NHL 34

Dylan watched as the long eyelashes hanging at the corners of Joeon’s closed eyes fluttered. He had already known well that Joeon was a character who was quite shy. Even so, he wasn’t particularly happy about being turned away from while he slept. He was also concerned about Joeon’s expression, which had seemed somber while they were washing up together. Still, he wondered if he should consider it fortunate that Joeon hadn’t run away in his sleep.

“Open your eyes like a man, won’t you?”

As if that remark had touched his pride, Joeon rubbed his face with his hands and soon opened his eyes wide. Having forgotten to draw the curtains, the bright morning sunlight poured over their faces. Bathed in the sun, Joeon’s pupils had a light brown hue, as if painted in watercolor. Dylan gazed down at him silently and muttered.

“Did you sleep well?”

“…Yes.”

“Me too.”

As Dylan replied while rubbing his lips against Joeon’s white, smooth shoulder, Joeon jumped in surprise and pulled the duvet up over his shoulders. Was being shy a matter of personality differences, or cultural differences? None of the partners Dylan had met before had been this shy. It didn’t just seem like shyness; it almost looked as if he regretted what had happened last night.

Since there were moments when Joeon had approached him aggressively, he hoped that wasn’t the case at all. Dylan also lacked technical confidence, as this was his first time dealing with a man. It couldn’t be that he was dissatisfied because of that, could it? It was, at most, only petting.

“What would you like for breakfast? Cereal? Pancakes?”

Dylan asked, struggling to ignore his thoughts that were veering in an odd direction.

“…What time is it now?”

Startled, Joeon turned his head. His voice, hoarse from moaning last night, sounded quite sexy. Dylan reached for the drawer to check the time on his phone.

“It’s eight o’clock.”

“Ah….”

Joeon, who let out a long sigh mixed with relief, turned to lie on his side facing Dylan after much deliberation. As a result, the bathrobe, which was already on the verge of slipping off entirely, became a chaotic mess. Dylan gathered the lapels of the robe and covered Joeon’s shoulder, which was exposed to the air, so he wouldn’t be cold.

“My phone… is it over there?”

“It should be in the living room. Shall I bring it to you?”

“Yeah.”

Joeon nodded, hiding his face inside the duvet. He was asking with such a cute attitude, so what choice did he have?

Dylan got up, found the phone inside Joeon’s coat, and brought it back.

“Do you have to go to work today by any chance?”

“…You’re asking quite early. If you had checked in advance last night, would you not have tormented me so persistently?”

“My goodness. Naturally. No, I can’t say for sure, though.”

Joeon muttered while tapping away at his phone.

“It’s fine. I can just call in a sick day saying I have a cold. It’s the end of the year anyway, so nobody will care.”

Watching those brilliantly shining light-brown pupils narrow into thin slits, Dylan savored a slice of a peaceful morning.

The way his messy hair covered his forehead, his lips sticking out like a duck’s while he concentrated on messaging his manager, the sunlight that warmly heated all those scenes, and the clear winter sky without a single cloud were blurring the boundaries between reality and unreality.

Soon, Joeon, who had put down his phone and met Dylan’s gaze, buried his forehead into the duvet again and groaned. Dylan bit his tongue to keep the questions hovering in his mouth from slipping out. Seeing Joeon, who unlike himself seemed not at all pleased with this morning, made his heart flutter with anxiety for no reason.

Just then, Joeon thumped his forehead onto Dylan’s chest.

“…Are you good at making pancakes?”

A muffled voice came from inside the duvet. Dylan pulled the head that was as fuzzy as a puppy’s fur into his arms and pressed his lips against it.

“Of course. It’s a skill verified by my nieces and nephews. Coffee? Or juice?”

“Coffee.”

“Understood. Come out slowly.”

Dylan whispered in a lighthearted voice and left the room. It was only after all signs of life had vanished that a face popped out from the bedding. Joeon stared toward the kitchen, where the sound of clattering could be heard, and slowly sat up.

“…Like a man.”

Joeon slapped his own cheeks with his palms to wake himself up.

“Get a grip.”

After that, as he was picking up his underwear to put it on, Dylan returned with some comfortable clothes in his hands.

“Wear these.”

“Ah, thank you.”

Joeon, feeling shy about being in his underwear, snatched the clothes from his hand and put them on in a hurry. He had intended to move quickly, but in reality, his movements were very clumsy.

When he finished washing his face in a rush and came out, Dylan, who was in the kitchen, turned back to look at Joeon while brewing coffee.

“You haven’t dried yourself off completely.”

“Ah, I did this because I thought it might wake me up a bit.”

“Shall I wake you up?”

Joeon looked at him with wary eyes, fearing Dylan might use some shock therapy like a surprise physical touch. However, contrary to his worries, Dylan passed by Joeon, entered the dressing room, and came back out.

“What is it?”

“This.”

Dylan raised his fist and held it out. In the hand he thought was empty, there was a small, candy-like object of unknown origin. The moment he held it right in front of his nose, the smell of ammonia pierced his nostrils. It was a sharp and stimulating scent that seemed to penetrate all the way to his brain.

Seeing Joeon let out a shriek, Dylan clutched his stomach and laughed. Like a child who had succeeded in a childish prank, he was sitting on the floor, bursting into a fit of laughter. Thanks to that, Joeon almost fell backward off his chair.

“What is that? What on earth is this smell?”

“This is smelling salt, ammonium carbonate crystals.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s what athletes sniff to focus before a game starts. The smell is intense, so it really wakes you up when you sniff it.”

“I told you, coffee is enough for me!”

Dylan laughed for a long time, even wiping away the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes because Joeon’s reaction had been so funny.

“I’ll brew the coffee in a moment. In the meantime, if you want to wake up, sniff this.”

While Dylan, who had started the process of making pancakes in earnest, had his back turned, Joeon sneakily picked up the smelling salt and took a sniff. It was certainly a powerful ammonia scent that was perfect for snapping a groggy mind into alertness. Joeon hid the object in his pocket, vowing to himself that he would have his revenge someday.

Dylan’s pancakes were extremely delicious, and the hand-brewed coffee was also top-notch. On the last day of the year, he ended up taking an unplanned vacation, but it wasn’t as bad as he had thought.

He had believed that there was a certain charm to going to work at the end of the year when everyone else was resting, but now that he was actually taking a break, he couldn’t feel more at ease.

“When is your next game?”

“There’s no game until tomorrow. I’ll have to go the day after, though.”

“Is it in Toronto?”

“Yes, fortunately.”

Dylan flipped a pretty, perfectly round pancake and sat across from Joeon. That was the last of the batter.

“But I have to get on a plane as soon as the game ends. I have to go to the Midwest.”

Joeon nodded slowly.

“But I’ll be playing in Toronto again.”

When he lifted his head at the somewhat dejected voice, he saw Dylan’s face, which was as dark as his gloomy tone. For some reason, it felt like an atmosphere where he needed to comfort him. Joeon needlessly combed his hair back with his hand and said in a composed voice.

“If I can see you then, I’ll go watch.”

“Would you really?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Dylan’s voice, which had visibly brightened, responded immediately. Although Dylan had seemed to have a tendency to hide his inner feelings somewhere, he showed a quite honest reaction today.

Joeon didn’t want to disappoint him, so he answered that he would gladly do so.

Dylan firmly refused and pushed away Joeon, who was rushing to help with the cleanup. A while later, he found him lying comfortably on an armchair by the window, exhausted from snooping around various parts of the house. Joeon had fallen into a nap. Dylan pulled over a nearby stool and sat beside him.

His partner, who was quite physically weak, had fallen into a deep sleep, exhausted even by just the light petting from last night. To be exhausted by just that much. He was worried about things to come.