“You’re really soaked…”
“Are you inviting me up?”
“…Yes.”
“Wow…”
Cheong-o covered the line of his mouth with a big hand, looked straight ahead, then looked back up at Se-hyeon, tilting his head slightly toward the firmly shut door.
“You go in first.”
“Y-yes.”
With the window sliding up, Cheong-o disappeared from view. The obedient guide waited quietly under the building for the esper who would return soon.
Hand on his head, Cheong-o approached at a quick pace, and when he reached the door and shook off the water, Se-hyeon held out the handkerchief as if he’d been waiting.
Opening the door, the security office was right in front of them. The small window was open, but no voices came from inside, and as he tilted his head, Se-hyeon put a finger to his lips and gestured. Quick to catch on, Cheong-o stuck close to Se-hyeon and passed the entrance, getting into the elevator.
“Is this really okay?”
“Normally outsiders have to sign in at the security office…”
“What happens if we’re caught?”
“Just a warning, that’s all.”
A cheerful mechanical chime rang. Se-hyeon got off first, checked the hallway, then gestured to Cheong-o. Cheong-o was enjoying this situation. Se-hyeon hurried to the door, punched in the code, and opened it for him.
Cheong-o stepped into the entryway of a place he’d expected to visit someday—much sooner than expected—and the whole home came into view at once. Se-hyeon closed the door with an awkward face, went inside first, and offered Cheong-o the only pair of slippers.
“I’ve never… brought anyone home, so there’s only one pair of slippers. These are mine, but if you don’t mind, please wear them.”
“What about you?”
“I clean every day, so it’s fine.”
“Then I’ll just go in as I am, and you wear these.”
“But you’re the guest…”
“Excuse me, then.”
In the end, the slippers returned to their original owner. Since getting his own room, this was the first time he’d let anyone into his space. And of all people, it was Cheong-o…
Even in the bathroom where he’d gone to wash his hands, there was only one pair of slippers. Flustered, Se-hyeon quickly washed his hands and came out, stealing glances at Cheong-o. The slippers that had fit the owner perfectly couldn’t contain the stranger’s feet—his heels stuck out.
It felt strange. Cheong-o washing his hands in the bathroom he’d used alone, the slippers he’d worn alone now under a stranger’s feet. At the pointing finger asking, as if for permission, whether he could use the towel the owner had been using, Se-hyeon hurriedly took out a fresh towel.
Cheong-o dried his hands with it and wiped the rainwater from his hair. Turning his back on the man who kept stealing glances at him, Se-hyeon poured water into the prettiest, cleanest-looking cup among the identical cups.
“This place is nice—you can see the whole home at a glance.”
“…”
“Thanks for the water.”
Cheong-o took the cup offered with both hands in one hand and drained it in one go. Se-hyeon, taking the cup back with both hands, lowered his eyes in embarrassment.
At the remark about seeing the whole home at a glance, Cheong-o’s home came to mind. Cheong-o’s home had many rooms, and was enormous to match.
By contrast, his own home was just a studio. A studio where you could see the whole layout the moment you opened the door.
The Center subsidized it, and he’d stayed to save money—he’d always thought it was plenty for one person—but suddenly it felt shabby, and his face burned.
“My clothes are wet, so the sofa’s out. I’ll just sit here for a bit and then go.”
“…Want some clothes?”
“They won’t fit.”
Cheong-o compared his bulk to Se-hyeon’s. Maybe from the rain, Se-hyeon’s skin looked paler than usual as he dug through the closet. Straining and digging into the corners, Se-hyeon came back hugging a black short-sleeved shirt.
“I bought it by mistake, and I was too lazy to exchange it, so I kept it. These pants are the biggest I own, but if they’re too small… hmm…”
“Are you quitting your job tomorrow?”
“What are you talking about? Change in the bathroom.”
“Why are you being so nice to me? Inviting me up, lending me clothes. You’re not going to tell me to stay the night?” It was a joke, but Se-hyeon just turned his head away. Prickly. The clothes supposedly bought by mistake smelled good—as if they’d been laundered. Cheong-o, nose buried in the shirt, went into the bathroom and took off his wet clothes.
While Cheong-o changed, Se-hyeon washed the cup, set the air-conditioning low, and rubbed at his chest.
Having someone in the home that had always been his alone—nervousness and novelty at once.
Click. The bathroom door opened, and a familiar-yet-strange figure entered Se-hyeon’s view. The top was fine, better than expected. The problem was the bottom. The thigh area that had been loose on him clung tight, the firm flesh fully on display.
Strictly speaking, the thighs weren’t even the problem. The biggest problem at this moment was…
What his gaze caught naturally was the groin. The short sleeve that had covered Se-hyeon’s whole backside barely reached Cheong-o’s hips, making the embarrassing center even more prominent.
His eyes, with nowhere to go, rolled around. Cheong-o, shifting his legs as if the tight pants were uncomfortable, sat in the chair. Se-hyeon couldn’t believe whether what he’d just seen was really what he thought it was, and his throat closed.
“When’s this rain going to stop?”
Distracted by someone else’s groin, he hadn’t even noticed the rain getting heavier. Trying to think of something to say, Se-hyeon remembered that neither of them had eaten dinner yet.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“A little?”
“I’ll make dinner.”
“I’m getting a little scared now.”
“I made the side dishes for myself, so they might not suit your taste.”
“I’d eat them happily if you gave me rocks.”
Not wanting to waste the chance given him in this awkward situation, Se-hyeon took out all the side dishes he’d made for his packed lunches, transferred them to dishes, and ferried them busily.
The table was a feast in an instant. There wasn’t enough rice left in the cooker for himself, so he took out frozen rice too, and only then was dinner complete.
He piled all the rice from the cooker into Cheong-o’s bowl and set the warmed frozen rice in front of himself, when a big hand appeared out of nowhere and swapped the bowls. Cheong-o spoke to the flustered Se-hyeon.
“Keep only what you’ll eat and pass the rest to me.”
“…You’re the guest, so I’ll eat that.”
“It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Still…”
“No arguing. Pass the rice.”
His lower lip curled inward. Scooping half the heaped rice with his spoon and moving it over, Se-hyeon felt a little sorry watching Cheong-o start eating rice from a storage container instead of a bowl, the guest that he was.
There was nothing more he could do here, so he replaced his thanks by pushing the side dishes toward him.
Though the side dishes were made purely for the owner’s palate, no one complained through the whole meal.
Knowing better than anyone that his digestion wasn’t strong enough to match the other’s pace, Se-hyeon finished at his usual speed, then stood when he saw the chopsticks heading for another dish, as if what had been served wasn’t enough.
“Those are ones I touched, so wait a moment. I’ll get fresh ones.”
“Don’t be silly. There’s plenty left. I’ll just eat this.”
“No, those are the ones I ate from…”
Half-standing, Se-hyeon lost his words watching Cheong-o eat without hesitation the foods his chopsticks had touched.
…He ate what I ate, and he doesn’t care?
Cheong-o drained his cup after cleanly finishing both the share set aside for him and the share Se-hyeon had put out for himself. Watching him with wondering eyes, Se-hyeon then imagined himself eating someone else’s leftovers from an empty table—and his stomach churned, so he hurriedly drank cold water.
While Se-hyeon, imagining something that would never happen, kept drinking cold water to settle his roiling stomach, Cheong-o cleared the table.
“I’ll do it. Don’t.”
“I have to pay for the meal. You just sit and watch.”
“Pay for the meal?”
“I ate your food.”
“I didn’t give it expecting anything.”
“That’s more suspicious.”
“What is now?”
“What you’re trying to get from me.”
Se-hyeon, who hadn’t understood the gesture of raising an arm to cover his chest, stood blankly for a moment, then scrunched his face.
“Hah…”
As if fed up, Se-hyeon went into the bathroom, and the broad shoulders shook with quiet laughter for a long time. Leaning against the firmly shut door with a sigh, Se-hyeon bit his toothbrush, listening to the sounds of the dishes being washed.
That man—his whole life is a joke. Whatever I do, whatever I show him, it’s all a joke to him. He’ll never know what kind of heart I had when I invited him up, what kind of heart lent him clothes, what kind of heart served him dinner.
His insides boiled. The hand brushing his teeth pressed too hard, stabbing the inside of his cheek with a pain too quiet to make a sound, then quickly eased. The tears gathered in his big eyes vanished with one face-wash.
Water running down his chin fell into the sink. Staring into his own wet face in the mirror, Se-hyeon flinched at the sound of knocking. Hastily wiping the water off, he opened the door to find Cheong-o, changed back into his clothes.
“I ate your food, so I thought I should at least say goodbye.”
“Ah…”
“I did my best, but I don’t know if you’ll be satisfied.”
His thumb indicated the direction; a glance showed the neatly arranged dishes. The black eye turned to Cheong-o.
“I’m going, so call me if anything happens.”
“…”
“See you at the Center tomorrow.”
Cheong-o crammed his feet into his shoes and opened the door. The door, with no special lock, opened very easily.
Watching the retreating back grow distant, Se-hyeon felt a panic he didn’t understand. Forgetting the slippers even existed, he grabbed the closing door.
“Um…!”
The eyes of two different colors looked at the moving lips—and at the bare feet stepping on the floor, in someone whose life revolved around cleanliness. Se-hyeon seemed not to know himself what he was doing.
“I-it’s too late… I mean, it’s too late, so…”
Bumbling, eyes wandering in confusion. Confirming there was no sign of anyone in the other rooms, Cheong-o stepped closer to Se-hyeon.
“You still have to go to work tomorrow… and the Center’s close from here…”
“Yeah.”
“Driving at night is… dangerous…”
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