UR Chapter 88

Chapter 88

“…”

“…”

“…Ha.”

The air between them, which had swelled and fluttered, seemed to pause for a moment—then time began to flow quickly again. The little tufts of cloud drifting like pieces of excitement rushed past, and a small sigh slipped from between Beom-ho’s lips.

He released the hands he was holding and, almost as if flustered, brought his own to cover his mouth. His expression was an odd mix—part troubled, part elated. Between the gaps of his fingers, the curve of his lips lifted in a way that was impossible to hide.

“Ah… what do I do?”

“…Pardon?”

“…I like it.”

“…”

“More than I thought, actually. I didn’t know… being called by name could feel this good.”

He smiled so radiantly his eyes nearly disappeared.

“Guess I was right to go on this date with you. Next time—”

Before he could finish, the sun dipped low, just about to disappear behind the mountains. The blazing orange glow wrapped around them at the edge of the parking lot, soaking into the air between them. It was hard to tell if the blush on I-bom’s cheeks came from the sunset’s reflection or from something else entirely.

“…Huh?”

Suddenly—thwack, splat—a sharp drumming sound surrounded them. A cold stream slid down the back of I-bom’s neck.

He glanced down instinctively. Water spots. Before he could even process it, a chill spread over his shoulder. Rain. A sudden, heavy downpour with thick, heavy drops.

“Why’s there a sunshower all of a sudden…?”

He opened his palm in surprise. It wasn’t exactly a bolt from the blue, but this was close—how could it start raining like this on such a clear day?

He looked up, but the sky was spotless, painted only with the flaming hues of sunset. No dark clouds, just an open, cloudless sky—yet here was a curtain of rain.

“Uh, B-Beom-ho… ssi, I think we should find cover!”

I-bom raised a hand over his head and looked around quickly. Others nearby yelped and dashed away in all directions. Glancing toward the shadows between the mountains that ringed Neverland, he thought, Mountain weather really is unpredictable.

“Wow… it’s really coming down.”

A flicker of surprise passed over Beom-ho’s face. I-bom rose on tiptoe, scanning for a place to hide. Watching him, Beom-ho smoothly shrugged off his jacket, gave it a quick shake, and pulled it snugly over I-bom’s head.

“For now, use this.”

“W-what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. Should we run?”

He spoke politely, and as soon as I-bom met his gaze and nodded, his mouth parted—like a signal. Beom-ho slipped an arm lightly around I-bom’s shoulders, the jacket hood still over his head, and they took off toward the far side of the lot. Their sneakers slapped against the pavement, splashing through puddles as the cold water sprayed up over their toes.

Beep—

Their car wasn’t in the main parking lot but in a separate space. “Hold on,” Beom-ho called, and with a metallic clunk, the car door unlocked.

As I-bom glanced around, Beom-ho pulled him close, shielding him. The heat of his breath was humid against the cool air; his clothes, already soaked, clung to him. The earthy scent of rain mixed with the strangely warm, human scent of Beom-ho’s skin. I-bom’s cheek bumped against the solid plane of his collarbone and chest, and he caught the faint, steady thump of Beom-ho’s heart.

He couldn’t tell if the heat in his cheeks came from excitement or from the chill of the rain. The taste of rainwater—slightly metallic—dripped onto his lips.

…What is this?

For a moment, it all felt strangely unreal. The faint noises that should have been in the background—a birdcall, leaves rustling, the steps of animals—were gone. Nothing but the sound of the rain.

…Is it because of the rain?

When Beom-ho opened the car door, the last traces of the day’s sun and a wave of lingering heat from the car’s heater spilled out. With it, I-bom’s tension suddenly loosened, and a shiver ran down his shoulders.

“Uh…”

He bit his lip to swallow the sound, but the faint clack of his chattering teeth still escaped. Hugging his arms, he trembled. Outside, Beom-ho shook the water from his jacket, then turned back to cup I-bom’s face with a serious expression.

“Are you all right? Looks like you got pretty wet.”

He rubbed the chilled skin of I-bom’s cheeks and swept back his damp hair, scanning him with a worried gaze.

“If you go home like this, you’ll catch a cold.”

“A-ah, I’ll be fine once I get inside. But… I think the seat’s wet—do you have something to wipe it with?”

Even as he hunched his shoulders and looked around, Beom-ho sighed softly. The jacket had kept him from getting completely drenched, but his hair was messy, his cheeks pale, the veins in his neck stark against skin, and his lips tinged faintly blue. It was obvious he’d catch a chill.

I-bom said he was fine, that he’d just go home, but letting him leave like this didn’t sit right. A drafty house wouldn’t do much to warm him up.

A droplet slid down from his wet hair, along his neck, and pooled in the hollow of his collarbone. Beom-ho lifted a hand carefully to wipe it away—

“…”

His finger shifted, and the droplet slipped straight under the edge of his shirt. The sight he caught as he moved to help made him freeze.

“…”

The pale blue hoodie I-bom wore was soaked through. The thin cotton clung to his frame, outlining every curve beneath. When he shifted to look for something to wipe the seat, the damp fabric molded closer, revealing the faint swell of his nipples.

Beom-ho brought a hand to his mouth, covering it as if to steady himself. Judging by I-bom’s expression, he was unaware. Beom-ho closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again.

Letting him go home like this… wouldn’t be a good idea.

“…I-bom.”

“Yes?”

“Do you like hot tea?”

“…Huh?”

“Your clothes are soaked. They should be dried… I can make you a cup while you wait.”

The corners of his mouth lifted in a subtle smile. His face was gentle, but his mind was burning.

“Want to stop by my place?”

* * *

…I-bom had assumed that when he said “let’s go to my place,” they would be heading to that mansion called Guhochae they’d visited last time.

“We’re here.”

Screech— The man pulled the car to a stop. I-bom’s eyes widened as he looked around the darkened view outside the window. They weren’t in front of an apartment or a mansion at all. They were in the parking lot at the entrance of the SH Complex Center—one of the tallest skyscrapers in Seoul, standing right beside the city’s largest department store.

He lives here?

I-bom scanned the area, but there was nothing that looked remotely like a “home.” Maybe they’d come to the wrong place? But the car didn’t move again. His hazy vision, dulled by the rain, dimmed into a dark gray blur before slowly sharpening. The car’s hazard lights were blinking—bright, then dark, bright, then dark again.

At the same time, the parking gate arm in front of them began to rise slowly. Through the slightly open window, I-bom glanced out at their surroundings.

“This is the penthouse I use for work,” the man said, as if reading I-bom’s expression and knowing exactly what he was thinking.

“It’s closer than Guhochae.”

He cut the engine. The faint vibration of the car ceased, and with it, the blinking hazard lights went out.

“Pent…house? Here?”

Hearing I-bom’s voice, the man nodded. With a soft click, he unfastened I-bom’s seatbelt.

“That’s right.”

I-bom was about to ask more when, from the heavily tinted window beside him, came the sound of a knock. His expression instantly tensed, wary, and at the same time, the driver’s side door opened smoothly.

“I’ll park the car for you, young master.”

Sir, Director, and now “young master.” It felt like he’d heard every possible title with -nim attached while out with this man.

While I-bom stared blankly at him, the neatly dressed employee accepted the car keys with a respectful bow.