Chapter 65

Do Geon-hyuk, and Do Geon-hu. They were brothers. Half-brothers.

The older brother Geon-hyuk was born from a contractual marriage, and Geon-hu was born from an affair. Because of that, although they inherited the same father’s blood, the two were treated very differently.

One of them followed a smooth path to inherit their father’s company, and the other had to live in hiding so as not to stain the family name. Of course, Geon-hu fell into the latter category.

Gyu-yeon, who used to hang out with Geon-hyuk, was also well acquainted with his younger brother Geon-hu.

When Gyu-yeon first saw Geon-hu, he kept his distance because of the stigma of being a concubine’s child. Then, after accidentally having a conversation with him, Gyu-yeon belatedly tossed aside those prejudices.

Gyu-yeon got along better with Geon-hu than with Geon-hyuk. Their personalities were similar, and Gyu-yeon liked Geon-hu’s straightforward way of acting.

He had kept in occasional contact with Geon-hu. There were long gaps between messages at times, but whenever they met it never felt awkward.

Geon-hu, who had left home and lived on his own, drifted from one part-time job to another. Gyu-yeon always felt sorry for him.

Just as their contact became sparse again, Do-min told him he was quitting, and by good timing he got in touch with Geon-hu. Gyu-yeon immediately offered him a job at his Cafe.

Geon-hu accepted the offer without hesitation. He’d been exhausted from always doing rough jobs, but he thought he could work relatively easily at Gyu-yeon’s Cafe.

“You probably saw a bit—looks like you got pretty close with Naru.”

“Ah, when we worked at the farm, there was no one my age except them.”

Gyu-yeon, taking the signed contract, casually let the remark slip. Geon-hu answered honestly. He wasn’t sure if he’d become close with Naru, but thinking of their time at the farm, it seemed fair to call them friends.

Naru was really intriguing. Clumsy in some ways yet capable, and seeming awkward in ways unlike others Naru’s age. Geon-hu had approached out of curiosity, but it wasn’t that he held romantic feelings.

Gyu-yeon, who nodded at the clear answer, handed over a uniform. Judging by his actions, he still seemed suspicious.

Geon-hu suddenly recalled Naru at the farm—clutching a dead phone and whining. The person they must have wanted to contact then was definitely Gyu-yeon.

“Gyu-yeon hyung, is it really okay for you to hang out with them?”

“That’s not something you should worry about.”

“No, that’s not what I meant to ask. No, never mind.”

Gyu-yeon misunderstood the question and hardened his expression. Geon-hu smiled amiably and backtracked. There was no need to pry into the relationship between the two.

The unnecessary question made the mood awkward. Fortunately, Gyu-yeon broke the silence and called Seo-yeon.

“Please train the new hire.”

“Yes, leave it to me.”

After patting Geon-hu on the back a couple of times, Gyu-yeon went to check on Naru. Seo-yeon, who had hurried over at the mention of training, offered a bright smile and extended her hand for a handshake.

“Oh, Geon-hu? You can just call me Seo-yeon. Let’s get along from today.”

“I’m in your care. There’s no turf here, that’s nice.”

“Oh my, of course there’s no turf! You don’t have to worry about that.”

When the two outgoing people met, the atmosphere quickly grew loud. Seo-yeon got excited by Geon-hu’s easygoing manner and fussed over him. She had worried he might look shady, but luckily he wasn’t as scary as she’d imagined.

Geon-hu learned the job quite quickly. With lots of part-time experience, he had a knack for moving on instinct.

He was so good at work that he could look after Naru, who had started a month earlier. It was thanks to the experience from a Cafe part-time job he did a year ago.

“Hey, hey, Song Naru, how long are you going to be scooping like that?”

“I can do it.”

“Ugh, frustrating. Look, since I do it, it’s done in one go.”

“…How did you do that?”

The cookies that were being placed one by one into the packaging containers tumbled out in a heap. Geon-hu skillfully packed the cookies and immediately opened the next box. Naru, watching, silently admired him.

Gyu-yeon, pacing around to check the store, witnessed the scene and shifted his weight. It was fine for them to be close, but their intimacy grated on him. Still, he couldn’t be childish and show jealousy, so he swallowed the sudden surge of emotion.

But Naru poured fuel on Gyu-yeon’s burning jealousy.

“Wow, they’re really strong.”

“I’m pretty solidly built.”

“Then move this one too.”

“Hey, you keep making me do things like that?”

As Naru grunted carrying a box of ingredients, Geon-hu stepped in to help. Naru praised and egged him on, then asked him to move the remaining boxes too.

Why did it make him irritated when it was such a trivial thing?

With his brow furrowed, Gyu-yeon quietly stared at Geon-hu’s back. He did look reassuringly big.

Of course Gyu-yeon’s physique was superior, but Naru’s gaze was fixed on Geon-hu. Today those round eyes seemed annoyingly cute.

As he bit back a curse inside, something suddenly came to mind. Naru’s faint voice buzzed in Gyu-yeon’s head.

“‘Kind, good, like an angel, someone who listens to me and is reliable…’

It was Naru’s ideal type that he’d heard once—kind, good, reliable. At the time Gyu-yeon thought Naru meant him. But on second thought, that didn’t seem to be the case.

Somehow, in this situation, it might be more like Geon-hu…?

A pointless thought. Gyu-yeon forced his mind clear and approached the two who were together.

“Song Naru, come over here.”

“Why?”

Naru turned their head and their eyes sparkled. Gyu-yeon was embarrassed by what he’d done. He’d called out in a moment of jealousy, but had nothing appropriate to ask them to do.

Why have I become so childish. Sigh.

While wondering what to say, the savory smell of bread wafted in. They were taking freshly baked croissants out of the kitchen. Gyu-yeon seized the moment and picked up a croissant.

“What the—?”

The pâtissier, looking proud as he watched the croissant, gaped in disbelief. It was bread meant for display, and someone had snatched it the moment it came out. As the owner, Gyu-yeon couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“Try it and see if it tastes good.”

“Can I eat it?”

“Yeah, eat it.”

Also surprised, Naru absentmindedly bit into the bread. Since it had just come out, the crust was crispy and the inside so hot steam rose from it.

Naru turned their head to let the steam cool and gave a thumbs up. Hot as it was, the croissant was as delicious as ever.

The croissant, a staple of this Cafe, was so popular it sold out as soon as it was displayed. Its consistent taste earned it high praise.

But of all things, making them taste-test the croissant felt strange. The pâtissier secretly slipped a piece into his mouth without Gyu-yeon noticing.

“That’s really strange.”

The texture of the croissant remained excellent—crispy yet chewy and deliciously nutty.

Is the owner being picky again?

The pâtissier glanced sidelong at Gyu-yeon and gaped. He’d thought Gyu-yeon was being unusually picky because he was in a bad mood, but then…

Gyu-yeon’s eyes were curved like half-moons. Not only that—his mouth was pulled up into a grin that seemed stuck there. The way he treated Naru was dripping with sweetness and felt oddly unfamiliar.

“Mmm, it’s good.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Then I’ll get back to work,”

“Where do you think you’re going? There’s more to do.”

It was when Naru had finished the croissant and turned around. Gyu-yeon hurriedly grabbed their shoulder to stop them. It was brazen—feeding them bread as a flimsy excuse and then saying there was more to do to keep them there.

Naru, standing puzzled, peeked toward the kitchen. He noticed the oven was still running. Only croissants had just come out—what else was he supposed to taste?

Still, pleased to be next to Gyu-yeon, Naru said nothing. They were told it was an owner-staff relationship at the Cafe, but it felt no different from usual.

“Ah, do it.”

“Ahh.”

Gyu-yeon took a macaron from near the counter. It wasn’t something that needed tasting, so it was odd that he took it out to feed them.

At Gyu-yeon’s words, Naru opened their mouth in a small O. Gyu-yeon, tearing open the packaging himself, popped a pale pink macaron into their small mouth.

Naru, chewing like a baby bird being fed, smiled brightly. A sweet macaron was always nice to eat—especially the cold, creamy filling’s texture.

“But why are you giving me this?”

“I told you, to try how it tastes.”

“This one doesn’t need tasting…”

“Talking back again.”

His conscience pricked. Even though Naru was right, Gyu-yeon cut him off sternly and covered Naru’s mouth.

Afterwards Gyu-yeon put another macaron into Naru’s mouth and, not satisfied, fed them a slice of cake. He snapped up every pastry the pâtissiers produced and fed it to Naru.

Rubbing their full stomach, Naru pressed their lips together. This time he offered an egg tart. At this point it was closer to a meal than a taste test.

“Song Naru, ah—”

“Ah, I won’t. I have to go help with that.”

Refusing Gyu-yeon’s gesture, Naru pointed back with his eyes. He saw Geon-hu finishing moving the ingredient boxes and tidying up the trash bags.

Following the gaze, Gyu-yeon’s eyes widened. He was annoyed by hearing Geon-hu’s name all morning long. In truth, Geon-hu hadn’t done anything wrong.

When Gyu-yeon said nothing, Naru quietly took a step. Taking the silence as permission, they were about to go to Geon-hu.

Thud!

But Gyu-yeon’s jealousy was stronger than expected. In an instant he grabbed Naru and pulled their slight body close. Naru, drawn along limply, ended up with their nose pressed against Gyu-yeon’s broad shoulder.

He hadn’t intended this posture, but the situation flowed oddly. It wasn’t like they were showing off as a couple, yet the gentle embrace felt embarrassing.