“I don’t like jokes where you randomly tie people together without any feelings involved.”
“Then are you saying it’s okay to tie people together if there are feelings?”
Even though Yi-hyeon had just warned him, Han Jun went right on saying something weird again.
Yi-hyeon didn’t like how Han Jun kept throwing out questions that seemed to leave room for something more, even though he didn’t actually have feelings for him—and then persistently pressed for answers. And he hated himself for being so helplessly shaken by those questions.
His thoughts tangled into a mess, and afraid he might misspeak, Yi-hyeon hesitated to open his mouth.
That unease ended up making him ramble.
“What do you even see in me that you’d bother building feelings with someone like me?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Well, I’m not handsome like you, I’m short, and—no, even putting all that aside, I’m…”
A guy.
Answering Han Jun’s question felt like overestimating his own place, and Yi-hyeon’s voice gradually grew smaller.
“Hey, hey, stop. Why is your self-esteem so low? If you think like that, what does that make the feelings of someone who likes you, you idiot.”
At Han Jun’s words, Yi-hyeon smoothed out the wrinkled edge of the blanket and muttered like he was venting.
“I already told you. I’m short, timid, and not even good-looking. Who would ever like me?”
“Seriously, you’re unbelievably oblivious.”
Yi-hyeon’s eyes widened as he looked at Han Jun.
“What? Did you hear something? Someone likes me? Who?”
Yi-hyeon, who liked Han Jun, had never done or said anything that could be misunderstood. That was why he asked in a hurried voice, worried that Han Jun might mistake him for someone careless or easy.
“So what if someone likes you?”
Han Jun tossed the words out flatly.
So he had heard something. Feeling wronged, Yi-hyeon searched his memory for who Han Jun could possibly be talking about. Because he was shy and easily embarrassed, the only girl he’d ever properly talked to or interacted with was Kim Yeon-seo.
“Don’t tell me—you misunderstood because of Yeon-seo, right?”
“You really have no sense at all. Why would her name come up here? It’s annoying. You were the one saying you weren’t even close to her.”
As the conversation cooled abruptly, Yi-hyeon studied Han Jun’s expression, worried he might’ve done something wrong. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Han Jun’s tightly shut mouth to open again.
“Not her.”
At Han Jun’s voice dropping heavily, Yi-hyeon stared at him with eyes even wider than before.
“Then who? There seriously isn’t anyone who’d like me. Who is it?”
“Why are you being so eager? What if you do find out? You gonna date them?”
“I won’t date them. I’m just curious. That someone likes me at all.”
“Why not?”
Because of you.
Unable to spit out the truth lodged inside him, Yi-hyeon could only make excuses.
“Because I don’t plan to do that yet. I have to get into college, become independent—”
“So you’re not dating because of that?”
At Han Jun’s question, Yi-hyeon nodded.
“Right now, what matters more to me is building a stable life.”
“You can still be stable while dating.”
“That’s impossible. That’s why I want to focus on building my future for now.”
Yi-hyeon had no intention of meeting anyone else while holding Han Jun in his heart. To keep Han Jun from suspecting that, he constructed a justification that at least sounded reasonable, then spoke with firm resolve.
Han Jun, who had been staring at him intently, smacked his lips and turned away, saying it was boring and that they should stop.
“By the way, the person you think likes me—it’s not Seo Wonseok, right? That guy is definitely not it.”
Han Jun suddenly shoved a tablet with the problem’s solution written on it into Yi-hyeon’s view. Next to it was a line clearly meant to tease him.
In the end, it was another joke.
Of course it was. Who would ever like someone like him? Yi-hyeon let a faint, bitter smile flicker across his face before it faded away.
“So are you gonna let me sleep here or not? If I go home again today, I’ll be all alone. It’s so boring.”
Han Jun whined about not wanting to go home alone, repeatedly asking to sleep over. Yi-hyeon couldn’t bring himself to send him away—more accurately, he didn’t want to. Planning to give Han Jun his already narrow bed, he brought over a blanket that had been spread in the empty room and laid it out on the floor.
As he neatly placed a pillow on top, Han Jun came back from showering in the shared bathroom, burst out laughing, and folded the blanket Yi-hyeon had laid out.
“Why are you folding it back up when you just spread it out?”
“Isn’t it obvious? There’s no way you’re putting me on the floor. That means you’re planning to sleep there. How could I do that to you? I’d feel awful.”
“How could you not? Just look—the bed’s obviously narrow. If we sleep there, you and I would have to cling to each other.”
Once they came of age, they had to leave the orphanage. That was why there were only children’s beds and youth-sized beds for the residents. With the two youth beds already taken by boys who’d grown to nearly adult size, Yi-hyeon—despite being the oldest—had to use a children’s bed.
Because of that, the bed was so short that if tall Han Jun lay down, everything below his knees would hang in midair. And on top of that, if the two of them lay together, it would obviously be incredibly cramped. Even after Yi-hyeon explained all that, Han Jun shoved the neatly folded blanket aside and grabbed Yi-hyeon’s wrist, who had been standing there blankly.
“So I’m supposed to sleep comfortably on the bed while the homeowner sleeps on the floor? I get what you’re saying. Fine, I’ll sleep on the floor instead. I’ve never slept on the floor before, but it can’t be helped.”
Yi-hyeon felt just as uncomfortable.
“That’s exactly why you should sleep on the bed.”
“I don’t want to. My conscience won’t let me.”
“Then the bed’s narrow, so what are we supposed to do?”
“It’s not narrow.”
Yi-hyeon’s gaze shifted to the bed.
Not narrow, my ass. Even if Han Jun took it alone, he looked like he’d roll right off in his sleep. If the two of them lay there together, contact would be inevitable. With his bodily reactions already hard to control these days, Yi-hyeon shook his head, saying it was impossible.
“It’s narrow. There’s no way the two of us can lie there.”
“It’s possible. I’m not as big as you think.”
Han Jun stood sideways and looked at Yi-hyeon, saying that when he lay on his side, he didn’t take up as much space as one might expect. The chest he claimed wasn’t that big looked like someone had crammed double patties between small hamburger buns—full to the point of overflowing.
Unaware of the dark, creeping fantasies budding inside Yi-hyeon, Han Jun kept insisting they sleep together. In the end, Yi-hyeon had no choice but to give in.
“If you roll off in your sleep, I’m not responsible. Do whatever you want.”
Though his words were curt, Yi-hyeon’s heart began to race uncontrollably as he headed toward the bed. Sleeping in the same bed as Han Jun? On a bed this narrow?
It wasn’t their first time lying down together. But it was the first time the bed had been this cramped.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yi-hyeon tried desperately to extinguish the indecent thoughts growing in his mind when Han Jun, saying he was tired, hopped up onto the bed. His thigh brushed against Yi-hyeon’s leg.
Feeling the vivid movement of solid muscle, Yi-hyeon’s own thigh twitched in response.
I’ve completely lost it.
He calmly moved his leg away as if nothing had happened, but his tightly clenched hand was damp with sweat.
Not long after he’d barely managed to steady his pounding chest, tap tap—Han Jun patted Yi-hyeon’s shoulder from behind.
“You’re not going to sleep right away, are you?”
“Why?”
When Yi-hyeon turned around, Han Jun held a tablet PC up in front of his face and smiled brightly.
“Then wanna watch a movie before we sleep?”
Han Jun played one of the most popular romantic comedy movies on the platform on his tablet PC and met Yi-hyeon’s eyes, saying it looked fun. Yi-hyeon had already watched it alone before, but he nodded as if he were seeing it for the first time.
