Chapter 62: Side Story (3)
by GideonJuhyeon slowly withdrew his hand from beneath the covers. Taemo was an incredibly light sleeper; even the slightest movement could wake him, so Juhyeon had to stifle his presence completely. It took him a long time just to pull his hand out. Once he did, he gently placed his palm against Taemo’s back.
As he moved, Juhyeon kept a sharp eye on Taemo’s face. Seeing the frown still etched between Taemo’s brows, he began to pat his back. Tap, tap. The touch was so light that Taemo didn’t wake.
In the past, Taemo would have snapped awake at the mere sound of beer cans clinking, or reflexively snatch at the hand trying to cover him with a blanket. Now, that wariness had faded. It meant he felt a little more at ease by Juhyeon’s side. Just as Juhyeon had grown accustomed to Taemo’s shadow.
Pat, pat. The gentle touch continued.
Ever since he was a child, Juhyeon had been easily frightened. On stormy nights, he would always flinch and tremble. Whenever that happened, his older sister and brothers would pat him like this, and strangely, his fear would fade away.
Recalling those moments, Juhyeon diligently patted Taemo’s back and stroked his forehead. Perhaps because of his tender care, the deep frown on Taemo’s face gradually smoothed out.
Just as a tiny gesture had soothed young Juhyeon’s fears, he was relieved that his own touch could chase away Taemo’s nightmares.
“I thought you’d grown up really lonely, but I guess you were actually well-cared for.”
“…And what about now?”
Juhyeon flinched at the sudden voice. His heart nearly stopped.
“Fucking scared me. What the hell? Are you awake, or just talking in your sleep?”
Taemo’s eyes remained closed. While Juhyeon was still trying to figure out if the question was meant for him or just sleep-talking, the low voice cut through the silence again.
“How do you feel now?”
Only then did Taemo’s eyes slowly open. His pitch-black gaze fixed on Juhyeon. Faced with the expression that seemed to be waiting for an answer, Juhyeon awkwardly scratched his eyebrow.
“I’m not lonely… What about you, Hyung?”
“What about what?”
“I mean, how do you feel?”
As he asked, Juhyeon secretly hoped for a positive answer. The deep-seated loneliness and anxiety he had been born with were gradually fading away, all thanks to Lee Taemo. Thanks to Taemo, he had been able to take these small steps forward. But what about Taemo? Was Woo Juhyeon having a positive impact on his life?
“I’ve never been lonely,” Taemo said.
The spark in Juhyeon’s eyes dimmed. He’s hiding his true feelings, Juhyeon thought. Taemo never lies, but he’s often not completely honest.
Juhyeon pulled the blanket back up, which had slipped down while he was patting Taemo’s back.
“But shouldn’t you at least say you’re doing better because of me? Huh?”
“When would I have had time to feel lonely?”
“…”
Even as Juhyeon’s voice took on a petulant tone, Taemo remained impassive. He simply pulled the blanket Juhyeon had clumsily wrapped around himself even higher, tucking it in tightly so not a single draft could get through.
“In the past, I was too busy being on edge to feel anything like that. And now…”
“…”
Even when the biting wind howled, Juhyeon no longer felt the cold. No matter how heavily the snow fell, he didn’t shiver. Ever since he’d taken Taemo’s hand and left that single-roomed apartment—a place still clinging to the lingering regrets of his past—it had always been this way.
He curled up, rubbing his toes together to keep the warmth from pooling at his extremities. As he did, Juhyeon’s forehead came to rest against Taemo’s broad chest.
“You’re busy enough shedding your guilt, Hyung,” Juhyeon murmured.
“You call me Hyung, but you sound like an old man,” Taemo replied.
Taemo let out a dry chuckle. He began awkwardly patting Juhyeon’s back, returning the same gesture Juhyeon had offered him earlier.
“Getting cocky, are we? What happened to the kid who was too scared to even speak to me?”
“That was then.”
“Hah.”
Every moment felt ticklishly intimate. Who would have thought he’d end up sharing a bed with the very person he once feared so much? Who would have thought they’d spend their nights together, soothing each other’s loneliness and anxiety as if they were real family?
So who told me to mess with his life?
Perhaps Juhyeon had reached out and touched not just Taemo’s wallet, but his entire life. And now, he was willingly taking responsibility for it. Juhyeon, who had been giggling with his forehead pressed against Taemo’s chest, suddenly lifted his head.
Then, he threw off the blanket Taemo had carefully tucked around him and reached out. Grabbing Taemo’s cheek, which was starting to feel rough with stubble, he pressed his lips against it. Mwah. A faint, ticklish sound echoed.
“I’m not scared of you anymore.”
Pulling back, Juhyeon met Taemo’s gaze. Honestly, his fierce and sharp-edged face was still terrifying. But the only reason Juhyeon could act so playfully was because of his absolute certainty: no matter what he did, Woo Juhyeon would always be the exception for Lee Taemo.
“Now even this little thing is looking down on me.”
Juhyeon buried his face back into Taemo’s shoulder, who let out a scoffing laugh. The hand stroking the back of his head was a familiar touch.
“Go to sleep quickly. That way you can make me food, drive me around, wash me, and play with me again tomorrow.”
Listing it all out, Juhyeon realized Taemo had a lot to do. He felt a bit embarrassed that his main job seemed to be taking care of him, but since Taemo had volunteered for all of this, it should be fine, right?
“Fuck, I’m playing parent when I’m not even at that age yet.”
Even as he cursed, Taemo kept stroking the back of Juhyeon’s head. He even tossed the pillow aside and slid his own firm arm underneath Juhyeon’s head. The transition was so seamless that Juhyeon, who had been giggling for a while, only realized later that he was using Taemo’s arm as a pillow.
“Hyung, if your first love ever succeeds, won’t I just be your only son?”
“Are you insane? Didn’t you learn addition and subtraction in school?”
Juhyeon often teased Taemo about his age. The man was usually indifferent to whatever Juhyeon said, but he always reacted this way to this specific joke. It was both amusing and rather cute—though he’d never let Lee Taemo know that.
“Stop chatting and go to sleep.”
“Yessir.”
Juhyeon answered and snuggled back into Taemo’s arms. After all this talking, Taemo would have forgotten what nightmare he’d been having. Even if Lee Taemo was a man of exceptional memory and keen wit.
Today, too, Juhyeon had guarded Taemo’s night in the only way he knew how. With a satisfied heart, he let his heavy eyelids close.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
On days without academy, Juhyeon studied at a study cafe or at home. Kang-i preferred the cafe, but Juhyeon preferred home. The reason was simple: he could be with Taemo.
“Ugh, my neck hurts.”
Juhyeon pulled out his earphones after a long lecture. His neck was stiff from keeping his head bent down while taking notes. A quick glance at the clock showed it was already close to lunchtime.
“Time for a break.”
He shut down the tablet that was still playing the lecture and closed his book. Then, he buried his nose in the closed book and sniffed. He’d never known before, having always avoided books, but the smell of paper was surprisingly pleasant. Perhaps because he’d used scented pens for his notes, a faint floral fragrance was also mixed in.
“My head hurts…”
The scent calmed Juhyeon’s mind, soothing the headache that had been throbbing from the dense text. He often suffered from these headaches when he forced himself to study, a subject he never touched. Taking medicine or lying down helped, but there was a far more effective remedy.
Juhyeon shot to his feet and slipped out of the study. He crept down the hallway on tiptoe, holding his breath. As he descended to the first floor, he craned his neck to peek around the corner. He saw a broad back standing by the kitchen counter. Covering his mouth to stifle a giggle, Juhyeon hurried his pace.
Even after Juhyeon entered the kitchen, Taemo didn’t turn around. He simply continued chopping, his knife striking the cutting board with steady precision. Fearing that startling him might cause an accident, Juhyeon cleared his throat to announce his presence.
“You’re really good with a knife.”
“That’s how I made a living.”
Taemo didn’t even flinch when Juhyeon suddenly appeared. He just gave the knife he was using to chop carrots a slight shake before resuming his work.
“Did you know I was coming?”
“I knew the moment you closed your book and started sniffing around, Whin-dung-i.”
“…”
That was exactly what the high schoolers had said in that dark alley when Kang-i ran into them on an errand. Taemo had shown up to help just as they were being outnumbered. It had happened less than a year ago, so the memory was still vivid in Juhyeon’s mind. Why bring that up now? he wondered, mortified. He decided to pretend he hadn’t heard and pressed himself close to Taemo’s back, grabbing a handful of his waist.
“Whin-dung-i, did you not hear me calling you?”
Juhyeon had tried to ignore him, but Taemo relentlessly pressed the question.
“Ah, that was just some bully talking tough while they were trying to shake me down.”
“Not when they were acting tough, but when you were getting shaken down for lunch money.”
“…I wasn’t getting shaken down. Give me a break. I was just letting them have it.”
Juhyeon, who had been clinging to Taemo’s back like a cicada, abruptly pulled away. Yet Taemo acted as if he didn’t miss the contact at all.
“Sure, Whin-dung-i. Go set the table.”
“…Fine.”
As Juhyeon grabbed the utensils and headed to the table, he glanced down at his own outfit. He happened to be wearing a white hoodie. From what he’d observed recently, Taemo always called him that whenever he wore white. I really shouldn’t wear this anymore. It wasn’t even a cute nickname—what kind of name was Whin-dung-i? And to make matters worse, it was the same name the high school bullies had used to mock him. Taemo might not look the part, but he was a first-rate tease.
Once Juhyeon finished setting the table, Taemo brought out a large platter. On it sat myeongran pasta and steak. Since Juhyeon had mentioned he disliked seeing blood seeping out, Taemo had cooked the steak well-done.
“Does this look right?”
“Oh, it’s close!”
Juhyeon quickly snapped a photo of the food. Kang-i was the only person he could brag to. He sent the picture to Kang-i, who was probably at the study cafe by now, and picked up his fork. As he began to eat in earnest, Juhyeon couldn’t stop praising the meal.
“The portions are bigger than at a restaurant, and it tastes way better. I’m not just saying that—I mean it.”
“I’m glad to hear that, then.”
I’d made a few friends at the academy. I often went to famous restaurants with them, but after every delicious meal, I found myself thinking of Taemo. It was as if he had truly become my family.
He would always agree to go wherever I wanted, but I quickly noticed that eating at restaurants never quite satisfied him. So now, I would cook the dishes he enjoyed for him myself.
“This is more like it. Those restaurants use such small plates, it’s not enough.”
“Eat more, then.”
The portion was large enough to feed four or five people, but Juhyeon polished off the pasta. As he leaned back in his chair, patting his full stomach, Taemo quickly cleared the plate. He moved so fast, there was no time to stop him.
“Ah, I’ll do the dishes! It’s the unwritten rule—if one person cooks, the other does the dishes.”
“We don’t have that rule in this house.”
Juhyeon pretended not to hear and headed for the sink, but Taemo stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Then, he suddenly gave him an errand.
“Whin-dung-i, go to the garage. There’s a bag in the back seat I need.”
“A bag?”
“Yeah, hurry up.”
It sounded like a flimsy excuse just to get him out of the way, but Juhyeon obediently grabbed the car keys. He went into the garage connected to the entryway and opened the back door. There was a travel duffel bag there, and it felt quite heavy, whatever was inside.
What’s in here?
A black, heavy bag. It was similar to the ones he used to carry his tools in when he was a hitman.
Should I open it?
Juhyeon stared at the tightly sealed zipper, his hands gripping the bag’s handles. Then, he shook his head. If I’m that curious, he’ll tell me. Let’s not do anything foolish.
He repeated the thought to himself as he walked.
Taemo must have been incredibly fast; he’d already finished the dishes. He was just drying his hands on a towel as he stepped into the living room, coming face-to-face with Juhyeon.
Immediately, Taemo took the bag from Juhyeon’s hands. Juhyeon had been carrying it with both hands the entire time, yet Taemo lifted it with a single hand, as if it weighed nothing.
Feeling a bit awkward, Juhyeon shook out his hands. Taemo began massaging his forearms, pressing down firmly.
“Was it heavy? Do we need to get you an X-ray?”
“Ah, it’s just… I’ve only been studying lately…”
Juhyeon shot back a playful retort as he walked into the living room. Even though he knew Juhyeon was joking, Taemo clung to him, constantly poking and prodding his shoulders and upper arms.
“But what’s inside that thing? I thought it was a rock.”
“My severance pay.”
“What? Your severance pay, hyung?”
“No, Woo Juhyeon’s severance pay.”
Juhyeon was halfway to sitting on the sofa, leaving him in an awkward position as he looked up at Taemo. The other man pressed down on his shoulders, forcing him to sit, before placing the duffel bag on the table.
Zzzzzzip.
As the tightly sealed zipper was pulled open, the bag was revealed to be filled with small boxes. How was that thing so heavy? Juhyeon’s eyes widened as he peered inside.
“…What is all this?”
“Open it.”
Juhyeon tilted his head, curious, and reached out. He picked a box and lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in velvet, lay a shimmering object.
“…A Golden Calf?”
He had a long history with Golden Calves, but this was the first time he’d ever touched one. The one he’d been accused of stealing was smaller than a lighter, but this one was much larger.
“No way… Are these all Golden Calves?”
He rummaged through the box to get a rough count, and his hand struck something hard at the bottom. Juhyeon quickly pushed the contents aside to peer inside. There, stacked neatly, were large, solid, glittering bars.
Juhyeon’s eyes widened. Gold bars? He’d only ever seen these in movies. This explained why the bag had been so heavy.
“I was going to give it to you in cash, but I figured you’d just stare at your phone all day if I did.”
“Huh?”
“Kang-i told me to give it to you in gold, so you can support me in the future.”
“Support you?”
“I’m unemployed, aren’t I?”
Juhyeon blinked stupidly at the answer, which was delivered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It was true that Lee Taemo was technically unemployed, even if he had a suspiciously nice car and house for someone without a job—and a lot of cash to boot.
Still, how could a severance package be more than what I made as a cleaner? Juhyeon didn’t know the exact price of gold, but this had to be worth billions of won. He’d never seen or touched this much money before, and his fingertips trembled.
“How can a severance package be this much?”
“It’s only called severance pay. Think of it as the rest of your payment for all your hard work.”
Juhyeon still checked his bank balance often these days. The frequency had dropped significantly compared to before, but ever since he had reached exactly one hundred million won, he’d been forcing himself to stop, terrified that a single mistake while checking the app might somehow erase it all. But to hear there was more payment waiting for him left his jaw hanging open. Just how much money was involved in contract killings?
“You’re paying me now? The amount you gave me before was already so much…”
“When you’re a kid, you get pocket money from the adults during the holidays, right? And your parents take it away, saying, ‘We’ll keep this for you. You can have it when you’re older.’ Then they just give you a few thousand-won bills.”
“…”
“This is just like that. I was saving it up to give to you when you’re older.”
Taemo started rummaging through the bag, adding to the conversation. He seemed completely unfazed by the gold bars packed so densely they’d make anyone’s eyes widen.
Juhyeon’s hand trembled as he picked up one of the gold bars, his touch gentle as if afraid of scratching it. He checked the weight engraved on it, then hurriedly pulled out his phone to search for its value.
“Whoa.”
The amount was jaw-dropping. He glanced back and forth between the gold bars filling the bag and the numbers on his phone screen. With this much… isn’t this worth several houses? His palms broke out in a sweat, and he hurriedly set the gold bar back down.
“This is a bit much. My heart’s racing like crazy right now.”
He grabbed Taemo’s scarred hand and pressed it against his own chest. Taemo’s eyebrows twitched as he carefully gauged the heartbeat.
“You’re right. It’s beating faster than when you’re with me.”
That’s not the point right now. Still, Taemo couldn’t hide his dissatisfaction. His hand continued to grip and release her chest, over and over again.
“…That’s not what’s important right now. I won’t be able to sleep if you’re like this.”
He was being serious. He might not be able to concentrate on his studies because he’d be too busy checking on her, making sure she was okay, and counting her breaths all day. No, he might not even be able to step foot outside the house. But Taemo still reacted as if it were someone else’s problem.
“It’s better than falling asleep exhausted from counting money.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Or should I hide you under the bed and keep watch with you every night? Since we’re staying up anyway, we might as well do something good, right?”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Taemo kept making sly, suggestive remarks.
“No, I—”
“If you dump me and run off with the gold, I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth. You know that, right? I’ll find you.”
Juhyeon knew it all too well. He’d already heard the story of the cleaner who tried to make a run for it with the gold, only to be hunted down and punished. Besides, he’d watched Taemo work. Above all, Juhyeon had no intention of running away. He had no desire to choose the gold over Lee Taemo.
“That won’t happen. But what about you, hyung? You’re not going to give this to me and then bolt, are you?”
The suspicion was relentless. Taemo chuckled, clearly amused by their exchange. Then, the hand that had been kneading Juhyeon’s chest all along slid up to wrap around the nape of his neck. Unlike before, his fingertips now stroked Juhyeon’s skin with a slow, gentle touch.
“You never know.”
“…”
“So keep a close eye on me. And the gold.”
The gentle, almost ticklish touch continued. As Juhyeon lowered his head, his newly grown hair fell forward, veiling his ear. It seemed enough to hide the flush creeping across his skin.
“……Yes. I’ll make you so dependent on me that you won’t even think about running away.”
“Oh, such ambition.”
“I’m going to get a job right after I pass the GED. I’ll be the breadwinner and take proper care of you.”
Taemo let out a soft laugh and lowered his head to match Juhyeon’s. Their foreheads met with a soft thud, and Taemo lightly kneaded the back of Juhyeon’s neck.
“I’ll have to live a long time to enjoy all the filial piety Woo Juhyeon is planning to give me.”
The words made Juhyeon’s heart ache. It sounded like a promise—a promise that Taemo wouldn’t easily leave his side, just as Dongwoo had once been the goal for a young Juhyeon. Pushing aside the thought of the gold they had amassed, Juhyeon wrapped his arms around Taemo’s neck. Right now, he craved Lee Taemo’s warmth more than counting their gold.
“Is there anything you want? I’ll do anything for you.”
Whenever Juhyeon had missed Dongwoo, he had endured the longing by building up a list of things he wanted to do for him. Back then, it had felt lonely, a one-sided accumulation. But Taemo was different. He was certain that Taemo would not let his future be lonely.
“Hmm. Maybe I should ask you to buy me a car.”
“I can do that too. But you’ll have to wait a bit, since I’ll be buying it with the money I’ve saved from my salary.”
“Get a job first before you start talking.”
Though it was still a long way off, Juhyeon didn’t feel anxious. Because Lee Taemo would still be by his side then.
He almost wanted to praise himself for the moment he had touched Lee Taemo’s life—the man who had become his friend, his lover, and his family. Juhyeon rubbed his forehead against the nape of Taemo’s neck, trying to hide the smile that kept spreading across his lips.
“Anyway, you can really trust me.”
“I feel so secure with you. Really.”
He chuckled softly, his hand slowly stroking Juhyeon’s back. The gentle touch gradually calmed the churning in Juhyeon’s heart.
Thank goodness. This time, he could do everything he wanted to do for him. Because the person who would accept it all was right here, and he had even promised to stay by his side for a long time. They hadn’t hooked their pinkies together, but that didn’t make him feel insecure.
Lee Taemo had always appeared to save Juhyeon whenever he was in danger, had endured the brink of death to eventually return to his side, and had even reunited him with Dongwoo. So, he would surely keep his promise to stay by his side for a lifetime. After all, Lee Taemo had said he would keep his promises to Woo Juhyeon even if it cost him his life.
[ Side Story End ]
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