“I can’t answer that, but I can tell you something else.”
“What?”
Haneul looked at Euntae with interest.
“Everyone loves you. Mom and Dad both do.”
“Uncle too?”
“You’re letting me love you too, right?”
Euntae turned his head slightly while the car was stopped and looked at Haneul. The boy puffed out his cheeks and nodded vigorously, “Yeah. Yeah.” He was so honest, so openly craving love—it was heartbreakingly cute.
“Of course, I love you, Haneul.”
Euntae checked the time as he turned his gaze back to the road. It was almost 6 p.m. He hoped Yeojun would call soon.
***
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Haneul, who had been lying on the floor drawing something, suddenly perked up at the sound of the door alarm. Euntae, sitting beside him, looked toward the entrance. Someone was entering the passcode—it had to be Yeojun. Finally, the man they’d been waiting for had arrived. Euntae turned to Haneul, about to say, “Your dad’s here,” but before he could even call his name, Haneul jumped up and dashed into the other room. The door closed with a firm thud, and it was clear he was furious. It was already past 10 p.m.—way too late for their aquarium trip.
“Is Haneul here?”
Yeojun rushed into the living room, looking more frantic than relieved. He seemed out of breath. No parent could bear to keep their only child waiting like this. Euntae nodded toward the closed door—Haneul’s room. Yeojun ran a hand through his hair, looking troubled, before heading straight for it.
“Haneul. Haneul, Dad’s here.”
He didn’t barge in recklessly. Instead, he listened for movement inside. When none came, he finally placed his hand on the doorknob. Fortunately, it wasn’t locked. Haneul was sprawled face-down on the bed, motionless. Yeojun approached slowly, but the boy didn’t stir. Only when Yeojun sat on the bed and gently rubbed his back did Haneul finally react—though he still kept his face buried, his lips pressed tightly together as if holding back tears.
“I’m sorry, Haneul. Dad messed up.”
Yeojun spoke softly, still rubbing Haneul’s back. The boy remained still, but Yeojun kept comforting him, saying how much he’d missed him. Finally, Haneul slowly sat up, though his head stayed bowed. His lips trembled, struggling not to cry.
“I can wait well.”
Haneul’s voice was shaky—he was fighting back tears.
“I can wait patiently. But I keep crying… And if Dad sees me crying, he might not believe me…”
Yeojun and Euntae both listened intently. Yeojun had never told Haneul to wait, nor had he ever tested his ability to do so. So why was he saying this? Before Yeojun could ask, Haneul’s tears finally spilled over. Yeojun simply pulled him into a hug. He’d never explicitly told Haneul to wait, but perhaps the boy had felt it implicitly in their daily lives. The guilt weighed on him.
***
Euntae had been watching from the doorway. He’d stood behind Yeojun as he cautiously opened the door, and now he watched as the two embraced. He didn’t resent the fact that Haneul was sweet to him but cold to Yeojun. If anything, it made Yeojun seem more human—someone who could be vulnerable. Fatherly love might seem natural, but Euntae knew it wasn’t always easy. Seeing Yeojun like this only made him like him more.
“Dad loves you. Mom loves you too.”
“Uncle too?”
“Am I allowed to love you, Haneul?”
Euntae turned his head slightly as the car stopped, looking at Haneul. The boy puffed out his cheeks and nodded vigorously, “Yeah. Yeah.” He was so honest, so openly craving love—it was heartbreakingly cute.
“Of course, I love you, Haneul.”
Euntae checked the time as he turned his gaze back to the road. It was almost 6 p.m. He hoped Yeojun would call soon.
***
Haneul had finally calmed down and fallen back asleep in Yeojun’s arms. But Yeojun, too, had dozed off while comforting him. He woke up after an hour or two and came out to the living room. The clock had passed midnight, and Euntae was sprawled on the sofa like he owned the place.
“You’re still here?”
Yeojun asked, noticing Euntae’s movement. Euntae, who had been lying almost flat, sat up straighter. He felt a little hurt. He’d stayed to keep watch, worried or maybe just wanting to see Yeojun, but the first thing he got was “You’re still here?” It wasn’t that Yeojun didn’t care—he knew he was busy—but the way he said it, like Euntae was some stranger overstaying his welcome, stung. Maybe their feelings weren’t mutual, but still. Still.
“Want me to rub your back too?”
Yeojun finally took off his coat and headed to the kitchen for water, asking casually. Euntae realized he’d been staring and frowned.
“Why? I never asked for a back rub.”
“You look like Haneul did when he was about to cry earlier.”
Euntae had to admit—Yeojun was perceptive. Or maybe Euntae just couldn’t hide his emotions around him. People usually said he was unreadable, but not Yeojun. He saw everything—Euntae’s curiosity, his frustration, his longing.
“Sorry. You’ve been a big help today.”
Yeojun walked over with a glass of water and sat beside Euntae on the sofa. Euntae watched as he took a few sips and set the glass down. The apology felt strange—too distant. It wasn’t that Yeojun was thoughtless; he just wasn’t the type to dwell on trivial things. He’d kept Euntae updated on his delays, and Euntae had told him to focus on work. But hearing him call it a “favor” now made it feel like they were strangers.
“Just sorry with words?”
“What?”
Yeojun turned to look at him. Euntae never missed an opportunity, no matter how small.
“If you’re sorry, kiss me.”
He said it deadpan. Yeojun hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden demand. Euntae pressed closer, not giving him time to refuse.
“You’re not getting off that easy. A kiss is a small price for what I’ve done.”
“…Is a kiss really that serious to you?”
Technically, Euntae had offered to help. But still—how could Yeojun act like this was some great imposition? Unless… unless he was holding back for another reason. The thought stung.
“Are you saying kissing me is that big a deal?”
Euntae scooted even closer, and Yeojun instinctively leaned back.
“You and I—it’s not like that. Kissing itself isn’t exactly light.”
“Oh, really? Then what about when you were all over me before? Were you just playing with me?”
Euntae knew they weren’t in a relationship, but Yeojun’s hesitation now felt like a slap in the face. If anything, Yeojun had been the one led on.
“Cut the crap.”
Yeojun’s cold voice made Euntae straighten up, hands neatly folded in his lap. But he didn’t stay still for long. After a moment of hesitation, he lunged, cupping Yeojun’s face and pressing their lips together. He expected to be shoved away, but Yeojun didn’t move. No resistance, no disgust—just silence. Euntae couldn’t tell if this was good or bad. But he didn’t want to overthink it. He leaned in again, savoring the moment.
Yeojun still didn’t react. Euntae took that as silent permission and deepened the kiss. Was this a reward for his patience? He didn’t care. All that mattered was that Yeojun wasn’t stopping him, and Euntae wasn’t about to waste this chance.
“I wasn’t the only one waiting.”
It was true. Haneul wasn’t the only one who had been looking forward to today. Euntae, at twenty-six, wasn’t some wide-eyed kid, and an aquarium wasn’t exactly thrilling to him. But he’d been excited—because it felt like a date. Not a real one, not just the two of them, but still. Haneul was part of Yeojun, and in a way, that made it even better. He’d been looking forward to it. And now, with everything falling apart, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
“That’s why I’m letting you.”
They were still close—lips parted, but breath mingling. Euntae stared at Yeojun’s infuriating lips, ready to pounce again at any moment. Infuriating. Really infuriating. Because it felt like Yeojun was only allowing this out of guilt, not affection. If it were affection, Euntae would take it gladly. But he knew better than to expect that. Still, he wasn’t about to complain. Just being able to touch him like this was enough. For now.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
