At first glance, the documents seemed to be haphazardly piled up like a mountain, but in reality, there was a certain order to them.
Yoonshin fumbled around the cluttered periphery of the desk in his office, precisely finding what he wanted, and placed a thick stack of papers on the desk. Then he adjusted the phone he had wedged between his shoulder and ear, and replied.
“Are you saying that this month makes three years?”
“Yes, last Monday.”
The person on the other end of the line was a star instructor who lectured at a very famous language institute in Jongno. Not long ago, he had requested Yoonshin’s services, saying that it had been exactly three years since his wife left home.
His spouse had suddenly left behind a single note essentially saying “don’t look for me” and gone incommunicado. Because of his own fame, he hadn’t been able to conduct an open search, and quite a lot of time had passed in the meantime.
Yoonshin had heard this instructor’s name back in his university days. That was how prominent a figure he was. He was well-educated and had a great deal to lose. Yoonshin could understand the claim that, given such standing, he had been cautious in his response out of fear that unnecessary scandal would diminish his worth.
But no matter how he looked at it, this attitude of passive neglect was incomprehensible. The person who had vanished was not merely a friend or colleague, but a spouse with whom he had promised to spend his life. There should have been various search methods he could have attempted discreetly behind the scenes; the fact that he had left her unfound and abandoned for such a long time surely indicated some intention.
The man’s following words proved that fact.
“I heard the law says three years. That if a spouse’s life or death is unknown for more than three years, a divorce suit is possible. That’s why I contacted Attorney Do, who is quite well-known.”
He wasn’t so arrogant as to claim he knew everything about human nature, but after meeting with various clients every day, Yoonshin had developed a certain instinct for judgment.
Perhaps this man had been considering divorce from the very moment his wife left home. Moreover, the odds were high that the reason his spouse had attempted to leave was also this man’s own doing.
However, only accepting cases from flawless clients was a luxury unimaginable, at least in Doguk. Though Yoonshin was hardly fond of this case, he drew a circle at the top of the documents as a sign that he would accept it.
“That’s right. It is stipulated as three years. Article 840, Paragraph 5 of the Civil Code.”
“Is there no law that would annul the marriage if contact is cut off for even longer than that?”
“There is no such provision in the Constitution, provided death has not occurred. Since you made your vows under a system established by the state, you must file a lawsuit to invalidate it.”
“If by any chance her whereabouts are unknown but she is alive, what happens then?”
Rustle. Yoonshin’s hand, which had been turning a sheet of paper over, stopped. It was because he saw Seheon, who had finished a meeting, returning to his office across from him.
Secretary Tak opened the door for him. Judging by the continuing conversation, it seemed he was briefly reporting on calls that had come in or important matters while Seheon had been away. Having heard this, Seheon seemed to give some additional instructions, send Secretary Tak off somewhere, and enter his room.
Wanting to see him more clearly, Yoonshin rose slightly from his seat. He then sat perched on his desk, eagerly waiting for Seheon to turn his gaze this way, and just then, their eyes met as Seheon turned around. A sharp stare fixed clearly on him.
Yoonshin’s face lit up, and he waved. But Seheon simply pulled down the blinds.
The blunt sound of them snapping shut seemed to reach him even here.
‘Truly, your manners are as straight as a pine tree too.’
The problem was that he found even that harsh side, which showed no mercy even to his lover, so adorable he felt like he was going crazy.
‘I like Kang Seheon so much, damn it.’
Yoonshin, who had squirmed inwardly, calmly opened his mouth again.
“So you’re saying that even if you don’t know where your wife is, if it’s proven that she is alive? Hmm, in that case, it doesn’t fall under these grounds for divorce. Then you would have to file on the grounds of ‘malicious desertion.’”
“Please give me a definite answer. So in Attorney Do Yoonshin’s opinion, you’re saying that in my case, it’s possible to file the suit even without my wife present? Because her whereabouts are unknown?”
The moment he heard his own name being invoked with a request for certainty, he realized. This man seemed to be recording the call. Most likely to find a way to shift the blame onto the attorney if something went wrong midway. Or to dig himself an escape route in case his wife’s whereabouts were uncovered during litigation preparations.
Honestly, having dealt with such clients more than once or twice, he had developed his own inner strength.
Yoonshin narrowed his eyes slightly and frowned, responding in a smooth yet rigidly multifaceted tone.
“Yes. Since serving the complaint and ensuring attendance at trial is difficult, we simply need to prove that her life or death has been unknown for three years. Then the court will serve the complaint via public notice service[1], and hold what is called a trial in absentia[2] without the spouse appearing.”
Being unknown whether alive or dead was evidence that the spouse had been unable to maintain the relationship, making it quite serious grounds for divorce. Even if the reappearing spouse objected to the outcome, the marriage was not revived. That was precisely why the remaining party had to rigorously prove that confirming life or death was difficult.
“Then what should I do? I’ve pulled together things like card usage records.”
This client seemed to have meticulously prepared evidence in advance.
“Our firm secretary’s office will send you a list sometime today. Please organize whatever information you can provide to us from among that and reply by next week. After reviewing the contents, I will contact you again. Let’s arrange a formal meeting at the firm then.”
“I’ll be counting on you.”
“Yes, goodbye.”
Having ended the call, Yoonshin looked at the darkened phone screen and quietly swallowed.
There were times when he had to take on such unpleasant cases. There weren’t any disqualifying reasons to refuse representation. Nor was the client particularly a bad person. Yet every time he took on a case that left a subtly bitter aftertaste, he felt strange.
Shaking his head, he picked up the documents he had circled a moment ago and rose from his seat.
When he stepped out and headed toward the secretarial office, he saw the office manager rise slightly as if to ask if he needed something.
“Oh, Office Manager. You don’t need to get up.”
Yoonshin approached the partition directly and waved his hand again as if to say it was fine, handing over the documents.
“This person. Please send them our information cooperation manual. Let me know when the reply comes.”
“Spouse missing, unknown life or death… Huh, you’re taking this case first? I put up several cases that I thought you would be interested in. Domestic violence cases, cases that urgently need help. Aren’t you taking those?”
“The team leader said to do this one first because he’s very famous. I’ll take them one by one.”
“Ah, the family law team leader. I wonder if he doesn’t care too much about fame. Somehow lately it feels like Attorney Do only takes these kinds of cases.”
“Indeed.”
“Anyway, yes, understood.”
Although the secretarial office, which now well knew Yoonshin’s tendencies, would select and bring him cases on their own, when orders came down directly from above, it was only natural that those took precedence.
Having given the office manager a glance of thanks for her consideration, he furtively gauged the secretary team staff’s attention and approached Seheon’s door as naturally as possible. When he carefully knocked, a low voice answered “Yes” faintly from inside.
Opening the door, Yoonshin poked only his face through the gap and quietly stared at Seheon, who was immersed in looking at documents.
When several seconds passed without any sign of the other entering, and only a gaze quietly observing him could be felt, Seheon, who had been concentrating on his work, also raised his head to look this way. Written in his cold eyes was this:
I knew it was you.
It seemed to mean that he was the only one who would open the door to his own office and waste time in such a manner. Paying no heed to the silent reproach, Yoonshin pushed his lips out as if asking for a kiss.
Seheon observed this with an exasperated look, but soon turned his gaze back to his desk.
Having already been shut out by the blinds from that room once, Yoonshin felt like tearing up. Unwilling to lose, he kept his position and closed his eyes slightly, begging more insistently for a kiss. Though his vision was blocked by darkness so he couldn’t be sure, he was confident that Seheon had glanced his way at least once.
And sure enough.
A light clack of a pen being tossed was heard, and he slowly lifted his eyelids.
Seheon was leaning back against his chair in an arrogant posture, staring straight at him.
“Stop fooling around, close the door, and come in.”
Only then, intoxicated by the sense of victory, did he close the door and enter inside. He walked over and stood before Seheon, who didn’t lift a single finger, as if to show that he could see right through him.
“If you have something to say. Brief me, keeping it as concise as possible, though I’m sure you know that.”
“If you told me to come in, you should have felt me up first or something.”
“I desperately want to as well, but not right now. I’ll play with you in two hours. Business.”
“Are you very busy? I thought this week would be a bit better.”
“Generally fine. But something urgent came up that I need to look at.”
He could feel that Seheon was tolerating him as much as possible despite being busy. Yoonshin finally realized that his timing was off.
Now that they were on different teams, he couldn’t immediately know when urgent matters requiring resolution would arise for Seheon, or when he would need time to handle them. That was why such occurrences happened very occasionally. Feeling somehow anxious, Yoonshin brought up the main point right away.
“I’ll use my first wish today. Let’s leave work together later.”
Seheon crossed his arms and furrowed his brows slightly.
“Is this the prelude to wishes multiplying on their own? The one who’s going to get taken advantage of should prepare himself mentally.”
When he had used the first wish, Seheon had broken the rules, so Yoonshin’s wishes had returned to three. As the lamp’s genie, it was natural for him to ask if Yoonshin was going to keep making them multiply like this going forward.
“No. I’ll use exactly three from now on.”
At this answer, Seheon made a look of surprise.
“Shortcuts make life quite convenient, you know?”
“It’s because I’m a conscientious person… rather than that, now that I think about it, it’s because you concede too much every single moment, Senior. I must really be an idiot. I know, but I sometimes forget. You’re enduring this even though every second is precious right now, aren’t you?”
“I am enduring.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It certainly seems like I’m enduring.”
“Well… because I love you too much?”
“…”
“Staying silent at this timing won’t really help your life.”
“Obviously, that’s why. Even if you’re an idiot, don’t forget that.”
Seheon seemed to desperately want Yoonshin to understand that his current nonchalant attitude wasn’t because he found this troublesome or bothersome.
With each and every one of Seheon’s words, Yoonshin’s mood soared. Though his emotional ups and downs weren’t particularly loud, Kang Seheon accomplished this feat effortlessly. Sometimes, even without direct words, it was enough. Even roundabout words, even passive agreement borrowed from Yoonshin’s own language—he knew they were difficult confessions for someone who had never liked anyone before. That was why every expression of Seheon’s was precious to Yoonshin.
Feeling as if he might fly, he broke into a bright smile.
“I love you much more. I’ll stop bothering you and go. Do what you were doing. See you later.”
Afraid he would dawdle thinking “just one more second, just one more second” out of reluctance, he hurriedly turned his back on Seheon. But Seheon called him back.
“Yoonshin.”
“Is there something you need? I’ll tell the office manager on my way out.”
“Aren’t you the one who forgot something?”
When Yoonshin seemed not to understand, Seheon provided a hint himself. He tilted his head languidly and lightly tapped his own lips with his long index finger.
Ah. As if realizing something important belatedly, Yoonshin quickly ran to Seheon. He cupped the pale cheeks with both hands and stamped his claim with a smooch, a kiss, then pulled away. In addition, he flicked his tongue over Seheon’s lips, which were positioned very close, and then bowed politely.
While Yoonshin immediately turned to leave as if signaling he wouldn’t disturb him further, Seheon, left in the office, silently watched his retreating figure.
Thud. The moment the door closed, the pen dropped from between his straight fingers as he tried to grip his fountain pen again. Seheon looked down at it emptily and dry-washed his face in irritation.
Though Yoonshin had already disappeared, the fair face that had peeked through the slightly opened door with eyes closed came to mind. Thirst rose and his throat felt itchy. Instinctively, he lightly brushed his fingers over the lips Yoonshin had just touched, then put his finger between his lips.
And the moment he tried to push his fingertip deeper inside, he hesitated.
“I’m crazy.”
Finding himself ridiculous, he shook his head.
* * *
Yoonshin chose carefully, and carefully, and carefully again.
In fact, Seheon usually granted whatever Yoonshin asked. However, there were definitely a few things that even he absolutely would not do.
For example, telling his older sister about their relationship, or combining their homes into one because going back and forth was complicated, or properly wearing matching couple rings—things like that. He intended to use this opportunity to settle a few things from that unknown territory that Seheon might not find so difficult to grant.
While pondering, this place suddenly came to mind.
This is it.
And so, they had currently arrived at the parking lot of a large warehouse-style supermarket quite far from the firm residence.
Seheon, in the driver’s seat, glanced outside the front windshield and gripped the steering wheel hard as if he couldn’t believe it. Then, as expected, he declared a rejection.
“No.”
Of course, Yoonshin had expected this.
Yoonshin unbuckled his seatbelt and replied nonchalantly.
“It’s a wish. How can you act like this now? I chose something relatively soft, you know.”
“Nothing soft about it. To me, this is gore. Don’t you know?”
“You do everything else for me, but you say no to this trivial thing, which makes me want to do it even more. Attorney, you always advise clients to do this properly, so why don’t you do it yourself?”
“That’s the same as th— Two men pushing a cart and shopping for daily necessities? Disgusting. I’ve never even been to a large supermarket to begin with. Make it something else.”
Somehow feeling there was an answer inside him, Yoonshin tested the waters.
“You already have an answer in your head regardless of my wishes, don’t you, Senior Partner?”
“I happen to have had my eye on one property. I think it would work if I purchase it first under a borrowed name, then transfer it under another borrowed name. I’m telling you in advance because you’ll make a fuss about whether it’s illegal or unlawful, but I’ll pay exactly the amount of tax the National Tax Service tells me to pay.”
“A property you had your eye on?”
Yoonshin’s eyes sparkled, hooked by that single term. Hope surged—could it be that he was talking about leaving the firm residence to live together, just the two of them? The firm residence was close to the firm and convenient to maintain, but it also had the clear disadvantage of always having to be careful about their behavior.
As if he thoroughly knew what Yoonshin was thinking just from his expression, Seheon added an explanation.
“It’s for asset management. Earn some money on your own.”
Even now, Yoonshin earned overwhelmingly well compared to his peers. Of course, he couldn’t compare to Seheon, but that wasn’t why Seheon was doing this.
Not long ago, his older sister had replaced his second car for him. He had driven it for quite a long time, and his birthday had also coincided, so she had given it as a gift. Since then, Seheon had clearly disliked it and seemed to have expanded his thoughts to this point.
He disliked that she was exerting physical influence on Yoonshin, who was “hers.”
“Forget that and please commit to living with me.”
“We’re already doing half of that.”
“That’s different from the firm residence. No, we have sex with everything off, disgustingly so, but why is this so objectionable? Fine. Grocery shopping with me. That’s my wish. Non-negotiable.”
“Do…”
“Failed. Get out.”
The moment he had barely spat out the surname out of his three-character name, Yoonshin ruthlessly cut him off. Then, as if no further room for discussion was permitted, he got out of the car first. Seheon, sitting in the driver’s seat and conflicted for a moment, finally bit his lower lip hard and got out reluctantly.
Yoonshin pulled out a cart from the pile stacked in the corner of the underground parking lot and motioned to him.
Approaching with an oddly reluctant air, Seheon stroked his chin with an expression full of complex signs.
“If you’re trying to turn me into a housewife, let’s find another way.”
“Don’t worry. You suit being an attorney much more.”
“Then is there any way you could leave me alone so I can hire replacement labor for housework?”
The housekeeper Gang Seheon employed only bought products of specific brands from a high-end food mart and the nearby department store. From this wealthy patron, who had an extraordinary talent for increasing assets, there were no other demands or conditions apart from brand designation.
If he disliked the industrial products bought at this kind of warehouse supermarket, that would be understandable. But it wasn’t even that. If Yoonshin brought things from a small supermarket or convenience store and gave them to him, he would silently use them as they were.
In other words, this man had no interest or hobby in the everyday goods that formed the basis of daily life.
“Think of this as trying something new.”
“Are you dissatisfied that I’m a socially very successful lover? Aren’t you too blessed?”
“Why do you think the saying exists that if you save a drowning person, they should offer their bundle? It means this isn’t just me being like this since ancient times. Here, take this.”
Yoonshin casually held out the cart handle to Seheon. He looked down at the cart with an expression of distaste, knowing unspecified numerous hands had touched it, then moved his body as if admitting defeat.
“Good grief… Get out of the way.”
Finally, he grabbed it and walked ahead.
Yoonshin, following beside Seheon, smiled secretly and asked softly.
“Why do you dislike it so much? Do you have bad memories at a supermarket? You said you’ve never even been to one.”
“I feel uncomfortable with this kind of peaceful atmosphere.”
It was somehow just like him, yet a somewhat unexpected answer.
“Because you’re busy while everyone else looks relaxed?”
“More than that, I’m afraid I’ll come to know the feeling of worrying about what to eat tomorrow, whether the shampoo in the bathroom has run out, which detergent cleans better, how many rolls of toilet paper are left. That’s too…”
Seheon didn’t finish his sentence, seeming to have fallen deep into thought. Yet Yoonshin somehow felt he understood the words hidden behind the ellipsis. It felt like this was not a place for someone who had lived each day merely getting by.
“If this is happiness, then it means I’ve lived my whole life in misfortune.”
“…”
“That’s why I hate seeing other people being pointlessly happy.”
If it wasn’t something creepy or hateful, but merely unfamiliar and uncomfortable; if he was simply afraid of learning that sensation—then starting now, all Yoonshin had to do was teach him one thing at a time. Regretting that he should have pushed harder to bring him here sooner, Yoonshin gently fiddled with Seheon’s fingers.
It was very late, close to closing time, so the place was rather quiet. As Yoonshin looked around, he tilted his head in a blind spot just before the escalator and gave Seheon a peck, a kiss on the cheek.
“Voltaire said he would be happy. Why? Because it’s good for your health. You’re in trouble, Kang Seheon. You’re going to get sturdier now. And you’re already a monster of stamina as it is…”
Staring at Yoonshin as if to say “what nonsense,” he then burst into a short laugh and soon subtly offered the other side of his face, as if telling him to do this side too.
Yoonshin checked their surroundings again and kissed that spot too, after which Seheon finished by placing a kiss on Yoonshin’s lips, as if saying he would do the final one.
It seemed he wasn’t entirely unaware of the small wishes contained in “let’s shop together.”
Yoonshin had wanted to do this all along.
Unable to compose his already flushed cheeks from anticipation, Yoonshin took out his phone and got on the escalator first.
He opened the screen and showed it to Seheon, who was getting on after him.
“Senior, look at this. These are the things we need to buy today. Things we don’t have at home right now.”
He read the words rather carefully. Inside, it was written like this:
Buy milk, making sure to check the expiration date; choose sparkling water for Senior Partner after carefully checking the ingredients; butter and cheddar cheese with the lowest calories; cereal with granola included.
Up to there, he seemed to be taking it in relatively smoothly, when he suddenly frowned.
Reading his reaction, Yoonshin realized roughly where he was in the list and smiled awkwardly, holding the cart across from him.
“Is this possible?”
Instead of answering the question, he harshly spat out the list Yoonshin had written in a rigid voice.
“Me trying to buy alcohol and Senior Partner stopping me.”
“…Is that not allowed?”
“Senior Partner choosing fruit and me scolding him that the freshness is poor.”
“I’m confident I can do that.”
“Trying to stock up by comparing prices on a two-pack of shampoo, but Senior Partner switches it out saying this one smells better. Offering to carry the rice because it’s heavy instead… I can’t read anymore.”
As if saying this was utterly impossible, Seheon returned the phone to Yoonshin with a tap and, as if that weren’t enough, pushed his flat abdomen out with the cart.
Creaking like an articulated doll, Yoonshin was pushed backward and barely got off the escalator, glaring at him.
“Aren’t you taking too much advantage of the fact that I’m a man?”
“Even so, how can you backpedal like that? You have to hold your ground. You’ll fall. Come here.”
He had pushed him, but when Yoonshin staggered backward, he instantly stuck his hand out.
Yoonshin stared at the clean, beautiful hand with neatly trimmed nails, then reluctantly grabbed it as if he were just going along with it and stood side by side with Seheon. It was truly strange, but his heart pounded as if it might burst.
To think he would hear words like “You’ll fall, come here,” spoken as if handling a child, from that Kang Seheon.
This was why dating Seheon was so wonderful. Just when he thought he knew everything about him, he would show another side, and implicitly let him know that this specialness was only his.
People passing by glanced at the two walking side by side, whether because they recognized them or simply because they were interested in Seheon’s handsome looks. Seheon brushed it off as nothing and gripped Yoonshin’s shoulder tightly. With his other hand, he pushed the cart and walked.
As a bonus, he whispered low into Yoonshin’s tense ear.
“What’s the concept. Newlyweds?”
As always, Yoonshin confessed readily.
“Of course. But people are staring here too. We came far away on purpose; do you think they recognized you, Senior Partner?”
“What can you do, high risk high return. Ah, vegetables and fruit are over here.”
Moving to the fruit corner to avoid the gazes on them, Yoonshin put some individually packaged cherries into the cart.
Then he suddenly turned his gaze to Seheon. Seheon was in the midst of observing Yoonshin’s own careful selection with some interest.
Since the housekeeper who came to their home regularly filled the refrigerator, Yoonshin didn’t actually have much to worry about. So while he could roughly guess which fruits were good, it was difficult to judge clearly.
But when he pretended to examine the fruit as if skilled, Seheon gestured with his eyes as if he could see right through the act.
“Do Yoonshin, you don’t know how to pick fruit, do you.”
“This is fresh and delicious.”
“Are you sure?”
“Fresh… might not be, but it should taste good.”
When Yoonshin showed him a bright red apple that was a bit soft inside a transparent bag, Seheon let out a short sigh.
He reached out and picked up a bag containing apples with yellow bottoms around the base and deeply embedded stems. Not only that, but he felt to see if they were firm and then swapped them for what Yoonshin had chosen, placing them in the cart.
“If you’re going to write a drama outline, doing proper research is basic, isn’t it?”
Irritated, Yoonshin picked up his bag again and retorted.
“What if my choice was the right one? You’re making a big mistake right now.”
“I don’t make mistakes. Put it down.”
“Yes…”
Shaking his head as if there was no chance, he moved toward the vegetable corner.
Feeling awkward, Yoonshin put down the apple and followed. Thinking about it, the roles had reversed, but ultimately, he had faithfully kept to the direction of the shopping list he had written. Feeling giddy, he leaned against Seheon’s arm as if clinging to it and acted spoiled, making Seheon burst into a short laugh.
The two picked some salad greens and put a few dressings in the cart. What Seheon chose were all flavors Yoonshin often ate. What Yoonshin chose was exactly the opposite. It was interesting how accurately they grasped each other’s tastes. It also made him happy to feel how much attention Seheon paid to him normally.
As they continued shopping, surprisingly, Yoonshin was clumsy while Seheon was skilled.
While Yoonshin searched the internet and skimmed reviews for products from brands he was seeing for the first time, Seheon personally checked and compared nutrients and such. As they steadily picked out grains, meat, frozen foods, and other such items, the cart quickly filled up.
"Let's go upstairs now."
"Did you choose everything here?"
"Yes, I'm out of shampoo. We need to buy that and dairy products."
As they rode the escalator up, Seheon, holding the cart, pulled Yoonshin's hand. Though there were a few people coming down on the opposite side, they instead boldly overlapped their hands. Yoonshin, having grown cautious just in case, flinched, the back of his hand twitching. In response, Seheon naturally intertwined their fingers, pressing down tighter. Turning his head to look at the wall, Yoonshin's cheeks flushed red.
Moving to the corner where body products and such were displayed, a fragrant scent tickled the tip of his nose, unlike the floor below. Yoonshin carefully smelled the shampoos' scents himself. Having Seheon smell them as well, he held two bottles at the most reasonable price point, one in each hand.
"This is the one I usually use."
Yoonshin first let him smell the scent of the purple bottle, then soon showed him the sky-blue bottle in his opposite hand.
"I'm going to try buying this one this time. What do you think? Since you'll be using it too, I'll take your opinion."
Seheon savored the scent of the second shampoo to the tip of his nose but didn't answer for a moment. He simply kept his gaze fixed on him. A puzzled Yoonshin tilted his head.
"Is it because it's not the expensive brand you use? We're going to leave it at our house, so just compromise."
At that, he, who had been silent again, suddenly reached out and grabbed a handful of Yoonshin's hair. While tilting his head to smell the scent, their bodies pressed close together. Yoonshin quickly checked if there were people passing by nearby, and while Seheon was focused on his scent, he kissed his long neck with a 'smooch' and asked,
"Why all of a sudden."
He still didn't say much and reached behind Yoonshin's head. Then he opened the outer lid of a beige bottle and held it to the tip of Yoonshin's nose. It was the shampoo with the most simple and clean scent among the ones he had let him smell while picking out various items earlier.
Seheon snatched both the purple and sky-blue bottles from his hands, returned them to their places, and placed the one he had personally chosen into the cart. He added these words as well:
"This scent suits you better."
Inevitably, the shopping list Yoonshin had written down came to mind.
Switch to this because Chief says this scent is better.
As he mulled it over, a smile more fragrant than the shampoo's scent formed at his lips. But then it withered like a flower slowly fading. Not understanding the reason for this sudden temperature difference, Seheon asked in a slightly subdued voice.
"Why, do you want to redo the concept meeting?"
"No. I like it so much. Really, I like it so much."
"For your information, that really does suit you better."
"I'm going to use only this shampoo from now on."
Because you're so sweet. But you're kind only to me. Because only I know that.
Because I like it so, so, so much.
That overwhelming emotion rather troubled him.
He wanted to have him in a more legitimate, clearer form. He wished everyone knew that Kang Seheon was his, that he was such a considerate person to him. Instead of hiding to secretly kiss after the crowds had passed like this, he wanted to walk holding hands, and sometimes wanted to hold each other's waists tight even while receiving gazes from those around them.
It was a natural consequence that when affection arose between lovers, they would envision a future spent together longer. Yoonshin had always kept forms like engagement or marriage in the back of his mind. However, at the same time, he was also aware that it was something that could never be realized.
So until now, he had considered it merely one of the enjoyable topics of conversation that solidified their affection, one that was pleasant even to imagine. But suddenly, a sensation that he couldn't bear unless he completely possessed Kang Seheon welled up from deep inside, making it hard to endure.
Swallowing dryly, Yoonshin pulled Seheon along, erasing his expression with effort as he moved to the dairy corner.
"I want to go grocery shopping like this with you sometimes, sunbae."
When he suddenly blurted out such words, Seheon, who had been choosing butter in front of the showcase, paused. Perhaps since he had actually done it, it wasn't so bad, and he nodded.
"Do that."
"What about you, sunbae? Isn't there anything you want to do with me? I can do anything for you, so why don't you ever say anything?"
No matter what he wanted to do, Seheon wouldn't refuse. Even if he refused verbally, there was absolutely no way he would truly dislike it, and even if by some chance he did, he knew Seheon would yield at important moments.
Like today, right now.
He could do the same for him just as much, yet for some reason he rarely opened up. It felt exactly like the 1-centimeter distance Kang Seheon secretly kept. He wanted to tear it down.
Perhaps sensing that his condition was a bit strange, Seheon put down what he was holding and met his eyes.
"You have too many thoughts in your head."
"Hearing that from you is funny, sunbae."
"You already do everything I want. And…"
He seemed to gaze steadily at Yoonshin across the cart, then soon lightly brushed his flushed cheek with his thumb. That warm fingertip held a suppressed affection that couldn't be expressed in words.
"Well, I've really started wanting to marry you."
As if he had peered inside his thought process, Seheon returned the words he had truly wanted to hear. Inevitably, everything from Yoonshin's shoulders to his ankles turned to ice.
Kang Seheon loved him to the point of overflowing every moment and let him know it constantly, but hearing it in direct language was a matter of a different dimension. It was so good it sent shivers down his spine.
Why was it that when he was too happy, he ended up brushing it off playfully instead?
Perhaps because it felt like a mirage.
"And when was it that you said you were skeptical of that institution?"
"I know, right. We shouldn't come here often. Let's make it no more than once every two months."
Thud. He haphazardly grabbed butter, cheddar cheese, and even milk, putting them in the cart, then pulled Yoonshin's wrist. Then he had Yoonshin take the cart directly while pushing him from behind. The two naturally started walking again.
Even as they trudged toward the cereal corner, Yoonshin's mind was filled with Kang Seheon. He had always been the one to bring up such talk first as if joking, and it was the first time those words had emerged from Seheon's mouth spontaneously. It was a monumental occasion.
Could he perhaps bind this person a little more?
In some physical form.
Of course, living in the Republic of Korea, they might not be able to establish a grand relationship between men. So he had once asked if they should at least do couple rings as a minimal form of binding. The memory of him very clearly refusing, saying it was uncomfortable, came back vividly.
If he suddenly showed up wearing a ring one day, he knew he'd suffer all sorts of gossip—not only within the firm but throughout the entire legal community—about whether he was finally marrying his sister, or whether he had found another sponsor, so he couldn't bring himself to ask. He could clearly see how things would blow up.
But if he wanted it too, wouldn't that change things?
"Excuse me. Chief, no, Seheon sunbae."
Yoonshin stopped in front of instant foods like ramen and udon and opened his mouth with a serious expression. Seheon looked at him nonchalantly, appearing to wait for what would follow.
The moment Yoonshin took a deep breath to voice his thoughts, he flinched upon discovering the cup ramen visible behind his head.
The place was far too unromantic to bring up such a topic.
"Speak."
"...Huh? Ah, r-ramen, have you tried ramen?"
He gave him a look as if to ask why he was saying such absurd things, then soon answered plainly.
"I've eaten it before, and I have no intention of eating it again. If you're going to eat it, buy only yours."
Feeling something like self-reproach and distress, thinking 'This isn't it,' Yoonshin suddenly raised his head.
"Why not? Something so convenient, a product of civilized society... Mr. Kang Seheon, you're missing out on one of life's greatest pleasures right now."
"I'm an instant food hater. These are inventions that prove human laziness."
"If you act like this, it's troublesome."
"What's troublesome? Can it get any simpler than this?"
"It's because you're a picky eater and it's cute, so I want to tease you."
He furrowed his brows with an expression that found it hard to accept.
"Is this normally called being a picky eater? Academically."
"Forget it. Chief, you need to be lazy sometimes."
Thud. Yoonshin tossed the bundle of ramen he grabbed into the cart and shrugged his shoulders proudly. Seheon now seemed to have given up on interfering in this child's play.
"Fine. Play with it to your heart's content. If you don't know what 'aftermath' means, you'll just have to learn it the hard way by messing around."
Then, at the exact moment an elderly couple who had finished shopping passed by them, creating a brief blind spot, he pushed Yoonshin toward the display shelf and kissed him on the forehead with a 'smooch.' Then he composedly pulled the cart away as if nothing had happened.
Yoonshin, watching his slender retreating figure, looked down at the ring worn alone on the fourth finger of his left hand, then secretly smiled and hurriedly chased after him.