DHG Ch 34

Heewoo locked eyes with the smiling puppy character, feeling a sense of hopelessness.

‘He’s nice to me, so I’m getting the wrong idea.’

He replayed Daol’s words in his head.

Jang Seungyung really was nice to him.

Too nice. Nice enough to make him misunderstand.

“…….”

He said he kept looking for him. He didn’t refuse to be touched. They even kissed last time. Even when Korea scored a goal, he only looked at him… and he gave him gifts, things he really needed….

But, so what?

What kind of relationship is that?

He shouldn’t misunderstand.

Heewoo suddenly looked down at his hands. The hands that had grasped the man’s large member and stroked until his skin became slick. The hands that the man himself had washed, knuckle by knuckle. But all traces of that were gone, leaving only dry, chapped skin.

The man was nice and may have graciously allowed him some warmth, but that was it. Heewoo shouldn’t misunderstand. He and Jang Seungyung had no relationship whatsoever.

Of course, he knew that even talking about a relationship between him and the man was presumptuous.

He was still deeply in debt, and the man was a creditor with countless debtors. He hadn’t passed the GED for four years, and, illegal activities aside, the man had achieved so much at a young age. They were worlds apart.

Heewoo’s face paled as he sank into his thoughts. He couldn’t even bring himself to touch the desk, pressing only his dry, warm palms against his chest.

A subtle warmth spread through his cooled body, as if belatedly rebelling. He slowly exhaled the held breath. His body, soaked in the pheromones Jang Seungyung had poured into him, ached with an unknown longing.

The man’s pheromones were like watercolor paints. He had taken his time, layering colors onto his body, one by one. And those accumulated colors had inevitably etched a certain shape onto him.

As a faint dawn broke over his hunched shoulders, Heewoo turned away from the sunlight filtering through the corridor window and wished that his feelings for the man would quickly rot and decay.

Would the color of these feelings fade after a year?

The new year had just begun, but he already longed for the next.

After December 31st passed and the year changed, Beni, with its reduced clientele, regained its usual quiet atmosphere. January arrived with a strange emptiness, as the enthusiastic New Year’s atmosphere faded, leaving behind an empty space after the festivities.

Around that time, Heewoo developed a somewhat absurd sense of gratitude towards Madam Won. It was because of cleaning the president’s office.

If it weren’t for that secret emotional outlet of cleaning the president’s office, it would have been difficult to endure these feelings that had become so clear.

If he hadn’t been able to adequately relieve the surging passion that welled up like a child, he might have, in a delusion of self-importance, confessed everything to Jang Seungyung. The thought alone was terrifying.

However, unlike before, Heewoo never visited the president’s office in the early morning.

It was because he had learned, albeit only once, that the man could come to Beni even at dawn. It would be detrimental to him if they happened to run into each other. Heewoo repeatedly visited the president’s office only in the mornings when the man was away handling Geumsan business.

Of course, there was still no way to avoid Jang Seungyung himself coming.

“Didn’t I come looking for you, completely drunk?”

Jang Seungyung abruptly asked, in the warehouse where Heewoo only came on weekends thanks to Madam reducing his workload. He appeared as usual in the afternoon to help carry supplies.

A faint line appeared between the man’s sleek eyebrows, as if he was trying to recall the memory. Heewoo pushed the thick scent of alcohol, which seemed to intoxicate him too, to the corner of his mind, thinking that the memory of that dawn bridging the old and new year probably remained only with him.

“No.”

Denying it, Heewoo deliberately lifted a particularly heavy box with a nonchalant expression. The box was a mix of various supplies along with alcohol bottles. The kitchen staff would sometimes place personal orders through a supplier, and they would be packed haphazardly into a single box like this.

As usual, he was guiding the man, who was walking alongside him, towards the less drafty inner area when a hand suddenly reached out for the box he was carrying.

“What’s this? A box of confiscated goods from some big shot?”

Before he could react, the weight pressing down on his arms suddenly lightened. Jang Seungyung had grabbed half the contents of the box, a whole bag full, in one go.

“I’ll carry it.”

Heewoo protested briefly, then realized that the distance between him and the man had become too close.

The man, who had effortlessly taken the heavy bundle of bags that had been difficult to carry with two hands, was now so close that the bridge of his nose almost touched Heewoo’s cheek. As if he was trying to confirm his scent.

Along with his warm breath, the tip of his nose touched his ear.

He was involuntarily reminded of a similar memory. The close proximity with the man at dawn. The low breaths that scattered around his ear, the feeling of his face buried in his neck, sucking on his thin skin, and finally, the heat that had drenched his hand.

“Are you sure I didn’t come looking for you?”

The abruptly dropped topic resumed. Heewoo felt dizzy under the man’s smiling gaze.

“Yes.”

He answered, but in the end, Heewoo ran away from the spot, holding the half-empty box. Laughter followed him.

“Well, if you insist.”

The man arrived shortly after and easily placed the items on the counter. Perhaps because other staff members had arrived in the kitchen, thankfully, the man didn’t tease him further and left as usual after buying a juice. Only the Head Chef, who had returned from the restroom, expressed his disappointment with, “Oh, the president’s already gone?”

Should he quit his warehouse job? Heewoo seriously contemplated it before shaking his head.

Even if he managed to switch jobs, it would be pointless if Jang Seungyung showed up at his new workplace. Worse, if he somehow found out about the president’s office cleaning, his only solace would transform into agonizing hours spent desperately hiding his feelings.

Despite his best efforts, however, the situation only worsened.

On the second Monday of January, defying the saying about alternating periods of cold and warm weather, a cold wave relentlessly swept through. It was on this day that his only sanctuary was almost discovered.

It was around 11:00 AM. Heewoo, having finished cleaning early, was turning around the long corridor when he ran into Jang Seungyung coming around the opposite corner.

He should be at Geumsan headquarters at this hour, so why was he here now?

Fortunately, they hadn’t met in front of the president’s office. After a moment of panic, Heewoo hid the large black bag he was holding behind his back, pretending to stretch. It was a kimchi bag filled with cleaning supplies. There was still a chance to salvage the situation.

“Hello.”

He greeted him and stepped aside. He waited anxiously for the man to pass, concealing his pounding heart.

Crushing Heewoo’s hopes, the man stopped right in front of him.

He swallowed involuntarily, his throat dry. Heewoo tried to pass him first, but the man’s long legs stretched out, blocking his path. When he inevitably tried to go the other way, the man blocked him again.

“…….”

It was childish.

Childish, but….

Perhaps because of the cleaning tools in his hand, his mouth kept going dry. His grip tightened on the large plastic bag hidden behind his back.

Meanwhile, Jang Seungyung didn’t care what Kwon Heewoo, who had been rustling since earlier, was doing.

He only saw the boy himself. The lips that had greeted him, the downy hair on his cheeks and earlobes, and the way his eyelashes fluttered slightly faster than usual.

His lips again.

In the next moment, Jang Seungyung tilted his head and stretched out his arms as if to embrace him. Heewoo, who had been exposed to that intense gaze, almost flinched and closed his eyes involuntarily.

However, Jang Seungyung, now close, only took the large plastic bag Heewoo had hidden behind his back. After retrieving the bag, he clasped his hands behind his back, hiding the black plastic.

“I was just going to help you carry it.”

His tone suggested that Heewoo was overreacting. A playful voice, a teasing smile. Heewoo’s eyes blinked in disbelief.

“Give it back.”

“I’ll help you.”

“It’s light.”

“Light or heavy, I always want to help you carry things.”

The man, who had indeed helped him carry Daol, the supplies, and now this, looked Heewoo up and down as he spoke.

“Maybe it’s because you’re so much smaller than me.”

So much smaller? The man, clearly over 6’2”, was the unusual one. Heewoo himself was well above average height. But he couldn’t argue strongly. The embarrassment of having mistakenly thought the man was about to kiss him still lingered. He was annoyed, and embarrassed.

Heewoo was lost in a confused swirl of emotions when…

“Is the desk comfortable?”

“Yes.”

Heewoo answered reflexively, then realized how foolish he sounded.

“Good.”

The man said.

It was foolish of him to fall for the leading question, foolish of him to assume the man had forgotten the drunken visit despite gifting him the desk.

It was always like this these days. Whenever the man was near, he lost his wits. He kept making absurd mistakes, like putting his phone in the refrigerator.

“…….”

“I worked my ass off picking that out.”

Heewoo realized the man remembered that drunken night. Maybe not all of it, but more than just bits and pieces.