Gwak Seung-hyeon smoothly finished parking and looked down at the sleeping face of Gwak Seon-woo. Though his complexion was visibly pale, his lips remained stubbornly pressed together, as if mirroring his personality. He looked every bit the patient, yet had caused an absolute scene simply because he was with Gwak Seung-hyeon—throwing tantrums until he finally passed out from exhaustion.
A flicker of complex emotion crossed Seung-hyeon’s eyes. No matter how he thought about it, the situation was baffling. If Gwak Seon-woo’s strange behavior had been a fleeting moment, he might have brushed it off as a misunderstanding. But the odd behavior had continued even after he hurled a sandwich across the room.
What truly left Seung-hyeon speechless, however, was Gwak Seon-woo’s attitude toward Seo Eun-jae. Seo Eun-jae was one of Seung-hyeon’s team members and had no prior connection whatsoever to Gwak Seon-woo. Not to speak ill of the guy, but if he was being honest, Seo Eun-jae just wasn’t the type Gwak Seon-woo would normally give the time of day to—regardless of what kind of interest it was.
Since Seung-hyeon had a relatively good rapport with his team, he’d been able to piece things together through bits of conversation with Seo Eun-jae. According to him, the encounter with Gwak Seon-woo had been purely by chance. The fact that such a coincidental meeting had somehow led to a meal together was already uncharacteristic of Gwak Seon-woo. And to top it off, gukbap? A dish he’d never so much as touched before, and yet he’d gone and eaten it—with Seo Eun-jae, no less? That was downright bizarre.
He knew it was childish to be this bothered, but he couldn’t help it. Part of him couldn’t shake the thought that maybe Seo Eun-jae was the reason behind Gwak Seon-woo’s sudden change in behavior. And yet, despite showing some odd interest in Eun-jae, his hostility toward Seung-hyeon remained completely intact. That, more than anything, rubbed him the wrong way. He knew full well this wasn’t like him.
But what was Gwak Seon-woo’s reaction when Seung-hyeon snapped and threw sarcastic jabs—something he rarely did?
Or when that relative who clearly hated Seung-hyeon verbally attacked him—how did Seon-woo respond then?
Most of all… what about the moment when a man who had always been strong, never sick, suddenly collapsed, pale and lifeless?
When he saw that, there was no way he could just stand by. The smart move was to stay out of anything involving Gwak Seon-woo. The person Gwak Seung-hyeon had once longed for back in high school had been nothing more than a fantasy. He knew that. And yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off him. This kind of foolishness wasn’t like him at all. And still, he went out of his way to drag the guy throwing a fit into his car and bring him all the way home.
Even if it hadn’t been Gwak Seon-woo, he might’ve done the same. Whether it was someone he disliked, or someone who disliked him, Seung-hyeon wasn’t the type to leave a sick person behind for those reasons. So whether or not he’d be feeling like this if it had been someone else… he honestly wasn’t sure.
But deep down, he already knew the truth.
“Director.”
Trying to shake off his thoughts, Seung-hyeon finally decided to wake him. But perhaps the guy really was unwell—because just that light call wasn’t enough to wake Gwak Seon-woo. Seung-hyeon hesitated briefly, then tried again.
“Director?”
At this point, a bit of his usual composure was starting to return. A faint smile played at Seung-hyeon’s lips. He was almost certain—if he called him one more time, Gwak Seon-woo would finally open his eyes.
“Hyung.”
***
Maybe following him home hadn’t been such a good idea after all. No—there was no maybe about it. It was a mistake. He hadn’t gotten any closer to understanding what was going on with him; instead, the mystery had only deepened.
Seon-woo had looked at Seung-hyeon with barely concealed irritation when he followed him up to the apartment, but he didn’t turn him away. When Seung-hyeon asked for the door code so he could go grocery shopping, Seon-woo had given it up without a fight. That alone was an unexpected win. Seung-hyeon hadn’t even bothered hoping for the code; he’d planned to buy some porridge and ring the bell, figuring he’d just leave it hanging on the doorknob if no one answered.
And he hadn’t expected the door to open, either. That’s why he thought the best he could do—the only thing he was allowed to do—was drop off the food and go home.
But then Gwak Seon-woo gave him the passcode. And not just any random number, either—it was a number that held weight for both of them. The anniversary of Gwak Sang-cheol’s death—Seung-hyeon’s father. Seon-woo resented him deeply because of that, so under normal circumstances, there was no way he would’ve ever spoken that number aloud in Seung-hyeon’s presence.
Why the sudden change of heart? Was it just because he wasn’t feeling well? But Gwak Seon-woo wasn’t the kind of person to lose his judgment just because he was under the weather.
He had doubted it at first, but the code Seon-woo gave turned out to be real. Holding the grocery bag, Seung-hyeon unlocked the door with a complicated mix of emotions. The apartment was silent—Seon-woo had apparently fallen asleep again. Quietly, Seung-hyeon made his way to the kitchen and began cooking porridge. His head was spinning with too many thoughts; he needed to move like a machine, without thinking, just to get through it.
Even with the mindless labor, the fog in his head wouldn’t lift. Had something really changed inside Gwak Seon-woo? Was this some twisted new method of torment—some elaborate act of cruelty driven by the same old hatred? If that were the case, then it was a masterstroke. Whatever softness Seon-woo was pretending to show now, it was far more effective than any open hostility. It was rattling him down to the core.
Even if that was what it was… he didn’t hate it. No—in a strange way, he kind of liked it. Maybe getting jerked around like this wasn’t so bad after all.
He balanced the tray in his hands and walked into the room, just in time for a freshly awakened Gwak Seon-woo to start acting out again. It was fully expected, so it didn’t catch him off guard. What did surprise him, though, wasn’t the outburst itself—it was the slight hesitation Seon-woo seemed to show mid-fit. He flung objects around the room like a man possessed, but never directly at Seung-hyeon’s face. After every toss, he’d glance back, like he was checking for a reaction—gauging him.
Seung-hyeon had to work hard to keep his expression neutral. He did his best to act casual, relaxed, unbothered—but there was no way this didn’t shake him. Seon-woo eventually seemed to wear himself out and staggered slightly, like the rage had drained him. That in itself wasn’t a big deal—but what worried Seung-hyeon was the chance that Seon-woo might hurt himself in the process. He wasn’t normally so reckless, but today… he was sick. And something was off.
“You’re going to hurt yourself…”
“You.”
At that moment, Gwak Seon-woo glared at him, his eyes sharp and cutting. The intensity of that gaze made something inside Seung-hyeon ache. The words that came out of Seon-woo’s mouth weren’t far off from what he’d expected.
“Maybe that slave mentality runs in the family… or maybe even without sharing blood, a son is still a son…”
The words were spat out like they were being chewed to shreds, but Seung-hyeon accepted them without resistance. It was laughable—getting dazed just because someone who usually treated him like trash seemed a little softened, cooking porridge just because he looked a little sick. But if this was the price of curiosity, then hearing something like this didn’t even bother him. If anything, it was almost strange—hearing Seon-woo echo something so close to what Chairman Gwak had once said. Even without sharing blood, a son is still a son.
But I’m not someone who moves purely out of good intentions like my father…
He was about to respond casually.
“True enough.”
But what followed caught even Gwak Seung-hyeon completely off guard.
Seon-woo, looking completely drained, staggered like a broken doll. Just as Seung-hyeon moved to catch him in a panic, Seon-woo spoke first.
“This wasn’t what I…”
…What?
“…Even if you don’t understand… I’m sorry.”
…What did he just say?
Before Seung-hyeon could even react, Seon-woo collapsed onto the bed and went still, as if he’d fallen back asleep. Seung-hyeon’s mind told him he should lay Seon-woo down properly and cover him with a blanket—but his body didn’t move. What had he been trying to say? This wasn’t what I intended? You don’t have to understand? I’m sorry? Gwak Seon-woo? Why?
Since when was he that kind of person?
Seung-hyeon stood frozen for a long moment, as if bolted to the floor. Then, finally snapping out of it, he got to work. He wiped up the spilled porridge and cleaned the broken things. He had made plenty of porridge in anticipation of things going sideways, so if Seon-woo woke up hungry later, he could feed himself.
Once everything was tidied up, Seung-hyeon looked down at Seon-woo’s sleeping face. His movements had been calm and methodical, but his mind was still in chaos.
Whether it was because he was sick or just his usual nasty temper, Seon-woo’s brow was tightly furrowed. On impulse, Seung-hyeon sat down on the edge of the bed. It dipped lightly beneath him, but Seon-woo didn’t stir. Slowly, he reached out and touched his forehead. He was sound asleep—not even the slightest twitch.
A long-forgotten thought came back to him. It was something he’d only fleetingly imagined the first time they met. That maybe, just maybe… they could become real family. That they could be brothers.
Softly, Seung-hyeon called out.
“Hyung.”
At that, Seon-woo winced, letting out a weak groan. He twisted uncomfortably, and Seung-hyeon, startled like someone caught in the act, looked down at him. Slowly, he leaned in, his face just inches away—close enough that their hair could’ve brushed.
Do two people have to be like brothers to share something real? …Do they?
Gwak Seon-woo didn’t answer.
Lowering his head, Seung-hyeon gently pressed his forehead to Seon-woo’s burning one. The heat from him seemed to seep into his own skin. And as that warmth spread, he let the feeling wash over him—something close to satisfaction.
Brothers? Who the hell are we kidding… We don’t share a single drop of blood.
jejeje desde ahi sabiamos que no serian hermanos jajaja