Chapter 19

Did he come straight here after going to Dongducheon?

Stepping closer to the table, Shin asked in a low rasp, “Why did you drink this much?”

“…I just wanted to have a drink, Shin-ah,” Se-woong whispered softly.

Whether it was because of the alcohol, Se-woong smiled just as he used to in the past, and Shin offered a soft smile in return.

In the nearly ten years Shin had known Se-woong, the only times he had seen him drink to intoxication were within the past year—more precisely, since last autumn. Even then, it had only happened a handful of times. The very last occasion had been the day they broke up.

Had they broken up? Was it truly over between them?

Shin caressed Se-woong’s flushed, feverish cheek with a cool palm. The skin yielding beneath his touch felt just as he remembered—supple, soft, and soothingly cool.

Lightly stroking the warm cheek, Shin murmured, “If you wanted a drink, you should have called me, Woong-ah.”

“Ah… huh?” Se-woong stammered, blinking sluggishly.

The gentle, compliant curve in Se-woong’s eyes shifted in a split second. With his mouth slightly agape in bewilderment, he slowly pushed himself upright.

A dazed murmur spilled from his lips. “Uh… ah…”

Through the drunken haze, Se-woong seemed to have believed he was looking at an illusion, only now realizing with sudden clarity that the person sitting before him was real.

Watching Se-woong blink sluggishly in a bid to clear his head, Shin pulled out the adjacent chair and sat down. He gently took the empty cup from Se-woong’s fingers and slipped a glass of water into his hand instead. Left out at room temperature for too long, the water from the pitcher had gone tepid.

Shin settled into the seat and asked, “When did you get here?”

“Ah… Were you supposed to meet Min-hyung?” Se-woong murmured, his eyes darting away in confusion. “In that case, I should get up—”

“Min-hyung isn’t coming. And even if she did, so what? Why would you have to leave just because she arrives?” Shin countered.

Se-woong brought the water glass to his lips. Tepid and flavorless, it felt hardly different from alcohol. Finding it difficult to swallow, he merely moistened his lips before setting the glass back down.

Today of all days, he truly hadn’t wanted to face Shin. That was why he had avoided returning to headquarters, going out of his way to steer clear—yet the sanctuary he had retreated to was this very place. Apart from those in Shin’s circle, he didn’t have a single friend he could turn to at a time like this, a realization that left him feeling utterly pathetic.

Throughout all those long years, did I truly have no one except Shin?

Even so, he couldn’t dismiss Hyun-woo as merely Shin’s friend. Having spent years in close company, Hyun-woo had become a cherished companion to Se-woong as well. That was why, on a night like this, Hyun-woo had been the only one who came to mind.

They might have already slept together, you know.

At the lingering echo of that voice, Se-woong’s entire face contorted. Remaining at Shin’s side, how much more of this indignity would he have to see and hear?

By nature, Shin had never been driven by desire. Simply put, his disposition was such that there were few things he ever truly coveted or cared to do. The same held true for basic physiological needs: he endured sleep deprivation reasonably well, and he rarely craved any particular food.

Yet when it came to sexual desire, the story changed entirely. As though his indifference to all other appetites served only to concentrate his focus, he was remarkably particular and utterly relentless about sex. Being a virile young man in his prime, Se-woong certainly enjoyed sex himself, but his enthusiasm was nothing compared to Shin’s tenacity.

Back when they were lovers, Se-woong had naively laughed it off, assuming Shin’s boundless libido simply stemmed from being in love. In retrospect, perhaps Shin had simply loved sex for its own sake. One only had to consider the colorful romantic history he boasted before ever meeting Se-woong.

Yes, so that made sense. He could easily sleep with a woman from a matchmaking date. Shin had never been gay to begin with; he was simply seeing women now.

He understood it in his head, yet the more he dwelled on it, the more his stomach churned with nausea.

This was precisely why he could never remain friends with Shin. What kind of friendship twisted one’s gut and stirred up a wave of sickening revulsion simply because the friend was dating someone?

Even as he hoped Shin would date and eventually marry, he had no wish to witness it with his own eyes. That was why he had wanted to transfer as far away as possible, to a distant post where no news of Shin could reach him, hearing only the occasional faint rumor through mutual acquaintances. That was how he had wanted to live.

Se-woong poured the soju until it brimmed over the rim of the glass and knocked it back in a single gulp. Just as he moved to refill the empty vessel, a large hand blocked it.

Shin clamped a firm hand over the glass, his brow furrowing. “Cha Se-woong. You’ve had too much.”

Those quiet words instantly ignited an unbidden surge of defiance in Se-woong’s chest.

Then what about me? Was I just born lusting after men?

With a sharp swat, Se-woong shoved Shin’s hand away. Seeing the displeased grimace crumple Shin’s features offered him a fleeting, perverse sense of relief.

“Is this how friends normally act, meddling in whether you drink or not?” Se-woong scoffed, his voice laced with venom. “As you well know, I don’t have many friends.”

Shin fell silent, holding his gaze in the heavy stillness. “…”

“Aren’t friends supposed to drink with you when you say you want a drink?” Se-woong challenged, glaring across the table. “Where did Hyun-woo go?”

With the very hand Se-woong had brushed aside, Shin touched the corner of his lower lip. He pressed so hard that the skin blanched white wherever his thumb trailed.

Just then, the sliding door rattled wide open without warning. Having wrapped up his urgent tasks, Hyun-woo stepped inside with an audible sigh of relief.

Catching his breath as he took in the scene, Hyun-woo marveled in disbelief, “Hey, Lee Shin! Are you out of your mind? What the hell is going on here?”

“It isn’t,” Se-woong replied curtly.

Hyun-woo threw his hands up in mock defeat. “Not at all? Why so deadpan, Cha Se-woong?”

Having answered Hyun-woo’s fuss with flat finality, Se-woong rested his face upon his folded arms and slumped forward. Though he had spoken clearly with perfect articulation only moments ago, his broad shoulders heaved with a deep, shuddering sigh before caving in, as if a sudden wave of drowsiness had finally overcome him.

“I’ve never seen him drink like this,” Hyun-woo commented, shaking his head. “He usually just nurses a single drink—what possessed him to down this much today?”

Shin ignored the remark and demanded, “When did he get here?”

He pressed Hyun-woo for the answer he had failed to draw from Se-woong.

“Not that long ago. He’d already had a drink somewhere before coming here,” Hyun-woo answered with a shrug. “He wasn’t that drunk when he walked in, but the alcohol suddenly hit him all at once.”

Where on earth did you drink before this? You never enjoyed drinking alone. Why do things I know nothing about keep happening, Woong-ah?

Hyun-woo insisted Se-woong hadn’t been heavily intoxicated upon arrival, but that was only because Hyun-woo had failed to notice; Se-woong had likely arrived already fairly drunk. Cha Se-woong had zero tolerance for liquor, unable to finish even a single bottle of soju.

Pitying the sight of Se-woong clutching the soju glass so tightly, Hyun-woo reached out to take it from his grip. Shin slapped his wrist away with vicious force.

“Ouch! That actually hurt, you bastard,” Hyun-woo yelped, clutching his wrist.

Glaring down with ice-cold detachment, Shin demanded, “Then why are you touching him? I warned you before: guard those hands.”

“Ah, for fuck’s sake! How is that pawing at him—?” Hyun-woo spluttered, catching himself before lowering his voice. “…I was just looking out for him.”

His rising voice dropped to an abrupt hush upon catching sight of the drunken guest breathing softly before them. Shin quietly confiscated the glass trapped within the limp grasp. Stripped of the cup, Se-woong’s hand dropped to the table with a soft thud.

“Did he say anything else?” Shin pressed in a low voice.

Hyun-woo scratched the back of his neck. “What else would he say? He’s hardly a chatterbox to begin with. He just kept smiling and drinking. Why would I pry? I figured it was either trouble with you or something at the Joint Chiefs. I just assumed things were rough for him and kept him company.”

At the mention of Se-woong smiling while drinking, Shin clicked his tongue with sharp irritation.

Even when Se-woong had been saddled with a miserable commanding officer in the field and ground down for an entire year until the bastard was reassigned, he had never once let on that things were difficult or painful. Whenever they met on weekends, Se-woong had merely collapsed into bed and slept like a corpse; sensing something was amiss, Shin had only learned the truth after running into a KMA senior from that same unit. From that point on, Shin had watched over Se-woong’s circumstances with even greater care.

Therefore, by all reasonable estimates, the Task Force wasn’t the issue. The ongoing state of emergency was hardly a walk in the park, but it wasn’t so overwhelming that Se-woong would need to drown his stress in alcohol like this.

If not that, had his thoughts become complicated after Shin’s father dropped by headquarters today? Beyond that, nothing else came to mind.

If his father were indeed the cause, Shin didn’t feel entirely displeased. Being conscious of his father meant Se-woong was conscious of him. In one way or another, Shin wanted Se-woong to be thinking of him during every waking hour—whether those thoughts brought torment or tender affection.

I won’t tolerate him pulling away under the fucking pretext that we broke up. I didn’t agree to break up for that.

“Ah! He did say one weird thing,” Hyun-woo piped up, snapping his fingers. “He kept rambling that every single promiscuous bastard should be thrown into the stockade.”

“Pro… miscuous people?” Shin muttered, his brow furrowing in utter bewilderment.

Leaning in closer with a heavy sigh, Hyun-woo urged, “Listen, Lee Shin. I don’t know what’s going through that head of yours, but don’t push Woong too hard. I’m Cha Se-woong’s friend too, and watching him suffer breaks my heart.”

His voice sounded genuinely pained. Unbelievable… Whose friend is he supposed to be, anyway?

“Hyun-woo, what about Se-woong cornering me? Doesn’t watching me go through that break your heart at all?” Shin asked flatly.

“You, you prick, you… fine!” Hyun-woo threw up his hands in exasperation. “Of course it breaks my heart. It hurts like hell! My chest is practically torn to shreds, alright? My heart is bursting at the seams because of you two bastards!”

“If he ever comes here alone again, contact me first. Don’t stay locked up in an enclosed room alone with him like this,” Shin instructed coolly.

Gasping in outrage, Hyun-woo barked back, “Fuck off! Last time you threw a fit complaining the ceiling was too low, so we moved to the annex!”

Before Hyun-woo’s voice could escalate again, Shin raised a finger to shush him, but right then someone tapped lightly on the sliding door frame. The accented voice calling out “Sah-jah-im!” belonged to his competent Vietnamese employee. Far more diligent than he appeared, Hyun-woo sprang to his feet at the summons and bolted outside.

The thin door slid shut once more, leaving only the two of them inside the small room. With the tender care one might show fine silk threads, Shin gently brushed back Se-woong’s slightly disheveled hair.

“Woong-ah,” Shin murmured, leaning close to his ear, “let’s go home.”