DL Episode 83

#83

Nam Chang-hoon’s expression was notably friendly. However, the reason Baek Sa instructed him to return the ashes to the deceased’s families rather than disposing of them wasn’t out of compassion for mourning the dead. If anything, it stemmed from a faint pang of guilt—a remnant of humanity buried in his otherwise broken self, incapable of genuine sympathy.

Even the worst tragedies, when repeated incessantly, lose their significance in a place like this. Not just at this crematorium, but even among the lives that had faded before Baek Sa’s eyes, their sheer number was impossible to estimate. Once, there was a time when he had lived with a sense of justice, saving countless lives. Now, that memory seemed almost laughable.

If Nam Chang-hoon knew that Baek Sa’s head was filled with nothing more than the irritation of being here and the desire to leave as quickly as possible, would he still wear that friendly face? Perhaps the fact that there had been times in the past when Baek Sa couldn’t even breathe from the sheer weight of suffering might offer him a sliver of absolution.

“Handle it quietly, without making a fuss.”

Baek Sa’s words were dry as he patted Nam Chang-hoon on the shoulder. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away quickly, leaving the ever-growing heat behind. Exiting the innermost depths of the crematorium, passing through layer after layer of doors, he finally emerged outside—only to find that the outside world was just as desolate as the inside.

* * *

When Baek Sa returned to his room, the faint scent of alcohol was the first thing he noticed. The room was submerged in darkness, but it didn’t take more than a few steps to find the liquor bottle and glass scattered on the table. Though he couldn’t confirm, he could easily imagine Ha-gyeom roaming the cramped space like a cat, determinedly searching for whatever he needed.

He spotted the faint outline of a figure shifting on the bed but didn’t approach immediately. Instead, he headed to the bathroom. Having been to countless places alongside Representative Tak that day, he couldn’t face Ha-gyeom in his current state, covered in all sorts of grime.

Even after thoroughly washing himself and stepping out of the bathroom, Ha-gyeom made no sound. Baek Sa turned on the room’s light and sat next to Ha-gyeom, who appeared to be in a deep sleep. As he brushed his hand over Ha-gyeom’s smooth face and leaned close enough to feel his breath, the scent of alcohol hit him—not faint, but overpowering.

The half-finished bottle of whiskey was now empty. Shaking his head, Baek Sa stared at Ha-gyeom’s delicate features and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He recalled how Ha-gyeom, despite being at an age brimming with curiosity, had once refused even a sip of alcohol. Knowing he was the reason for this sudden indulgence, Baek Sa felt a rare flicker of unease in what had been a long and draining day.

Instead of embracing Ha-gyeom, Baek Sa slipped into his arms, finding comfort in his smaller frame despite the difficulty of fitting himself in. Ha-gyeom mumbled in irritation, likely disturbed by Baek Sa’s damp hair and presence. When Ha-gyeom froze momentarily, the sudden tension made it clear he was awake. Hands raised as if surrendering, Ha-gyeom lay there stiffly, unsure of how to move. Yet Baek Sa didn’t retreat; instead, he tightened his hold around Ha-gyeom’s slender waist.

“…”

“…”

Burying his nose against Ha-gyeom’s shirt, Baek Sa was greeted by the combined scents of fabric and warm skin, a mix that finally brought him a sense of peace. He inhaled deeply, and when he exhaled, Ha-gyeom’s body flinched repeatedly. Eventually, Ha-gyeom’s hesitant hands lowered, coming to rest lightly on Baek Sa’s shoulder.

Baek Sa had restrained himself, keeping their contact to no more than light touches and occasional kisses, which was why Ha-gyeom’s recovery had been slow. Each touch, no matter how gentle, elicited an overly sensitive reaction from Ha-gyeom. While Baek Sa found his reactions frustrating at times, he never crossed the line. Ha-gyeom, for his part, never demanded more or initiated intimacy. If anything, he had built his emotional walls higher, leaving Baek Sa to wonder if he would ever break through to the softness buried inside.

Thud, thud, thud.

The pounding rhythm of Ha-gyeom’s heart was like a speaker reverberating in Baek Sa’s ears, drawing a quiet smile from him. That raw, beautiful sound and warmth consumed his attention entirely. It was the one good thing in an otherwise dreadful day. But as that faint comfort morphed into a fierce sense of possessiveness, Baek Sa’s palms began to sweat.

Suppressing the sharp glint in his eyes, Baek Sa broke the silence.

“How long were you asleep?”

“…”

There was no reply. Though he couldn’t see Ha-gyeom’s face buried against his chest, he could feel the younger man’s frantic heartbeat and his flustered movements. When Ha-gyeom accidentally brushed Baek Sa’s ear with his fingers while fumbling with his damp hair, their bodies flinched at the contact.

“Go on.”

Baek Sa guided Ha-gyeom’s hovering hand back to his ear. Taking a deep breath, Ha-gyeom tentatively brushed his wet ear before moving his trembling fingers down to Baek Sa’s nape. His hesitance seemed to evaporate when he pulled Baek Sa closer into his arms.

The warmth of Ha-gyeom’s cautious touch carried an immeasurable depth of affection that made Baek Sa feel almost overwhelmed. He had cared for and loved this boy since his small, fragile childhood, but his feelings had never once been romantic. The realization left him troubled.

Hearing Ha-gyeom’s soft breathing, Baek Sa assumed he had fallen back asleep from the alcohol. He lifted his head slightly to check and was met with Ha-gyeom’s wide-awake eyes staring back. The younger man quickly averted his gaze, his face flushed red, leaving Baek Sa once again trying to decipher feelings that didn’t entirely align with his own.

Watching Ha-gyeom fail to mask his emotions, even under the influence of alcohol, Baek Sa couldn’t help but think of him as precious. In this harsh, unforgiving world, Ha-gyeom was a rare gem—a pure, unpolished stone. Baek Sa knew he couldn’t bear to watch that gem be tarnished, defiled, or lose its unique brilliance.

‘I’ve already walked that path myself.’

“You asked me what I’m afraid of, didn’t you?”

Baek Sa’s voice reached out to anchor Ha-gyeom’s wandering gaze. When Ha-gyeom avoided his eyes again, Baek Sa gently tilted his chin, forcing him to meet his stare.

“It’s losing yourself.”

“…”

As Baek Sa’s sharp eyes held his trembling ones, he slowly withdrew from Ha-gyeom’s embrace. But this time, instead of simply leaving, he climbed over Ha-gyeom, pinning him down as his gaze lingered on the younger man’s flushed eyelids and cheeks. When their eyes met again, Ha-gyeom’s hand hesitantly reached up to touch Baek Sa’s face.

“I understand what you mean.”

Baek Sa frowned slightly.

“Maybe you don’t see it that way, but to me, you’ve always been just you—then and now.”

Baek Sa had never expected someone as inexperienced as Ha-gyeom to understand him so thoroughly. His widened eyes quickly returned to normal, but Ha-gyeom’s hand slid down to rest near his lips, lingering with a trembling touch. Baek Sa could feel the sudden heat radiating from Ha-gyeom’s innocent gaze.

“I’m not trying to be your loyal dog…”

“…”

“I just…”

Ha-gyeom couldn’t finish his sentence, his lips parting and closing nervously. His wandering eyes betrayed his hesitation, but after a brief pause, his voice finally broke through, shaky and uncertain.

“…I just like you.”

Ha-gyeom’s face flushed even deeper as he held Baek Sa’s gaze, his breath tinged with the lingering scent of alcohol. Baek Sa stared at him accusingly, his eyes following Ha-gyeom’s trembling hand as it moved closer to his lips. Something within Baek Sa thudded painfully, a sensation so sharp it made him clench his teeth.

“…Do you even understand what that means?”

“…I do.”

“And even if I’m no longer the Baek Seung-woo you used to know?”

Ha-gyeom’s eyes trembled briefly, but his answer was firm, almost scolding.

“Even so, my feelings for you won’t change. Even if you don’t feel the same, I can’t help it.”

When Baek Sa allowed himself to become Baek Seung-woo in front of Ha-gyeom, the younger man’s pure and unwavering heart always managed to throw him into turmoil. After enduring the long day as Baek Sa and finally facing Ha-gyeom, Baek Sa often felt as if he were secretly meeting his old self.

Just as Ha-gyeom struggled to reconcile the two versions of Baek Sa, Baek Sa also found himself caught between those identities. Though he shouldn’t treat them as interchangeable, he found himself switching between Baek Sa and Baek Seung-woo when dealing with Ha-gyeom.

“I still like you.”

Baek Sa couldn’t respond immediately. Was his hesitation because he couldn’t reciprocate those feelings? Or was it because a part of Baek Seung-woo, who might not have accepted Ha-gyeom so readily, still lingered within him?

“I like you.”

Ha-gyeom couldn’t hold back any longer, wrapping his arms around Baek Sa’s neck. Baek Sa let himself collapse into the embrace, their bodies pressed together. His own heart was racing just as fast as Ha-gyeom’s, the sheer effort of hiding it becoming a burden.

He couldn’t understand why this childish confession shook him so deeply. Even when acting out of lust or pretending to be someone else, he had never felt this kind of guilt. Yet here, with Ha-gyeom’s innocent admission, it overwhelmed him.

“You were the one who asked why we couldn’t be like this.”

“…”

“And yet… you’re looking at me like this just because I said I like you?”

Baek Sa froze as Ha-gyeom whispered against his ear, their bodies pressed tightly together, radiating a shared heat.