WOP Ch 8.1
by soapaHaving been busy running around on-site since morning, it was already dusk by the time he could leave work. The days were getting shorter. It was the turning point of the seasons. Thinking of the harsh winter winds that would blow in a month or two, Joyoon hurried his steps towards home. Perhaps due to fatigue, his gaze kept falling to the pavement and then back up.
[Yoon, my friend. I truly love your photos. I often admire them, they’re like works of art. People cheer for great art. But that can’t be everyday life. We have to record facts as quickly as possible. But many of the shots you chose are scenes that require deep consideration of the meaning between compositional elements. That means there are no shots suitable for the main headline.]
[Are you saying the photos aren’t sensational enough?]
[That’s not what I mean. They’re just too implicit.]
[Boyle, I just wanted to capture the scene as it was.]
[I know, Yoon. I think I understand what you wanted to convey in these photos. They might leave a lasting impression on some people, but they don’t seem to grab immediate attention. The public’s attention is fleeting and always ready to move on to the next big story.]
[…….]
[The TPA’s principle is factual reporting and excluding all personal opinions, so I want something more direct. Of course, I’m not telling you to get a scoop. We’re not that kind of news organization, are we? Don’t overexert yourself.]
Just recalling the brief argument from that morning dampened his spirits. Ha Joyoon shook his head with a hardened expression. Boyle wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean his own intentions were wrong either. Their values were simply different. He didn’t want to wallow in self-doubt.
Pausing his contemplation, Joyoon recalled the messages he had exchanged with Shin Kwonjoo that morning. It was an invitation to have dinner together that evening. Considering their busy schedules lately, which had made it difficult to find time to eat together, it was a rare occasion. He quickened his steps, wanting to see his lover as soon as possible.
“Sunbae, I’m home.”
Arriving at the front door, Joyoon rolled his stiff neck from side to side. Unadorned exhaustion seeped from the small movement. As he fully opened the door, a dark interior was revealed. His steps slowed in the stillness of the living room.
“…Sunbae?”
He called out, just in case, but there was still no response.
“He’s not home from work yet?”
A puzzled look appeared on his gentle face. That’s strange, he said he’d be home early… His curious gaze wandered around the house until it landed on the kitchen, where light spilled from under the door. Only then did Joyoon notice the rustling sounds. The space that had been filled only with silence and darkness instantly transformed. It was a place where someone existed, where warmth resided. It was strange, as he hadn’t felt any presence just moments before.
“What… smell is that?”
Just then, an unfamiliar smell wafted out. It was the smell of food, but somehow strange. Ha Joyoon wrinkled his nose, sniffing repeatedly, and walked towards the kitchen.
“Did he buy something?”
The more intense the smell became, the more peculiar his expression grew. His grip tightened on the strap of his camera bag.
“Sunbae! Sunbae!”
“Why are you calling me so desperately?”
Finally, a familiar face peeked out from the kitchen. A face he had spent so much time with, a face he could now clearly picture even with his eyes closed. His partner also seemed to have just returned from work, dressed the same as when he left, except for his loosened tie. Joyoon smiled slightly and pouted.
“When did I?”
“You sounded like you were about to cry.”
“Well, there was no one here, but there was the smell of food…”
Ha Joyoon placed his camera bag on the sofa and sniffed again. Seeing this, Shin Kwonjoo chuckled. He wasn’t a man given to dramatic reactions, but Joyoon recognized the warmth in every word and action Shin Kwonjoo directed towards him. As they shared more time, their thoughts and feelings naturally intertwined.
“You have a dog’s nose.”
“Did you buy something? It smells delicious.”
I’m hungry. Muttering as if to himself, Ha Joyoon rubbed his stomach. The kitchen, which he could partially see, was unusually messy. Plastic bags, various vegetables, and dishes were scattered about haphazardly. Trying to see what was going on, he stood on tiptoe, but a large body blocked his view.
“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
“What are you talking about? You told me not to eat before coming home.”
“Ah.”
Shin Kwonjoo, completely blocking Joyoon’s view, gestured with his chin towards the island counter on one side of the living room, wearing his usual arrogant expression.
“Sit.”
“Huh?”
“Sit down.”
“Uh, uh… what is it?”
“Wait.”
With those curt words, Shin Kwonjoo disappeared again. Even after years of living together, his reticence remained. Joyoon, left alone, didn’t ask any further questions and quietly sat down at the table.
“He’s so unpredictable…”
Ha Joyoon rested his chin on his hand and stared at the dining hall entrance where Shin Kwonjoo had disappeared. The sounds of clattering dishes and hurried footsteps suggested he was busily preparing something. Although he had known since he received the message to come straight home without eating, it seemed like he was preparing dinner. They usually took turns serving dishes prepared by Amy or takeout, so Joyoon waited patiently for dinner without much thought.
“Sunbae, is there anything I can help with?”
“No.”
A sharp refusal came from afar. He said he had an outside appointment, so did he buy something on his way home? Recalling the schedule his lover had mentioned the previous day, Ha Joyoon anticipated a small surprise. He had skipped lunch because of a busy schedule. He hadn’t even had a snack, worried he wouldn’t be able to properly enjoy dinner if he ate something beforehand, so he was hungry.
“Did you stop by a restaurant? You must have been busy.”
His head, which had been gradually tilting, finally reached almost a 90-degree angle. Whether he knew of his anticipation or not, there was no answer. The man’s presence, which he thought would reappear soon, was nowhere to be found. He even thought he smelled something suspicious, so, unable to contain his curiosity, Ha Joyoon stood up again. He wanted to see his lover’s face, even for a little while longer. Shin Kwonjoo had been busy with work lately and often came home late at night.
“Can I take a look?”
“I told you to wait.”
With uncanny timing, Shin Kwonjoo emerged into the living room, holding dishes of food in both hands. Joyoon calmly observed him. He was still handsome, but he had lost quite a bit of weight, making him look even sharper than before. Thinking of his lover, who had seemed increasingly tired and worn out lately, his heart sank. He had always thought of him as someone made of steel. I hope he isn’t struggling too much. The voice of his concerned heart was bitter. Meanwhile, the food was being steadily arranged on the table.
“Wow, what is this?”
Joyoon stopped his worries and gaped at the steaming food.
“Wait.”
As if that wasn’t all, Shin Kwonjoo made several more trips. A lavish spread quickly unfolded before him. It was clearly more than enough for two people.
“Did you buy all of this?”
“On my way home.”
“Wow… you were so busy… how did you prepare all of this?”
The table was filled with a variety of delicious-looking dishes.
Did he really get all of this takeout?
Shin Kwonjoo hated the smell of food in his car, so much so that he wouldn’t even drink his beloved coffee in it. This much food would definitely fill the car with its smell. Moreover, he had been much busier than him. Thinking of his lover buying food in between appointments, Joyoon felt a pang of emotion.
“You should have told me. We could have split up and bought it together.”
“It’s fine.”
“But why did you buy so much? It’s too much for just the two of us…”
At his astonished voice, Shin Kwonjoo scoffed and replied nonchalantly.
“We can eat it all if we take our time.”
“Still, it’s too much. Wow… salad, pasta, is this steak? Is this sweet potato noodles? It’s too much… but wow, it looks delicious.”
Ha Joyoon’s busy gaze stopped at the dish placed in the center of the island counter.
“What’s this? Sunbae, what is this dish?”
“What does it look like?”
He grinned smugly, feigning ignorance. Unable to grasp his intentions, Joyoon tilted his head. The dish in question looked vastly different from the other glossy, appetizing dishes. Its shape was strange, making it impossible to identify, and its smell was suspicious.
“I have no idea what it is…”
After pondering for a while, Ha Joyoon frowned slightly and pushed the dish in the center towards the edge of the counter.
“I think… it’s best not to eat this. Where did you get it?”
“What?”
Shin Kwonjoo stopped pouring water at the blunt assessment. One eyebrow rose towards his hairline. It was the expression he made when something was amiss, but Joyoon’s scathing review continued.
“It doesn’t smell good either… Is this burnt? Or… is it spoiled? What if you get a stomachache, Sunbae? You said you have an important appointment tomorrow.”
“…….”
“But the other dishes look delicious.”
“You…”
Shin Kwonjoo’s expression slowly but visibly distorted as the assessment continued. It was understandable that he’d be upset that the food he’d bought during his busy schedule looked like that. Joyoon, sensing the mood, offered a clumsy consolation.
“It’s okay, the other food looks fine. They look so delicious… Let’s eat everything except this dish, Sunbae.”
“What?”
“Should I take this away?”
Thump!
Finally losing his patience, Shin Kwonjoo lightly slammed the table and sat down. Joyoon blinked in surprise, looking back and forth between the dish and Shin Kwonjoo. Shin Kwonjoo swallowed silently for a moment, then pointed at Joyoon, who was standing awkwardly.
“Just sit down.”
“Huh?”
“You don’t have to take it away, just sit.”
“Did something bad happen?”
At Joyoon’s innocent expression, Shin Kwonjoo groaned and covered his forehead with his hand. Watching him, Ha Joyoon, unsure how to react, kept glancing at his lover, trying to gauge his mood. His slightly furrowed brows, twitching cheeks, and averted gaze made him look dejected. Now that he looked closely, he didn’t seem angry. It was a different emotion, not anger or annoyance.
Something like disappointment.
“The source of all my problems is right in front of me.”
“The source of all your problems? This food?”
Joyoon pointed at the unidentifiable dish, just in case. Shin Kwonjoo’s gaze followed his finger and stopped. He seemed to be controlling his temper, tightening his jaw and widening his eyes, then he pulled the dish, which had been pushed to the side, back to the center. More precisely, right in front of Ha Joyoon.
“Just eat it. Don’t leave any.”
“Huh? This?”
“Close your eyes and savor it.”
“But…”
Was there such a thing as a quiet threat? Joyoon scratched his forehead with a troubled expression as he looked at the messy dish.
“Didn’t you say you couldn’t even eat lunch properly? Anything would taste good to that empty stomach, wouldn’t it?”
“I can still tell the difference between something tasty and something that isn’t…”
“Really? Then why do you think your cooking is edible and keep trying to feed it to me?”
His tone was on the borderline between harsh and playful. An undeniable affection lingered in his critical gaze. He was scolding him, but he didn’t seem angry, and yet he clearly seemed displeased. Even after years together, Shin Kwonjoo was still a difficult person for Ha Joyoon to understand.
“It is pretty bad, actually…”
With the lighter atmosphere, Ha Joyoon chuckled awkwardly as he tore off a piece of warm bread. He remembered all the dishes he had tried to cook in the past few months, wanting to do something nice, which had all ended in failure. The man in front of him always shuddered, but never refused to eat them. He was soft and kind to him in strange ways. Remembering their reunion in Korea a long time ago, Joyoon smiled warmly.
“You finally admit it.”
“It’d be too sad if even I said it was terrible.”
“I’m glad you understand.”
“But thank you. You always ate it even though you complained. And you even prepared this for me today, even though you’re so busy…”
“…I didn’t complain that much.”
The teasing remarks stopped. Shin Kwonjoo chuckled and handed him a glass of water.
“That’s what I meant. Anyway, thank you. I know you’re busier than me.”
“You were whining on the phone in that dying voice, weren’t you asking me to take care of you?”
“Whining?”
His fair face flushed crimson. Joyoon pretended to fan his cheeks, avoiding eye contact.
“You sounded so pathetic, I thought you were going to cry.”
“Cry? No, I wasn’t.”
Joyoon recalled how he had poured out his complaints to his lover on the phone after arguing with Boyle, even though he knew how busy he was. The thought didn’t last long. Unable to overcome his embarrassment, he buried his face in his hands. Shin Kwonjoo, watching him with his chin resting on his hand, his eyes crinkling slightly.
“What was so despairing and tragic that our journalist Mr. Ha Joyoon was so down in the dumps since morning?”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
Protesting in a dying voice wouldn’t work. Shin Kwonjoo lightly flicked his finger against the white forehead peeking out from between his hands.
“Not that bad, huh? Who am I kidding? You went out singing, saying you were going to show Boyle your photos, and then you called me in that dying voice, saying ‘Sunbae, Sunbae.’ It’d be strange if I didn’t know something was wrong.”
“I said it wasn’t that bad.”
“What happened?”
“Just… nothing really happened.”
His repeated denials caught in his throat. His gaze lingered on the floor. Try this. The pleasant baritone voice was gentle. Ha Joyoon stared at the food piled up in front of him. Each dish felt like an expression of affection towards him.
“What? Did Damian say something that pierced your heart again?”
“No. And I’m used to hearing things like that from you, Sunbae.”
“Why are you suddenly bringing me into this?”
The man’s face, which had been coldly calm, crumpled strangely. It wasn’t a lie. From his internship until now, most of the words he’d heard from Shin Kwonjoo as his superior, not his lover, had been sharper than needles, piercing his heart without giving him time to feel the pain. As if playing a joke, he started to recount various episodes, but Shin Kwonjoo rubbed his forehead with an exasperated expression and waved his hand dismissively, signaling him to drop it. Joyoon continued to tease him for a few more moments before chuckling and taking a sip of water.
“I’m kidding. It’s really nothing. I was just lost in thought.”
“It must have been Damian.”
Shin Kwonjoo kept twitching one eyebrow and draped an arm over the back of his chair.
“Is this about the gun control feature article?”
“Uh…”
A comfortable silence fell, devoid of probing questions. Ha Joyoon knew that this silence was a time for him, who wasn’t good with words, to gather his thoughts. A consideration that allowed him to slowly but fully express whatever he was feeling. His cold heart slowly melted at his partner’s calm yet profound gentleness. As he nodded, Shin Kwonjoo chuckled and continued.
“I can picture it. He probably admired your photos, critiqued them, and then added, ‘Good work, Yoon. But people will eventually forget and cheer for the next big story. So don’t overexert yourself.’”
Joyoon’s eyes widened at the man’s awkward impersonation, something he never did.
“…How did you know? That’s almost exactly what he said.”
“It’s obvious what he’d say.”
Shin Kwonjoo shrugged nonchalantly.
“He’s been wearing a friendly mask in front of you, but you know, don’t you? Damian Boyle is the biggest pessimist at TPA.”
“Yes…”
“You shouldn’t dismiss Boyle’s words too easily, but you don’t have to take everything to heart either. Just filter out what’s helpful to you.”
Actually. His tightly closed lips parted slightly.
“Sensational photos… for example, more tragic and emotionally stimulating scenes, I know they will leave a stronger impression on the public. I didn’t intentionally take them, but some of my photos captured those moments, and the desk unanimously chose those photos. Even though they were my photos, I felt uncomfortable because they seemed to only evoke sensational emotions. So I suggested a different opinion to Boyle, but… he replied that no one would remember the gravity of the incident with the photos I wanted. Boyle wasn’t wrong. I agree with his opinion. I just couldn’t accept it.”
“…Hmm.”
“I know Boyle wasn’t wrong. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, experienced it myself. I also know that no incident stays in the spotlight forever. I know that someone’s tragedy can be just a few days’ news for others.”
It wasn’t anything special.
It was just a small difference of opinion between Boyle, who chose the more sensational photos for the special feature, and Joyoon, who wanted photos with a more detached perspective, during the photo selection process. It was just one of the many daily occurrences he faced as a photojournalist at a news agency, nothing more than frequent feedback. Joyoon had also spent considerable time as a TPA photojournalist, so he wasn’t easily hurt or discouraged by passing remarks. The final decision on photo editing naturally rested with Boyle, and the thoughts that had dominated Joyoon’s emotions all day were solely his own values. It was simply that his head understood one thing, while his heart felt another.
“Actually, Boyle’s words were just a trigger.”
“Hmm.”
“It suddenly made me think about the past. Looking back, I think I was too caught up in ideals and dreams.”
As a child, Joyoon loved flowers, birds, and nature. There was a time when he was fascinated by beautiful scenes captured and printed as photographs. However, somewhere he couldn’t see, flowers were trampled, birds died, and nature was destroyed. Countless people died without anyone’s attention. The shock and shame he felt when he first learned about what was happening in a foreign country through a chance encounter remained vivid even after all this time.
“It was difficult to find a balance in the middle of all that. I wondered if I was too caught up in an unrealistic sense of mission. Things like that. It’s all in the past, though.”
So many accidents happen in the world. For one person, their world collapses, and they’re left with lifelong scars, but the flood of news doesn’t allow for sufficient time to mourn. What was the way to make something linger longer in people’s minds amidst all that? The truth that needed to be remembered. The harsh reality that accompanied it. It was a question that kept growing in his mind as he spent more time on the field. As his worries deepened, a large hand patted Joyoon’s head.
“Why are you thinking about this now?”
“I was surprised at myself, too. It’s about time I got over it.”
“You’ve grown a lot, Ha Joyoon. You’ve become quite the pessimist.”
“It wasn’t anything like that.”
“Don’t overthink it. I don’t know what wonderful things the field reporters have been telling you, but…”
Shin Kwonjoo’s expression softened as he paused to gather his thoughts. He smiled, gently pushing his lover’s forehead as Joyoon stared at him intensely.
“Well, I suppose it would be difficult for anyone to easily talk about their failed past with someone looking at them like that. You probably just spouted some pretentious nonsense.”
“I’m telling you it wasn’t like that. And what do you mean, how I was looking at him…?”
“Be grateful you can’t see yourself.”
“What did I do?”
“You were like a baby duckling begging for food.”
Ha Joyoon finally let out a small laugh at the seemingly lighthearted yet weighty words.
“Everyone will forget eventually, so I don’t know why I’m still hung up on this.”
“Oh?”
“I wish someone would remember the world I see… when the photos I took, from my perspective, are rejected, it feels like, well, it’s not just a decision made at the desk, but like they weren’t even chosen by the world… like they’ll just be forgotten. I feel like I’m not fulfilling my role.”
The man, who had been listening silently, finally covered his forehead with his hand. It was a familiar expression.
“Just how amazing do you think human memory is?”
“You’re right. I can barely remember what I did yesterday.”
“Exactly. Just like how you keep attempting to cook even though you fail every time.”
“I’m getting better…”
Joyoon pouted sulkily as he stirred the Caesar salad. No matter what he said, the topic always seemed to return to his cooking, as if his partner was going to pour out all his pent-up complaints today. He was a truly merciless man.
“That’s what you think.”
“I am getting better…”
Feeling frustrated, Joyoon emptied his glass of water in one gulp. Watching him, Shin Kwonjoo ruffled his hair slightly and leaned back fully in his chair.
“Damian isn’t wrong. Most people, including you and me, get angry and sad when something unfair happens, but then when another issue arises, they shift their attention to the more sensational event. And then they forget the previous unfortunate incident as if it never happened. That’s not an issue with the article or the photos.”
It was cruel but realistic advice. However, Joyoon knew that Shin Kwonjoo wasn’t trying to hurt him.
“Yes…”
“Not everyone can remember every event that happens in the world. That’s perfectly normal and natural.”
“That’s true.”
“But it doesn’t mean they completely forget.”
“……”
At the calm words, Joyoon stared at Shin Kwonjoo for a long moment. His dark eyes, meeting his, held their usual strength. It was the conviction seen only in those who had spent a long time building their own fortress.
“Of course, some people completely forget.”
As their eyes met, Shin Kwonjoo shrugged briefly with his usual indifferent expression.
“But someone, however subtly, will remember it until the end. The time Boyle talked about, the time when everyone eventually forgets, for someone, it’s just a time when the memory is temporarily buried.”
“I agree. But it takes too long. I don’t know what to do about the things that are forgotten in the meantime.”
“You’re worrying about too many things.”
“Am I?”
“That’s unavoidable.”
“Then what should I do?”
Shin Kwonjoo chuckled at the genuine curiosity in his bright eyes. If he hadn’t known Ha Joyoon, he might have thought he was questioning or picking a fight.
You’re still as guileless as ever.
Shin Kwonjoo smiled faintly and tapped the tabletop lightly.
“That’s when the apostle of justice, TPA News reporter Ha Joyoon, makes a reappearance.”
“Huh?”
“And you show the world your photos once again. Reminding them of the memories they’ve forgotten or buried. So, how about this? ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this tragic event from the past has happened again. I’ve brought the records, so please take a look’ – while proclaiming that.”
“What’s that supposed to be?”
Joyoon chuckled weakly and shook his head. Seeing his dejected demeanor, Shin Kwonjoo reached out and grasped his thin hand.
“Then someone will remember it again.”
The playfulness had vanished from his gaze as he looked straight ahead. He patted Joyoon’s hand absently.
“If only one in ten thousand people were angered by that incident in the past when you did nothing, now one in a thousand will be angered, saddened, or remember it. Eventually, they won’t need the same level of tragedy and shock to recall the memories and emotions of that time.”
“Yes…”
“Not everyone will remember, but there will definitely be those who don’t forget.”
The rhythm of the patting hand slowly, slowly decelerated. Long, thick fingers settled between his white, thin fingers and then grasped them tightly.
“And what those people who remember again will do will be much more solid and organized than you think.”
“…Yes.”
“That’s your role. The rest is up to those who remain.”
“……”
Ha Joyoon didn’t answer anymore. He bit his lip, and warmth gathered around his eyes. He thought he had become completely hardened, but sometimes, like today, he discovered his own weakness. It was a sudden moment, like an accident occurring without warning.
“So there’s no need to be so discouraged. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. You have to diligently deliver your skillfully taken photos to the desk. Aren’t we both slaves to TPA?”
“Slaves?”
“Companies always want more than what they pay their slaves for. Isn’t that the principle of capitalism?”
He couldn’t help but laugh. Pretending to cover his face, he stealthily wiped his wet eyes and lowered his gaze.
“I know, but I keep forgetting. I keep questioning, I want to try harder, I want to change things. I think I’m too greedy.”
“Everyone has their own role, so instead of trying to constantly push your limits, focus on what you can do within your limitations. You’re old enough to understand that I’m not just talking about your physical condition, aren’t you? You’ve learned that much, haven’t you?”
“I know that much. How old do you think I am, Sunbae?”
“Definitely not your current age.”
“Wow…”
Shin Kwonjoo’s eyes were full of mischief as he glanced at Joyoon. He arrogantly lifted his chin with his arms crossed.
“Do you know why we don’t fight?”
“Because we’re considerate of each other?”
“…Are you serious?”
Feeling somewhat wronged, Ha Joyoon narrowed his eyes and retorted.
“Because I put up with all your nagging?”
“No. It’s simply because we don’t work together.”
“…Huh?”
“If you and I were on the same team, we would have fought hundreds of times a day. I would have pushed you harder than Boyle, and you would have agonized over things like today several times a day.”
“Hmm…”
It was absurd, but he couldn’t refute it. It was actually close to the correct answer. Thinking back on their past interactions, Ha Joyoon agreed with Shin Kwonjoo, his expression becoming serious.
“I think so, too.”
From past experience, Ha Joyoon knew it was impossible to argue with his lover in this state. The man, watching him sulk in silence, chuckled softly.
“A manager has to make decisions as a manager. Sometimes they follow their own values, and sometimes they go against them. Like how Boyle admires your photos but mostly reacts with cynicism.”
“Yes…”
“TPA is a news agency, so it’s relatively free from the pressure of scoops compared to other media outlets. You can express your perspective and your voice more freely. Wouldn’t it be more comfortable working with Boyle than under me?”
“That’s true.”
As Joyoon nodded vigorously, Shin Kwonjoo’s expression twisted strangely.
“Are you picking a fight?”
“You started it…”
“Even so, what’s with the eager agreement?”
Shin Kwonjoo laughed in disbelief and refilled his empty glass with water. A peaceful air, unique to those who have shared a long time together, flowed through his ordinary actions.
“Don’t change.”
His downward gaze and the hand stirring the food were simple.
“Even though I still don’t fully understand your values.”
His slow-moving dark eyes shifted forward. His gaze drifted, searching for a moment in the past beyond the present you sitting before me. It was a journey of remembering someone’s back, their unwavering steps, as they willingly ran towards the heart of the devastation, even amidst air raid sirens and missiles raining down from the sky like fireworks. There was someone like you. Back then, I couldn’t respect that person’s values. I was arrogant and immature. Now I mourn for that past self and respect the choices that were different from mine.
Shin Kwonjoo paused for a moment, choosing his words, then finally completed his sentence.
“I have a habit of desiring what I don’t have.”
What I no longer have, but you still do.
Even though I pretend to be indifferent, a feeling of inferiority remains, not because I can’t have it, but because I’ve lost it and it no longer exists. And the value that feeling holds.
A large hand patted Ha Joyoon’s cheek.
“…….”
It was a clipped sentence, but its meaning wasn’t difficult to grasp. Nodding briefly, Ha Joyoon rubbed his cheek. His lips, hidden behind his hand, formed an involuntary smile. He knew it was his lover’s way of offering comfort, harsh yet gentle.
“Let’s stop chatting.”
“Okay…”
The playful conversation ended with his curt words. At that moment, a strange annoyance flickered across Shin Kwonjoo’s face as he looked at the food.
“It’s all cold now.”
“It’s still steaming.”
“Eat it all. Don’t leave anything behind.”
“How can I eat all of this? It’s impossible.”
As Joyoon waved his hands in alarm, Shin Kwonjoo, frowning, pushed the dish he had placed in front of Ha Joyoon earlier even closer. His fierce gaze was in full superior mode. It was a forced request disguised as a suggestion.
“Really? Then at least try to finish that turkey dish.”
Ha Joyoon was shocked by the unexpected words.
“Turkey? Are you saying this ruined dish is turkey?”
“…….”
“Did Amy come by? No, Amy wouldn’t make something like this… Did you heat up that turkey dish Amy put in the refrigerator last week? It would have gone bad.”
Ha Joyoon sipped his tea with a disgusted expression. He didn’t forget to subtly push the plate away from him. He wasn’t a picky eater, but this was too much even for him.
“Enough?”
“Are you seriously asking? Now that I look at it, it looks a bit rotten. I think I’ll die if I eat this… Sunbae, just throw it away.”
“I said enough. I don’t know if you’re joking or serious.”
A dry laugh escaped Shin Kwonjoo’s lips. Joyoon knew what that expression meant. It was the expression he made when he was quite angry. Before he could even wonder why he was angry, Shin Kwonjoo stood up.
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me.”
It made no sense. Joyoon tilted his head and stood up as well.
“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to eat with me?”
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Why? I can’t eat all of this by myself.”
Silence fell. His gaze, as he turned and looked at Joyoon, was cold, even frosty. The warm air that had flowed between them moments ago had long since vanished. Ha Joyoon reached out to Shin Kwonjoo with a bewildered expression.
“Let’s eat together…”
“You’re out for the time being, so keep that in mind.”
“Out?”
He didn’t have time to ask what he meant. Shin Kwonjoo turned around quickly, sighed briefly, and left the living room. He asked again where he was going, but a snappy reply came back, telling him not to follow as he was going to change.
“Sunbae…”
Sunbae, Sunbae.
Despite his repeated, anxious calls, his lover’s cold steps didn’t stop. Completely dumbfounded by his unexpected reaction, Ha Joyoon returned to the table and sat down. He seemed genuinely upset. From past experience, it was best not to bother him when he was like this, but he couldn’t help his curiosity.
“Why is he acting like this? He looks really upset…”
His hazel eyes were filled with confusion. Ha Joyoon racked his brain, trying to figure out what he had said or done to upset his lover. Just as his anguish was about to reach its peak, a hypothesis struck him like lightning.
“Oh…”
Perhaps, just perhaps.
Considering all possibilities, Ha Joyoon leaned closer to the food with a bewildered expression and sniffed. His eyes hardened involuntarily at the distinct smell of burnt food.
“Did Sunbae make this…?”
With a suspicious look, Joyoon tore off a small piece of the ragged turkey and put it in his mouth, but he couldn’t even chew it before covering his mouth with both hands.
“Ugh…”
It was a taste he had never experienced in his life. He wasn’t a picky eater, but this was too much. How was this any different from his own cooking? Ha Joyoon looked back and forth between the turkey dish and the dressing room door where Shin Kwonjoo had disappeared, his face pale. The awful taste rising between his breaths was truly agonizing. Unable to spit it out, Ha Joyoon swallowed with all his might and drank several more glasses of water.
“What the…”
Even as his eyes and mouth crinkled in disgust, he couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up. No matter how hard he tried to think positively, it was hard to believe this dish had been bought from a store. It tasted like something even Amy couldn’t have created even if she did cartwheels and backflips. The taste was awful, but a subtle happiness spread across his slightly curved eyes.
“He said he was better than me at cooking. He criticized me so much… and this is even worse…”
Ha Joyoon grinned and stood up. Now that he had figured out what was going on, it was time to clean up the mess he had made.
“Sunbae, Sunbae.”
A whisper like a spring breeze called out to his lover. Joyoon walked cautiously towards the dressing room where Shin Kwonjoo had disappeared. He knocked lightly, but there was no response. However, he wasn’t scared or afraid like he used to be. He knew that his lover would eventually embrace him if he spoke from his heart.
“What are you doing?”
The gloom that had weighed him down all day had long since vanished. The deep wound had formed a hard scab, healed by the medicine his lover had applied.
Joyoon suddenly thought that life was like a photograph. Although it was an unchangeable record, if you examined its depths carefully, you would eventually discover the various hidden meanings, a will that eventually led you to stand up and walk towards your destination.
Leaving behind self-doubt and sadness, he would find solace and happiness in him.
“Don’t talk to me.”
Shin Kwonjoo, now changed into comfortable clothes, glared at Ha Joyoon with a fierce look for a moment before turning his head away sharply. He seemed genuinely hurt. Haha. A ticklish laugh finally escaped his lips. Pretending not to notice Shin Kwonjoo’s increasingly cold expression, Ha Joyoon gently embraced his firm body. Taking a deep breath, he smelled the familiar scent of the forest.
“Come on, explain yourself. You said you were good at cooking. You said what I made was trash. You told me to eat it myself. But what is this? This is even worse than mine. How can anyone eat this?”
Although his words sounded like a complaint, his tone was filled with laughter. At the blatant teasing, Shin Kwonjoo pushed Joyoon away, looking too defeated to even be angry. But no matter how many times he pushed him away, Joyoon’s persistent hands refused to leave his body.
“It’s better than yours.”
“Wow, at least mine was edible… This is unbelievable. Wow—”
“This is…”
Finally, Shin Kwonjoo laughed helplessly at the incessant chattering that followed him like a baby bird. There was no way a serious fight could last long between them.
“Don’t compare it to yours. And the oven malfunctioned, that’s why it’s ruined. That’s not my true skill.”
“Wow, no way. My cooking is much better…”
“Shall I be honest?”
Shin Kwonjoo turned around sharply and raised an eyebrow.
“What are you going to be honest about? You’ve been more than honest enough. Don’t.”
“You always have to have the last word.”
Their eyes met. Looking at his reflection in Shin Kwonjoo’s dark eyes, Joyoon grinned. There was a person in his eyes who looked more comfortable and happy than anyone else.
“Can I say one thing?”
“What are you going to say now?”
“Thank you, I respect you, and I love you.”
“…Ridiculous, Ha Joyoon.”
A firm hand lifted Joyoon’s chin. Warmth flowed along his gaze as he stared intently. His playfulness remained, but the sullenness had long since disappeared. Whenever, whatever happened, he was always soft towards him, and he was the same towards him.
The person who stands behind me, lifting me up whenever I waver and fall.
I, too, want to offer you my shoulder when you’re frustrated and exhausted by the daily grind.
Joyoon closed his eyes at the feeling of a thumb caressing his lips. The hot tongue invading his slightly parted lips and the firm arms around his waist gave him the assurance that he had returned to where he belonged. Their wet lips pressed and rubbed against each other repeatedly.
No matter what anyone said, it was an undeniable love.