Oh?
“What, what did you just say?”
Sa-yoon blinked, then rubbed his eyes. That wasn’t enough—he ran a hand down his face several times. The hand gripping his chocolate ice cream felt frozen, as if it had turned to ice.
The one smiling in front of him was Sa Shin-jae, so who the hell just cursed?
No, maybe he misheard. Maybe they were just saying the name of the ice cream. His alcohol-dazed brain had probably swapped in a familiar word by mistake, the way a popular pop song could sometimes sound like it had Korean lyrics.
He tried to convince himself with that logic, but his voice still wavered as he asked, unable to fully suppress his unease.
Sa Shin-jae kept smiling, silent and composed. His expression was so serene that it was hard to believe he had just dropped a bomb like that.
His lips, curved in a soft arc, parted again.
“Sunbae, you like guys.”
A second bomb.
Sa-yoon, who had been smiling back at him, froze in an instant. The hand that had been opening and closing around the ice cream stopped mid-motion. The small cracking sounds from the melting surface ceased, and silence settled between them.
Sometimes, a reaction was an answer in itself. And Sa-yoon was certain—he would bet his entire game account—that Shin-jae had taken his response as confirmation.
Shit.
The air was still humid and heavy, but his back felt ice-cold. His heart pounded in his chest, rattled by the direct hit. He hadn’t even been consciously aware of it before, but now—
“Really? I… I don’t know why you’d think that.”
He tried to feign nonchalance, but the turmoil inside him was too great. His wavering emotions seeped into his words, betraying him.
If this were a Mafia game, he’d be the first to get voted out. His terrible acting was that obvious. And seeing that ridiculous display, Sa Shin-jae suddenly let out a soft, incredulous chuckle.
His eyes, crinkled from his smile, remained just as gentle as always.
“You should at least lie properly if you want me to pretend I don’t notice.”
The certainty in his tone sent a wave of confusion over Sa-yoon’s face.
Was his vision failing? Or his hearing? One of them had to be malfunctioning.
“What are you even…”
Was he the drunk one, not Shin-jae? Sure, he’d had a fair amount to drink, but… Could it be that he was actually passed out on the couch in some bar right now?
Sa-yoon’s mind desperately sought an escape, teetering on the edge of outright denial.
Maybe he should smack himself in the head with his ice cream just to check.
While he was still debating, Sa Shin-jae spoke again.
“Do you really think I haven’t noticed assholes like you trying to pull this shit for years?”
There was anger packed into those words, pressed down so tightly that Sa-yoon could only imagine just how many people had harassed Shin-jae before.
But what left Sa-yoon bewildered wasn’t that.
“You think I was trying to pull something? With you?”
“I was just waiting for you to finally say, ‘Let’s go somewhere.’ And then you come up with some bullshit about ice cream…”
Shin-jae muttered to himself, like he was talking about some long-outdated flirting tactic. His face was filled with expressions Sa-yoon had never seen before.
That sharp, well-defined face was now entirely dedicated to displaying irritation, annoyance, and disgust.
Sa-yoon’s mouth fell open. Going out for ice cream after drinking was as much of a staple for Koreans as having fried rice after barbecue. And now, that was being read as flirting? That was quite a stretch.
“You seriously thought that was me hitting on you?”
If that were true, Sa-yoon would have to be crowned the king of flirtation. He was always the one pestering people to go out for ice cream after drinking.
“Then what, were you planning to suggest taking a walk after that to sober up?”
That hit much closer to the mark. Sa-yoon’s fingers twitched involuntarily. Unfortunately, he was still gripping the ice cream, which let out a small cracking sound. Shin-jae’s gaze flicked down to his hand, then shot back up as if he had just witnessed something repulsive.
“I swear, it was just—”
“The freshman mandatory elective too?”
For a split second, even disgust flickered across Shin-jae’s face.
“Ah…”
Sa-yoon let out a low sigh. It wasn’t entirely baseless for Shin-jae to think this way. He ran a hand down his face with a heavy breath.
Yes, he had signed up for that elective because of Shin-jae. That much was true. But it wasn’t anything serious—just a lighthearted decision. He needed to fill his general education credits anyway, so he figured he might as well take the class, get to know Shin-jae better, maybe grab some meals together. Saying he had zero ulterior motives would have been a lie.
But it wasn’t like he had deliberately dug for information or anything.
He’d only found out about Shin-jae’s class by pure chance.
During practice breaks, people would casually chat about their course registrations, and he had overheard it in passing. Sure, it wasn’t exactly commendable, but it still felt unfair to be called out like this.
“I… I get why you misunderstood.”
“You really have no shame, huh? Hitting on a younger guy at your age. Then again, I guess that’s to be expected—you wouldn’t have done it if you had any self-respect.”
The problem was that Shin-jae wasn’t even giving him a chance to explain.
“Feeling guilty now that you’ve been called out?”
“Wait, just—”
“Oh, come on. Don’t act all innocent now. You think I don’t recognize the kind of eyes that are just waiting for a chance to grope their way in?”
“That’s not—”
It was like Shin-jae had put a fine dust filter over his ears, catching only the words that fit his narrative and discarding everything else.
“A closeted guy pretending he’s not—who else would pull this kind of shit?”
“No, seriously, you’ve got it all wrong.”
Sa-yoon’s type was someone older—mature, dependable, and smaller than him. Not a younger guy like this, twisted and contradicting himself at every turn.
In that sense, Sa Shin-jae was the complete opposite of what Cha Sa-yoon found attractive.
“I like wom—No, I mean, I don’t like men!”
Shin-jae didn’t seem interested in resolving this with words. If this went on any longer, Sa-yoon would end up with the humiliating reputation of a guy who’d been chasing after someone six years younger than him.
Panicking, he swung his arms in desperation and took a step forward. It wasn’t a calculated move—just pure instinct.
“Wait, Shin-jae.”
“Don’t call my name like that.”
His urgent actions had the opposite effect. As Sa-yoon stepped forward, Shin-jae took three steps back. His expression had now settled into something close to complete indifference.
“What, your neck’s all red? See, even now—when we’re alone, you’re the one blushing.”
“N-No, it’s just the alco—”
The alcohol. The dim lighting of the bar. Maybe he was only noticing it now because of that.
“Every time you see me, you grin like an idiot… I thought you had a screw loose, Sunbae.”
Sa-yoon had smiled so much around him—not just to come across as friendly, but also because of his own face. If he didn’t, people would constantly ask if something was wrong. Years of dealing with that had taught him to keep his expression open and cheerful.
He had thought he was building up goodwill, but all he had really been building was a mountain of misunderstandings.
“Shin—No, look, you’re seriously misunderstanding something.”
“Oh, please.”
“I’m not gay.”
At this point, he was getting desperate.
Shin-jae let out a short, amused breath.
“Where do you all take these lessons? Some kind of academy?”
“…What?”
“How is it that every single one of you reacts exactly the same?”
Surely, some of them must have been genuinely innocent. Just like he was now.
But Shin-jae had already made his judgment. He wasn’t interested in hearing an appeal.
If he had actually been hitting on him, maybe this situation wouldn’t have felt so unfair. But no matter how many times he denied it, Shin-jae wasn’t even listening.
Just as Sa-yoon was on the verge of dying from sheer frustration—
“Sunbae, don’t like me.”
The third bomb of the night dropped.
They say when you’re hit with something too absurd, your brain just shuts down. And right now, that was exactly what was happening to him.
“I’m not interested in guys with the same thing between their legs as me, so fuck off before I tell everyone.”
Sa-yoon finally understood why people sometimes faint from sheer exasperation. He shut his eyes, feeling his mind slip into a distant void.
Did this guy… not understand the concept of communication?
Was he so ridiculously good-looking that if he insisted black was white, people would just nod and agree? Had that turned him into someone who never even considered the possibility of being wrong?
“You don’t seem drunk enough to black out, so don’t even try that ‘I don’t remember’ bullshit. It won’t work. Let’s just avoid each other from now on and spare ourselves the mess.”
While Sa-yoon stood there, dumbfounded by yet another bombshell, Shin-jae shot him a look of pure ice before turning on his heel and walking away.
That wasn’t someone you could reason with, even if you chased after him. If anything, it would just make things worse.
Sa-yoon remained rooted in place, running a hand down his face. The whole thing felt like a bad dream.
Ah, fuck… This is really fucked.
