Ch 31

“…Sleeping together during a rut and being a rut partner aren’t any different, are they? It’s not like sleep aids are good or anything. So why take them? You have me. Then, why did you pretend it wasn’t true after sleeping with me in France?”

“Because you didn’t remember. I thought you’d run away if I pretended to remember.”

Ji-an’s heart quivered, and it felt like his breath was caught in his chest. He suppressed his emotions as much as he could to ask the question, but the answers that came back were far too simple and straightforward.

Avoiding Ideun’s gaze, Ji-an picked up his spoon again. He couldn’t blame someone who didn’t know anything. After making a voluntary choice, was he pathetic for not being able to escape and being dragged into his bedroom? Or was Ideun, who believed he had taken sleep aids purely to endure his rut, the pitiful one?

If he didn’t step forward now to act as a rut partner, it was obvious someone else would end up being dragged into his bedroom.

“If I sleep with you and become your rut partner, what will you do for me?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I’m going to get clothes, a watch, and my driver’s license, so buy me a car too. You’re loaded, after all.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah. But don’t fall for me. If you do, the moment you like me, this relationship ends. But you wouldn’t fall for me anyway, so we can keep this going for a while. Right?”

Though there was no answer, Ji-an took his silence as affirmation.

Unlike the lively laughter and chatter at other tables, Ji-an and Ideun finished their meal quietly and slowly. Ji-an glanced at Ideun sitting across from him. When their eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze or turned his head away.

They weren’t close enough to share trivial daily stories, nor were they in a relationship where they could discuss work. He couldn’t bring up recently released movies or ask about New Year’s wishes either.

Though he hadn’t eaten much, the warm rice porridge made him feel full. Ji-an set down his spoon, which had been scooping glutinous rice porridge.

“Do you want to eat something else?”

His kind words only made his stomach churn. He wanted to hurry back and bury his face in Bobo’s fluffy belly. All his questions had been answered.

He knew Ideun had positive feelings toward him. If not, he wouldn’t have let him into his house, nor would he have changed the furniture out of consideration for him.

Through the conversation with CEO Ha, he also knew how busy Ideun was. Yet, he was making time for him. His gaze was warm, and his thoughtfulness left Ji-an at a loss. He also knew that beneath it all lay pity for him.

“Seo Ji-an.”

When he didn’t respond, his name rolled off Ideun’s lips. Only then did Ji-an shake his head and indirectly express his desire to leave by saying, “I miss Bobo.” He liked Ideun’s attention but also felt burdened by it. More than anything, he feared he might grow too comfortable in this warmth and ease. He couldn’t afford to desire reliance on him.

When he saw Ideun, who hadn’t eaten much either, put down his chopsticks, Ji-an stopped fiddling with his phone. Ideun’s demeanor, as though he might wrap up and leave at any moment, made him anxious.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Aren’t you eating more?”

“You said you wanted to leave.”

Following Ideun, who got up from his seat without waiting, Ji-an exited the restaurant and got into the car. He rubbed his palms on his thighs for no reason.

“You were chatting just fine a moment ago. What’s with the sudden change?”

“It’s nothing.”

“What do kids these days like? Tell me.”

Ji-an looked at him, watching his profile as he drove. He recalled what he had said in this very spot just a few days ago, and naturally, thoughts of Haneul followed.

But his grandmother kept bringing up the eldest child from CEO Kim’s family. Then what about Haneul? Haneul clearly liked Ideun. Yet now, Ideun was showing interest in him, and everything had become hopelessly tangled. Ji-an pursed his lips.

“Coin karaoke, clubs? Visiting hotspots to take pictures, shooting short content or vlogs… and…”

Though he’d been too busy with real life to try much of it himself, he listed off what came to mind from what his friends had done or from conversations with Haneul.

“Anything worth recommending?”

Recommending? He’d need to have experienced it to know. Though he didn’t have a big appetite, he enjoyed good food.

“Hotspots? Going to famous cafés or restaurants, looking around, eating tasty food, and going on dates like that sounds nice. For content or vlogs, you’d need to prepare equipment and think about a lot of things, so that’s better with close friends. Staying home and watching movies or videos is usually for rainy days.”

As he rambled on, Ji-an quickly turned his head to look out the window. He thought it might’ve been better not to know anything. Why did he keep looking at him? Whenever he realized he was watching Ideun, his heart inexplicably trembled.

“But… you should ask the person directly. Everyone has different tastes.”

“I’m asking you right now.”

Ji-an let out a hollow laugh at Ideun’s response, which came far too easily compared to his own difficult words.

“Me? You’re asking me?”

“I don’t care how others spend their time.”

Ji-an turned to him. At a red light, Ideun met his gaze.

“You’re asking how I’d spend time with someone I like?”

His relaxed expression seemed to stiffen slightly, but he still answered, “Yes.”

Ji-an forced his lips into a bright smile and spoke nothing but the unembellished truth.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve only ever stayed in bed.”

* * *

After a warm shower and drying off with a fluffy towel, Ji-an changed into soft pajamas and picked up the ever-energetic Bobo.

Ideun had asked how one spends time with someone they like, and Ji-an had given an honest answer. Yet, Ideun’s response was silence. Why ask such a question in the first place? Though Ji-an didn’t express it outwardly, he could tell Ideun was upset.

Through the open door, Ji-an could see Ideun sitting in the armchair, working. His hair was damp, just like Ji-an’s. After returning home in silence, they had split up—Ideun to the guest room and Ji-an to the main bedroom.

They each washed up and spent the remaining time before sleep separately. Ji-an stood frozen in place, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t figure out what Ideun wanted, so deciding on anything felt impossible.

Would he keep working? Would he come to sleep next to him? The nature of their relationship was still undefined.

“Hey.”

“I need to finish some work. You can go to bed first.”

Hiding behind the door, Ji-an carefully called out to him but sighed in relief at his response. Just a few hours ago, he had resolved to live on his own terms, doing as he pleased. Yet here he was, overthinking again, unsure if Ideun even had any expectations of him.

The same went for his relationship with his grandmother.

Sliding under the cozy blanket, Ji-an let Bobo go when the cat wriggled in discomfort. If Bobo didn’t like him, he could leave anytime. Perhaps he’d find a better owner. But Bobo curled up next to Ji-an’s face, and Ji-an fell asleep with his face nestled against Bobo’s fluffy body.

Not long after curling up with Ji-an, Bobo had slipped out and was now brushing against Ideun’s legs. Leaning back in the armchair, Ideun watched the cat.

He thought he had encountered all kinds of people in various situations, yet no one was as difficult as Ji-an.

One moment, Ji-an would act playful and affectionate, and the next, he’d behave as if he might vanish at any second. He would laugh while talking about people he liked, but his eyes would tell a different story. Provocative one moment and scared silent the next.

Ideun wanted to hear Ji-an’s story in his own words—what had happened, how he could help, and what Ji-an needed. But getting Ji-an to open up felt like trying to pluck stars from the sky.

Finally, Ideun picked up his phone and arranged for a detailed background check on Ji-an. As Bobo lingered near his feet, Ideun shifted his gaze to the cat.

“You don’t know anything either, do you?”

In many ways, Bobo reminded him of Ji-an. The cat would approach, seeking attention, only to retreat and hiss if Ideun extended his hand.

Watching the cat swat at him with little force, Ideun’s eyes wandered to the main bedroom. Soon enough, Bobo darted off toward Ji-an’s room.

***

Once again, the same pattern played out. Ji-an lay silent, clutching his blanket. When Ideun gently pulled it away, Ji-an gave it up without resistance, simply sighing in his sleep.

As soon as Ideun lay down, Ji-an instinctively curled up against him, gripping his shirt tightly. Soon, Ji-an’s breathing steadied, and he fell into a deep sleep.

Ji-an was falling asleep faster and crying less than before, but Ideun’s thoughts only grew more chaotic.

Had Ji-an spent every night like this, unable to sleep alone? Was he so used to having someone by his side that he couldn’t fall asleep otherwise? Who had left him like this? Who had hurt him so deeply?

The puzzle pieces of Ji-an’s life remained scattered, and Ideun wasn’t sure if he’d smile when he finally pieced them together. The emotions stirred by an unknown culprit—rage and reluctant gratitude—gnawed at him.

Judging from Ji-an’s behavior, the person in his past wasn’t kind or gentle. Ideun wondered if filling in those gaps for Ji-an might be enough.

Ji-an had declared with a bright yet naive smile that he wouldn’t fall for him, warning Ideun not to fall for him either. If Ideun liked him, this fragile relationship would dissolve.

“I won’t fall for you. But love… that’s different.”

Loving someone, caring for someone, even liking someone—it wasn’t something Ideun was familiar with. Yet being with Ji-an, seeing him, and holding him felt right. Defining their relationship could wait.

Sometimes, letting time take its course was the best option.

***

Ji-an woke up abruptly, coughing from a sharp pain in his chest. Something had struck him hard—

“Mrowww.”

It was Bobo, walking across his chest and stomach while purring contentedly. Ji-an groaned and relaxed his tense body. The cat must have leaped onto him from the headboard.

“Ah, Bobo, because of you…”

Cradling Bobo with one hand and rubbing his chest with the other, Ji-an realized he was in Ideun’s house. He quickly looked around.

“What’s wrong?”

Seeing Ideun enter the room, Ji-an blinked in surprise. It was bright outside—wasn’t it past work hours? And how had he not woken up sooner? He’d grown so sensitive to sounds lately that even small disturbances had roused him.

But not only had Bobo jumped on him, but Ji-an had also slept deeply—truly rested—for the first time in a while.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

Ji-an stared blankly at Ideun as he came closer and sat on the edge of the bed, gently touching Ji-an’s forehead, cheeks, and neck. Snapping out of his daze, Ji-an pulled back slightly and sat up.

“Bobo jumped down from the headboard.”

“Mrowww.”

As if to deny being tattled on, Bobo let out an exaggerated meow just as Ji-an spoke. Ji-an couldn’t help but laugh softly. The cat had grown quiet the moment he finished speaking.