WOP Ch 2.3

The man checked the time on his watch and nodded.

“I know a route without traffic. We’ll be there before three.”

As the door opened, the entrance to the underground parking lot appeared. Still holding his arm, Shin Kwonju led Ha Joyoon to where his car was parked. Due to his large strides, Ha Joyoon’s pace was faster than usual as he followed.

Even while walking to the car, the man’s phone rang incessantly, as if he had a lot of work. With an indifferent expression, Shin Kwonju blocked incoming calls one by one, and then received a call that seemed to be from his office and briefly notified them of his afternoon schedule. The gist was that he was busy, so they should leave messages instead of calling if possible.

“Don’t you have a schedule this afternoon?”

Joyoon asked, fastening his seatbelt in the passenger seat, curious about something. Shin Kwonju, with an inscrutable expression, started the engine and replied nonchalantly.

“It’s nothing important.”

It was a curt reply that left no room for further conversation.

“…Yes.”

Ha Joyoon nodded, forcibly ignoring his murmuring heart and turning his gaze to the window. The headache, which had now become chronic, was so painful that he frowned without realizing it. In the meantime, the car quickly moved to the ground level. Only shallow breaths were exchanged until Shin Kwonju, who had been silently steering, spoke.

“Is it really bad?”

Joyoon still leaned against the window and struggled to open his eyes. Every small movement was twice as tiring as usual. The person who asked the question was still staring straight ahead.

“I often hear you groan in your sleep.”

It was an unexpected remark. On the one hand, he was embarrassed to be caught by him in his most unguarded state. It became common for him to sleep over at his officetel after sex because he would always be exhausted afterward, which was the root of the problem. It was utterly careless of him. Gazing at his profile, made up of precise lines, Ha Joyoon added in an intentionally calm tone.

“…Did I?”

“I heard you need to keep getting treatment.”

Shin Kwonju glanced at Ha Joyoon with a displeased look, as if speaking of someone else’s affairs. He frowned, as if something was bothering him.

“To what extent?”

“They explained it to me, but it was hard to understand, so I don’t remember well. They just said it wasn’t that serious of a level…”

“I see.”

Ha Joyoon closed his eyes, answering vaguely with an appropriate mix of lies and some truth. Their relationship had changed from senior to boss, and now to sex partners, but that was it. There was no need to tell others everything about himself.

Even if he showed everything, nothing would remain when it ended. No one could take responsibility for him, and he didn’t want them to. Joyoon was afraid of serious relationships. Even if you gave your whole heart, wasn’t the end always emptiness? One experience of unbearable loss was enough.

His partner didn’t seem to want to delve deeper either, and silence settled in the car. Now accustomed to the atmosphere, Ha Joyoon briefly let his gaze wander out the window. The Han River sparkled like a finely cut jewel in the afternoon sunlight. The river’s ripples scattered beautiful light, decorating autumn.

“Close your eyes for a bit if you’re sleepy.”

At the man’s rare kindness, Joyoon nodded shallowly.

“…You’re being kind.”

At the automatically uttered compliment, his eyes, which had been looking out the window, moved sideways. His gaze felt sharp.

“I’m usually this kind to sick employees.”

A sharp reply flew back immediately, as if he wouldn’t tolerate any sentimental interpretation. In the brief moment their eyes met, he couldn’t detect even a hint of emotion. It wasn’t something to be hurt by, not anymore.

“Is that so.”

Ha Joyoon rubbed his cheek, unable to resist the overwhelming drowsiness.

“I’ll wake you up when we arrive, so get some sleep.”

“…Thank you.”

His low voice gently brushed against his ear. Drowsiness surged, making his mind hazy. It wouldn’t be bad to sink into a deep sleep like this. Leaving behind all the complicated and painful things…

As sleepiness washed over him, Ha Joyoon slowly hummed a song. The breeze tickled his forehead with his hair. Accompanied by his low humming, he gazed at the golden road covered with ginkgo leaves. Following the beautiful scenery, faded memories and emotions flowed in leisurely.

“How’s your headache?”

His gaze, fixed on the video film, was quite sharp. Looking at the heavily marked film, Ha Joyoon traced back the time since his last checkup.

“Almost every day. It’s a bit hard to bear without medication.”

“Let’s say the worst headache you ever had was a 5. Based on that, express the recent intensity you’ve felt as a number.”

“7… no, 8?”

The other person’s expression darkened at the answer. “Hmm.” Lim Dohyun groaned in contemplation, repeatedly rubbing his chin while alternating his gaze between the video film and charts in front of him.

“To put it simply, the inflammation level… it should be decreasing even a little, but there’s no significant change. Still, we need to aim for medication treatment rather than surgery if possible.”

The face nodding calmly showed no particular shock or sadness. It even seemed serene, and it was Lim Dohyun who was worried instead.

“You’re resting properly, right? You really need to be resting at home, doing absolutely nothing.”

“Yeah.”

Lim Dohyun, not letting go of his suspicious gaze at the other person who only smiled faintly, continued to speak again.

“Don’t do anything, just eat, sleep, play at home, and do rehab like crazy, and just do walking exercises. Absolutely no shocks to your head. You could really kick the bucket if you don’t listen to my prescription. Are you listening to me?”

“Hahaha.” A pleasant, low laugh scattered through the examination room. Ha Joyoon, who had hesitated about something for a moment, finally opened his mouth slowly as if he had made up his mind.

“Actually… I’ve started working.”

Lim Dohyun, staring at Joyoon with shock-filled eyes, let out a thunderous roar.

“Are you crazy?”

His ears buzzed so much he slightly leaned back and gently stroked his earlobe.

“It’s just, the situation became like that…”

“What did you hear me say a moment ago? I told you to just rest while doing rehab.”

The deep wrinkles between his brows showed no signs of smoothing out. Even at Dohyun’s flushed face, Joyoon only wore a detached expression and a smile that was hard to decipher. It was only Lim Dohyun who was getting frustrated by his seemingly calm demeanor.

“I just feel like I’d go crazy if I didn’t do even that. I get too stressed if I just stay still, so I’m doing something… wouldn’t it be better not to?”

“Uh…”

Lim Dohyun, momentarily speechless, stammered and tapped the chart repeatedly with his pen. After pondering for a moment, he continued with a somber expression.

“Can’t you quit? Are you that stressed?”

“…I can’t sleep at all.”

“What about the headaches?”

“If I don’t do anything… the headaches get too bad, and I get tinnitus too. So I keep taking painkillers…”

The room across the hall, Taejung’s room, was hell as soon as he entered the house. The rectangular frame sometimes morphed into a circle, sometimes into bizarre straight lines, threatening the intruder in the room. A mere ten meters away. The poison that had swallowed even the longing for the person he could no longer reach tormented Ha Joyoon every moment, gnawing away at his life.

After completely breaking up with Kang Taejung, Ha Joyoon felt like he would go insane from unbearable despair if he didn’t do something, even for a moment.

At first, he thought it was just simple psychological pain, but as time passed, the psychological pain manifested as physical symptoms. The early signs were difficulty breathing and trembling hands. He would wake up several times an hour and his appetite decreased excessively. Eventually, his headaches became unbearable, and he repeatedly took several days’ worth of prescribed medication at once and vomited. Partly because his strength hadn’t fully recovered yet, there were times when even holding a camera was difficult when it was severe.

Thinking he couldn’t go on like this, Joyoon chose to go to the office unconditionally. When he first received Shin Kwonju’s offer, he was told he didn’t need to be there full-time, but he could breathe a little, at least in the moments he was taking pictures.

When he wasn’t consumed by work, he had relations with Shin Kwonju. Unlike their initial agreement of having relations occasionally, the frequency was gradually increasing. In that respect, their interests aligned. He was aware that he was escaping reality through their relations, but that was all it was.

“Are you having a hard time?”

At the worried tone, Ha Joyoon only gave an inscrutable smile. It was because he knew what the other person was going to say. He was sure to recommend psychiatric counseling or psychological treatment. Before Lim Dohyun could bring up the next topic, who was contemplating for a moment, he waved his hand dismissively.

“Forget it.”

“How do you know what I was going to say?”

“I don’t get counseling or anything like that.”

“Well, don’t think of it as prejudice. Your brain is incredibly strong but also fragile, you know.”

Like soft tofu, though. With a playful expression, Dohyun pressed down on his own head. At his effort to ease the tension, Joyoon eventually smiled gently. Lim Dohyun was doing his best for his treatment and rehabilitation, to the point where he felt sorry for not even remembering his name until recently. His effort poured into a person who wasn’t even worth it made him feel both sorry and futile.

“If you’re under that much stress, I can’t tell you not to work. But if possible, I recommend getting general counseling treatment, even if not medication. Like I just said… the brain is really delicate and is affected by human emotions and thoughts more than you think. It’s not just a change in psychological state, but it also reacts physically. If resting at home is really that difficult for you, then it might be better to go out. But promise me one thing. This is a promise between a doctor and a patient.”

“Yeah.”

Ha Joyoon nodded slowly, playing with his feet on the chair that spun around if he put force on it. Even in every small gesture, no energy could be found. Lim Dohyun, who was looking at him worriedly, even more emaciated than when he first came to the hospital, frowned and continued his advice.

“Don’t overdo it, absolutely. Especially be careful with your head. I’m not just saying it, take it to heart. You’re really not in good condition.”

Worry filled the eyes that met his. Ha Joyoon tilted his head slightly, feeling a bit strange.

“Don’t bang your head anywhere. And don’t fall backwards either. Wear a helmet, you idiot. For now, I’ll prescribe two weeks’ worth of medication, so take painkillers if it gets really bad, and take all the other medications regularly. Let’s check your condition again in two weeks.”

“How am I supposed to wear a helmet?”

“Don’t you understand a metaphor? Get rehab treatment as soon as your consultation is over. You’re originally in a state where you should be receiving rehab for about two years straight. You walking around right now is crazy in itself.”

“That’s for later. I don’t have time right now.”

At the tone mixed with joking, Lim Dohyun’s expression immediately darkened.

“Are you going to come to your senses only after your limbs are completely twisted and stiff? You know you can’t suddenly use your muscles. Promise me for sure. Be careful with your head, get rehab regularly, and take your medicine in the right amounts and regularly. Never overdo it. That’s how you’ll be healthy for a long time.”

“…Am I a kid?”

“I’m doing this because you listen less than a kid.”

Joyoon, who was staring at him intently, eventually promised that he would, and tried hard to lift his hardened lips into a smile. Suddenly, he thought the sky visible through the small window in the consultation room resembled the Mediterranean Sea.

After finishing rehab treatment and making a reservation for the next consultation, his afternoon schedule was roughly settled. Joyoon glanced down at the receipt for a moment, then stuffed it haphazardly into his pocket, and scanned the people in the waiting area in front of the reception desk. Shin Kwonju was nowhere to be seen. Since he wasn’t there when he came out of the consultation room, he must have been away for quite some time. Come to think of it, the assumption that he would be sitting on a bench, eagerly waiting for him to come out, was even more ridiculous.

Had he gone back? Should he contact him? But his worries soon disappeared when he found Shin Kwonju talking on the phone in a corner of the hospital lobby.

“……”

His expression while talking on the phone was not good. Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead due to a lingering headache, Joyoon carefully took steps toward where Shin Kwonju was standing.

“Is there legitimacy to the embargo claimed by the government? They can’t even explain it properly, and they’re just extending the gag order period. It’s ridiculous to be swayed by them to this extent. We’re not in an area to be swayed by that anyway, are we?”

“Senior.”

Tap tap. At the touch of a hand gently tapping his shoulder, the man, who was engrossed in his call, slightly turned his gaze. As soon as he recognized the person in front of him, his cold eyes softened a little. Wait for me. The man said with a gesture, and concentrated on the call again. The person he was talking to also seemed to be related to the press, and content related to transmitted articles began to be exchanged.

He looks busy. He probably didn’t even have time to come here….

After watching Shin Kwonju for a moment, Ha Joyoon soon turned his body and leaned against a support. The path connecting the hospital wards was a round tunnel shape, with the ceiling and sides finished with reinforced glass, so the entire first-floor lobby could be seen at a glance. Rubbing his forehead against the glass surface, he quietly hummed a song. It was an old pop song longing for his first love in life.

The footsteps of people walking around the hospital were busy. Following the trajectory of life drawn by those footsteps, Ha Joyoon blankly recalled the words Lim Dohyun had asked of him. For a long time… healthy… his murmuring voice was faint as if it would die out.

“Is your consultation over?”

His body turned helplessly as he was pulled by the force of a hand placed on his waist.

“Is your call over?”

His gaze looking down at him was fierce, as if he didn’t like his belly that was only flat without any fat.

“The refugee isn’t far away.”

“…Did you wait long?”

Recently, when they occasionally went out on business together, he would feed him until he was bloated. Ha Joyoon laughed awkwardly and avoided his gaze. Compared to the past when it was difficult to even see his face properly, after their relationship changed like this, opportunities to meet inside and outside the company became frequent. Being partners might cause changes in relationships in more ways than he thought.

Joyoon, who was fiddling with his neck, slightly twisted his waist and shook off the hand that was restraining his body.

Shin Kwonju’s gaze, which had briefly lingered on Joyoon’s emaciated body, also soon fell away. He habitually took out his cigarette case, then with a soft groan, put it back in. Three deep lines were etched on his smooth forehead.

“What did the doctor say?”

Joyoon didn’t hesitate long to answer. He carefully tapped the marble floor with his toe.

“They said they need to keep an eye on my condition. And not to overdo it.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes.”

It was information that was neither more nor less than what could be conveyed to others and accepted by them.

A more ominous air settled over Shin Kwonju’s face. The man, who seemed to be about to say something, soon firmly closed his lips and hardened his expression. As they both fell silent in the suddenly chilly air, only rolling their eyes around, a large hand suddenly grabbed Joyoon’s wrist.

“Let’s go. Do you have any other schedule this afternoon?”

“No, for now… I told the editor-in-chief.”

“Then that’s fine.”

His strides, crossing the lobby with large steps, were so fast that Ha Joyoon, whose wrist was held, almost had to run to keep up with him.

“Senior.”

Senior. Even at the repeated soft calls, he didn’t turn around. Ha Joyoon, following his back with his eyes, suddenly felt himself gradually becoming accustomed to Shin Kwonju’s back.

It’s just sex. And yet, it’s strange that I’m getting used to it.

Unproductive thoughts were pieced together like blocks in his rapid strides towards the parking lot. The first time was difficult. Once became twice, and twice became three times, and after that, it was as natural as if they had been in such a relationship from the beginning.

Contrary to Ha Joyoon’s expectation that it might just be dropped due to Shin Kwonju’s cold attitude when he first proposed the relationship, the number of times they intertwined bodies was frequent enough to say it was almost every day. Shin Kwonju was mostly the one to initiate, but he didn’t mind. Although it was an act without any emotional exchange, it was good because at least in those moments, he could avoid thinking about Kang Taejung. Even though the hole left in his chest grew bigger after the act, making him shudder with emptiness, his body faithfully responded to the stimulation and sometimes trembled with pleasure. The human body was simple and honest above all else.

Thump—

No sooner had he gotten into the parked car than a large hand wrapped around his neck. Before he could even register the coldness on his nape, warm lips were roughly rubbed against it.

“Hmm….”

Joyoon tilted his head slightly and watched Shin Kwonju kissing him, then soon closed his eyes together and focused on the act. A hot tongue gently explored every corner of his mouth. He breathed raggedly, panting softly. It was Shin Kwonju’s habit to lightly bite his lower lip in between changing the angle of their kisses.

The man, who had briefly opened his eyes, stared intently at his face. He wasn’t particularly concerned about other people’s appearances, but he thought anew that he was really handsome. After a moment of silence, he slowly stroked the tender flesh behind his ear with his firm thumb.

“Want to go in?”

He was referring to his officetel. The voice, unreservedly exposing the intention behind the words, was lower and rougher than usual. It was the voice only someone who knew his partner’s bare skin, most intimate areas, and defenseless exposure and acts could make.

“…Yes.”

Ha Joyoon slowly nodded, gazing steadily into the deep, dense black eyes staring back at him. He didn’t mind either way.

“…Ah….”

The man, reaching out his arms from behind, intertwined his firm fingers. There was no gap to be found between his tightly clasped fingers. Shin Kwonju, who was caressing his spine with his lips, let out a low curse and heavily thrust his hips, causing the body underneath him to slide forward a step following the recoil.

The entrance, already loosened and relaxed from several insertions and ejaculations, easily swallowed the thick penis in one go. With the heavy sensation of insertion, along with a scratchy tickle, his lips parted involuntarily. Moans shattered and scattered into the air. Even amidst this, Shin Kwonju’s lips curved into a smile at the hand trying to avoid having his head pressed down.

His fair, slender body was mercilessly pressed down, completely embraced from behind. The penis, inserted fully erect, began to pick up speed. It was a fierceness that shook even his heart. In the midst of the frenzied onslaught, Ha Joyoon suddenly wished that his heart would also completely rupture and scatter into pieces like this. More— More— Even though it was a word uttered haphazardly, his partner was fortunately fulfilling his role faithfully. With the sensation of his inner walls being relentlessly poked, weak moans continuously leaked out from between his parted lips. The wrinkles of his inner walls, which had devoured the penis, were flushed red from the rough friction.

“It’s a bit… painful….”

“Bear with it. You’re wide open.”

His voice, swallowing air and ignoring his plea, resonated lowly. It was a rare tone that had lost composure. Their intertwined bodies were already drenched in sweat from the lovemaking that had lasted for several hours. The man, who had kissed his sticky skin several times, suddenly bit hard on the white shoulder blade of the person beneath him. Ah—! In response to the pain-filled groan, the penis that was withdrawing was inserted all the way in without stopping for ejaculation. Pleasure reached the top of his head.

“Heeup!!”

Ha Joyoon tightly closed his eyes at the burning heat. But soon, a large hand pressed down on his shoulders to stick him tightly to the sheets. The pain of his body twisting was unfamiliar. Joyoon frowned and raised his head. His pale face was already soaked with sweat and flushed red.

“Open your eyes. I can’t see you well.”

Shin Kwonju said with a leisurely smile.

“You’re heavy….”

His strengthless arms tried to push away the person pressing down on him, but to no avail. At his continued pleas, a predatory smile settled on Shin Kwonju’s face. He looked with satisfaction at the bright red bite mark he had left, then lowered his head and bit the other’s small ear. Hot, humid breath drew a long arc.

“Hey, Mr. Ha Joyoon.”

At the clear voice calling his name, Joyoon struggled to open his eyes, which were glazed over with feverish excitement. The man with a cool complexion, incongruous with his hot body, came into view.

“You have to open your eyes to cum.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the man started thrusting his hips violently while his penis was still inside him. It was a reckless movement. His body, losing control from the wildly pounding vibrations, shook back and forth on the sheets as if drawing a picture.

“Aah, ah, ah!”

Amidst the short, broken screams, Shin Kwonju’s low moans as he reached orgasm also overlapped. Haah— A voice filled with heightened satisfaction resonated lowly. With a squishy feeling, a lump of liquid flowed down his legs.

“Hoo….”

The man, having finished ejaculating, slowly pulled out his penis, which had shrunk. Due to the recoil, the body that had been helplessly lying underneath turned sideways. Since they had gone without a condom from the middle, the entrance of his inner walls, the man’s pubic hair, and penis, etc., were all wet with white semen. A period of time passed in which they only breathed roughly without saying anything. After a while, he felt the movement of the person lying next to him getting up.

With the sound of footsteps moving away, time alone was given to him. His body, still not free from the shock of ejaculation, intermittently convulsed, chasing after the remnants of pleasure. The entrance, where the penis had entered and exited countless times, was throbbing with pain accompanied by a mild fever. Joyoon stared blankly at the ceiling. The light from the ceiling lamp was reflected in layers like a kaleidoscope. It was difficult to take his eyes off the beige light hidden inside the cover with its classic decoration.

Like a jewel.

Joyoon thought blankly. Even if that jewel fell on me and I died right then and there, it would still be beautiful. At that moment, he heard rustling footsteps nearby.

“Drink this.”

Shin Kwonju, who had brought two small bottles of water from the refrigerator, handed one of them to him. Joyoon glanced at it for a moment, then bent down and began to pick up the clothes scattered on the floor. At the sight, Shin Kwonju’s eyes narrowed as he drank water across from him.

“Are you going to wash up?”

“Yes….”

The voice answering was evidently tired. Fatigue was thickly spread over his small face. With heavy footsteps, Shin Kwonju roughly ran his fingers through his disheveled hair as he approached the bedside where Ha Joyoon was perched. The face looking down was devoid of any readable emotion, just impassiveness.

“Take a rest for a bit.”

“I should go home.”

His eyebrows arched high at the succinct reply. Something seemed to displease him. After staring at Ha Joyoon for a while, the man quickly drank the remaining half of the water, then roughly wiped his mouth.

“Do you know what scene this is? Why don’t you sleep here?”

Joyoon hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. No. His voice of denial was barely audible.

“Is it because of something I said?”

“What?”

“About the groaning sounds when you sleep.”

Ah. An unintentional groan escaped. Joyoon, unable to hide even his surprised expression, quickly shook his head again.

“No.”

Shin Kwonju scoffed and lightly tossed the empty water bottle into the trash can. Clank. It was a clean shot.

“Your thoughts show on your face. Either hide them properly or don’t lie, choose one.”

Their sharp gazes met. It was an overly sensitive reaction compared to usual. Though puzzled, Ha Joyoon chose to answer by simply staring at him without expressing his confusion.

“…”

“If it’s because of what I said, don’t worry about it. I just happened to hear it when I woke up in the morning. If you think it’s a personal flaw, I have nothing to say, but if I’m not concerned about it, then isn’t that enough?”

As if pleased with his own words, the man’s furrowed brows straightened. Ha Joyoon, who had been looking up at him, also admitted with his words.

“I guess so.”

Only then did Shin Kwonju’s lips relax slightly.

An unrecovered body tired easily even from one round of sex. Although Shin Kwonju usually enjoyed himself while being considerate of his partner, it wasn’t without strain. Even if he felt pleasure meticulously, that was all. Due to his inherently low libido, frequent relations were rather burdensome. However, the moment he explored his partner’s body, he could forget about Kang Taejung and photos, which was a sweet escape like a drug that gnawed at his flesh.

“Wash up and sleep.”

“Okay.”

As Joyoon looked around aimlessly, he realized the source of the emptiness he’d felt since entering Shin Kwonju’s studio apartment. There wasn’t a single photo to be found anywhere in the room. Not even an old camera. Considering Shin Kwonju was also a former photojournalist like himself, it was peculiar.

Just a few years ago, when they worked together at the company, Shin Kwonju would often roam the field, capturing stories through his lens. Along with numerous awards from prestigious photojournalism competitions, the many moments he captured had both received worldwide recognition and created issues.

Even Ha Joyoon, who didn’t have much interest in such matters, had heard his name countless times; Shin Kwonju was a major figure in the field of photojournalism.

“Don’t you take photos anymore?”

The man paused while gathering clothes to change into.

“I haven’t taken photos for a while now.”

He gave a short reply before handing Ha Joyoon a T-shirt, pants, and unopened underwear. While rubbing the soft cotton, Ha Joyoon reminisced about the photos Shin Kwonju had taken.

“They were good…”

The scenes he conveyed through his photos were all intense and sharp, brutally exposing the harshness of reality and the bareness of conscience.

“…There was an incident.”

“An incident?”

Shin Kwonju, now sitting beside him, reached out. His hand, gently petting the hair that was tousled and frayed from rubbing against the sheets, was relaxed.

“Even for someone like me, when a close friend dies right next to you from a bombing, you can’t help but develop trauma.”

“Ah…”

“I don’t take many photos since then.”

Suddenly, Joyoon remembered a passing comment he had made before. He could also recall Shin Kwonju’s expression, frozen like an ice sheet, when he had said those words.

“…”

He thought it was just something he’d heard about, but was he there at the scene?

‘Trying to save someone where the shelling hit, then another shell came. Couldn’t even find a scrap of flesh.’

‘Dying is like that, Ha Joyoon. So, be thankful you’re still alive and in one piece.’

A silence where no one could rashly speak approached. Even the smallest consolation might be toxic. Suddenly, Joyoon noticed the large hand on the sheet. It was a hand that had achieved much, yet might have lost something precious. The deliberation was brief.

Without any intention, Joyoon naturally covered Shin Kwonju’s hand. The man raised his eyebrows slightly in acknowledgment. The white hand, carrying the night’s coolness, gently patted him. Shin Kwonju, who had been watching, made a strange expression. A look of disbelief quickly crossed his face. After a while, Shin Kwonju scoffed and said,

“Are you pitying me? It would hurt my pride to be pitied by Ha Joyoon, who is masochistic by hobby.”

Joyoon suddenly remembered the times he had confided in him, feeling both embarrassed and regretful, but the past couldn’t be undone. Hiding his awkward feelings with an even more awkward smile, Joyoon shook his head slightly.

“It’s not like that. Do I look like someone who would pity others?”

“Well, not really.”

“…”

When Joyoon’s expression hardened, Shin Kwonju flicked his forehead with his thick-knuckled finger. His furrowed brows snapped back to their initial state from the impact.

“There’s not really a big issue. I can start taking photos anytime, or even if I don’t, there’s no problem in pursuing the path I aim for.”

Joyoon listened intently to the man’s words. He felt strangely unfamiliar talking about such personal matters so casually. For this moment, it seemed like some of the cold, solid walls between them had crumbled.

“You’re really strong, senior. I want to overcome my problems like that too.”

“What’s stopping you? It’s funny for me to say this, but Ha Joyoon, your world is too isolated. It might be good for a dedicated journalist, but otherwise…”

“I’ve lived like this for so long. It’s hard to change suddenly.”

“That’s an excuse too.”

“Is it…”

In the quiet flowing conversation, memories gradually regressed to the past. While gently tapping the still warm cup, Ha Joyoon recalled the times he crossed paths with Shin Kwonju.

The Shin Kwonju he remembered was sharper and rougher than now. He had passion to match his coldness, and just as much pride. No matter how skilled he was or how good his background was, there were unavoidable discriminations because he was Asian. It wasn’t hard to imagine the numerous trials he must have faced to stand where he is now.

Could I also become a bit tougher and stronger, like you, by overcoming countless hardships and trials?

“Sometimes, taking a human life can be easier than tearing a piece of paper.”

He added one more sentence while pulling Ha Joyoon’s neck closer with one hand. A dazed “uh” escaped. His body, still heavy with the afterglow, easily followed the gentle tug.

“That’s why I don’t really like people in the same industry. They don’t seem like they’ll live long.”

“Senior.”

The more Joyoon was flustered, the more mischievously Shin Kwonju tilted his head, laughing, their cheeks touching momentarily, their noses gently rubbing against each other. “Open your mouth.” With the low whisper, Joyoon’s lips parted unknowingly.

Soon, their hot tongues entangled chaotically, mixing with rough breaths. Joyoon, unable to bear the weight of the body pressing against him, grabbed the front of the man’s shirt. “Mmm…” An uncontainable moan escaped through his teeth. As he gasped for breath, Shin Kwonju chuckled in his throat and bit down hard on his cheek. The sharp sensation made Joyoon’s eyes clench shut. Catching the hand that tried to push him away, Shin Kwonju whispered with a leisurely smile,

“Want to do it one more time?”

Joyoon slowly opened his eyes to meet his gaze. The eyes, filled with innate resilience and stubbornness, shone strangely. They were the eyes of someone who would never succumb to pain, no matter the scars. There was a strange certainty that even the memories of the past that now bound him would one day be overcome and broken.

In comparison, Ha Joyoon felt pathetic and sad about his own situation, where he could do nothing about the pain that worsened with each passing day.

What was lost was not just people but love, trust, hope, aspects of life, and countless memories that could not be measured by money. Joyoon looked at him silently for a long time before nodding heavily. At the same time, their lips, carrying just the right temperature, met seamlessly.

** 

Screech-

The car stopped as the brake was pressed. Joyoon, who got out of the car, approached the driver’s seat. As the tinted window went down, another figure appeared. Shin Kwonju, meeting his eyes after slightly bending forward, got irritated right away.

“Did you really have to leave in the morning?”

“That’s why I said I would go separately.”

Shin Kwonju was displeased with Joyoon trying to leave the studio apartment as soon as he woke up in the morning. His irritation from the morning was fully vented.

“I hate becoming an inconsiderate person.”

“Senior. You don’t need to worry about me.”

It seemed Shin Kwonju didn’t like Joyoon’s response; his eyes turned even colder than usual, clearly something was twisted inside him.

“Then don’t limp in front of me. I thought you were doing it to show off.”

At the provocative words aimed at him, Joyoon let out a quiet sigh.

“My knees and ligaments were messed up in the military, so my walking isn’t great. It’s not because of an accident, nor am I showing off.”

“Are you proud of being discharged due to a broken leg?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Only a few months ago, Shin Kwonju had told him something about pity or sympathy. At the time, those words seemed so unlike him, but reflecting on it now, he might have considered it differently.

Perhaps, this cold man was uncharacteristically showing pity and sympathy towards him. It was an astonishing change compared to when they first met. Of course, if he said this out loud, he’d certainly not get his money’s worth, so Ha Joyoon remained silent.

While he was lost in thought, the man who got out of the car habitually lit a cigarette. With a click of the lighter, smoke soon began to waft out.

“Senior.”

Shin Kwonju, leaning against the car and deep in thought, glanced over.

“Do you usually treat your partners well?”

“…What?”

His sharp eyes narrowed. After some thought, Joyoon carefully brought up something he had been holding onto for a while.

“I thought if you’re too kind, your partner might get the wrong idea.”

“What…” Before Shin Kwonju could protest, Joyoon quickly waved his hands.

“Ah, I don’t have the wrong idea. I understood everything you said before.”

His well-shaped eyebrows stretched like a taut bowstring. The man, about to say something, soon closed his mouth tightly and gave a slight nod.

“Then that’s good. I don’t know where you got that feeling from, but I’ve never been harsh to a partner.”

Though his tone was as indifferent as usual, the overall atmosphere he exuded felt colder than before. With a look of displeasure, he crushed the half-smoked cigarette under his shoe and quickly got back into the car.

“I’ll be going then.”

“Take care on your way home.”

“Okay.”

As he took a step forward, tilting his head, the car window rolled up at an astonishing speed. At the same time, the car started to move slowly away.

“…”

The sight of the car quickly receding felt distant. The scattered colors of emotions felt like dust settling into his irises.

I shouldn’t go further.

Murmuring to no one in particular, Ha Joyoon gripped his bag tighter. He was reminded of when he first accepted the partner proposal.

‘Just follow a few rules and keep to those parts.’

‘It’s not that hard.’

Don’t interfere in each other’s private lives and don’t get emotionally entangled. If one side wants to end it, terminate the relationship immediately, and even if there is a hint of sincerity, stop. Within those rules, treat each other with maximum courtesy.

Shin Kwonju, who spoke like it was an official clause, also adhered to what he said. He didn’t invade personal boundaries and was considerate and kind during their time together.

With a weak smile at the not-so-pleasant memory, Ha Joyoon turned towards his home, moving his heavy steps. It felt like he could fall asleep anywhere if he just laid his head down.

His body, which had long been asleep, couldn’t return to how it once was, and even a short walk was enough to make him breathless due to overworking without proper rehabilitation. He knew it was foolish. He walked a few steps, rested, and repeated this process.

“Yoon-ah!”

Hearing a familiar voice from afar, Joyoon stopped and turned around. He froze at the sight of his mother waving her hand, standing next to someone with a stern look.

…Coincidence can be so cruel; when you desperately want it, it hesitates to give even one chance, but once you’ve accepted and decided to forget, it rushes to find you.

How many months has it been?

Looking at Kang Taejung’s face shadowed by the sun, he recalled the last time he saw him. It was a hot summer night, now replaced by the late autumn where leaves endlessly flutter down.

After being told about the breakup, Joyoon hadn’t seen even a strand of Kang Taejung’s hair, to the point where it felt like the time they spent together was a lie. Perhaps a more accurate expression would be that he had completely vanished from his life as if he never existed.

“Are you heading home now?”

His mother, carrying a shopping basket, approached him with quick steps. The other person followed at a slower pace, stopping at a certain distance.

“Yeah.”

Answering gruffly, Ha Joyoon quickly picked up his luggage. His mother, whose hands were now lighter, laughed even brighter and patted her son’s back.

“Son, why have you been staying out so often lately?”