Chapter 39

He woke up after having a long, intense dream.

Unable to remember what the dream was even about, Jo Yeon-oh furrowed his brow. Once again, he was left with the hollow sensation of having let something incredibly precious slip right through his fingers.

As if entirely indifferent to Yeon-oh’s lingering sentiment, a gentle breeze spilled through the living room window. He felt as though if he opened his eyes, he would see sheer curtains swaying lazily in the wind.

The sound of someone shouting on the television reached his ears. Judging by the hyper-excited tone, it sounded like a sports broadcast, though he had no idea what match was playing. Jo Yeon-oh’s consciousness was returning at a sluggish crawl, barely managing to process even that much.

Eventually, he opened his eyes. It didn’t feel like evening; in fact, it was clearly the middle of a bright spring day. Inside the unlit room, instead of suffocating sunlight, a cool breeze drifted in and out.

A familiar scent, a familiar space.

He was in the living room of So Gi-hyeon’s apartment.

“You’re awake?”

An icy drop of water fell onto his forehead. Scowling as if blinded by a sudden burst of light, Yeon-oh wiped his forehead. His blurry vision focused on the condensation-covered bottom of a beer can hovering right above him.

Jo Yeon-oh was currently resting his head on Gi-hyeon’s lap. The moment he realized this, he saw So Gi-hyeon sitting right above him, casually drinking a beer. Jo Yeon-oh blinked blankly. He simply couldn’t comprehend the current situation.

He distinctly remembered returning to Seoul from Namhae, but…

Everything after that was a complete blackout. He tried to force the memories to surface, but absolutely nothing came to mind, and the effort only triggered a sharp headache, making him groan softly. Hearing the sound, Gi-hyeon—whose thigh Yeon-oh was currently using as a pillow—looked down and carelessly wiped away another drop of water from Yeon-oh’s forehead. It had clearly dripped from the edge of Gi-hyeon’s beer can.

Staring at the still thoroughly confused Yeon-oh, Gi-hyeon asked a question, “What are you making for dinner.”

“…What?”

“You said you’d cook for me after you woke up.”

…Did I actually say that? Staring at Yeon-oh, who was wearing an uncharacteristically stupid expression, So Gi-hyeon spoke with his usual, blunt tone.

“You’ve been like this for a while now. You said you had a killer headache, are you feeling better?”

For someone expressing concern, the tone was aggressively flat. But knowing that this was Gi-hyeon’s unique, awkward brand of affection, Yeon-oh only felt even more dazed. He had absolutely zero memory of how he had ended up here.

In order to flush out the remaining traces of the rut-inducer from his system, Jo Yeon-oh had been injected with suppressants and hooked up to a continuous IV drip while lying in the bed of his own estate.

Manager Yoo had been standing right there watching over him, so how the hell had he ended up here? Having no idea how much time had even passed, he blinked blankly a few more times before finally sitting up.

Rising with a mild headache, Jo Yeon-oh confirmed he was indeed in Gi-hyeon’s apartment. Wearing an expression of utter nonchalance, Gi-hyeon was sipping his beer while watching a rerun of an Arsenal match.

Staring blankly at Gi-hyeon, a sudden realization slammed into him.

“…What the hell is this on your neck.”

He reached out blindly, his fingertips brushing against the nape of Gi-hyeon’s neck. Because Gi-hyeon had naturally fair skin, his neck was exactly as soft as it looked. Except for the brutal teeth marks stamped directly into the flesh.

The vivid marks were a furious red, looking as though he had just been violently bitten. Flashing an annoyed scowl, Gi-hyeon lifted his uninjured leg and kicked Jo Yeon-oh hard.

“You’re the one who bit me the second you walked through the door, you son of a bitch.”

“…I did?”

“What’s wrong with you today? Go make dinner. I’m starving.”

Reacting purely on reflex to Gi-hyeon saying he was hungry, Jo Yeon-oh stood up, yet he remained frozen in place with a deeply vacant expression for quite some time.

He only snapped out of it when Gi-hyeon shoved him, complaining that he was blocking the goalpost on the TV screen. Pondering something intensely for a moment, Yeon-oh eventually shook his head and slowly let his expression relax.

Then that really must have been a dream.

The horrifying residual images that had haunted him the moment he woke up were clearly nothing but false memories. Seeing So Gi-hyeon’s perfectly fine face completely solidified that conclusion. Reaching out, Yeon-oh aggressively ruffled Gi-hyeon’s hair and threw out a casual barb.

“If you’re Korean, you should be cheering for Tottenham.”

With that, he cracked his stiff neck, stretched lazily, and sauntered into the kitchen. He figured it wouldn’t be too late to investigate exactly what the hell happened after he fed Gi-hyeon an early dinner.

Whatever happened in Namhae, and exactly how he ended up here, could wait until after they ate. …The real problem is that I spent the night with someone who wasn’t So Gi-hyeon, but I can’t even confirm that for sure, and it’s giving me a massive headache. Desperately fighting down a wave of nausea, Jo Yeon-oh grabbed the top edge of the refrigerator door and pulled it open. He practically had to bend in half to inspect the vegetable crisper drawer at the bottom.

And because of that…

“What do you want to eat.”

He didn’t see the expression So Gi-hyeon made when he asked that question.

“…Whatever.”

He didn’t know what Gi-hyeon was thinking when he tossed back that blunt reply.

“I’m making strong soybean paste stew. We’ll eat it with lettuce wraps. You never eat enough vegetables.”

He didn’t see the true face of So Gi-hyeon, who was staring blankly at the TV without a single reaction, even as his favorite team scored a spectacular goal.

Jo Yeon-oh simply didn’t know.

***