CHAPTER 43
“Hyung, what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s happening,” he lied. He paused to collect himself and cleared his throat. “I just called to see how you were.”
“You never call just to ask how I am.”
Noeul almost laughed. “Really, nothing’s wrong. I was wondering if you’d like to come over tonight. Drinks, games… if you’re not working, of course.”
“Hyung, it’s Tuesday. I have school tomorrow.”
The disappointment that hit Noeul was embarrassingly strong. He wanted to say please. He wanted to tell him not to hang up. To come now. To stay until morning. He wanted to tell him everything that had happened and hear someone say that Chung-Hee had been wrong.
Instead, he forced his lightest, most carefree tone. “You’re so young. It’s disappointing,” he teased. “How about Friday, then? Maybe Ji-Woo can come too.”
There was a short silence.
“I don’t think you’ll last until Friday without me, hyung.”
Noeul smiled despite himself.
“I’ll be there in an hour,” Duri said.
“You have school.”
“A day away won’t destroy my future.”
“I don’t want to be a bad influence.”
“You already are.”
Noeul let out a quiet laugh. It was the first one that felt real all day. “Fine. One hour.”
After hanging up, he stared at the phone for several seconds. One hour. He had one hour to make himself look normal.
The warm water running over his body washed away almost nothing. Noeul stood beneath it longer than necessary, watching the water disappear down the drain. He brushed his teeth once. Then again. Then a third time. By the fourth, his gums were bleeding.
He stopped.
The memory remained.
Noeul gripped the sink and swallowed against the nausea rising in his throat. Maybe it was because he hadn’t eaten all day. He preferred that explanation.
His cheek was still slightly red from the slaps, and the cut on his lip was visible. He studied himself in the mirror, turning his face from side to side. A small sticker could cover the cut. The rest… he would figure out the rest.
He dressed in jeans, a gray-and-yellow shirt, and a black cardigan, then combed his hair simply. There were already plenty of beers in the fridge and a bottle of soju, so he focused on food instead.
Cooking helped.
Kimchi pancakes. Garlic soy sauce chicken bites. A simple cucumber salad.
Ordinary movements. Familiar smells. Things that required just enough concentration to keep his mind from wandering back to Chung-Hee’s office.
When the doorbell rang, the knife stopped against the cutting board. Noeul’s heart raced. He looked toward the door.
Duri.
It was Duri. Of course it was.
But his body didn’t believe him.
What if Chung-Hee had returned? What if he was standing outside instead? Worse, what if they were both there? What if Chung-Hee saw Duri and decided to punish him too?
Noeul approached the door slowly and stretched his hand toward the handle. It stopped halfway. The apartment was silent except for his shallow breathing.
He couldn’t open it.
“Hyung?”
Noeul closed his eyes.
“It’s me. Why are you taking so long?”
Duri.
The tension left his body so quickly that his knees almost weakened. Noeul opened the door.
Duri stood there holding a blue shopping bag, his expression shifting from impatience to confusion the moment he saw him. Then his gaze settled on Noeul’s face.
“I brought food and beer,” he said, suddenly more serious.
He handed Noeul the bag and walked inside.
“I made some snacks too.” Noeul turned toward the kitchen and opened two bottles of beer. He could feel Duri watching him. “It’s nothing.”
“I didn’t ask anything.” Duri put the bag on the counter. “Which means you already know what I’m looking at.”
Noeul didn’t speak.
Duri stepped closer and studied the left side of his face. “Nothing?” His voice hardened. “You call this nothing, hyung? Are you a man or a punching bag?”
He reached toward Noeul’s cheek. Noeul flinched.
Duri’s hand stopped immediately. The movement was small, but the change in Duri’s expression wasn’t.
“I fell,” Noeul said quietly.
“Fell where? On Lee Chung-Hee’s hand?”
“Duri.”
“Last time he hurt you because you fell asleep next to me. What was it this time?”
Noeul turned away. Duri stared at him for another moment before taking a step back. He didn’t touch him again.
“I met Kija,” Noeul finally said. “One of my favorite artists. We talked for a while, and somehow it upset him.”
Duri’s eyebrows drew together. “That’s it?”
“I asked Kija about private lessons. Mainly because I want Ji-Woo to join me. He needs to improve his portfolio for his university application, and Kija could help him.”
“And Chung-Hee hit you because of that?”
Noeul picked at the label on his beer bottle. “He thought Kija was interested in me.”
Duri went quiet. That answer bothered him for more than one reason.
“Was he?”
Noeul looked at him. “What?”
“Kija. Was he interested in you?”
There was something almost too casual in Duri’s voice.
Noeul narrowed his eyes. “Are you asking if I flirted with him?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Maybe.”
Noeul stared at him incredulously. “I didn’t flirt with him. I was polite. That’s all.”
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, hyung.”
“But you just asked.”
“I was curious.”
Despite everything, Noeul almost smiled. Duri took a drink of his beer and looked away.
“You can do whatever you want. Even if you had flirted with him, Chung-Hee still had no right to hit you.”
Noeul’s faint smile disappeared. He looked down at his hands.
There was more.
Duri knew there was more. The way Noeul had flinched from his touch. The delay at the door. The cut lip. The careful way he was holding himself.
But Duri didn’t ask.
Not yet.
“I didn’t flirt with Kija,” Noeul repeated. His eyes lifted to Duri. “Besides… I think there might already be someone I’m interested in.”
Duri stopped with the bottle halfway to his lips. His eyes widened slightly.
“You think?”
Noeul immediately looked away. “I said might.”
For one dangerous second, hope rose so quickly inside Duri that he hated himself for it.
“Ah.”
Noeul waited.
Duri lowered the bottle. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’m happy for you, hyung.”
The words were correct. His face wasn’t.
Noeul watched him with growing amusement. “You don’t look very happy.”
“I am.”
“You look like someone smashed your favorite guitar.”
“I don’t have a favorite.”
“Exactly. Even worse.”
Duri rolled his eyes. Noeul laughed.
“Don’t think about anything else, Duri. Let’s eat, drink, and play.”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you’ve improved since the last time we played.”
Noeul scoffed. “Prepare to lose.”
The hum of the console signaled the beginning of their gaming night. Within minutes, Duri had transformed.
“Hyung! Where are you looking? Two enemies on the left!”
“I see them! You’re the sniper. What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to hit them, but you keep getting in my way! Are you crazy?”
“I’ve got your back! They’ll surround us!”
“You’ve got my back? Hyung, you’re running straight into death!”
Noeul laughed at how seriously Duri was taking it. “It’s a game!”
“That’s something losers say.”
A character died. Then another.
Duri stared at the screen in disbelief. “See? Now we’re both dead!”
“Because you’re a terrible sniper.”
Duri slowly turned his head. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“I carried you through half the game.”
“Carried me? You got us killed!”
Duri pointed at the screen. “Because you ran directly toward them!”
“Now that the game’s over…” Noeul raised his hand threateningly.
Duri immediately jumped from the couch.
“Come here.”
“Nope.”
“You little brat!”
Duri ran around the other side of the couch, laughing.
“Who do you think you’re talking to like that? Want to die? Have you forgotten I’m older than you?”
“Oops. Sorry, hyung.” He paused. “Or maybe not.”
“Hey!”
Noeul chased him around the studio. “You think because you’re half-German you can get away with this?”
“No. I think I get away with it because you love me so much.”
Noeul slowed for half a second. Duri noticed and immediately winked, disguising the weight of the words as another joke. That only made Noeul more determined to catch him.
Moments later, he cornered Duri near the wall.
“Got you.”
Noeul raised his hand as if to strike him playfully. Duri lifted his own instinctively to protect himself. His palm landed against Noeul’s chest.
Both of them stopped. Their laughter faded.
Noeul became aware of how close they were. Duri was taller, close enough that Noeul had to tilt his face slightly upward to meet his eyes. Neither moved.
Noeul’s heartbeat quickened beneath Duri’s palm, but his body didn’t recoil. Duri swallowed. His usual teasing expression had disappeared.
Noeul knew that look. Or perhaps he was only beginning to understand it. His gaze dropped to Duri’s lips, then returned to his eyes.
Duri saw it. His own eyes flickered downward.
For one suspended second, neither seemed willing to breathe. Noeul moved almost imperceptibly closer. Duri didn’t retreat. He could smell the beer on his breath. Feel the warmth of his body.
Noeul could step away. He didn’t.
Their faces edged closer.
Then, the console beeped.
Both jumped.
Noeul stepped backward first. For a moment, neither spoke. Then he ran a hand through his hair and gave an awkward laugh.
“What the hell was that?”
Duri cleared his throat, cheeks flushed. “The game.”
“The game?”
“It distracted us.”
Noeul stared at him. “That makes absolutely no sense.”
“I know.”
A laugh escaped Noeul before he could stop it. Duri smiled too, shyly this time.
Neither mentioned what had almost happened. But when they returned to the couch, they sat closer than before.