ACJY C50

Taeheun opened his eyes at the sound of the man speaking in a low voice. He had fallen asleep in the living room again, instead of going to his room. He remembered refusing the man’s offer to take him to his room. Groaning, he managed to sit up. His bruised face throbbed.

The man was on the phone. He sat at the dining table, a red cordless phone in his hand, talking to someone.

“I’m sorry. You understand, right? How’s your body?”

His voice was gentle. From the conversation alone, Taeheun knew he was talking to Kwon Yeonjun. He looked at the clock; it was only 6 a.m.

He was thirsty. Ignoring the man’s phone call, he went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. The man glanced at him and held out Taeheun’s cup, which was on the dining table.

“Do you want some too, Mr. Gibeom?”

The man nodded.

He poured barley tea into the man’s cup. A pot was boiling on the gas stove. Two eggs and three packets of ramen sat waiting, their contents exposed. Taeheun stopped the man from getting up and added the soup base and vegetable flakes to the pot himself.

“I’ll make it.”

The man, having finished his call, approached him.

“It’s okay. I know how to make ramen.”

“Still…”

“What do you mean ‘still’? Just sit down.”

The man stood there for a moment longer, then placed kimchi and spoons on the table.

The noodles boiled vigorously. He cracked two eggs into the pot and turned off the stove. The man placed a trivet on the table, and he put the pot on top of it. Taeheun stopped the man from getting a ladle.

“It’s just us, let’s just eat from the pot.”

“Okay.”

Scabs covered the man’s lower lip. The parts that hadn’t scabbed over yet were swollen, making it look like he was purposely pouting. Taeheun’s lip was probably in a similar state, though less severe. More concerning than his lip was the cut inside his mouth.

He scooped some ramen into his bowl and slurped it down. The heat stung his mouth intensely. The sharp pain felt strangely good.

The man ate the ramen as if his lip was perfectly fine. He occasionally frowned, but he didn’t seem particularly bothered.

Was the man also the type who enjoyed pain?

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“It’s bearable. What about you, Mr. Taeheun?”

“I’m fine. Can’t you tell?”

He chided playfully. He burst out laughing.

“Serves you right. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Jihye would freak out if she saw this.”

“She’d be lucky if she just freaked out. She’d probably never let me drink again.”

A smile touched the man’s lips.

How cruel his words must have been to the man, who adored his child. Taeheun bitterly regretted what had happened earlier that morning.

“I’m starving. Should we add some rice?”

“Yeah. There’s cold rice.”

The man brought a covered bowl of rice, seemingly having prepared it earlier.

They divided the rice in half and added it to their ramen. Yesterday, he had been consumed with betrayal, but now, he was just happy to be sharing a meal with the man, a silly grin spreading across his face.

“By the way, why are you off today?”

Taeheun asked, putting down his spoon.

“I have somewhere to go.”

The man hesitated.

“Where? Somewhere you can’t tell me?”

“It’s not like that.”

The man paused for a moment before answering.

“My great-uncle is in a nursing home in Chungju.”

“Your great-uncle? Is he very ill?”

“Yes. He doesn’t recognize people anymore. He drank a lot, so he has cirrhosis.”

“You must have been close to your great-uncle.”

“No, not really.”

The man avoided elaborating.

“It’s not far from here, so I visit him once a month.”

Not close, but still visits him.

He assumed the man was reluctantly visiting out of a sense of obligation. Had his parents asked him to? Since they were talking about family, he decided to ask.

“What about your parents, Mr. Gibeom? Are they both alive?”

“No.”

The man answered curtly. His tone was firm, as if telling him not to ask further.

Both parents deceased. Younger brother deceased. Whatever the order, there had been a lot of death around the man, who was only thirty-three. Was that why he was so resilient? Because he had experienced so much at such a young age? He was curious about the man.

“Can I go with you to visit your great-uncle? I have nothing to do if I stay here alone.”

The man thought for a moment, then nodded. Taeheun was surprised by how easily he agreed. The man was unexpectedly unpredictable.

“By the way, with our faces like this, the people at the nursing home will be surprised. We might be mistaken for gangsters.”

“I doubt it.”

They laughed and cleared the table together.

While the man washed the dishes, Taeheun took a shower. The temperature had dropped significantly after the rain. The water, which usually washed away the heat and sweat instantly, was now cold enough to give him goosebumps. It woke him up completely.

He turned off the shower and stood in front of the mirror. His face was flushed, perhaps from the cold water. The skin around his eyes was also red. There was a bruise on his left cheek where the man had punched him, and a thin scab covered his split left lip. He brushed his wet hair back from his forehead.

Instead of using his own perfectly good towel, he dried himself with the man’s faded light green towel. He carefully dried his genitals in particular. He knew the man wouldn’t use this towel if he knew it was wet, but he wanted to do it anyway. It was childish, but what could he do? He wanted to.

Taeheun hung the towel back up and went to his room naked. He put on his underwear and pants, and then he heard the sound of running water. The man was finally taking a shower.

Even if his great-uncle couldn’t recognize people, Taeheun still wanted to look good for the visit. He took out his best shirt. Buttoning his shirt, he left the room and bumped into the man, who had just finished showering. He was only wearing underwear, and Taeheun’s white towel was in his hand.

“I, uh, I thought you didn’t use this towel.”

The man said defensively.

“Ah, I forgot to tell you. I just grabbed whatever was closest, and it turned out to be your towel, Mr. Gibeom. It’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Yes. But mine is quite old, so please use yours next time, Mr. Taeheun.”

“What does it matter? It’s just a towel.”

“Well… yes.”

The man limped towards the living room.

His small, firm buttocks, his smooth thighs and calves with just the right amount of muscle underneath were a pleasing sight. He had known from the beginning that the man had a good body. Hadn’t he seen his buttocks, thighs, and calves, each a slightly different shade like a gradient?

Throughout the night, distracting thoughts kept creeping into his mind. Did only the man penetrate him, or did Kwon Yeonjun penetrate him as well? The thought of Kwon Yeonjun, smaller in height and build than the man, on top of him brought to mind the image of a cicada clinging to a tree. He chuckled.

The man went into the bedroom to get dressed. Taeheun, finished with his preparations, stood in the living room. It was still raining, but it looked like it would clear up soon. The dark clouds were thinning.

Taeheun’s leather shoes were covered in mud. Where did he put his sneakers?

“Mr. Gibeom, have you seen my sneakers?”

Taeheun called out. The man poked his head out of the bedroom, dressed in running clothes.

“They’re in the shoe rack.”

Taeheun, wearing the man’s slippers, went down to the shoe rack near the storage room and opened it. The five-tiered rack contained not only shoes but also the child’s jump rope and a deflated ball. Even the miscellaneous items were neatly organized. As always, the man was diligent and tidy.

Taeheun’s white Nike sneakers and beach sandals were on the top shelf. The sneakers were pristine white, even though they had been muddy. No one but the man would have washed them. Taeheun carefully picked up the sneakers as if they were treasures. They had a faint scent of soap. A smile spread across his face.

Whistling, he examined the other shoes. Below his shoes were the child’s sandals and pink shoes, and on the third shelf down, he saw two pairs of the man’s shoes. Taeheun examined them closely. One was familiar, the pair he wore to church, but the other was almost brand new.

He put his sneakers down and picked up the man’s new shoes. They looked custom-made, like boots, and the two shoes felt different in weight. Unlike the slightly clumsy-looking boots, these were so meticulously crafted that the difference was barely noticeable. The shoes, which must have been quite expensive, were polished to a shine, and the soles were hardly worn, indicating they hadn’t been worn much. These were clearly shoes reserved for special occasions. He wondered what that occasion was.

The man had come out to the living room.

“What shoes are you wearing, Mr. Gibeom? I’ll get them for you.”

“No, it’s okay. I can get them myself.”

“Why bother? I’ll get them for you.”

The man said apologetically, “Well, then…”

“There should be two pairs of shoes, please get me the new ones.”

“Ah.”

He was disappointed.

To think the man would wear such nice shoes for a visit to his great-uncle in a nursing home, of all places.

He briefly wondered if there was a woman the man liked at the hospital, then corrected himself. He felt a strange pang of jealousy. If it was a doctor, he was definitely out of the running. Then he remembered that, doctor or not, he had lost to Kwon Yeonjun. Honestly, it felt unfair to say he had lost. If the man had enjoyed it, it would be a different story, but he had been sound asleep. He wondered if he had even gotten an erection. He placed the man’s shoes on the stepstone, lost in frivolous thoughts.