Seon-woo finally opened his phone after a long pause. There were two messages, but the most recent one was from Gwak Seung-hyeon. The moment he saw Seung-hyeon’s name flash on the screen, Seon-woo involuntarily flinched, his shoulders jolting in reflex.
[You don’t need to worry about what happened yesterday. It’s okay to forget it ever happened.]
Reading the message on the screen, Seon-woo let out a dry, hollow laugh. If saying something like that could actually make him forget perfectly, he wouldn’t have been agonizing over it in the first place. Someone as perceptive as Gwak Seung-hyeon surely knew that. There was no way he’d send a message like this without knowing exactly what it would imply. It was essentially the same as saying, “Don’t you dare forget.”
Like a reflex, the image of Seung-hyeon’s face from the day before, along with the expression he’d worn in Seon-woo’s dream, overlapped in his mind. He could almost remember the exact look in his eyes and the way he’d spoken, and that alone made Seon-woo shake his head in an attempt to scatter the lingering remnants of that dream.
Sure, he’d been swept up by Seung-hyeon and ended up acting out of character, but he swore—he never intended for any of it to happen. Not once had he ever looked at Seung-hyeon and had those kinds of thoughts. So why the hell did he have a dream like that with Gwak Seung-hyeon in it?
Of course, there were a lot of potential explanations. First and foremost, it had to be that stare of Seung-hyeon’s—intense and unrelenting. It had carved itself into his brain, no doubt about it. Another reason, perhaps… was because it had all just built up for too long.
Ever since he entered the body of a Gwanggong, he’d practically forgotten about that side of himself. Originally, Gwak Seon-woo wasn’t the type to be overwhelmed by his own libido, and with how hectic and chaotic everything had been lately, it hadn’t even occurred to him to take care of it himself. That was the reason.
Pressing a hand to his forehead, Seon-woo let out a short sigh. Getting dragged into a game where three men were locked in a love triangle—it was only natural he’d end up affected by the atmosphere. Otherwise, he never would’ve had these kinds of thoughts before… and probably never would again.
The more he sat still, the more tangled his thoughts became. Throwing on his outerwear in a rush, Seon-woo internally pinned all the blame on Seung-hyeon. This was all Gwak Seung-hyeon’s fault for making the first move. But then, his hand suddenly paused mid-motion.
‘Maybe… he didn’t mean it that way.’
Maybe, just like him, Seung-hyeon had simply been swept up in the moment… Seon-woo, who’d unconsciously started defending him, let out a small snort of laughter. Yeah right. Who the hell “just gets swept up in the mood” and starts sucking on someone else’s cock without warning? That was at the very least a calculated move. Whatever the motive was.
And besides, Seon-woo himself was already in a completely different situation compared to the original Gwanggong. It wouldn’t be strange if Seung-hyeon, too, had deviated from the expected trajectory. Maybe he was enjoying Seon-woo’s reactions. Maybe he wanted to get the upper hand by finding a weak spot. Or maybe, like a proper manipulator, he was trying to pry him away from Eun-jae using this twisted little strategy.
Or maybe—and this was honestly the most reasonable suspicion—maybe Seung-hyeon wasn’t after Seo Eun-jae at all anymore. Maybe he was actually interested in Gwak Seon-woo himself…
But Seon-woo forced that thought down and buried it. Because if he accepted it as fact, there was no way he’d be able to look Gwak Seung-hyeon in the face again. From the start, trying to guess what Seung-hyeon was really thinking felt pointless. Out of everyone he’d met in his life, Gwak Seung-hyeon was the hardest person to read.
After repeatedly trying to shake off his stray thoughts only to pick them back up again, Seon-woo finally finished getting ready and stepped out of the house. On his phone screen, the remaining unread message glowed softly—it was from Eun-jae: “See you tomorrow.”
Seon-woo thought to himself that he sincerely hoped he wouldn’t have to see Seung-hyeon’s face for a while.
Whether it was fortunate or not, the person he ran into in the hallway at work wasn’t Seung-hyeon—it was Eun-jae.
“Why the heavy sigh?”
Eun-jae peeked out from behind Seon-woo, who was waiting for the elevator. Seon-woo slowly turned his head to meet Eun-jae’s gaze.
“Seo Eun-jae-ssi.”
It seemed he’d sighed without even realizing it. He let out a faint, sheepish smile, and Eun-jae’s face, which had been smiling as well, froze mid-expression. In that moment, Seon-woo turned his head back around with a stern look, worried he might get scolded again for not acting like a proper Gwanggong.
“……Good morning, Director. Did you sleep well last night?”
After a brief silence, Eun-jae responded with a warm, belated greeting. Seon-woo almost nodded instinctively, but his expression stiffened as memories of the night before resurfaced. Eun-jae continued speaking casually, as if it were nothing.
“You seemed pretty drunk—how’s the hangover?”
“I’m fine.”
“Oh, then I’ll buy you something for your hangover!”
Eun-jae smiled like he’d just come up with the most brilliant idea. Of course, the body of a Gwanggong seemed like it didn’t even know what a hangover was, but the system never allowed Seon-woo to reject anything Seo Eun-jae said.
▶ “Then I’ll gratefully accept.”
▶ “It’s not really necessary, but if you insist…”
As always, Seon-woo picked the first option without hesitation and followed behind Eun-jae, who led the way. The place he brought Seon-woo to was the employee break room.
It was a familiar spot for the company employee version of Gwak Seon-woo, but probably not for a Gwanggong. Luckily, there were no other employees around to whisper and gossip. Seon-woo awkwardly took a seat while Eun-jae walked over to the vending machine. He pulled out a can labeled “Perfect for Hangovers! Phantom Water”, then looked around as if searching for something to drink himself.
“Hey, they have churros-flavored coffee now. Sounds weird.”
Muttering to himself, Eun-jae turned around—and by the time Seon-woo looked up, he was already pressing the button for churros-flavored coffee. Seon-woo frowned in confusion.
“You said it sounds weird. Why buy it?”
Eun-jae replied with complete confidence.
“It does sound weird. But I’m curious.”
Gwak Seon-woo was the type who stuck to what was tried and true, always picking the familiar over the unknown. But still, he nodded, understanding the sentiment. Eun-jae handed him the Phantom Water and popped open the can of churros coffee.
“Hmm… it doesn’t taste like churros at all. It’s just sweet.”
Hearing the blunt review, Seon-woo let out another soft laugh. Eun-jae, who’d just murmured, “Theme park churros taste good though…”, turned to look at him and asked,
“Director, have you ever been to a theme park?”
Seon-woo, still holding the unopened hangover drink, opened his mouth to reply. He figured there was no way a Gwanggong had ever been to a theme park. He thought maybe a vague answer like, “I don’t think so,” would be good enough. But just as he was about to respond, the system interrupted him with a choice menu.
▶ “I think so… when I was a kid.”
▶ “Why would you even want to know something like that?”
He hadn’t thought much of the question, but both options had a strangely wistful undertone. Could it be that the theme park held some deeper meaning?
“I think so… when I was a kid.”
He picked one without much thought and gave his answer, only for Eun-jae’s face to immediately light up as he asked,
“Wanna go with me sometime?”
***
Having gotten the response he wanted, Seo Eun-jae breezed into the office. Seon-woo looked a little flustered and uncomfortable, but he didn’t reject the offer. That was just how he was—he’d make a face like he didn’t really care for something, but his words would be all too willing. He wasn’t the kind of person who made empty promises or gave polite excuses, so why act like that?
He really was a completely different person from what Eun-jae had thought. Not that he disliked it—in fact, he kind of liked it. The more he watched him, the more he started to get a feel for what it took not to get rejected. He didn’t know why Seon-woo would act pleased when he clearly wasn’t, or agree to things when he clearly didn’t want to—but as long as he didn’t say no, that was good enough for Eun-jae.
Theme park… it’s been ages.
He’d only brought it up knowing Seon-woo would say yes, but now that they had a plan, his heart naturally started to flutter with anticipation. Sure, he got the okay somehow, but things would probably unfold differently than he expected. He needed to prepare for it as best he could. Sitting at his desk, Eun-jae made a serious face like he was hard at work, but in truth, he was about to start searching for theme parks.
But then, he suddenly felt a sharp gaze on him. In the dark reflection of the monitor, he could see the silhouette—it was Gwak Seung-hyeon. Even though Eun-jae had been trying to keep his expression in check, it seemed Seung-hyeon had still picked up on the sudden brightness in his face with eerie precision. Frowning, Eun-jae turned to meet Seung-hyeon’s long strides as he approached.
“Good morning, Team Leader.”
His tone was anything but cheerful, but Seung-hyeon smiled breezily as he replied,
“Lovely morning, Assistant Manager Seo.”
Come to think of it, when he called Gwak Seon-woo the other day, it hadn’t been Seon-woo who picked up—it was him, with that voice. The memory made Eun-jae’s expression darken even more as he gave a curt, “Yeah.”
Seung-hyeon gave him a sly smile and asked,
“Why the happy face?”
To anyone else, that smile probably looked perfectly kind. But to Seo Eun-jae, it was nothing short of a devil grinning. He forced an awkward laugh and quickly averted his eyes.
He had absolutely no idea what went on in this man’s head. From Eun-jae’s perspective, Gwak Seung-hyeon was just… off in too many ways. Both Gwak Seon-woo and Gwak Seung-hyeon had turned out to be different from the images Eun-jae had painted in his mind—but while Seon-woo’s strangeness leaned toward the positive, Seung-hyeon’s leaned unmistakably toward the negative. He seemed far too composed for someone harboring any inferiority complex toward Seon-woo, and far too indifferent for someone supposedly interested in him.
“Got a date lined up or something?”
Eun-jae pressed his lips together and refused to answer. Seung-hyeon gave a soft chuckle and murmured,
“Guess I was right…”
Such a damn sharp bastard… Even as he cursed him internally, Eun-jae still didn’t give him a reply. But Seung-hyeon’s persistence was something else entirely.
“When is it?”
“Oh, come on.”
“Not gonna tell me?”
“I said it’s not like that.”
“It’s not?”
“Can you stop asking already?!”
Their pointless back-and-forth continued until Seung-hyeon brought a hand up to cover his mouth and laughed. A cold sweat trickled down Eun-jae’s neck as a bad feeling crept over him.
“If it’s not a date, then you won’t mind doing some overtime tonight, right?”
“Are you serious right now?!”
Eun-jae practically exploded, but Seung-hyeon just smiled like nothing had fazed him.
“Don’t take it personally, it’s nothing like that. You’ve got a bunch of work piled up too, Assistant Manager Seo.”
“God, Team Leader, seriously…”
Grinding his teeth, Eun-jae muttered under his breath, but Seung-hyeon drove the nail in even deeper with another question.
“When is it?”
“…This weekend.”
“Where?”
“…Uvrland.”
Seung-hyeon’s lips curved upward in satisfaction as he finally got the answers he wanted. Eun-jae turned his head away, his face burning with frustration. The furious clacking of his keyboard soon filled the space around him.
