’s Seo Yeojun’s son.”
Euntae looked at Haneul’s face, resting on Yeojun’s back, and spoke. Yeojun wondered if he was being complimented or if the “when he’s asleep” part was a dig.
“What do you mean?”
Yeojun, as always, couldn’t let it go and asked immediately. Euntae’s gaze shifted from Haneul to Yeojun.
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t.”
“Hyung, you look like an angel when you’re asleep too. When you’re awake, you’re just…”
Euntae had been about to say “a pain in the ass,” but feeling Yeojun’s gaze, he quickly shut his mouth. Yeojun asked “Ji… what?” several times, but Euntae refused to say another word. Everyone valued their life, and now that they were at Yeojun’s front door, he didn’t want to get kicked out. After a few more attempts at pressing him, the elevator reached the 15th floor, and the doors opened. Euntae quickly stepped out and held the door open so Yeojun could exit safely. Only then did Yeojun stop his interrogation.
“Just go home now.”
After laying Haneul in his bed, Yeojun returned to the living room and saw Euntae unpacking his bag on the table. But Euntae didn’t stop what he was doing.
“What? You said you’re in no position to badmouth anyone, and now you’re kicking me out without feeding me?”
“You know there’s barely any food in this house. So I’m sending you home early to eat dinner.”
“No. I’m not going.”
“Why not?”
“Because you haven’t eaten either. I know there’s no food here, so how can I just leave?”
Adding “And you’re a manager,” Euntae looked at Yeojun. Hearing Euntae’s words, Yeojun realized he was a little hungry himself. Even though he was just a supporting actor, he had been preparing for the profile shoot since yesterday and hadn’t eaten anything except water. The stress must have been worse than he thought. He had tried to act calm and composed, but running into Seungju and his constant provocation had been stressful. He had been so tense that he had even forgotten his hunger.
“Can you wait a little? I’ll go buy some lunchboxes.”
Euntae turned back to his bag and continued what he was doing as he asked. His voice, his words—were they just kind? No, they were too kind. Euntae had always been good to him. Playful at times, but ultimately a good manager and a good younger brother who always adjusted to Yeojun’s needs. But today, that kindness felt strangely affectionate. The word “affectionate” wouldn’t come out, so he replaced it with “kind,” wondering if the perceptive Euntae would notice. Euntae’s hands stopped. Yeojun hesitated for a moment, and in that pause, Euntae stood up.
“I want to be good to you. And I’ve always been like this. I’ve always tried hard for you.”
It was unclear what or for whom he was trying so hard. But Yeojun couldn’t ask. There was no time. Euntae stepped forward and cupped Yeojun’s face with both hands, pressing their lips together. Yeojun tried to pull back, but Euntae followed, leaving him no room to escape. He knew he couldn’t run away. He didn’t even want to push him away or escape. A kiss wasn’t such a big deal between them. When their lips parted and the warm, breath-filled flesh pushed in, he couldn’t help but tense up, but that tension soon melted away. Yeojun’s hands gripped Euntae’s arms, and the hands holding his face tightened. The warmth that had gently entered him quickly turned scorching as it tangled inside. Thump, thump, thump. His heart raced. The surprise that had started the pounding gradually turned into a ticklish flutter.
“By the time you think it’s too late, it already is.”
After Gyeonhui had finished bragging about his boyfriend, those were his final words. So you don’t even know how it started or how it ends. You just can’t help but like them.
Euntae wondered if he, too, was a little late.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
