He had barely stood in front of the kitchen counter when Hae-hyun whipped up a steaming bowl of udon with thick, plump noodles. Even the fried tofu was neatly placed on top, making it look mouthwatering.
“Thanks for the food.”
“You’re welcome~”
Instead of heading off to do something else, Hae-hyun sat down across from Jae-ha, who had just picked up his chopsticks. Bored? The thought had barely crossed his mind when Hae-hyun asked,
“Is it good?”
“I haven’t tried it yet.”
“Hurry and eat it.”
He looked absolutely starved for praise. Jae-ha obediently picked up a mouthful of udon and took a bite. The chewy, thick noodles filled his mouth satisfyingly. The compliment came out naturally.
“How do you make something this good?”
“It’s really easy.”
Despite the modest answer, his eyes sparkled. Seeing the chef look so satisfied with just a bit of praise made Jae-ha smile inwardly. Though Hae-hyun’s sharp features often gave him a stern look, he occasionally showed this unexpectedly adorable side.
“What’s your favorite food, Sunbae?”
“I’m not really picky.”
Hae-hyun seemed to live off of curiosity. He had endless questions, most of them about Jae-ha. The stream of inquiries felt like it could fill his large frame, but Jae-ha, used to being the center of people’s attention, answered them all without much thought. None of them were particularly difficult anyway.
Before he knew it, his bowl was empty. As he set it down in the sink and turned on the faucet, Hae-hyun came up beside him.
“I’ll do it.”
“It’s fine. You’re the guest—just sit back.”
He waved Hae-hyun off and blocked him with his body to keep him from coming closer. But Hae-hyun stepped in behind him and gently rested his chin on Jae-ha’s shoulder. It wasn’t heavy, but every time Jae-ha moved his arm to scrub a dish, he felt the presence.
If Hae-hyun were a woman, this would be the kind of gesture easy to misinterpret—it was that close. At first, he had only clung to Jae-ha while asleep, but at some point, he started lying down with his head in Jae-ha’s lap even when awake. Now, he was doing things like this without hesitation. Maybe it was because they lived together, but they had grown close quickly. It was still a little puzzling, but at this point, pushing him away would feel more awkward. It wasn’t burdensome enough to protest.
“There’s still soap there. And there. You have to wash the bottom too, properly.”
It felt a bit like playing with a young nephew. Jae-ha tilted his head and gently pressed down on Hae-hyun’s chatty head. The nonstop voice fell silent. Like praising a well-behaved puppy, Jae-ha asked,
“So how does this purification thing work? Is there anything I need to do?”
Though Hae-hyun had offered to help, he didn’t seem to be doing anything beyond staying at Jae-ha’s place. Was it really enough just to sleep and absorb energy naturally? Shouldn’t there be talismans or something involved? Jae-ha tried to recall what little he knew, but then Hae-hyun chuckled. Jae-ha could feel the vibration of his laugh against his back.
“Do I seem suspicious? Like I’m trying to scam you?”
“I don’t think it’s a scam.”
The fact that he could sleep properly now was proof enough. Still, for someone like Jae-ha, who lived in a scientifically grounded world, abstract concepts like curses and energy weren’t easy to grasp.
At his vague reply, Hae-hyun let out a playful hum. Then, a large hand reached out past Jae-ha’s arm.
“I’ll show you.”
As he spoke, golden mist began to rise from his long fingers. A strange whisper in an unknown language brushed Jae-ha’s ear, and the golden mist floated along an unnatural path toward the soap bubbles clinging to the dishes.
The fluffy bubbles slowly lifted into the air.
“…Did you do that?”
It was nothing like bubbles accidentally drifting on the breeze. Jae-ha stared at the floating bubbles with wide eyes. The surreal sight was happening right in front of him, like something out of a movie.
“How did you do that?”
“It’s called a spell.”
Curses, Haetae, now spells—was he going to end up fighting dark forces next? Maybe even face a final boss? While Jae-ha was caught up in ridiculous game-like thoughts, Hae-hyun leaned in and whispered proudly,
“That’s pure energy right there. I’ll take care of everything, so all you need to do is sit back and relax. You might not realize it yet, but you’re seriously lucky. I’m actually a really good spellcaster. I’m better than my mom and dad.”
It was such a childish boast that instead of annoying him, it came across as endearing. Jae-ha reached out and caught one of the floating bubbles. The soft foam popped the moment he applied pressure. Maybe it was just his imagination, but it felt oddly refreshing.
He had just witnessed real magic—at this point, denying it was no longer an option.
“Thanks to you, that’s one less thing to worry about.”
At Jae-ha’s exaggerated murmur, Hae-hyun chuckled and lowered his arms, then quickly shifted the conversation back to him.
“So what did you usually do for lunch?”
Since it wasn’t framed as nagging, Jae-ha answered generously.
“I grabbed a bite with a classmate.”
“Who?”
“Yoo Ji-hyang. She’s the top student in our department.”
By then, the dishes were done. As Jae-ha peeled off the rubber gloves and turned around, Hae-hyun, who had been right behind him, subtly stepped aside to clear the way—then naturally followed him into the living room.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“What?”
Only then did Jae-ha turn around to face him. When Hae-hyun didn’t get a straight answer, he pressed again.
“Is she really your girlfriend?”
What, is there a fake girlfriend too…? Jae-ha almost said it but managed to hold back like the adult he was.
“No.”
“Oh, really?”
Hae-hyun’s eyes curved in a faint smile. Not catching the expression, Jae-ha continued,
“Don’t you start too. Why is everyone so desperate to link me with her?”
Ji-hyang was a fellow student. From the start of freshman year, she stood out as a sharp, bright student. Then one day, she suddenly took a break to study for certifications, saying she wanted to try something different—and she actually passed several accounting-related exams.
But as she kept studying, she realized the field wasn’t for her. So she basically tossed the certificates aside and came back to school, jumping right back into student life and reclaiming her spot at the top of the class. Her relentless discipline earned her the nickname “Poison Spirit Yoo Ji-hyang.” Within the business department, it was widely believed no one would top her grades until she graduated.
That happened to be around the same time Jae-ha came back to school after his own break—one he had taken under the excuse of “finding himself,” which mostly involved wandering around until his mom dragged him back by the collar. Despite their completely different personalities, they ended up in a few classes together and unexpectedly hit it off. From the following semester, they even coordinated their schedules to grab meals together.
They hung out so often that misunderstandings like Hae-hyun’s weren’t unusual. But dating Ji-hyang? There wasn’t even a flicker of romantic tension between them. Not that he wanted there to be.
“You two must be close.”
“She’s probably my closest friend at school.”
There were no feelings involved, but they got along well, shared similar values, and had matching food preferences, which made picking places to eat easy. She was also the type to prioritize studying, so she never expected constant attention, which suited Jae-ha just fine.
“I go to the same school, too.”
“…And?”
“So where do I rank on your friends list?”
“What kind of question is that?”
Even when Jae-ha gave him a look, Hae-hyun just blinked up at him innocently, like he didn’t see what was wrong with the question. What was he even supposed to say to that? When Jae-ha stayed silent, Hae-hyun leaned his full weight against him like a kid demanding an answer. With over 190 centimeters of muscle pressing down from behind, Jae-ha’s back instinctively bent.
“Hey, you’re heavy.”
“Just tell me—where do I rank?”
Hae-hyun had a quietly bratty side. When something didn’t go his way, he got sulky or downright petty. He might’ve been huge, but he acted more like a clingy seven-year-old.
“Four hundred and thirty-eighth.”
“Four hun…?”
Hae-hyun looked genuinely stunned. He actually seemed to believe it.
“Seriously? You have that many?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sociable.”
Which, to be fair, wasn’t a lie.
“Why do you have so many friends, Sunbae?”
“You look like you’d have a lot too.”
From an objective standpoint, it was hard to believe someone like Hae-hyun wasn’t popular. Just the fact that he was lounging around in someone else’s home like it was his own said a lot. He was good-looking, tall, well-built, and decently dressed. That alone earned him plenty of points. And personality-wise… well, if nothing else, his behavior was exactly what you’d expect from a doting younger brother.
It had been obvious from the way he clung to Jae-ha in his sleep—Hae-hyun was naturally affectionate. Whenever Jae-ha spoke, he would instinctively move closer. During conversations, he tilted his head, offered bites of his cooking without hesitation, and casually fixed Jae-ha’s crooked collar or sleeves.
Jae-ha had only seen Hae-hyun in a home setting, but it didn’t feel like he was acting this way just around him. As the saying goes, “You can tell who’s used to eating meat.” There was no stiffness or hesitation in his gestures—none of the tension that usually came with unfamiliar physical contact.
And then there was the fact that he followed Jae-ha home out of concern the first time they met, and kept insisting on helping even when there was nothing to gain. His tone might be blunt, but he was clearly warmhearted. On top of all that, he could cook. With everything going for him, it wasn’t just about being likable—he was probably insanely popular with girls too.
