* * *

Soohyuk stepped out of Wonbeom’s room, his heart fluttering as he stood in front of Jingyeom’s door.

The thought that Jingyeom, whom he had missed so much, was behind that door made his once-calm heart pound.

Ever since Jingyeom had been sent away, Soohyuk had been getting through his days like a fan obsessing over a celebrity, relying on the photos of Jingyeom saved on his phone and the short video clips sent by Mrs. Jeong.

He had thought about following Wonbeom here, using the excuse of checking if Jingyeom was doing well, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t his safety at risk—it was Jingyeom’s.

Nervous after such a long time, Soohyuk exhaled sharply and knocked.

Knock, knock.

A moment later, the door opened, and Jingyeom appeared.

That brief moment seemed to slow down, like time itself was moving in slow motion, just like when he had seen Jingyeom so clearly in front of the office all those years ago.

The tension melted away from Soohyuk’s body and face in an instant. He was completely disarmed in a heartbeat.

“What if someone dangerous came to the door? You didn’t even check before opening.”

Though his tone was chiding, his expression was far from stern. In fact, his gaze was so sweet that it could embarrass anyone watching.

Jingyeom was supposed to respond, but he found himself lost, staring at Soohyuk’s face.

He had seen Soohyuk’s softened expressions and warm eyes many times before, but this was the first time he had seen such a loving gaze.

Afraid his cheeks might flush if he kept looking, Jingyeom quickly averted his eyes.

“…It wasn’t locked.”

“From now on, lock it. It’s dangerous.”

“What could possibly be dangerous…?”

“I don’t know. There might be more guys like me out there. Makes me anxious.”

Soohyuk gently lifted Jingyeom’s chin.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“…”

As he gazed intently into Jingyeom’s eyes, which kept looking away, Soohyuk leaned in closer.

Startled by the sudden movement, Jingyeom’s eyes widened, and he froze, forgetting to breathe.

Soohyuk released Jingyeom’s chin and, without waiting for permission, pulled him into a hug, burying his face deeply in Jingyeom’s hair.

The faint smell of the shampoo Soohyuk had carefully chosen lingered.

Even when he was overseas, Soohyuk had kept in touch constantly, and it had been torture not to meet or contact Jingyeom when they were just two hours apart under the same sky.

It was Soohyuk’s own decision, but he wouldn’t have gone through with it if Jingyeom’s safety hadn’t been at risk.

The anxiety that had been growing in his chest ever since seeing the CCTV footage of Jingyeom collapsing in the greenhouse didn’t seem to go away.

But ironically, now that he had Jingyeom in his arms, he felt at peace.

“…I missed you.”

Jingyeom almost blurted out that he had missed him too, unable to resist the desperate tone in Soohyuk’s voice.

Not being able to talk to Soohyuk daily had left him feeling empty, as if he’d skipped a part of his routine.

But knowing he couldn’t confess these feelings honestly, Jingyeom kept his mouth tightly shut.

Soohyuk, breathing in and out deeply, smiled warmly at the silence and muttered, “At times like this, you should at least say you missed me too, even if you don’t mean it.”

“…If I do, you’ll just get your hopes up again.”

“I can manage my own feelings. Don’t draw a line between us to spare me—it only hurts more.”

Soohyuk tightened his embrace, holding Jingyeom closer.

Even though Jingyeom was right there in his arms, it still didn’t feel like enough.

He wanted to feel him even more.

As he lifted his head, his eyes caught sight of the bed inside the room, and all the desires he had been suppressing began to rise to the surface.

But the sound of Jingyeom’s clear voice snapped him back to reality.

‘…You idiot, get a grip!’

Soohyuk shook his head, and Jingyeom spoke again.

“It hurts!”

“Oh, sorry.”

He loosened his hold but didn’t let Jingyeom go entirely.

“How long are you going to keep holding me?”

“Can’t we stay like this?”

“No. We can’t.”

Soohyuk squinted his eyes at the firm rejection, but couldn’t hide the smile lingering on his lips, revealing the unmistakable look of a man in love.

“Then, can I go into the room?”

“It’s your house, after all.”

“Even if it’s my house, this is your room. I shouldn’t go in without the owner’s permission.”

Though he would force his way in if refused, he still asked out of courtesy.

Jingyeom wriggled in place, trying to free himself from the arms holding him still.

Looking up, he met the sight of a firm chest in front of him and raised his head again.

“Now let me go.”

“No. I want to stay like this for a bit longer.”

“You said you wouldn’t do anything I don’t like. Do you know how often you break that promise?”

As Jingyeom grumbled, Soohyuk gently pressed his cheek against Jingyeom’s small crown.

“I really don’t do anything you hate. Just by looking at your face and listening to your voice, I can tell if you’re serious.”

“……”

“If you let me into the room, I’ll let you go.”

“I never actually refused in the first place… go ahead.”

Having set the condition himself, Soohyuk was reluctantly forced to follow through with his promise and released Jingyeom, although somewhat disappointed.

Jingyeom, finally free, massaged his numb arm and stepped aside so Soohyuk could enter the room.

Soohyuk slowly surveyed the room, and after a brief nod of approval, it was clear that he liked what he saw.

Just like the glass greenhouse, Jingyeom’s room had been carefully crafted.

Not only had 3D models been made for optimal structure, but even scaled-down prototypes were created.

From the flooring to the furniture, everything had been meticulously designed to minimize injury in case of accidents.

There wasn’t a single sharp edge on any of the furniture in the room.

Even the surfaces were sanded down, leaving no chance for Jingyeom to cut himself.

Expensive pieces worth millions of won were no exception; everything had been carefully dulled to ensure safety.

Jingyeom, unaware of all this, lived comfortably and safely in this wide and secure room, oblivious to the effort that had gone into its design.

Soohyuk gently guided Jingyeom by the shoulder to the sofa.

Sitting down next to him, Soohyuk crossed one leg onto the sofa, turning his body to face Jingyeom.

“How have you been?”

As he asked, he gently took Jingyeom’s hand, which was still massaging his arm, and began to rub it softly, careful not to cause any pain.

Noticing how even the brief embrace had left him sore, Soohyuk realized he’d need to be more careful in the future.

“I’ve been fine. What about you? Still busy?”

“Busy doesn’t seem to end. I think it’ll stay that way for a while.”

“What about Jinwoo?”

“Same for him. We work at the same company, after all. What have you been doing here?”

“Oh, just keeping busy with random things. Do you know when Jinwoo will stop being so busy?”

Soohyuk was curious about what Jingyeom had been up to, but all Jingyeom seemed to care about was Jinwoo.

Knowing that Soohyuk might not be up to date on Jinwoo’s whereabouts, since Jinwoo was Wonbeom’s assistant, Jingyeom asked anyway, hoping for an answer.

He’d even casually asked Wonbeom when he was here, but all he got in response was that Jinwoo was doing fine.

Although that was better than hearing he wasn’t, Jingyeom still wanted to know more.

Picking up on this, Soohyuk felt a pang of jealousy.

He had been missing Jingyeom to the point of withdrawal, yet all Jingyeom wanted was to find out about Jinwoo.

He didn’t want to respond at first, but seeing the concern on Jingyeom’s face, he reluctantly answered.

“He’ll be swamped for a few more months. It’s the same for me and Director Tak.”

“Oh… Do you know how long I’ll have to stay here? The construction should be finished by now… but I haven’t been able to get in touch.”

“Is it uncomfortable staying here? I put a lot of effort into this place. Don’t you like it?”

“No! I love it here. It’s just… not being able to contact anyone is a bit frustrating.”

For the first few days, Jingyeom kept himself busy, not thinking much about the lack of a phone.

He didn’t worry, believing he’d be able to go back soon.

But as days passed—one, two, three, four… time moved on relentlessly, and the phone remained out of service.

The only phone in the living room stayed broken, and it was starting to wear him down.

Even when he asked Mrs. Jeong, she only mentioned that it would take time since they were in the mountains.

If at least the phone had worked, he wouldn’t have felt so isolated.

Watching Jingyeom lower his gaze, Soohyuk licked his lips.

‘His expression doesn’t look too good.’

Having only received updates that he was doing well, Soohyuk hadn’t realized Jingyeom was struggling.

If they hadn’t spoken in person, he might have overlooked it completely.

Even when he’d spoken to Wonbeom, nothing of this sort was mentioned.

‘They’ve been together all this time, though.’

Since the day Wonbeom arrived, he had stayed constantly by Jingyeom’s side, even squeezing work into the late hours of the night.

If someone as perceptive as Wonbeom hadn’t noticed, either Jingyeom had hidden it well or the frustration had just suddenly surfaced.

No matter how great the place, it’s only natural to feel uncomfortable when it’s not your own home, and the desire to return grows over time.

Although there were no parked cars, the daily comings and goings of trucks delivering food must have been enough to remind him of the outside world.

Yet he had never once said he wanted to leave.

What probably tipped the balance was Wonbeom’s arrival and then Soohyuk’s, which only made him miss Jinwoo more and long for home.

Soohyuk reached out and gently stroked Jingyeom’s head.

“Is staying here hard for you?”

“…A little. Everyone here is nice, but I still want to go home.”

The words flowed easily now that Soohyuk was in front of him—words he hadn’t been able to say to Wonbeom.

Whether it was because he felt more comfortable with Soohyuk or because he had started to trust and rely on him more, Jingyeom wasn’t sure.

He just knew that now, with Soohyuk nearby, he wanted to complain.

Soohyuk seemed like he’d take it all without a second thought.

“You must’ve been struggling, staying so quiet without saying anything all this time.”

“…There wasn’t anyone to tell.”

“You could’ve told Director Tak.”

“……”

Jingyeom’s silence puzzled Soohyuk.

Then, realizing something, a smile tugged at his lips, which he quickly covered with his hand.

‘He must trust me more.’

Confirming that he ranked above Wonbeom in Jingyeom’s heart made Soohyuk feel unexpectedly pleased.

* * *