The moment their eyes met, it took less than three seconds before the protagonists on-screen started kissing, fumbling with each other’s bodies as they hastily stripped. As the wet, squelching sounds of their kisses grew louder, Kim Sibaek’s cheeks flushed an even deeper red.
“Where’s the remote?!”
“Uh, over there.”
Tae Woon casually pointed to the corner of the living room. It had definitely been near the table when they started the movie. When had it rolled all the way over there?!
Still, it’s fine. The bed’s far away…!
Kim Sibaek hurried over to fetch the remote. Unfortunately, the protagonists didn’t make it to the bed either—they collapsed in a tangled heap right by the front door. In an instant, the huge screen filled with bare skin.
He tried to change the screen immediately, but even his fingers turned against him. Panicked, he fumbled the controls and ended up hitting the volume button repeatedly instead of the back button.
In the living room, the slapping of flesh and ragged breathing now blared through the surround sound. Kim Sibaek screamed inwardly, while Tae Woon offered a calm observation.
“The male actor moves his hips really well. Very realistic.”
“You’re not supposed to be watching this stuff yet!”
He slammed the red button and shut off the TV entirely. His body went limp. And yet, somehow, the fact that Biendeoé was still peacefully asleep made him feel even more defeated.
Tae Woon tilted his head, innocent as ever.
“So when can I watch sexy stuff? When I’m forty?”
“…When you’re an adult.”
It was a poor excuse, blurted out from sheer embarrassment. Tae Woon’s lips curved upward in amusement.
“More of an adult than I am now?”
He stepped forward and gently wrapped his large hand around Kim Sibaek’s, lifting it. Though the memory of those once-small, fidgety hands still lingered, Tae Woon’s had grown—his fingers now half a joint longer than Kim Sibaek’s.
As their hands lifted, Tae Woon leaned in. Just like the couple in the drama, they were now close enough for their eyes to lock.
…Isn’t this too close?
If he exhaled too deeply, their breaths would mix. The intimacy made Kim Sibaek instinctively lean back, but Tae Woon guided his hand to his face.
Fingertips brushed against skin. Tae Woon’s body temperature was cooler than when he was younger. The unexpected chill made Kim Sibaek’s fingers twitch, but the grip holding him didn’t waver.
Despite the firm hold, Tae Woon’s dark eyes and steady breath remained calm. His slow, warm exhale softly tickled Kim Sibaek’s skin. That breath, repeated again and again, resembled the rhythm of a heartbeat. As he unconsciously followed it, Kim Sibaek realized—it wasn’t Tae Woon’s heartbeat he felt. It was his own.
Suddenly, Tae Woon’s face came into sharp focus. The boy who had once clung to him had grown into a man, more mature than he could have ever imagined.
…When did he grow up like this?
Drawn by the deepening rhythm of his own heartbeat, Kim Sibaek became hyper aware of the sensation of his fingers resting on Tae Woon’s cheek. The skin was smooth and soft, but it no longer belonged to a playful child. It belonged to a man—rougher, more defined, shaped by time he had missed. His fingertips slowly traced those lines: the firm brow, the sharp bridge of the nose, and lips so pale they seemed almost bloodless.
Ah. A sudden wave of déjà vu surged up. Just a moment ago, hadn’t the male lead in the drama appeared in the heroine’s eyes in this exact way—so close? The heroine, too, had caressed his face…
What had happened next? The heroine’s fingers moved over the man’s face—his lips…
Just like this.
Kim Sibaek’s fingers, still caught in Tae Woon’s grasp, slid gently across the pale, well-formed lips. Softer than skin, the plush texture stirred a heightened awareness in his fingertips. Thump. Thump. That beat he had become aware of now seemed to pulse from the very hand Tae Woon held.
“…Hyung.”
A sliver of red tongue peeked out between Tae Woon’s slightly parted lips, catching Kim Sibaek’s gaze. Damp breath poured over his fingers, heavy and wet—almost like a lick.
That snapped him out of it.
Startled, Kim Sibaek looked down at the hand that was still caught. In a flustered rush, he patted Tae Woon’s cheek.
“If you watch too much of this stuff, you’ll stunt your growth. I’m just gonna use the bathroom.”
The moment he took a step back, the hand that had held his fell away easily. Tae Woon watched him retreat in silence, then let out a slow, languid sigh as he was left alone in the living room.
“Maybe I rushed things. We only just saw each other again.”
Closing his eyes, Tae Woon brought his lips to the palm that still held Kim Sibaek’s lingering warmth.
But hyung…I don’t have that much time left.
Inside the bathroom, Kim Sibaek leaned his forehead against the mirror. If you watch too much, you’ll stunt your growth? It was a pathetic excuse—ridiculous, even for a line he’d blurted out in a panic. What was he worried about? That Tae Woon might grow even more?
Maybe the alcohol’s getting to me. Well… it’s been a long time since I drank, what with the war and everything.
He fanned his face with one hand and splashed it with cold water. The lingering heat on his fingertips washed away instantly.
Even so, one memory refused to fade.
“In a few more years, I’ll be an adult—just like you, hyung. That’s why I… I want…”
Kim Sibaek shook his head, trying to banish the yearning that child had once confessed so desperately.
He had always liked how bright and plump Tae Woon’s cheeks looked as a child, soft and healthy with comfort. Even after his head grew bigger with age, Kim Sibaek had kept the habit of gently pinching those cheeks in jest. So what happened earlier—Tae Woon’s sudden gesture—had to be a continuation of that old game. That was the only way it could make sense.
It’s been twenty-one years since he said that… I’m just being self-conscious.
Twenty-one years. It sounded simple, but it was a long time—long enough for a newborn to not only grow up but become an adult several times over. Assuming a child’s fleeting emotions could remain pure and unchanged over that span would be disrespectful to the person Tae Woon had become.
Anyway, thank God Lord Biendeoé didn’t see me like that.
Kim Sibaek stifled a bitter smile. The strange thudding in his chest had finally settled. He must have just been startled—nothing more—by Tae Woon’s unexpected behavior.
Though several days had passed since their arrival, neither of them had fully adapted to the new environment. That lingering unfamiliarity must have been why Tae Woon’s presence felt so different now that he was grown. It was only natural.
After fully steadying himself with a few deep breaths, Kim Sibaek opened the bathroom door. Tae Woon greeted him with a cheerful wave, his voice light and teasing again.
“Since I still need to grow, let’s watch something wholesome and totally safe for all ages.”
Kim Sibaek let out a deep breath and naturally sat down beside him.
“What are we watching?”
“An anime. The sequel just came out recently. I bet you saw the original back in the day.”
The two of them sat side by side and watched a globally acclaimed anime series that had already reached its fourth installment. As the night wore on, Kim Sibaek finally let out a sigh of relief when he felt Tae Woon’s weight slowly lean against his shoulder in sleep.
***
Unlike most people, Kim Sibaek still found using the internet on his smartphone a hassle. Ironically, the one who had taken a real liking to it was Biendeoé. She tapped at it with her feet, browsed the web, and even seemed to have started gaming recently.
For Kim Sibaek, learning about this changed world was much easier through television. It was an age where monsters proliferated, Eid Portals appeared, and Awakened Hunters roamed freely. Mass media reflected this new world with startling accuracy.
On variety shows, Awakened showcased a wide array of powers, and in dramas, about half the usual conglomerates had been replaced with major guilds. Terrorists in Korea were no longer portrayed as North Korean spies but as Demonic Terrorists—people who believed that monsters were the Earth’s rightful new rulers.
[Death and Beauty says that humans siding with monsters only proves people are the same everywhere.]
“Well, even in Mak Slechth, there were plenty of thralls who betrayed humanity and followed the Paladins of Chaos.”
Even while he watched and absorbed all this information, part of him remained tense, wondering when the next quest would appear. The system window stayed stubbornly quiet. He didn’t like the forced nature of these quests, but unless he completed them, he wouldn’t be able to return to Mak Slechth. The silence made him even more uneasy.
“Hey, hyung.”
As always, Tae Woon was there after work, sitting next to him, chatting brightly while explaining who was who on the TV. But this time, he suddenly asked something.
His tone, so unlike his usual easygoing chatter, was grave—almost unnervingly serious.
