“…You know, sometimes I think you’re even worse than me about barging in without using a turn signal.”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you come charging in without a single warning.”
Kim Sibaek blinked, then gave a slow nod as he pictured the connection between car blinkers and sudden appearances.
“That’s a pretty clever way to say it. But still—am I wrong?”
Tae Woon let out a short laugh, then lifted his head from Sibaek’s shoulder and leaned back against the headboard. His long, strong fingers tapped lightly at the creases in the sheet.
“Of course, when I say I liked you, it’s past tense. You figuring it out when we were kids and still pretending you didn’t? This question feels off-brand for you.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie, so Kim Sibaek scratched the back of his neck with an awkward laugh.
“Okay, but imagine this—what if some kid, fourteen years younger than you, was running around confessing their feelings? How would you react?”
“I’d tell the brat I’m not interested and shut it down.”
“……”
“Oh, wait. You politely told me I should go find someone younger and more… fresh than some old guy like you.”
When Sibaek narrowed his eyes, Tae Woon quickly corrected himself, throwing in a pair of wide, pleading eyes as if bracing for scolding. If Lord Biendeoé had been around, she would’ve called out the nonsense in the middle of this “serious talk”—but even the obvious scheming was, frustratingly, adorable.
Kim Sibaek knew how far gone he was. And worst of all? He had no plans to do anything about it.
Still, there was one thing he’d finally decided to face. So he opened his mouth again.
“…I probably would’ve reacted the same way. If your confession hadn’t stopped twenty-one years ago.”
What were Tae Woon’s last words before being swept into the Rift?
“Just a few more years and I’ll be an adult. I’ll be an adult just like you. That’s why I… I—”
That’s as far as it went. But even without the rest, that moment burned into him. A child with overwhelming desire, unable to contain the fire inside his fragile heart, had surely been trying to speak those feelings aloud.
But Tae Woon—
“Huh?”
Only looked confused.
“You’re saying I confessed? I mean… I thought you were trying to pretend not to notice, so I did my best to hide it.”
“…Wait, you didn’t?”
“Hmm, I’m not exactly sure what you thought I said back then, but yeah, probably not.”
…So that wasn’t a confession?
Sibaek suddenly felt heat rise to his face. He flapped a hand in front of it like a makeshift fan. His cheeks were on fire. Thank god Lord Biendeoé hadn’t heard any of this.
“Well… okay. Whatever. The past is the past. But then—why do you want to sleep with me if you don’t even like me?”
“Because I’m horny?”
“……”
Tae Woon rubbed the back of his hand where Sibaek had smacked him a second ago.
“Do you really need some deep, meaningful reason to have sex? If the vibe’s right and we’re both into it, that’s enough, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never done anything like that with someone I wasn’t even dating.”
“Then let’s date.”
“…Didn’t you say you don’t do relationships?”
“If that’s what it takes, I’ll play the part.”
The casual answer made all of Sibaek’s internal turmoil feel ridiculous. But if Tae Woon was taking this so lightly, maybe he really would forget Sibaek easily once he returned to Mak Slechth. That was… oddly comforting.
“But don’t you think… if we, uh…”
“Have sex?”
“…Yeah. That. Don’t you think it’d change something between us?”
Tae Woon was his little brother. But he could no longer be a stand-in for the one who’d died. He shouldn’t be. Sibaek had already made peace with that—told himself not to bind Tae Woon with a label like family. And yet, the fear lingered.
Even if they never called it love, the moment their bodies crossed that line, something would shift. A drop of something unfamiliar would stain the history they’d built. And who knew what that would turn into?
Would it twist into something different? Would it blur the memories they’d stacked with time, turning them painful? Would the longing that had propped up his entire life crumble?
Sibaek couldn’t help but worry.
“……”
The gaze that met his restless, flickering eyes was calm and steady. Before Sibaek could notice the darkness lurking at the bottom of Tae Woon’s gaze, he smiled—soft, almost teasing.
“You’re leaving soon anyway, aren’t you?”
The light touch of Tae Woon’s fingers, wrapping loosely around Sibaek’s like a game, made that lingering unease melt away like it was never there.
“We were together for nine years and apart for twenty-one. For you, it was even longer. And even after all that time—have we really changed?”
“…No.”
“You said Hangyeol didn’t look that different from the last time you saw him in that vision, right? Then your time here on Earth probably isn’t long. So if we do add this one new thing in the short time we have—do you really think that will change anything between us?”
“……”
“You’re still you. And I’m still me.”
Could he really be so sure? The thought passed through Sibaek’s mind, but the way Tae Woon’s dark eyes locked onto his—like they meant to trap him there forever—left no room for doubt. Gently, Tae Woon took the hand Sibaek had been toying with and brought it to his cheek. The skin there had lost some of its youthful color, but the warmth… the warmth hadn’t changed. It was the same as always, radiating steadily into his palm.
Tae Woon’s eyes, dark as ink, narrowed slightly, studying him. Then his breath brushed close. Calm, even breaths skimmed across Sibaek’s skin like ripples on water. And yet, it was Sibaek whose body tightened with tension. He bit down lightly on his lower lip, holding in the fluttering in his chest.
Callused fingers tapped against that lip—teasing, testing. Even the light pressure of Tae Woon’s fingertips was enough to make his lips give way. The subtle rhythm, insistent and coaxing, tugged at every nerve ending in Sibaek’s body.
His senses remembered. The heat of their tongues tangled together. The searing breath that spilled between them. The way that solid, burning weight had scraped against his mouth—how heavy it had felt, pressing in between his thighs.
Tae Woon was close—too close. His eyes, darker than midnight, swirled with a hunger that looked ready to devour him whole. And when that fierce, merciless desire finally focused solely on him, Sibaek let out a ragged breath and pushed Tae Woon’s face away.
Even though Tae Woon backed off without protest, Sibaek was the one left breathless, dizzy. His head spun.
How could someone say “let’s just fuck” with such lightness, while looking at him with that much weight?
Trying to steady himself, he forced a casual tone.
“…Still. That doesn’t mean we should sleep together just like that.”
“Come on, hyung. As far as fuck buddies go, I’m the full package. Big dick, tight ass, no clinginess, no drama. Plus, I’m cute, pretty, and totally lovable.”
Tae Woon’s voice was perfectly normal—like he was reading off his resume. It made Sibaek wonder for a moment if he’d imagined the intensity from before.
“……”
No. He hadn’t imagined it.
Despite his words, the heat blazing in Tae Woon’s eyes was real. It was fiercer than the longing he’d felt that summer twenty-one years ago, when a desperate boy had reached for him.
And he, who’d spent all those years pretending not to see it—could no longer deny it.
That fire would consume him one day.
He felt it now, like claws raking down his spine.
But not tonight.
“If we’re going by your logic—my body’s not in the mood.”
“……”
Tae Woon froze, clearly caught off guard. Sibaek gave a faint smile and pulled him in by the shoulder.
“It’s late. Let’s just sleep, Woonie.”
“…You’re only going to hold my hand, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Can’t I just hold your cock instead?”
“Watch your language.”
“But stiiill…”
Muttering dramatically like he wanted to be heard, Tae Woon sulked as Sibaek wrapped an arm around him. They lay down together in silence. The light clicked off, and darkness filled the room. Tae Woon shifted again, resting his full weight against him.
The weight pressing into Sibaek’s chest and shoulder was solid and heavy.
This wasn’t the boy he once knew. This was the weight of a grown man.
A man burning with a desire that would one day swallow him whole.
***
“Hyung. Wake up.”
A flat, emotionless voice. No shaking. No urgency. Just a single phrase that dragged Kim Sibaek from sleep. He frowned, eyes blinking open.
The blurry face hovering above him was… familiar.
He blinked again, trying to place it—and the moment recognition hit, sleep vanished from his body like smoke.
“…Dad?”
No response.
Oddly, that silence helped him regain composure. Come on—no way his dead father was standing in front of him. This wasn’t a dream. And if it were his father, he wouldn’t have used words to wake him up. He’d have kicked him out of bed.
The middle-aged man in front of him did resemble his father… but more than anything, he looked just like Sibaek himself.
Staring up at the striking, unfamiliar man, Sibaek suddenly remembered what had been said.
Hyung.
Only one person ever called him that.
“…Woonie?”
“Don’t call me that.”
The man answered in that same emotionless, slow tone. That dry, neutral cadence jolted Sibaek from the last dregs of sleep.
He sat up wide-eyed, alert.
It didn’t make any sense—but this man… this stranger standing before him…
Could it really be…?
