- [102X101] Misunderstanding
“Again?”
Yiwoo stared at Do-young with a dumbfounded expression. Every time, he felt overwhelmed by Do-young’s towering height. His already rugged features, combined with his perpetual blank expression, made even Yiwoo freeze up just looking at him. Had he been this unapproachable even as a child? Yiwoo faced that inscrutable expression almost every day, along with the cold night air.
“Water’s leaking,” “the drain isn’t working,” “the boiler’s broken,” “the window frame is stuck,” “the wall seems warped”—Do-young rang the doorbell of 101 with a different excuse almost daily. And always when Yiwoo was home. But whenever Yiwoo followed that sullen face into 102, everything Do-young mentioned was either already fixed, a misunderstanding, or a mistake.
Today, unlike his usual casual clothes, Do-young stood there in a crisp suit, spouting another absurd claim. As if. It had never happened inside the villa before, so why would it suddenly start in 102?
“Are you sure?”
“……”
“Seriously?”
“……”
“Ugh, come on! Seodoyoung, why are you doing this to me? Huh?”
Yiwoo finally snapped, raising his voice. Do-young’s expression remained unchanged. Instead, he let out a small sigh.
“Jang Yiwoo. The door lock really isn’t working.”
Yiwoo flinched at Do-young’s sigh and serious tone, his suspicious gaze lingering.
“Check it yourself.”
Do-young grabbed the handle on the opposite side of the door Yiwoo was holding. Yiwoo stumbled forward, and Do-young caught him effortlessly. Yiwoo’s face burned against Do-young’s broad chest. The cold floor snapped him back to his senses. He quickly pushed away from Do-young and stepped back, glaring. Do-young just watched him with the same blank expression.
It was always like this. With that expressionless face, he casually initiated physical contact. Or rather, it wasn’t even intentional—it was just Yiwoo’s paranoia. Looking back, every incident was Yiwoo’s own clumsiness that led to it. Checking a broken light, he fell off a chair—Do-young caught him. Slipping on water while checking the drain—Do-young caught him. Struggling with a stuck window, it suddenly opened, and he ended up in Do-young’s arms. Stepping back from a supposedly warped wall, only to find Do-young standing right behind him. Even when Yiwoo grabbed Do-young’s hand instead of the tool while checking the boiler, he cringed at the memory. At this point, it felt like he was the one making all the moves.
Yiwoo glanced at Do-young. Surely, he didn’t have any ulterior motives, right?
“You’re not going to check?”
“……Fine. Just a second.”
Leaving Do-young standing by the door, Yiwoo went inside and rummaged through the drawer under the TV. He grabbed a 9V battery and returned. Do-young silently stepped back, opening the door wider. Yiwoo, now in slippers, carefully avoided touching Do-young as he stepped outside. Do-young simply closed the door to 101 behind him.
Standing in front of 102, Yiwoo lifted the door lock cover. No response. Was it really broken? He pressed the button repeatedly—still nothing. Do-young’s shadow, a head taller, loomed over the lock. Without turning, Yiwoo held up the battery behind him.
“Probably just the battery. Use this to open it, then replace it inside.”
He pressed the heavy, square battery against the terminal beneath the lock cover.
“Wait a minute for it to charge, then it’ll open once. Go inside and change the battery.”
Do-young didn’t respond, just stood silently behind him. Yiwoo, now used to this, didn’t ask if he understood. He just held the battery in place. Despite trying to ignore it, he was acutely aware of Do-young’s presence behind him. He could hear his quiet breathing. Like Yiwoo, Do-young stood motionless.
A minute felt longer than expected. The thin clothes weren’t enough for the cold, but it didn’t feel as chilly as it should. Do-young’s large frame seemed to block the cold night wind blowing through the open corridor. The silence grew awkward, and Yiwoo almost spoke up, but the lock still didn’t light up. How long had it been? He should’ve brought a watch.
Yiwoo decided to wait a little longer, his mind wandering.
Lately, 401 and 402 haven’t been fighting. Did they make up? I was going to raise the rent if they fought again. The twins on the third floor have been hanging out with 304 lately. If I were them, I wouldn’t befriend twins—it’s too confusing. Oh right, did I call someone about the leak in 205? 201’s been making noise at night—I should go talk to them. 405 hasn’t been getting any packages. Are they not home? Or did they kick their shopping addiction? And why hasn’t 104 ordered pizza lately? I only ordered because I smelled theirs, and now I can’t even eat pizza.
His stomach growled loudly, snapping him out of his thoughts. Yiwoo flinched, suddenly aware of Do-young behind him. He needed to eat something soon. But when would this lock work? It had definitely been more than a minute. Yiwoo cautiously turned his head to look up at Do-young.
“Uh… how long has it been?”
Only after asking did he realize how odd the question was. Zoning out, stomach growling, and then asking how long it had been? His face flushed with embarrassment, but he tried to act natural. Do-young looked down at him and answered.
“About eight minutes?”
“What?”
Yiwoo stared at the lock in shock. Still no response. He awkwardly lowered his hand and closed the lock cover. He should’ve believed Do-young when he said it was broken. Doubting everything had left him standing there like an idiot. His chilled body shivered as he slowly turned around. Do-young maintained the same distance, and Yiwoo’s back brushed against the cold door.
“S-sorry. It really is broken. I’ll call someone…”
“They said it’s too late to come now.”
“You already called?”
Yiwoo looked up at Do-young, stunned. His tightly closed mouth showed no sign of opening again. Why didn’t he say anything earlier? Yiwoo thought he was used to this, but Do-young’s silence was maddening. He frowned and bit his lip before finally speaking.
“Uh, for now… let’s go to my place.”
He should’ve said that sooner. Yiwoo hesitated before slowly walking toward 101, his mind in turmoil. He didn’t want Do-young in his home. He didn’t want to get entangled. He just wanted to be neighbors who exchanged greetings. But right now, he couldn’t think of another option.
The lock cover on 101 lit up normally, unlike next door. Yiwoo punched in the code and opened the door, turning to look at Do-young. Still expressionless, he stood there.
“Come in.”
Without a word or hesitation, Do-young stepped inside. The door closed and locked, but Do-young made no move to take off his shoes. Yiwoo poked his broad back in the dimly lit shoe rack.
“What’s wrong, Do-young?”
Do-young didn’t turn around. Yiwoo realized this was the first time he’d stared at Do-young’s back for so long. Do-young always stood behind or beside him, watching. Still facing away, Do-young spoke in a low voice.
“If it’s uncomfortable for me to be here, just say so.”
“What?”
“You seem uncomfortable with me, Yiwoo. You don’t have to force me inside. I’ll find somewhere else to stay until the lock is fixed.”
It was the longest sentence Yiwoo had ever heard from Do-young. He was taken aback. Had he really shown his discomfort so obviously?
“N-no…”
As he denied it, Yiwoo felt a pang of guilt. Maybe he had been too obvious. Do-young’s blank responses had made him think it didn’t matter. The broad back in front of him seemed somehow wounded, and it pained him. He emphasized his denial more firmly.
“No! I’m not uncomfortable at all! Don’t worry, just come in, Do-young. Make yourself at home.”
“But…”
“Hurry, please!”
Yiwoo hastily pushed Do-young’s back. Only then did Do-young take off his shoes and step inside. Yiwoo watched the well-fitted suit under the fluorescent light, his gaze lingering. As Do-young walked into the living room and stood there, Yiwoo finally followed.
“Make yourself comfortable.”
Yiwoo gently urged, his hand unconsciously resting on Do-young’s broad back.
The firmness under his hand vanished. Do-young took another step and stood in front of the small two-seater sofa, removing his jacket. Yiwoo already knew he had a good build, even in T-shirts, but the sight beneath the thin shirt was something else. Do-young placed the jacket on the table and sat down, loosening his tie. Yiwoo’s eyes followed his long fingers. Do-young looked up at him, staring. Yiwoo awkwardly averted his gaze and walked toward the kitchen.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
