Chapter 33
by GideonI rummaged through the basket they’d given us when we checked in. Inside were some basic disposable items, condoms, and love gel. The owner who’d checked us in looked to be in his sixties—wasn’t he a bit too open-minded?
“Seriously, they didn’t need to provide this stuff,” I muttered to myself, trying to mask the awkward rustle of the basket. Still, I was glad we’d had time to pack this time; at least I wouldn’t waste money on a last-minute shopping spree.
“Um, do you want to shower first?”
Was that a weird way to ask? I would’ve said it without a second thought to any of my friends, but now it just felt… off. It must be because I was with Lee Taemo.
“Go on. You first.”
“Yes, sir.”
Juhyeon shot back a quick reply and bolted for the bathroom. He was just grateful the frosted glass wasn’t so translucent that it would reveal his silhouette or, worse, the rest of his body.
He washed with water so cold it stung his skin, yet he still couldn’t shake the haze from his mind. After lingering in the bathroom, Juhyeon finally stepped out, a towel draped over his half-dry hair. The air conditioner had finally cooled the room to a comfortable temperature.
“I’m done wash—”
Before Juhyeon could even finish his sentence, a sharp moan erupted from the next room. It was so loud he couldn’t possibly pretend he hadn’t heard it.
“Ah, yes… right there…! More…!”
“More? Harder? Ugh, ahh!“
The obscene sounds of a man and woman’s voices mingled, filling the space. Juhyeon froze, his foot still mid-step.
“…”
Fuck.
The sounds were so loud, it felt like they were in the same room. Yet Taemo sat on the edge of the bed, completely unfazed by the raucous moans. Ever since they’d entered the motel, he’d been glued to his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen as if he were desperately busy. He must have been listening to those sounds the entire time Juhyeon was in the shower, but he showed no sign of embarrassment, no blush, not even a hint of fluster.
Juhyeon found himself grateful that Taemo’s gaze was fixed on his phone.
A brief silence fell between the loud groans. And right then, Juhyeon swallowed hard. The sound echoed—gulp—so loudly that the tips of his ears turned bright red.
“…”
Taemo, who hadn’t flinched at the chaos from the next room, reacted instantly to the sound of Juhyeon’s swallow. He lifted his bowed head and stared intensely at Juhyeon’s face.
Trapped under his suffocating gaze, Juhyeon stammered, “I-I don’t know if they’re gonna… end up dead at this rate. Haha…”
He didn’t even know what he was saying.
“I-I don’t know if he’s gonna… die like that. Haha…”
What the hell am I even saying? Juhyeon forced a smile, his fingers fidgeting with the towel on his head. He felt the heat rushing to his face. He’ll just think it’s from the shower, right? He won’t suspect I’m acting like this because of the sounds coming from the next room? His mind was a chaotic mess.
Just then, Taemo, who had been perched on the edge of the bed, stretched out his leg. He gave Juhyeon’s ankle a playful tap with his bare foot.
Juhyeon flinched, pulling his damp foot back.
Without even glancing at the newly widened gap between them, Taemo jerked his chin toward the vanity.
“Turn on the hairdryer. The noise is fucking killing me.”
“Yes, sir…!”
I hurried to the vanity, grabbed the old hairdryer, and pulled down a damp towel. All the while, the moans from the next room continued to echo. The walls were so thin that I had to drown out the sound as quickly as possible.
Whirrrrrr.
The hairdryer, perhaps due to its age, roared with a particularly loud buzz. But it was still nowhere near enough to mask the noise from the other room.
“…”
Pretending to dry my hair, I turned my head and stole a glance at the vanity mirror. I watched Lee Taemo, who was perched on the edge of the bed, out of the corner of my eye. He still acted as if he couldn’t hear a single sound. He stretched his arms, tilted his head from side to side, and then slowly ran his hands over his face.
Then, without another word, he shot to his feet. Juhyeon, who had been focused entirely on him, flinched and switched off the hairdryer.
“W-what’s wrong?”
A gust of warm air brushed against his cheek. The lingering heat in his hair vanished in an instant. In that brief moment, Taemo snatched up his hat and pulled it low over his brow.
“I’m going on the night patrol.”
“Patrol? So suddenly?”
“I came here to work, didn’t I?”
Taemo gave a short nod and started to walk past, then stopped abruptly. He slid his fingers into Juhyeon’s still-damp hair and gave it a gentle shake. Droplets of water flew everywhere with the movement. His hand was bound to get wet, but he didn’t seem to care.
“I’m taking all the keys. Don’t even think about running around.”
The large hand withdrew, and Taemo turned his back.
Why did I feel a flicker of relief watching him leave the room?
“…”
Even after Taemo had gone, Juhyeon’s gaze remained fixed on the doorway.
Drip. Drip.
Water droplets clinging to the ends of his hair fell onto his shoulder. Only when his shoulder grew damp did Juhyeon snap back to his senses. He quickly switched the hairdryer back on.
He kept his head bowed low, drying his hair for a long time. Suddenly, he realized something.
“…It’s gone quiet.”
The shamefully loud moans had abruptly ceased. No matter how passionate they were, they couldn’t keep it up forever. Still, there was no telling when they might ignite again and broadcast their lovemaking to the entire neighborhood.
The best course of action was to fall asleep quickly.
But he hadn’t been able to sleep at home, so changing locations wasn’t going to help him drift off any easier. He tossed and turned in bed, idly glancing out the window and flipping through mind-numbing variety shows on the TV.
It was already well past midnight. Taemo, who had suddenly gone out for a “night patrol,” still hadn’t returned.
“Where the hell did he go?” Juhyeon muttered, sitting up and pulling the curtain aside just a crack.
He glanced at the building across the street. The man who was supposedly the manager was wearing a headset, completely absorbed in a game. He didn’t look like he’d moved an inch for a while now. So what exactly was Taemo checking on?
Lee Pro.
Juhyeon stared at the name on his screen—the same as the drink he was holding—and hesitated. Should I call? Or just leave a text? His thumb, with its nail trimmed short, hovered over the screen for a long time. Then, he tossed the phone aside and flopped onto his back.
He’ll be back when he’s ready.
Lee Pro wasn’t the type to get into trouble, and even if he did, he was more than capable of handling it on his own.
Juhyeon had been rolling around, basking in the cool air from the AC, when he heard it—the click of the locked door opening. It was past two in the morning.
Without thinking, Juhyeon squeezed his eyes shut. Only the bathroom light was on, casting a faint glow through the room. Even if he pretended to sleep, Lee Pro probably wouldn’t notice. With his eyes closed, Juhyeon focused every nerve on the faint, scattering sounds of movement.
“…”
The presence was still faint. The faint clink of objects, the sound of a bag’s zipper being pulled down. Then, the bathroom door clicked shut, plunging the room into complete darkness.
But Juhyeon stubbornly kept his eyes closed. It’s better to just keep pretending to sleep, he thought. Anything to avoid an awkward situation.
The sound of the shower ran for a while before the bathroom door opened again. A sliver of light cut through the dim motel room. Soon after, footsteps approached the bed. This time, the sound was unmistakable. He’s doing this on purpose, Juhyeon realized.
He stopped beside the bed, motionless. He just stood there, staring down at Juhyeon, who was pretending to sleep so hard his cheeks stung. Even swallowing and breathing felt unnaturally awkward. Does he know I’m awake? The man’s gaze remained fixed on Juhyeon, who was buried in the dim darkness.
“Haaah.”
A soft sigh was followed by the sound of something rustling. Judging by how it brushed past Juhyeon’s hair as he lay face-down, the man must have been grabbing a pillow.
Thud. Something hit the floor, and the relentless gaze finally vanished. The bed didn’t dip or shift. That meant he wasn’t lying down next to him…
Soon, the room fell silent. Outside in the alley, drunkards shouted and the music blaring from the shop in front of the motel echoed loudly. Yet the room remained as still as if it were a completely different space.
Should I open my eyes?
He had always lived his life suppressing his presence, making it impossible to guess what he was doing right now.
Only after a long time, when even the noise from outside the window had faded, did Juhyeon open his eyes.
“…”
Sure enough, the spot beside him was empty. He cautiously reached out and felt the space next to him. The sheets were cool to the touch, brushed only by the chilly air from the conditioner.
This is a relief.
If they had slept in the same bed, he probably wouldn’t have slept a wink.
They’d shared a room and a bed before, back when he’d stayed at the resort to meet Seo Jinyoung. He couldn’t remember a single thought crossing his mind then, but now… why was he so aware of it?
Maybe it’s because we’re in a motel.
Juhyeon blinked slowly, then yanked the duvet over his head.
If you’re here to work, you should be working.
He closed his eyes, recalling Taemo’s passing remark. If he didn’t pull his weight, he might get kicked out. He needed to stop letting his thoughts wander.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Even without trying, a strange tension always seemed to permeate the motel. Moans echoed through the walls at all hours, and after every cleaning, a basket of condoms and lube would be left in plain sight on the vanity.
If he were with his friends, he would have just giggled along as they exchanged crude jokes. But with Lee Taemo, it wasn’t that simple.
This subtle tension didn’t seem to be Juhyeon’s burden alone. Taemo, too, strangely spent very little time in their room. He ate most of his meals out, and after sunset, he’d roam the streets, claiming he had work to do, only returning around the time Juhyeon was falling asleep. Even when they were in the room together, he spent most of his time glued to his phone or constantly stepping out to smoke. He was probably trying to minimize the time they spent alone together.
Even now, Taemo, who had been staring at his phone for a while, stood up. Seeing him grab his car keys, it seemed he was about to head out again. Juhyeon quickly glanced out the window. The gap in the half-drawn curtains was still bright.
“It’s not even night yet. Are you going out again?”
“Yeah.”
“…Where do you always go by yourself?”
“What else would I be doing here? I’m here to work. I’m meeting a client.”
The one who had commissioned this case was Seo Jinyoung. Taemo’s words meant he was going to see her. Juhyeon, who had been sitting blankly on the bed, straightened his back.
“Do you… meet this often?”
Though they hadn’t been working together for long, he knew there were a lot of exceptions when it came to Seo Jinyoung’s case. It had been that way from the start. Taemo had met her directly, bypassing Kang-i, and he seemed to be the one receiving information from her personally. Seeing how often they met, it was clear their relationship was anything but ordinary.
“She’s special.”
And Lee Taemo’s constant, distinct treatment of Seo Jinyoung also played a part in this.
“…”
An indescribable emotion washed over him. It felt similar to the feeling of having a friend stolen away. No, honestly, it was worse than that. Am I relying on Lee Taemo too much? Juhyeon couldn’t find the right words to say, so he just kept fidgeting with the blanket.
“Stay out of trouble.”
“…”
He didn’t say he understood. He didn’t tell Taemo to go. He just didn’t want to. He flopped face-down onto the bed, burying his face in the blanket.
Once Lee Taemo left like that, Juhyeon knew he’d spend the entire time thinking about him. What are they doing? What on earth are they talking about? Are they really meeting for work? Questions he couldn’t even bring himself to ask would weigh on him the whole time.
Click. The door shut with finality.
Ever since they’d settled into the motel, Juhyeon had spent far too much time alone. He had work to do here, of course, but he couldn’t help thinking he might as well have stayed alone from the start. That way, he wouldn’t be wasting his nights staring at the clock, waiting for someone who never came, unable to sleep.
At least he could step out for a bit now, a luxury he hadn’t had in the beginning. Still, his excursions were brief. He couldn’t risk running into old friends from the neighborhood, so he kept his outings short and always wore a hat pulled low over his face.
Today, that bastard of a manager hadn’t even shown his face. Juhyeon figured he could just keep an eye on the street through the gap in the curtains. Taemo, who had been with him until just now, probably knew this already.
Still, Juhyeon sent the text anyway.
“He hasn’t arrived yet. I’ll let you know when he does.”
Juhyeon hit send, then grabbed his debit card and the room key. He reached for Taemo’s hat, pulling it on with a practiced ease. His destination was the convenience store in the building next door.
The air was thick and humid, a sure sign that the monsoon season was approaching. Having spent most of his day holed up in the air-conditioned motel room, he was always a step behind when it came to sensing the changing weather.
He walked into the convenience store, flapping the front of his shirt to cool down. Taemo never let him skip a meal, even when he was away, so Juhyeon wasn’t hungry. He grabbed a bunch of beer and soju and headed for the checkout counter. As he did, a familiar bag caught his eye.
“…”
It was the same potato chips Lee Taemo always left on the living room table. Juhyeon had never really wanted to buy them with his own money. But he’d seen them so often that they had become a part of his routine. Without thinking, he grabbed the green snack bag.
Back in the motel room, I did nothing but crack open bottle after bottle of liquor. A movie they always play during the holidays was on again, so I just watched it without thinking. I also made sure to glance through the gap in the curtains every now and then.
“Ah, it’s going down so smoothly.”
Alcohol tastes best in a motel room, I thought. I alternated between a can of beer and a bottle of soju, gulping them down. There was still no reply to the text I’d sent Taemo.
“Just how much fun are you having that you can’t even get back to me?”
I crunched on snacks, my eyes glued to the screen. Every time it went black, I tapped it to wake it up again.
Maybe he’s having way more fun with Seo Jinyoung than he would be stuck in a motel room with a boring person like me. He’d be getting a lot out of it, too. After all, Jinyoung is clearly and intensely interested in Lee Taemo. When someone like that makes a move, anyone would be tempted.
“…”
So what’s the point of all this useless daydreaming? Juhyeon thought, his head throbbing. Lee Taemo doesn’t even know we kissed, let alone how much I’m obsessing over it.
I should never have started something I was bound to lose.
He shook his head, trying to banish the image of Taemo from his mind, and took another drink. It went down smooth today.
He bought more alcohol and drank for a long time. He was already well past his limit, yet he kept drinking. Even as he grew drunk, he kept glancing out the window. Even in his stupor, he hadn’t forgotten what was important. He knew his duty came before this fleeting loneliness.
“They’re not coming… Lee Taemo isn’t coming, the manager isn’t coming. It’s always just me…”
Juhyeon muttered as he crawled to the window, pressing his face against the glass to peer outside. Speaking the words aloud only seemed to deepen his loneliness.
Should I go to a karaoke bar? Kang-i’s probably alone right now, too. But what if Taemo comes back while I’m gone? He’s been getting home around 3:00 lately, so I’d still have plenty of time. Should I go? He tapped his forehead against the glass, lost in thought.
“Forget it. I’ve always been fine on my own.”
I’ve been alone since the day I was born. I can handle a few hours.
A long sigh escaped Juhyeon’s lips, his warm breath fogging the windowpane. Before the mist could even fade, he flopped backward onto the bed.
He had been using this spacious bed all by himself, all because Lee Taemo insisted on sleeping on the floor.
He’ll never get any decent sleep like that. He already struggles with insomnia—why won’t he just lie down here with me?
He doesn’t even care about me. So why is he suddenly acting like this? Especially when he doesn’t even remember what happened that day.
If anyone should be uncomfortable, it should be me.
A vague, formless resentment swirled through his mind, stirring up a chaotic mess of emotions.
“…”
And then, one thing became clearer. This was different from fear or resentment. It was distinctly different from the feelings he’d first had when he met Lee Taemo. This was a feeling he’d never even received during his few, fleeting relationships.
Who told him to mess with my life in the first place?
Back then, those words had felt unfair. But now, he truly wanted to mess with Lee Taemo’s life. A greed he’d never known before took hold. Why? Why had he let a man who wasn’t particularly kind or gentle, and who didn’t even like him, into his heart?
“What am I going to do, hyung? What am I supposed to do… I’m so fucked…”
He pulled the neatly folded blanket over his face. Rubbing his cheek against the soft sheet, he muttered the question over and over, long after it had gone unanswered.
How much time had passed? The alcohol was still coursing through his veins, his mind a hazy blur. He had long since surpassed his limit, and his thoughts were slipping away from him.
After finally managing to shower, Juhyeon lay on his side, staring blankly at the wall.
Strange, he thought. The pattern on the wallpaper seemed to drift closer, then recede, before fluttering away into the corner. He blinked slowly, his eyes heavy and hot, watching the pattern dance and shift.
Just as the afterimages began to overlap and make his head spin, a sound echoed through the apartment.
Click.
The front door had opened.
Juhyeon’s unfocused eyes snapped wide. A spark of life returned to his previously dull gaze. He bolted upright, staring fixedly toward the entrance.
The sensor light by the entrance flickered on, and a familiar figure stepped inside. It was Lee Taemo, who must have spent the entire time with Seo Jinyoung without sending a single reply. He didn’t even seem surprised to see Juhyeon sitting upright in bed.
“Why are you still up waiting?”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned his back and rummaged through a shopping bag. Inside was a load of laundry—underwear and clothes, all washed and dried. After he finished showering, Taemo would throw his pillow on the floor and turn off the lights. Juhyeon wanted to stop him before he could, but Taemo’s movements were too fast.
“…Why is he moving so fast?”
By the time Juhyeon muttered the words, having missed his chance, the sound of running water had already started in the bathroom.
A heavy drowsiness washed over him, his eyelids threatening to close at any moment. But Juhyeon forced himself to stay awake. He had something he had to say right now.
This was why alcohol was so terrifying. It gave you the nerve to do things you’d never even considered before.
After what felt like an eternity of fighting to keep his bloodshot eyes open, the bathroom door finally clicked open.
The floor was still littered with empty bottles and half-eaten bags of snacks. Juhyeon sat on the bed, his eyes red and swollen, but Taemo said nothing. He just shook his wet hair loose and knelt down in front of an empty bottle. His broad, bare back curved as he bent over.
“Um, why do you keep leaving me alone?”
“…”
“What are you afraid I’ll do? Huh? What if I break all the promises I made in that written agreement…”
Taemo didn’t reply, perhaps dismissing the words as the ramblings of a drunkard. He simply set the empty bottle aside and stuffed the scattered snack bags into the trash can. His movements were swift and silent as he wiped the floor clean with a wet wipe. At first, this efficiency had amazed me, but now I was growing used to it.
The same went for Lee Taemo himself. I had once considered him someone completely out of my league, a being so far removed from me that I could never hope to catch up. But now, he had become so familiar that I wanted to reach out and touch him.
“Is seeing that person really that important? Is that why you don’t care about me at all?”
“…”
“I want to be with you too, Hyung. But you’re always with him.”
The hand closing the cap on the half-empty soju bottle froze. The broad muscles of his back, which had been twitching incessantly, went still.
Drip. Drip.
Water from his black hair fell, slowly soaking his shoulders. While his face was flawless, his tanned body was covered in countless small scars. It wasn’t hard to imagine the kind of life Lee Taemo had led.
Juhyeon was still silently counting the scars etched across Taemo’s shoulders, back, and ribs when the question came.
“Why do you want to be with me?”
The silence had been so long that it took Juhyeon a moment to realize Taemo was answering his question. Juhyeon slowly lifted his feverish gaze.
Taemo had already stood up and was staring down at him. He reached for the towel draped over his shoulders, pulling it down with a rough tug.
“…Because I missed you.”
Thud.
The slightly damp towel landed on the floor—right where Juhyeon had just neatly folded it. His gaze followed the towel, now displaying the motel’s name, as it fell diagonally to the ground.
“What?”
“…”
His voice was laced with a forced anger. Taemo closed the distance in a single stride and reached out. Instead of a gentle caress on the cheek or shoulder, he grabbed Juhyeon’s hair, his grip tight and unyielding.
Juhyeon’s head was jerked back, forcing him to meet Taemo’s gaze. With the light behind him, Taemo’s face was cast in shadow, but Juhyeon could still see the hard line of his narrowed eyes.
“What am I supposed to remember?”
The scent of alcohol wafted from Taemo’s lips as they moved. It wasn’t the smell of soju or beer—it was something much stronger. Juhyeon kept his mouth shut, his eyes fixed on Taemo’s lips.
A memory of that day flashed through his mind. The angle of their faces, the atmosphere, even Taemo’s drunken state—everything was the same. The only difference was that today, Woo Juhyeon was just as drunk.
“…You remember everything, don’t you?”
The question, which had always lingered unspoken in his mind, finally escaped his lips. It had to be. Otherwise, nothing made sense—not how Taemo left him alone every day, not his refusal to even share a bed, not the way he seemed to acknowledge the subtle tension between them.
Though Juhyeon hadn’t specified a particular time or event, Taemo’s face contorted sharply. Perhaps the alcohol was making his emotions surface more easily than usual. Juhyeon kept his head tilted back, his dry throat tightening.
Taemo’s dark eyes fixed on Juhyeon’s Adam’s apple, which bobbed slowly as he swallowed. His gaze was intense, as if he were absorbing the slow movement or waiting for the perfect moment to strike a fatal blow.
“Right? Isn’t it?”
Taemo’s tightly sealed lips parted slightly. A low sigh, tinged with the scent of alcohol, escaped through the gap. Then, biting his lower lip, he glared up fiercely. The heavy gaze that had been fixed on Juhyeon’s throat shifted to his bloodshot eyes.
“Fuck. If you’re going to pretend you don’t know, just shut the hell up.”
The grip on Juhyeon’s hair tightened. His neck was strained from being pulled back, and the back of his head throbbed, but Juhyeon didn’t show a hint of discomfort. What Taemo had to say was far more important right now.
“Why? Who were you pretending not to know for?”
0 Comments