The umbrella was placed over his head, but Shin-jae didn’t look up to check.
Something must have happened. He still had no clue what could be serious enough to make him skip an exam, but instead of asking questions, Sa-yoon chose to silently hold the umbrella over him.
Bzzzz.
How long had they been like this? Just as he started wondering whether it was okay to keep standing here when the other’s clothes were completely soaked, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He didn’t need to check the caller ID—it was obvious. With a quick press of the volume button, the buzzing phone immediately fell silent.
Shin-jae had definitely heard the vibration, yet he remained seated, staring blankly at the ground. His already delicate features looked even more forlorn, drenched by the rain.
What was he supposed to do with him? Sa-yoon rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.
The umbrella, hastily bought from a convenience store, was too small to properly cover two grown men, both over 180 cm tall. Before he realized it, the back of his neck was already damp.
Plop.
Plop.
The rain showed no signs of stopping, continuously tapping against the umbrella. Through its transparent surface, the sky was shrouded in heavy, dark clouds, making it feel like night had fallen early.
Sa-yoon let out a quiet sigh as he looked down at Shin-jae. He must have been outside for quite a while—his lips were pale from the cold.
“Shin-jae.”
His voice was soft, but the fingers resting on Shin-jae’s lap twitched slightly. So, he wasn’t completely out of it. Slowly, the head that had been bowed the whole time lifted. The movement was stiff and unnatural, like a wind-up doll coming to life.
“Sunbae? Why are you…?”
Surprise and confusion flickered across that delicate face as Shin-jae registered who was in front of him. He looked as if he couldn’t believe Sa-yoon was actually there. Seeing that expression up close, Sa-yoon awkwardly scratched at the corner of his eye.
Good question. He himself wasn’t sure how he ended up here. But one thing was certain—he couldn’t just leave Shin-jae like this.
Feeling the raindrops slip off the umbrella and soak into his back, Sa-yoon spoke.
“Where’s your house?”
***
“Hmm…”
Sa-yoon stood with his arms crossed, completely naked, deep in thought.
He had no choice but to wear this, right? It should be fine to wear it… right?
Shin-jae, who had been looking slightly dazed, had obediently mumbled his address when asked. When Sa-yoon reached out a hand to help him up, Shin-jae grabbed onto it tightly and refused to let go, looking utterly out of it.
It felt awkward to pry his hand off, but just moments ago, the two of them—both grown men—had walked into Shin-jae’s home in broad daylight while holding hands. Since they were both drenched like wet rats, showering had been the priority.
At the time, Sa-yoon had stepped into the bathroom Shin-jae directed him to without much thought. But once he was done showering, he realized—he had no clothes to put on.
Caught off guard, he cracked the door open slightly and called out to Shin-jae, but his voice only echoed back at him in the dimly lit hallway.
That left Sa-yoon with a dilemma—he couldn’t put his wet clothes back on, but he also couldn’t wander around someone else’s house stark naked. Just as he was debating what to do, his eyes landed on a bathrobe hanging by the door.
For someone who didn’t even bother with skincare, a bathrobe felt oddly foreign. Still, he grabbed it and retreated back into the bathroom. Could he really wear this?
There wasn’t much of a choice.
In the end, Sa-yoon pulled the robe off the hanger and slipped his arms into it.
“Ugh.”
This felt weird. Like he was wearing a towel.
The thick bathrobe was plush to the touch but heavier than expected. Because of that, the waist tie didn’t stay snug, making the chest area fall open slightly with every step. The way his legs felt exposed was just an added bonus.
Nope, this wasn’t going to work. He needed to borrow the dryer—that seemed like the best solution. Borrowing clothes wasn’t even an option. Not only would Shin-jae’s clothes be too small, but knowing how much of a neat freak he was, someone who wouldn’t even touch food others had eaten, there was no way he’d lend his clothes out.
After stepping out of the bathroom, Sa-yoon checked his phone, only to find an expected flood of angry messages from Min-gyu. Luckily, another friend who had been heading over from another province must have arrived quickly, as the conversation ended with a photo of two people sitting at a table stacked with sandwiches.
He replied halfheartedly and slipped the phone into the oversized pocket of the bathrobe.
Carrying his soaked clothes, he walked down the hallway and stepped into an unbelievably spacious living room.
“This place… looks like a movie set.”
Saying it was big would be an understatement—the living room was the size of a small sports field. If they moved the sofa aside, they could probably play ball in here. Was it even possible to own a place this huge in the heart of Seoul?
It wasn’t just big—it was clear from the interior alone that a ridiculous amount of money had gone into it. Yet, strangely, the place lacked any sign of being lived in.
Was this the kind of home that had professionals maintaining it daily?
As he scanned the room, his eyes landed on a staircase leading to the second floor. A trail of wet footprints dotted the steps—clearly left by Shin-jae. No way a house this massive only had one bathroom, so he was probably showering upstairs.
And so, Sa-yoon stood in the middle of the living room, holding his wet clothes, for about ten minutes. There was no sign of Shin-jae coming down.
Growing impatient, he decided to head up, but just as he reached the stairs, the sound of running water drifted from a door nearby.
At that exact moment, the image of Shin-jae’s drenched face popped into his head—his wet skin, those lips glistening with moisture…
Shit. What the hell was he thinking?
Snapping out of it, Sa-yoon frantically shook his head and all but bolted back down the stairs.
Why did he feel like he had just committed a crime? He had no idea.
More time passed. Still no sign of the homeowner.
In the end, Sa-yoon decided to at least hang his clothes out on the balcony.
And that’s when he noticed something.
“What the hell is that?”
In the massive living room, there was an actual fireplace. But what caught his attention wasn’t that—it was the arched doorway right across from it.
It was placed so randomly that he couldn’t help but stare.
And what lay beyond was an even stranger sight.
A long dining table, large enough to seat eight, had three sets of meals laid out on it. Judging by the state of the food, it was likely from last night’s dinner.
“…A dining room.”
Murmuring to himself, Sa-yoon belatedly realized what this space was.
Yet, out of the three place settings, only one showed signs of use.
Standing by the doorway, he silently observed the untouched, now-cold meals before turning away.
For some reason, that sight made him recall his last birthday. Setting aside the gathering with friends, his family—who had always been close—had all worn party hats and novelty sunglasses while popping confetti.
After that, his younger sibling had pulled out one of those trendy money guns, shooting a shower of bills toward the ceiling. Well, not actual money—just coupons. And finally, they had shared a sweet, decadent cake together.
The memory of his loud, boisterous birthday only made him feel more unsettled now.
As he stepped away from the dining room, the house—previously reminiscent of an art gallery—suddenly felt cold and lifeless.
His gaze flickered toward the second floor, but still, there was no sign of movement—no sound of a door opening or closing.
Feeling suffocated by the silence, he figured he might as well grab some water. But when he reached the kitchen connected to the living room, it was even worse than the dining area.
It felt… untouched. As if no one had ever cooked or even lived here. Even a model home would have looked more lived-in than this.
“…Hmm.”
Would he have to open the cabinets just to find a glass? He was debating how to do so without being rude when—
Thump! Thump!
The sound of hurried footsteps came from the stairs.
“Hyung!”
A moment later, Shin-jae appeared, his face deathly pale. He had rushed down so fast that his breathing was erratic, and as Sa-yoon took a closer look, he noticed Shin-jae’s arms trembling where they clutched the pillar separating the kitchen and living room.
He looked like he was about to collapse at any second.
“You okay?”
Sa-yoon stepped forward and grabbed Shin-jae’s arm.
And before he could process it, a warm weight crashed into him.
Shin-jae buried his face against Sa-yoon’s shoulder and murmured, “I thought you left too.”
Now that he was up close, Sa-yoon realized it wasn’t just his hands shaking—his whole body was. His hair was still dripping wet, soaking into Sa-yoon’s shoulder.
“Where would I go without saying anything?”
At a loss, Sa-yoon hesitated before awkwardly patting Shin-jae’s back.
It was obvious—whatever had happened last night had left him deeply shaken.
He remembered reading somewhere that physical contact could help calm a person down. So, in a way, Shin-jae had instinctively sought out the best way to ground himself.
And that’s when Sa-yoon realized a rather pressing issue.
“Uh… hey, Shin-jae, hold on a sec.”
In the midst of all this, the flimsy bathrobe he was wearing had come completely loose.
And the same was true for Shin-jae, who was also in a bathrobe.
Naturally, that meant bare skin was now pressed directly against bare skin.
The unexpected sensation had Sa-yoon stumbling backward in alarm. But the moment he tried to pull away, Shin-jae clung even tighter.
“Wait, hold on—”
Just let me fix my robe, dammit!
Even when he tried to reason, the other wouldn’t budge an inch. Like an anxious puppy with separation anxiety, Shin-jae only clung to him more desperately the more Sa-yoon tried to back away.
With that large frame pressing into him, Sa-yoon felt like he was being shoved up against a door.
In the end, Sa-yoon gave up on prying Shin-jae off and let himself be pushed all the way back against the kitchen island.
Leaning against it, he quietly resumed patting Shin-jae’s back. Only then did the wrecking-ball-like grip ease, and the trembling body in his arms finally started to settle.
“…They were a show-window couple.”
A few minutes passed before Shin-jae let out a long breath and spoke. His voice was low and hoarse, thick with exhaustion.
“It was all because of me.”
His words were laced with heavy self-reproach.
