Chapter 23

Why on earth is Geon-hyuk here at this hour, in a place like this, with Song Naru?

Gyu-yeon scanned the two of them to figure out what was going on and let a curse slip through his teeth. Naru’s clothes, which had been neat at the photo exhibition, were a mess now.

There were black footprints on the cream knit, and his eyes were reddened as if he’d been crying—both details that made it obvious why Naru had been strangling Geon-hyuk’s neck.

“Not answering?”

“W-well, it’s just that….”

Startled by the pressing tone, Naru stammered. He assumed Gyu-yeon was furious because he’d strangled Geon-hyuk.

Geon-hyuk kept his mouth tightly shut, offering no answer. He intended to make Naru more embarrassed.

Naru felt like running. He blamed himself: he’d let go of Gyu-yeon’s hand first and deliberately caused that scene so he’d meet Geon-hyuk.

His head told him to sober up and tell the truth about what had happened, but faced with Gyu-yeon, his mouth froze like stone and wouldn’t open.

Gyu-yeon, who had been standing at a distance, strode up and stopped in front of Naru. With each step he took, Geon-hyuk’s mouth curled into a smirk while Naru’s head involuntarily drooped.

“Who told you to answer?”

“Uh….”

“Geon-hyuk, what were you doing with this guy?”

Something unexpected happened. Gyu-yeon was angry at Geon-hyuk, not Naru. Startled by the unforeseen reaction, Naru widened his eyes and looked up at Gyu-yeon. Geon-hyuk, apparently surprised as well, stared at Gyu-yeon with an expression Naru had never seen before.

“What do you mean what— I didn’t do anything.”

“Say something believable.”

“Kind of hurtful—you saw me get strangled too, Gyu-yeon.”

It wasn’t a lie, but Geon-hyuk twisting things to his advantage made him seem like a jerk. Naru, who had hidden behind Gyu-yeon, glared at Geon-hyuk from the corner of his eye.

Gyu-yeon’s back looked particularly solid today. He thought seeing someone’s back was a sad thing, but perhaps seeing it like this wasn’t so bad. Naru was genuinely moved that Gyu-yeon had come looking for him and was holding him.

As the situation took a strange turn, Geon-hyuk, protesting his injustice, let out an exasperated sigh. Gyu-yeon turned and checked Naru’s appearance carefully, scanning slowly for injuries.

Naru, dazed and then grabbed, watched Gyu-yeon silently. He blinked as if unaware of what had happened to his neck, looking innocent.

Holding his fragile shoulders and turning him this way and that, Gyu-yeon discovered marks on Naru’s neck: red impressions as if someone had strangled him hard.

A strangulation mark. And Naru had been strangling Geon-hyuk.

Even without thinking too hard, Gyu-yeon felt he knew what had happened. Naru often mimicked Gyu-yeon’s actions or words. He’d done it earlier too—before eating, when Gyu-yeon grabbed his hand, Naru awkwardly copied a swear he’d used to tell him to let go.

Naru was the simple type who returned whatever he received. He was timid and wouldn’t initiate, so the fact that he had even strangled Geon-hyuk suggested he must have suffered something similar, perhaps worse.

The moment Gyu-yeon found the mark on Naru’s neck, his jaw clenched. He couldn’t explain why he was so angry, but his temper flared and his vision narrowed.

“You didn’t strangle him first, did you?”

“Guhk!”

“Do you take me for an idiot? Then why did you open your mouth on your own?”

Gyu-yeon reached out and gripped Geon-hyuk’s neck. It was a different force from when Naru had grabbed him. Startled by the suddenness, Naru stepped out from behind Gyu-yeon and cautiously grabbed his arm.

Should he stop him or not?

After a moment’s hesitation, Naru let go of the arm he’d been holding. He realized there was no need to stop him.

That bastard—he strangled my neck like that. Let Gyu-yeon rough him up.

Naru stepped back a pace and hid behind Gyu-yeon again. Watching Geon-hyuk get what he deserved felt satisfying, but seeing the whole scene made him uneasy, so he preferred not to watch directly.

Gyu-yeon finally let go after gripping Geon-hyuk’s neck until veins stood blue, pushing him to his limit. He released him when Geon-hyuk’s face had gone red and even purplish.

As soon as he was freed, Geon-hyuk gasped and clutched his chest. Gyu-yeon, not giving him a moment to catch his breath, grabbed him by the collar.

“You’re seriously mistaken—I’m not your friend.”

“Hey, Yu Gyu-yeon.”

“There’s no way I’m on the same level as a lowlife like you. Right?”

Gyu-yeon let out a nasty laugh, cutting Geon-hyuk down to bruise his pride. Geon-hyuk, about to retort, swallowed his temper and shut his mouth. If he earned more of Gyu-yeon’s hatred, their relationship might become irreparable.

“Gyu-yeon, first calm down.”

“I wish you’d stop paying attention to him from now on.”

“…”

“You know better than anyone this isn’t a favor I’m asking.”

Geon-hyuk nodded meekly at the warning. They should consider themselves lucky to get away with this. Only after the confirmation did Gyu-yeon fully release his grip. His breathing was still rough from anger, but he straightened his face to seem composed.

Geon-hyuk smoothed his rumpled clothes and glanced at Naru. The dull look in his eyes reminded Gyu-yeon of a rotten pollock’s stare. Gyu-yeon took Naru’s hand and left first, making sure not to meet Geon-hyuk’s eye as he passed.

Naru, grabbed and led away in a daze, followed Gyu-yeon silently to his car. The suffocating silence was frightening, but it was his own doing, so he had to live with it.

Gyu-yeon opened the passenger door and settled Naru into the seat. Despite the rough handling, Naru complied without complaint, nervously fiddling with his nails and unable to speak first.

Once in the driver’s seat, Gyu-yeon started the engine, stopped, and raked his fingers through his hair. Startled by his sudden irritability, Naru averted his gaze. Gyu-yeon spoke.

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Where did you go? Why were you there? No matter how much I looked I couldn’t….!”

“…”

Gyu-yeon trailed off and let out a big sigh. He forced himself to swallow his anger, fearing another intense grilling would frighten Naru. Naru thought he was lucky that Gyu-yeon had gotten angry.

You found me. You came and found me.

It had been brief, but he truly felt abandoned for a moment. Hearing that Gyu-yeon had been searching desperately for him flooded him with relief and reddened his eyes.

Naru fumbled the bouquet he’d shoved in his back pocket out. He’d put it there to avoid losing it and was glad he’d kept it. Though the weak paper wrapping was crumpled and ugly, the small blossoms were intact.

“I wanted to give you this….”

“What?”

“I really wanted to give you this.”

I wanted to give this to you because you came to find me.

Gyu-yeon’s face registered disbelief. He couldn’t stay angry—after all, Naru had gone to the trouble of buying a bouquet.

It was the most pathetic bouquet he’d ever seen. No—calling it a bouquet felt generous. The palm-sized wrapping was crushed, the flowers hung meekly, each one disappointing.

Yes, it was clearly awful. It had to be awful.

But Naru’s face as he handed it over was so beautiful that there was no time to care about the crumpled paper.

His moist eyes, shy upturned mouth, and peach-red cheeks looked unbearably adorable. The wistful mood coming off him made Gyu-yeon’s heart tug.

When Gyu-yeon didn’t say anything, Naru took his hand first. He forced the bouquet into Gyu-yeon’s large palm and smiled as brightly as he could.

“Thanks for finding me.”

“…”

Though his conscience pricked at him, something swelled inside Gyu-yeon. He wasn’t an idiot—why was Naru thanking him for finding him? Remembering that he’d almost gone home without him left him feeling guilty.

Gyu-yeon spun his head away instead of answering. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Naru’s face—those pure eyes were dangerously captivating.

Naru gripped Gyu-yeon’s shoulder and leaned his face closer, hoping now to get the answer he wanted.

“Gyu-yeon, can I like you? Can I love you?”

“…”

“I hope someday you’ll like me too, but can I like you first?”

It was a direct question. Gyu-yeon was unusually flustered—he wasn’t used to being approached like this.

He looked utterly innocent, but his forwardness bulldozed Gyu-yeon’s composure.

When Gyu-yeon covered his eyes with one hand, Naru squirmed and withdrew his arm, urging him to look and answer.

In the end, Gyu-yeon raised the white flag first today too.

“Do as you wish.”

“Huh?”

“I said, do as you want.”

At the affirmative reply, Naru’s cheeks flushed like ripe apples. “Do as you wish” meant it was okay to like him. He finally had an answer. It wasn’t an admission of love, but not being pushed away was enough.

Naru, who’d been clinging as if to hug Gyu-yeon, returned to his seat. He had a knack for stealing a person’s breath away. He didn’t realize the full effect he had on Gyu-yeon.

“Buckle your seatbelt.”

“…”

“Sigh, why are you looking at me like that? You want me to buckle it for you myself?”

Naru sat motionless when told to buckle up. Unable to bear it, Gyu-yeon asked in disbelief, and Naru nodded as if waiting to be told—an absurd, annoying action he oddly found hard to resist.

After a few seconds of silence, Gyu-yeon couldn’t help himself and fastened the seatbelt. It was funny how he complied despite his reluctance. Naru stared intently at his nearness.

He had a handsome face, a good body, and an attractive scent—always a perfect man.

As Gyu-yeon clipped in the belt and settled, he noticed Naru’s expression: desperately holding back a smile.

“Stop coming on so strong. It’s all over your face.”

“Ah, no, it’s not like that.”

He lightly flicked Naru’s forehead and grabbed the wheel. Unlike the rush to the department store, he didn’t speed on the way home.

Naru’s wistful yet radiant smile lodged in Gyu-yeon’s mind and wouldn’t fade, making it hard to concentrate on driving.

Whoa, could it be—am I starting to have feelings for him?

No, no. Not true. No. Focus on driving, Yu Gyu-yeon.

Was the way home always this long? Gyu-yeon turned on music to clear his head and gently pressed the accelerator.