Double Junk - 168

In the dream, Ajin found peace, but in reality, he didn’t. It was hot—unbearably so—and it felt like he would wake up any moment. Half of his consciousness was already alert.

Waking up just because it was too hot? That was something the Ajin of his past life could never have imagined.

As Ajin groaned softly, furrowing his brows, a shadow passed over his half-closed eyelids. Then, someone gently brushed his hair back. The hand was large and cool, emanating a faint chill, as if it had just held a piece of ice.

Strangely enough, the burning heat in his head started to subside to a lukewarm warmth. Ajin’s breathing grew more relaxed.

Even so, the hand didn’t leave but hovered over Ajin’s feverish face. It touched his heated cheeks, traced along his jawline with fingers, and then paused momentarily. The thumb brushed his lips, as though by accident.

“…”

But the accident didn’t end there. After a moment of stillness, the thumb pressed against his lower lip. The fingertips traced his lip line and, emboldened, pressed down firmly, smothering his lips.

His lower lip flipped slightly, and Ajin’s warm breath slipped through his teeth. That breath grazed against the thumb pressing on his lips.

A faint, deep inhale could be heard from the hand’s owner. It wasn’t hard to imagine what kind of expression that person must have had.

At that moment, Ajin fully woke up. But he didn’t open his eyes—he didn’t have the courage to face whoever was before him.

The hand, which had lingered on his lips for a while, withdrew reluctantly.

Only sounds followed. The faint beeping of someone lowering the air conditioning temperature. The rustling of a blanket that Ajin had kicked onto the floor being picked up and folded. And the quiet, heavy footsteps moving away.

Ajin lay there, mingling those serene noises with the dream—or rather, the memory—he had been having. He tried to organize his thoughts before finally opening his eyes.

Standing near the bedside table, Seokju, wearing a knit sweater oddly out of place for summer, was adjusting the brightness of the lamp. As Ajin shifted slightly, signaling he was awake, Seokju’s gaze quickly turned toward him.

“You’re awake?”

His tone wasn’t overly soft or affectionate, but it carried a gentleness. Seokju’s face was calm and composed, as if he hadn’t just been caressing Ajin’s lips.

“Are you feeling hot? Shall I get you some water?” Seokju asked.

Ajin, still lying down, shook his head. Seokju nodded briefly in response.

“I left the dictionary you asked for on the table. I’ll take my leave now—”

“Secretary.”

“Yes?”

“Look up the word secretary for me.”

“…”

Seokju stared at Ajin, puzzled by the sudden request. Without saying a word, he fetched the dictionary, flipping through it a few times until he found the requested term. He opened the book wide and handed it to Ajin. Sitting up, Ajin took it. Seokju helpfully adjusted the dimmed lamp to a brighter setting.

[Secretary]
A position that involves assisting someone in an important role by managing confidential documents or office work. Or, the person in that position.
Example: Secretary to the President.

Ajin read and reread the definition. A position involving office work. He focused intently on that part.

Nowhere in the definition did it say anything about cooling someone’s fever by touching their face, caressing lips suggestively, or holding someone close when they couldn’t sleep.

This was not the relationship between a boss and their secretary. If anything, it resembled the peculiar connection he and Seokju had in his past life.

Closing the dictionary, Ajin looked up at Seokju.

“Seokju-hyung.”

“…”

Seokju stiffened. Standing close to the bed, his expression was a mixture of surprise, relief, and what seemed to be gratitude.

“Do you remember…?”

Ajin shook his head, cutting off that budding hope.

“No. Still nothing. Not a single thing.”

“…”

“But I had a strange dream.”

“A dream?”

Seokju’s eyebrows rose slightly. Ignoring his reaction, Ajin placed the heavy dictionary on the bedside table and asked calmly.

“Are we lovers?”

“Cough—”

Seokju choked, his breath catching. It seemed like his lungs hurt as he coughed a few more times to clear his throat. After regaining his composure, he asked as if he’d misheard.

“Pardon?”

“I asked if we’re lovers.”

“…”

“Do we love each other?”

Seokju closed his mouth. His dark eyes stared straight at Ajin, as if trying to decipher the intention behind the question. But there was no need to overthink it. Ajin had asked purely out of curiosity: were they lovers or not? That was all.

The silence stretched, and Ajin’s irritation flared.

“Answer me. Quickly.”

Pressed by Ajin’s impatience, Seokju finally answered cautiously but firmly.

“No. We are not. That kind of relationship.”

Ajin lowered his head. So, they weren’t. The answer he wanted to hear. And yet, a strange feeling lingered. It wasn’t relief, nor was it disappointment—it was an ambiguous emotion.

Then what was that? Why had he touched Ajin’s face like that? Why had he stared at his lips for so long? Just like… just like the Seokju of his past life.

Ajin had learned about love from Seokju. How to love, how to receive it, how to be together. Everything, from the way someone’s gaze softens to the way their hands linger, he had learned from Seokju. It wasn’t difficult for him to read Seokju’s emotions.

The way Seokju’s hand had touched his face—it was exactly like before. The only difference was its warmth.

“Then, Secretary Kang, do you want to be my lover?”

“Pardon?”

Seokju’s expression twisted in embarrassment at yet another difficult question. After a moment of hesitation, he stammered awkwardly.

“N-no. I could never… How could I possibly… with the president…?”

Though his response was somewhat vague, it was still a denial.

“…Fine. Then.”

Ajin lay back down, grabbing a stray pillow and hugging it.

“I’m going to sleep.”

“Yes.”

Seokju quickly dimmed the lights again and bowed slightly to leave. But just as he was about to step away, Ajin spoke in a cold tone.

“Secretary Kang, go sleep at your own house. I don’t want you here.”

“…”

Seokju tilted his head slightly to the side. He didn’t appear flustered, as if he was accustomed to Ajin’s unpredictable moods and occasional rudeness. Standing upright with his hands lightly clasped behind his back, he gazed at Ajin intently and spoke in his characteristic low voice.

“Sorry, but that would be difficult. I have a duty to look after the President at night. Especially in this summer heat, I need to be more vigilant.”

“What… what does that even mean?”

“It means I can’t comply with your order.”

“Ha…”

“Now, please get some sleep. Call for me anytime if you need anything. My room is at the end of the hallway on the right as you step out.”

With a polite bow, Seokju excused himself. Before Ajin could retort, he had already left the room, closing the door neatly behind him.

“…”

Blinking blankly, Ajin suddenly sprang up and glared fiercely at the door Seokju had meticulously shut.

Wow, just look at that insolence.

Yesterday, he acted like he would leave if I told him to. Why is he being like this today?

I mean, aren’t I the superior here? What kind of servant talks to their young master like that? Why is he so disrespectful? Does he want to be tied up and punished? Though, considering his size, I’d need a specially made large rope… Wait, that’s not the point here.

“Still the same temper, as always…”

Grinding his teeth, Ajin punched his pillow in frustration.

Ajin sat at the round tea table in the garden. Despite the summer sun blazing above, the shade cast by a large tree made the spot comfortably cool. A gentle breeze rustled the air, playfully tossing Ajin’s bangs.

As he read his book, Ajin speared a perfectly ripe peach with a fork and brought it to his lips. The sweet, tender flesh brought a delighted smile to his face. It was delicious, just like the peaches Seokju had once brought home in abundance during a past summer.

With his cheeks puffed out from the peach, Ajin reached his fork out for another piece. Seokju, sitting beside him, pushed a plate closer to Ajin and resumed speaking.

“It seems there are rumors circulating because I’ve been the only one going to work these past few days.”

Seonhwa nodded in understanding. She was seated across from him, reclining slightly with her legs crossed.

“That makes sense. Even though Ajin has been leaving work early, he still used to show up consistently. Now that he hasn’t been coming in at all…”

“Yes. Because of that, the executives seem quite uneasy. There are speculations that we might be pulling out of the media business, merging back into the main branch of Hyunseong Ilbo, or even selling the division at a bargain price.”

“Has something happened at the company lately?”

“No, nothing in particular. The stock price has been steadily climbing, and we recently signed a deal with a global OTT platform for a serialized long-form drama, which has brought a positive buzz.”

“So, the rumors are solely because Ajin hasn’t been showing up at work?”

“Yes, that seems to be the case.”

While the two discussed Ajin and the company with serious expressions, Ajin himself was flipping through the pages of his book with a carefree demeanor. He had initially tried to pay attention to their conversation, but he quickly gave up. No matter how hard he listened, he couldn’t make sense of it—global this, OTT that, stock prices—none of it registered.

Seonhwa rested her arms, which were crossed, on the table and sharpened her gaze.

“Would it be too much if I took your place at work for a few days?”

“Any deviation from the usual routine might only fuel more rumors. Besides, the Chairwoman is… well, you’re the Chairwoman.”

“I see…”

Clicking her tongue in frustration, Seonhwa propped her chin on her hand and turned her attention to Ajin.

“Ajin, are you sick?”

Startled by the sudden question directed at him, Ajin hurriedly chewed and swallowed the piece of peach in his mouth. Shaking his head vigorously, he answered.

“No? No, I’m not. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Then you should probably go to work.”

At those words, Ajin’s fork wobbled precariously in his hand.