“Sunbae.”
“……”
“Sunbae!”
“Hm?”
When he lifted his head, a wide-open palm suddenly blocked his vision. He pushed it aside, revealing a familiar face—Seo Yeon-hee.
“Why don’t you ever listen when people call you? I called you so many times.”
“Ah…”
“Today’s scenario class is canceled. What are you doing here alone?”
“Oh? Really?”
At her words, Sa-yoon looked around the classroom. The small space, which usually had about twenty students, was empty. Only then did he notice the word “CANCELED” scribbled on the chalkboard.
“What about you?”
“Assistant Instructor Kang asked me to retrieve some laptops.”
She held up a laptop as she spoke. Sa-yoon nodded and let out a quiet sigh. He hadn’t even realized everyone had already left.
“Thanks. You snapped me out of it.”
“Come to think of it, you don’t look so good. Did something happen, Senior?”
“You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
Hearing her concern, Sa-yoon ran a hand down his face. Did something happen? Of course. The problem was he couldn’t say anything about it.
“I guess I’ve just been exhausted from all the assignments lately.”
His voice was heavy with fatigue, and Yeon-hee’s expression softened with sympathy. It wasn’t a bad excuse. The professors had been dumping assignments on them like bombs, leaving the film and video department building filled with zombie-like students barely managing to stay upright.
“Ah… You should go home and get some rest.”
“Yeah, thanks. You too.”
“Make sure you rest as soon as you get home!”
As he slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped out, Yeon-hee’s voice followed him from behind. Sa-yoon raised a hand and waved it lazily a couple of times before exiting the classroom.
[Class canceled.]
[What should I buy on the way home?]
As the sun set, the temperature dropped quickly. Stepping off the bus, Sa-yoon pulled out his phone.
He tapped on the pinned chat at the top of his messages and sent a text. The “1” indicating an unread message disappeared almost immediately.
[ sj ] Let’s make shabu-shabu together, like last time.
[The red one? The white one?]
[ sj ] The white one.
Seeing the reply, Sa-yoon chuckled faintly. A complete disaster in the kitchen—someone who once crushed eggs shell and all when asked to crack them—was now getting into cooking. Of course, that was only because they had started doing it together.
As he walked, he mentally went over the ingredients: napa cabbage, bok choy, bean sprouts, assorted mushrooms, beef… Before he knew it, he had already arrived at the supermarket.
[What about kalguksu?]
[ sj ] Hyung, you should cut back on carbs.
“So uptight.”
Overeating carbs was practically a Korean tradition. There was a reason people said flour-based foods brought peace of mind. Grumbling to himself, Sa-yoon reluctantly put the fresh kalguksu noodles back on the shelf.
After filling his cart with vegetables, he picked up a pack of beef round in the meat section and turned around—only to find himself in front of the wine display.
Without much thought, he stood there for a moment.
A little while later, two bottles of wine—definitely not on his shopping list—had found their way into his basket.
***
“Wine?”
Maybe he shouldn’t have bought it after all. He just thought it’d be nice to set the mood, but shabu-shabu and wine weren’t exactly the most natural pairing.
“Yeah… I just felt like having some.”
Luckily, Shin-jae seemed to buy the flimsy excuse. Soon, the crisp pop of the cork echoed through the room, and deep red liquid filled the glasses.
The warmth from the steaming broth and the smooth burn of wine spread through his body. As they talked about this and that, Sa-yoon let his slight buzz be an excuse to lean his head against Shin-jae’s shoulder.
The conversation cut off abruptly.
The atmosphere shifted.
While listening to the soft bubbling of the remaining broth, Sa-yoon placed his hand on his lover’s thigh. He gave a light squeeze, then slowly slid his hand upward. It didn’t take long before he reached the hard length tucked away. His lips went dry without him realizing it.
The moment he carefully wrapped his fingers around the thick shaft, Shin-jae’s hand suddenly covered his.
And then… he moved it away, placing it firmly onto the sofa cushion.
“I-I’ll clean up. You go wash up first, hyung.”
“Huh? What? Wait, what?”
“We just ate, so you should wash up. You only rinsed your hands and sat down.”
Why was the conversation suddenly heading in that direction? The hand pushing against his back was surprisingly firm.
“Wait, is cleaning up really that important right now?”
No response. Before he could process what was happening, he found himself inside the bathroom.
“Shin-jae?”
Feeling utterly dumbfounded, he called out to his boyfriend, but the closed bathroom door remained shut.
What the hell is this? It wasn’t just his imagination—every time the mood almost got there, it was cut short. It took two hands to clap. He couldn’t be the only one trying, flailing in the air by himself like an idiot.
“…Seriously?”
But storming out to demand an explanation would be too much of a blow to his pride. Sa-yoon resigned himself to turning on the water, glaring at the tiles as if they held the answers. Before long, frustration crept up inside him.
Am I the only one who wants this? Am I the only one getting turned on? You got hard too. So what the hell is the problem?
“Aah, hyung…”
He had moaned so sweetly when Sa-yoon touched him.
“I like it too, because hyung is so wet…”
He said he liked it.
Just recalling a few moments from before sent heat pooling low in his stomach. Lately, all it took was catching Shin-jae’s scent, brushing against his hand—hell, just thinking about him, and he was like this.
The worst part was at night, when he closed his eyes to sleep. No way could he get any proper rest like this.
“Fuck… am I the only one suffering here…?”
Sa-yoon groaned, dropping his head forward in frustration. There was a reason he had started doubting.
Shin-jae was always subtly clinging to him in public, holding hands at every opportunity. If they couldn’t, he’d at least press their fingers together.
And that wasn’t all. If they made plans, he’d pout so obviously if something disrupted them. Because of his adorable, clingy younger boyfriend, Sa-yoon had unintentionally been ghosting his friends.
When they were at home, Shin-jae would follow him around everywhere, snuggle into his arms, rubbing against him. All of it screamed someone completely head over heels in their first relationship.
And yet, he avoided this? It didn’t make any sense.
His thoughts led him to a conclusion—there had to be a reason they weren’t having sex.
Standing under the water, he pondered over it, but no clear answer came to mind.
Instead, a solution did.
People tend to think subjectively, and misunderstandings can easily form in that process. If there was a problem, they just needed to talk it out.
Sa-yoon quickly shut off the water, barely bothering to throw on the robe hanging to the side. He didn’t even bother tying the belt properly, leaving most of his body exposed—but he couldn’t care less.
The kitchen was already empty. The dining room where they had eaten was spotless, everything cleared away.
Scanning the living room briefly, Sa-yoon headed straight upstairs. He passed through the small sitting area and made his way to the only room with the lights on, pushing the door open without hesitation.
“Hyung?”
As soon as he entered, Shin-jae, who had been sitting on the bed, shot to his feet and put distance between them.
“Let’s talk.”
Sa-yoon stepped forward. Shin-jae stepped back just as much.
If this were his room, he would’ve caught him in three steps. But this room was too damn big.
“Hyung, put some clothes on first.”
“I am wearing clothes.”
“Properly. You’ll catch a cold.”
Sa-yoon frowned as he watched him retreat behind the curtains. He wasn’t some stray cat wary of strangers, yet he looked just about ready to bolt through the balcony door if Sa-yoon came any closer.
“What? Do you hate looking at me?”
Just to see how far he’d go, Sa-yoon deliberately spread his robe open. Normally, Shin-jae would rush over to fix it for him. But now, he flinched and stayed hidden behind the thick fabric.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Annoyed by the blatant rejection, Sa-yoon folded his arms, standing with a crooked posture.
“What do you mean?”
“I want to have sex with you.”
He wasn’t one to beat around the bush, nor did he feel like doing so now. The moment he laid it out plainly, Shin-jae visibly sucked in a sharp breath.
“What about you?”
“…I can’t say.”
And with that, he shrank even further behind the blackout curtains, barely showing half his face. The thick fabric, designed to block out light completely, reminded Sa-yoon of the barrier separating performers from the audience.
It was pissing him off.
“You think this is something you can just avoid?” Sa-yoon narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me… is it because I’m a guy? Did you try it and realize you were uncomfortable?”
“It’s not that!”
The denial burst out so forcefully from behind the curtain that it startled him.
“Then what is it?”
But once again, there was silence.
Shin-jae’s gaze wavered, locked onto the floor, his lips pressing together as he gnawed on them. Seeing that, Sa-yoon let out a deep sigh and pulled a chair closer to sit down.
“Or are you upset with me about something?”
He had never considered himself particularly uncreative, but he was running out of ideas. What other reason could a healthy, twenty-year-old guy possibly have for avoiding sex with his boyfriend?
“…I do want to sleep with you, hyung.”
And yet, despite being the one rejecting him, Shin-jae looked as if he was the one being turned down.
“We agreed to talk things out if something was bothering us. If you don’t tell me, how the hell am I supposed to know?”
His tone softened without him realizing it.
It’s not the wind but the warmth of the sun that makes a traveler take off their coat.
As he coaxed him gently, Shin-jae’s fingers, still gripping the curtain, began to fidget. It was obvious—he was debating whether to speak or not.
Compared to Sa-yoon, who lived simply, Shin-jae was younger and far more complicated. Sa-yoon almost wished he could climb inside his head and take a look for himself. Resting his interlaced fingers on his knee, he waited.
Thankfully, an answer came before his patience ran out.
“That time… you, um, came out something weird. What if it happens again?”
Sa-yoon’s mouth fell open.
Not a single one of the possibilities he had considered was even remotely close to that.
