“…You’re seriously not contacting her behind my back, right?”
Hae-hyun narrowed his eyes at Jae-ha, then muttered with a sulky tone.
“She hasn’t even called me. I thought maybe she was reaching out to you separately.”
His distrust of his sister was sky-high.
“Then why don’t you just call her?”
“All she says is, ‘Still looking into it.’ She’s so damn slow.”
After grumbling, Hae-hyun leaned in with a stern reminder.
“If you ever see my sister when I’m not around, you have to call me right away. Got it? You absolutely cannot meet her alone.”
“Why? Afraid your sister and I will start dating?”
“Sunbae!”
Why was it that every time Jae-ha saw him, he just had to tease him? He’d been about to push the joke further, but at this rate, the kid might actually cry. Forcing down his mischief, Jae-ha raised his chin and answered generously.
“Relax. I’m not interested in your sister. I want to date someone else.”
That made Hae-hyun pause.
“…Someone else? Who?”
“Hmm… guess.”
Even when spoon-fed a hint, Hae-hyun didn’t catch on. It was both cute and frustrating, so Jae-ha deliberately kept circling the answer. Hae-hyun looked bothered but didn’t press any further, just stuffed sushi into his mouth. In less than three minutes, he’d cleared two plates.
Now that was odd.
Why isn’t he asking?
Normally, Hae-hyun would badger him until he gave up an answer. But today—nothing. Had he pushed the teasing too far and made him sulk? Jae-ha studied his face, but the kid only stood up, looking a little pouty.
They had barely left the restaurant when Hae-hyun’s phone rang. Walking side by side, Jae-ha caught the name on the screen—Hae-ryeong.
“Oh, noona.”
His half-hearted response was met with what sounded like a scolding voice on the other end. But Hae-hyun, clearly distracted, brushed her off and quickly hung up.
“Sunbae, I think I need to go.”
“Huh?”
It was so sudden that Jae-ha, who had been about to suggest a movie, was caught off guard. Hae-hyun didn’t even look him in the eye.
“Noona wants to see me for a bit.”
“You want me to come too?”
Maybe it was about the candles. But Hae-hyun immediately shook his head.
“No. You should go home first.”
“…Alright.”
He let him go easily, but unease lingered. Jae-ha found himself staring after him, that round, handsome head never once turning back. Cold kid.
By the time Jae-ha got home alone, the day had gone completely off track, leaving him with too much time.
What’s everyone else doing right now?
He picked up his phone, then put it back down. Hae-hyun might come back early, and he didn’t want to risk missing him.
Guess I’ll just kill time at home.
He sank into the couch, head bumping against something. Turning, he found the snout of a stuffed dog. Looking higher, he saw the stuffed fox and dog he’d won at the arcade, sitting side by side.
Right, I’d forgotten about these.
He picked them up, arms full. They were satisfyingly soft. He stared at the fox. Hae-hyun had said it looked like him, but he couldn’t see it.
Do I really look sly like this? No one’s ever told me that before…
After squishing the fox’s face a few times, he pulled the dog closer. The floppy stuffed dog was soft enough to use as a pillow. He lay his head on it, the plush filling compressing gently, and tapped its head.
“Doesn’t he seem kinda slow to you too?”
He’d been making it so obvious, and yet Hae-hyun was completely clueless. My dog’s such a blockhead. At this rate, unless he spelled it out, the kid would never figure it out. Jae-ha sighed softly.
“This is harder than I thought.”
He’d never struggled this much to date someone. Usually, people interested in him made the first move. If he liked them back, things just happened naturally. They were always sharp enough to catch even the smallest hints. But dating someone this oblivious left him unsure of how much more direct he had to be.
Maybe it was because he was only twenty-one. Or maybe because he’d never dated anyone before. Either way, his cluelessness…
It was strangely endearing. Saying he wanted to wait until he really liked someone, and actually meaning it—that kind of innocence was adorable. With his looks, he must’ve been popular since high school, yet he held back. Admirable, really.
Guess I’ll just have to spell it out. Plain as day. So even a fool like Ju Hae-hyun gets it.
And then—
“Sunbae, sunbae.”
Someone gently shook his shoulder. Blinking awake, he saw Hae-hyun leaning over him. Only then did he notice his phone sprawled between his arms—he must’ve dozed off waiting for him.
“When’d you get here?”
His voice came out rough. It was already past eight.
“Just now. You should sleep in your bed. Why do you keep crashing on the couch? Did you eat dinner?”
Once he confirmed Jae-ha was awake, Hae-hyun straightened up. Jae-ha sluggishly pushed himself upright.
“No, not yet. You?”
“I ate with noona.”
With that, Hae-hyun headed into the kitchen. From the way he started rummaging through the fridge, it was clear he planned to cook.
“It’s fine, I’ll just fix something.”
“You’re not planning on chicken breast again, are you?”
Bull’s-eye. What was wrong with chicken breast? It was healthy. But the way Hae-hyun said it, you’d think it was instant ramen.
“Just wait a bit. I’ll make fried rice.”
He said it offhandedly, already pulling out ingredients and prepping with practiced movements. To Jae-ha, it looked like a chore, but to Hae-hyun, it was nothing. Curious, Jae-ha wandered closer to watch.
“When’d you learn to cook?”
The moment he asked, he remembered asking something similar before. Something about survival, wasn’t it? While he tried to recall, Hae-hyun answered,
“To survive. Noona and hyung’s cooking was terrible.”
Jae-ha didn’t entirely agree with that judgment, but hearing things like this, he could almost understand why Hae-ryeong hit him now and then. Still, since Hae-hyun was good to him, it didn’t matter. Shamelessly, he picked up a carrot.
“Teach me too.”
“Teach you… to cook?”
The sheer disbelief packed into those four words—was his dog a language prodigy? Ignoring it, Jae-ha slid his hand over Hae-hyun’s, the one holding the knife. It ended up like he was almost hugging him from behind.
“You can just help me.”
As he gently closed his hand over his, the skin beneath his palm flinched. Lowering his voice, Jae-ha whispered,
“So, how do you cut it?”
“…Just dice it finely.”
Hae-hyun tugged Jae-ha’s other hand over the carrot, his large palm covering his to shield it from the blade.
“It’s dangerous, so hold it like this.”
Tak, tak. The knife tapped rhythmically, slower than usual. After each cut, he readjusted the carrot and knife. With his arms around him, chin resting on his shoulder, Jae-ha watched the cutting board. Despite the interference, the carrot slices came out neat. Shamelessly, Jae-ha murmured,
“Guess I’ve got some talent, huh?”
That made Hae-hyun laugh softly. The vibration carried through his body, into Jae-ha’s chest.
“You’ve got a long way to go.”
“Yeah? How long till I’m decent?”
“At least ten years.”
“So you’ll teach me for ten years?”
Cheeky as hell. Wait—maybe he’s not clueless. Maybe he’s toying with me. Jae-ha laughed along but kept the thought tucked away. Then came Hae-hyun’s reply.
“If your girlfriend doesn’t teach you, then yeah.”
…Wait. What?
