Double Junk - 146

At his words, Ajin belatedly realized he was in Seokju’s room.

“…”

Heat rushed to his cheeks. Right. Why was he in this room? He had come to sleep with Seokju, not to live with him. He should have returned to his room when Seokju went to work in the morning. Yet, he had stayed in Seokju’s room as if it were his own.

How crazy…

Feeling as if his secret had been exposed, he was too embarrassed to lift his head. Ajin wanted to say he was leaving now. But Seokju suddenly grabbed his hand. He kneaded it gently with his warm hand and smiled like a boy.

“I missed you.”

“…”

“I missed you so much I came home early.”

Ajin dropped the pencil he was holding. Seokju picked it up and placed it between the pages of the book. Then he closed the book with a light tap, glaring at it as if he hated it, before smiling again at Ajin.

“Studying?”

Ajin nodded. “Yes.” Seokju also nodded and caressed Ajin’s hand. His face looked so happy that Ajin couldn’t criticize him for smiling or pull his hand away.

As he was stuck in that position, with Seokju kneading his hand, there was a knock at the door. Seokju, as if expecting it, stood up and went to the door.

Ajin quickly tucked his hand between his legs. The hand that had Seokju’s warmth on it felt hot. His reddened palm throbbed as if his heart had moved to his hand.

As Ajin rubbed his palm against his pants to erase the warmth, a tray was placed in front of him. It wasn’t a meal tray, but a small tray often used for snacks.

On the tray were various kinds of rice cakes. Colorful songpyeon, injeolmi cut like cubes of kimchi, slightly roasted garaetteok with honey, and jeolpyeon with red beans, all glistening appetizingly.

They were best eaten fresh. Rice cakes should be eaten when they’re soft.

Ajin, as if mesmerized, picked up chopsticks and asked.

“Did you buy these?”

“Yes. There’s a famous rice cake shop in Jongno these days.”

Ajin, after a moment of deliberation, picked up a songpyeon and brought it to his mouth.

“How do you know about these places? The traditional sweets shop too…”

“I ask the guys. They may look rough, but they love sweet and small things. They know all the new rice cake shops, bakeries, and western pastry shops.”

Ajin nodded, saying “I see.” and put the songpyeon in his mouth. The soft, chewy rice cake burst with sweet honey when he bit into it. It was delicious. No wonder it was famous.

Ajin diligently ate the rice cakes, along with some sikhye. The chewy, soft texture made it hard to put the chopsticks down.

Seokju watched Ajin with satisfaction. The way Ajin’s cheeks puffed up with each bite was so endearing. He even thought, though Ajin would be shocked to know, that he wanted to nibble on those cheeks instead of the rice cakes.

When about half of the rice cakes on the tray were gone, Ajin’s chopstick movements noticeably slowed. He felt a bit embarrassed for eating so quickly.

Ajin, lightly biting the tip of his chopsticks, looked at Seokju. Seokju met his eyes and smiled brightly. His relaxed brows and wide smile were a pleasing sight.

Seokju had gotten better. His body, face, and complexion. He was a healthy man again, with no sign of illness. After sleeping for three days straight, he was positively glowing. The image of him with a pale face and nosebleed felt like a distant memory.

Ajin put down his chopsticks.

“No more nosebleeds?”

“Hmm?”

“Your nosebleeds.”

“Oh… no, not anymore.”

Seokju averted his gaze slightly. He was embarrassed about having a nosebleed in front of Ajin. He only wanted to show his good and cool sides. Yet, he had a nosebleed at that moment… it made his mouth dry.

“Did you used to get nosebleeds often?”

Ajin asked again. Seokju shook his head.

“No. Only when I was fighting a lot. From getting hit. But it was the first time I had a nosebleed without being hit.”

Recalling the hot surge of blood, Seokju rubbed the tip of his nose. Ajin’s lips curled into a slight smile.

“Still, I managed to give you a nosebleed. Not by hitting you, though.”

Despite all of Seokju’s suggestions to hit, punish, or shoot him, Ajin had never really gotten back at him. But to think he made Seokju suffer in this way… it was strange, but a little satisfying. To see that even Seokju could be helpless without him.

Seokju, focused on something odd, asked seriously.

“Want to try?”

“Huh?”

“Want to try giving me a nosebleed by hitting me?”

“What?”

“My nosebleed.”

Ajin blinked rapidly. His long eyelashes fluttered busily. Seokju stared intently at them. He couldn’t get enough of Ajin’s beautiful navy-blue eyes.

“…Would you let me?”

Ajin asked with a scoffing laugh.

“Yes. If you hit well-”

Seokju made a fist and mimicked a punching motion. Ajin stretched out his hand in front of Seokju.

“With this hand? Can I even do it?”

His white palm opened towards the ceiling. Compared to Seokju’s hand, it was much smaller. Thin, frail, looking like it hadn’t fully grown. Miss Flower had once clicked her tongue, saying it was awkward to see him doing chores with such childlike hands.

“…….”

Seokju clamped his mouth shut. Being hit by that hand would be more ticklish than painful. It might even make him aroused. As he was thinking that maybe he should give Ajin a stick or a hammer, Ajin took a sip of the lukewarm sikhye.

“It’s fine. Miss Flower said that all bloodshed remains as karma and that you’d get punished later.”

“…….”

Seokju’s eyes settled calmly. Ajin shuddered slightly, realizing his mistake too late. Seokju was someone who constantly dealt with others’ blood. What Ajin had just said was akin to telling him he’d go to hell when he died.

Feeling guilty, Ajin fiddled with his chopsticks. Seokju smiled gently.

“It’s okay. Even if I get punished.”

“…….”

“I’m someone who deserves to be punished.”

It didn’t seem like something one should say with a smile, yet Seokju appeared oddly happy. He almost looked like he was waiting for his punishment.

“…….”

Without responding, Ajin put a small piece of songpyeon in his mouth. It hadn’t been long, but the rice cake had already hardened a bit and didn’t taste as good as it initially did.

* * *

Even after that day, Seokju came home while the sun was still up. Sometimes he brought various things, and other times he came empty-handed, apologizing because he missed Ajin too much to stop by the market.

Ajin neither laughed nor cried at Seokju’s behavior. He watched Seokju, who seemed excited like a child wanting to do various things but also watched for Ajin’s reaction. Seokju didn’t ask for more.

Their precarious relationship continued.

On the fourth day of Seokju’s early returns, Ajin started doing housework. No one told him to, but he did it anyway. He knew where the broom and rags were and how to use them, making him an expert in such tasks.

Even though Seokju came home early, Ajin had to spend the mornings alone.

If he stayed idle, sadness would overwhelm him. The sorrow from Miss Flower’s death, his own situation, and the pain Seokju caused tugged at his hair, bit his fingers, and blew wind over his eyes, making him miserable.

But moving his body helped a little.

So, Ajin swept the yard after Seokju left for work, then mopped the floors. He even cleaned Seokju’s room.

It was a desperate attempt to return to the past, to go back to how things were.

Seokju knew this but said nothing. As long as it wasn’t dangerous, he seemed to let Ajin do whatever he wanted. The servants, likely following Seokju’s orders, only glanced at Ajin from a distance without interfering.

After wiping down the last floorboard, Ajin stretched his stiff back. His fingers ached from gripping the rag so tightly. Though sweat beaded on his forehead, he felt good.

He briefly looked up at the blue spring sky before heading to the water tap. He could have gone through the kitchen, but he deliberately walked around the house. He avoided the kitchen because it reminded him of Miss Flower.

Miss Flower sitting by the stove, holding a ladle or spatula, sipping coffee by the wall, her face flushed from the kitchen heat, breathing heavily, chopping vegetables from early morning. Every memory hurt.

“I wonder if she reached the Dragon Palace well… She should let me know if she did…”

Ajin muttered aimlessly, sitting by the water tap. He tried to crouch, but his knees were too stiff, so he pulled over a short wooden stool and sat down.

“She hasn’t even appeared in my dreams…”

Ajin turned the faucet fully. Cold water gushed out. He placed the rag under the stream and rolled up his sleeves. He soaked the laundry soap in water and rubbed it onto the rag. Then he scrubbed the rag on the washboard. Bubbles foamed up, and dirty water trickled down.

Somehow, it felt refreshing.

“Miss Flower told me not to enjoy this…”

She said that liking it would make him keep doing it. And here he was, doing it again. Ajin smiled wryly as he washed the rag.

As he rinsed the grayish bubbles away and applied more soap, he heard footsteps approaching. Ajin turned his head absently. Seokju was walking towards him. His neat suit was without a wrinkle, and his black-green hanbok fluttered softly.

Seokju had been making eye contact with Ajin from a distance and only greeted him when he got close.

“Hello, Ajin.”