“Have you calmed down a bit?”
After holding and soothing him for a long while, rationality finally returned. Feeling a bit awkward, Sa-yoon cleared his throat and pulled back. Of course, it was completely useless since Shin-jae immediately clung to him again.
“…….Yes.”
“Then let’s sit down now.”
He coaxed the stubbornly clinging Shin-jae, using the excuse that his legs hurt, and finally managed to get him to sit at the dining table. The way he hesitated before sitting, stealing glances to gauge the situation, was both endearing and pitiful.
Sa-yoon brought him a glass of water, and as Shin-jae reached out to take it, the already loosened front of his robe slipped open even further—practically to the point of being useless.
There was so much exposed skin that Sa-yoon didn’t know where to look. But Shin-jae himself, having cried so much and completely drained his energy, didn’t seem to notice how much of his chest was visible.
After shifting his gaze back and forth awkwardly, Sa-yoon eventually turned his head and spoke.
“At least close your robe a little.”
“Oh.”
Shin-jae, gripping the cup, gave a small nod and adjusted his robe. The thick, white fabric now covered his broad chest.
Feeling oddly thirsty, Sa-yoon went back to the water dispenser and poured himself a full glass. He had brought Shin-jae room-temperature water, worried about his sore throat, but he himself drank cold water instead.
A quiet stillness settled over the kitchen, interrupted only by the faint sounds of them sipping their drinks.
“Alright, let’s dry your hair now. You’ll catch a cold.”
Having practically raised his seven-year-younger brother while their parents worked full-time, Sa-yoon naturally found himself taking care of Shin-jae as well. With his eyes still red at the corners, Shin-jae obediently nodded and followed along without complaint.
Sa-yoon had him sit on the stool in the powder room, then brought out a hairdryer and began drying his hair. The whole process felt like taking care of a younger sibling.
“You’re such a baby.”
At those words, Shin-jae glared at him through the mirror. But with his eyes still moist and slightly swollen from crying, the glare was more adorable than threatening. Sa-yoon ruffled his hair and chuckled.
Once he finished drying Shin-jae’s hair, he tucked him into bed, even pulling the blanket over him. It was the kind of treatment one would give a seven-year-old kindergartener, but Shin-jae, still dazed and emotionally exhausted, obediently followed along.
The problem came right after.
“Hm?”
Just as Sa-yoon stood up to go toss Shin-jae’s wet clothes into the dryer, he felt something tugging at his sleeve.
Ah. It wasn’t caught on anything—someone was holding onto it.
Wrapped snugly in the fluffy blanket, Shin-jae had extended one hand, gripping the sleeve of Sa-yoon’s left arm tightly.
“…Are you leaving?”
“Mm.”
Hearing the quiet murmur, Sa-yoon rubbed his eye with his thumb. The kid had no energy today—completely unlike his usual self. And why was he talking so pitifully…?
A house so big it felt devoid of life, an unexpected past, and Shin-jae’s tears—everything was making Sa-yoon feel strangely softhearted.
Children who grow up without parental attention often form unstable relationships. They crave affection but feel uncomfortable when they receive it, eventually falling into distrust. Sa-yoon thought he understood now where Shin-jae’s deep-rooted mistrust of people came from.
Besides, when Shin-jae had snapped at him before, cursing and telling him not to act like some annoying bastard trying to out him—he had said something then.
“People always react the same way when they find out. First, they freak out, deny it, swear up and down that it’s not true. I used to believe them too—back when I was still naive. At least, until I caught my tutor stealing my clothes and jerking off to them.”
He had mentioned that perverts had latched onto him throughout his school years. It had been such a shocking confession that it remained burned into Sa-yoon’s memory. People he had considered classmates had stalked him, stolen his things—and even an adult, his own tutor, had been caught in this very house’s bathroom, doing those things…
Thinking about it now, it made sense. The first time they met, Shin-jae had probably been at the peak of his distrust in humanity.
No wonder back then, talking to him had felt like talking to a brick wall. No matter what Sa-yoon said, Shin-jae never seemed to listen. And considering that nearly every significant person in his life—after his parents—had turned out to be either a pervert or a stalker, it wasn’t surprising.
Sa-yoon, lost in thought, sank back down at the edge of the bed, quietly looking down at Shin-jae.
“…What?”
Since his parents had been that indifferent, dealing with that tutor must have been left to Shin-jae himself when he was just a high school student. No wonder he had such a sharp edge to him.
And Sa-yoon, with his own clear-cut intention of getting Shin-jae to star in his graduation project, had been unusually kind to him from the start.
Only now did he fully grasp why Shin-jae had reacted so sensitively when he tried to get close—why he had bristled so fiercely in suspicion, layering mistrust upon mistrust. He had been a wounded child, so accustomed to betrayal that his first instinct was to bare his claws. And Sa-yoon just happened to be next in line.
“I’m sorry.”
Shin-jae, buried under the blanket, blinked slowly. The fluorescent light had been turned off, leaving only the bedside lamp casting a dim glow. Each time Shin-jae’s eyes fluttered open and shut, his long lashes cast fleeting shadows beneath them.
“…”
Watching him, Sa-yoon suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He already looked so beautiful now—he must have been like a doll when he was younger. But instead of being cherished, he had been…
Letting out a quiet sigh, Sa-yoon unconsciously reached out, ruffling Shin-jae’s hair. The freshly dried strands were warm, soft, and fluffy, slipping smoothly between his fingers.
“At first, when I was being all nice to you just to get you into my graduation project…”
Back then, Shin-jae must have been agonizing over what Sa-yoon’s true intentions were. *What does this guy really want? Is he just another creep?*
“I knew it made you uncomfortable, but I was selfish.”
Even though Shin-jae hadn’t wanted it, Sa-yoon had insisted on getting close to him, planning to use their connection to ask him to star in his film. If someone says no, you should know when to give up—but back then, he had thought that pulling off a difficult casting was just part of a director’s skillset. Looking back now, it had been a rather cowardly move.
Shin-jae shook his head. The hand gripping Sa-yoon’s sleeve brushed lightly against the back of his hand before sliding up again.
“I was the one who felt more sorry.”
A long silence stretched between them. The heavy rain from earlier had quieted, now sounding like a soft ASMR track—something you’d put on before bed.
Shin-jae’s blinking slowed noticeably, as if he was drifting in and out of consciousness. Come to think of it, he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep since his birthday dinner.
“I’m not going anywhere. Sleep.”
Sa-yoon settled fully onto the bed and gently patted Shin-jae’s chest. He even made soft shushing sounds, as if lulling a child to sleep.
At that, Shin-jae let out a small chuckle before slowly closing his eyes. He must have been completely exhausted—his breathing soon evened out. Yet even in sleep, his hand never let go of Sa-yoon’s sleeve.
***
“Ugh….”
Even with his eyes closed, the piercing sunlight was impossible to ignore. Had they forgotten to close the curtains last night?
Still half-asleep, Sa-yoon frowned and burrowed deeper into the bed.
But something was off. There should have been a wall in that direction, yet instead, he pressed against something warm and firm.
What the hell…?
Still wandering the edges of sleep, Sa-yoon absentmindedly reached out, feeling around for whatever it was.
And the moment he realized he was groping someone’s chest—his mind snapped into full wakefulness.
His eyes flew open. Right in front of him was Shin-jae, staring back with an expression that defied description.
Sa-yoon carefully retracted his hand.
“Uh… you’re awake? I must’ve dozed off too.”
Shin-jae blinked a few times before his face flushed a deep red, and he quickly turned his head away. Sa-yoon figured he must have been embarrassed, probably remembering how he had acted like a baby last night. He didn’t think much of it and sat up.
Now that the room was bright, he noticed for the first time that an entire wall was made of windows. No wonder the sunlight was so blinding. The view outside was perfectly clear, the sky bright and sunny.
Stretching his arms overhead, Sa-yoon let out a yawn—only to glance over and burst into laughter.
“Oh, you’ve got a bird’s nest on your head.”
Not drying his hair completely before bed had left Shin-jae’s soft locks sticking up in all directions. It was a total mess—fluffy and wild, like a baby chick or a dandelion puff. Even the pale color made it look even more ridiculous.
Unable to resist, Sa-yoon reached out and ruffled Shin-jae’s hair even more.
Shin-jae immediately raised his arms to shield himself.
“Stop it.”
“Alright, alright,” Sa-yoon said, though he was still grinning.
The moment someone tells you not to do something, it only makes you want to do it more.
Since Sa-yoon showed no signs of stopping, Shin-jae abruptly sat up. The sudden increase in height made Sa-yoon let go with a hint of disappointment.
His ears, now fully exposed, had turned red—probably out of embarrassment over his messy hair. Moments like these called for a little reward.
“You know, I noticed it when I was drying your hair yesterday—you’ve got a ton of hair. You’re blessed.”
Shin-jae wasn’t used to receiving compliments. His ears, which had been faintly pink, deepened into a bright red. Now that’s more like it. Teasing a younger guy was always fun when they had such honest reactions.
Leaving Shin-jae frozen in place like a stone statue, Sa-yoon went about tidying the bedding. That’s when he spotted his phone lying in the middle of the bed. He must have fallen asleep with it in his pocket, and it slipped out at some point.
“Ah, let me borrow your charger for a sec.”
Turning on the screen, he was immediately bombarded with SNS notifications and messages that had piled up overnight.
“Oh, shit.”
His classmates had all tried calling him at least once. With a sigh, Sa-yoon realized he had completely forgotten about their meetup.
Skimming through the group chat, the early messages were mostly complaints about him ghosting them, but after that, it was just a flood of group photos showing everyone having a great time. Looked like they had fun without him.
After sending a quick message to Min-gyu, Sa-yoon switched to his private chat with Killer.
“Hm?”
He let out a quiet noise without thinking. Shin-jae, who had been pulling out a charger, turned around curiously. Sa-yoon waved him off.
“Nah, it’s nothing. Just pass me that and go wash up first.”
The open chat with Killer—the only open chat—had no new messages. Not a single one.
Why haven’t they contacted me? He was sure Killer had logged in yesterday.
They never chatted casually, but Sa-yoon always kept track of their login activity. And yet, only yesterday, Killer had been completely absent.
They’re not still waiting around in silence, are they…?
Frowning at the unusually quiet chat, Sa-yoon quickly typed a message.
[sry sry forgot to message u yesterday]
Bzzz.
At that exact moment, Shin-jae’s phone, sitting on the nightstand, vibrated.
Omg reveal time for sayoon??