Double Junk - 192

Just before the movie started, Ajin finished the popcorn. Though there was a little left, it seemed he had grown tired of it. Seokju picked up the bucket and placed it on the floor by his feet. At that moment, the theater darkened, and the movie began.

Ajin straightened his posture, trying to focus on the movie. However, he kept glancing at Seokju out of the corner of his eye without realizing it. Seokju was sitting more relaxed than usual, watching the screen.

Since waking up in this world, Ajin had seen many movies, but this was his first time watching one with Seokju. It felt unfamiliar, but it didn’t seem special enough to be called a “date.” They weren’t talking, nor were they exchanging glances. How was this a date?

Scrunching his nose, Ajin leaned toward Seokju.
“But why…”
“Hmm?”

Seokju lowered one shoulder and tilted his ear toward Ajin, who whispered softly.
“Why do people call watching a movie a date?”

Seokju’s eyes, which had been fixed on the screen, shifted to Ajin. Ajin blinked as he looked back at him. Even in the dim light, Ajin’s large eyes shone brightly. Staring at them for a moment, Seokju responded in a low voice.
“It’s dark and close.”

“Being close makes sense, but why does it matter if it’s dark?”

After pondering briefly, Seokju smirked slightly. His gaze carried a hint of mischief, unlike his usual demeanor. He raised the armrest between them and wrapped his arm around Ajin’s shoulder, pulling him close. Ajin was suddenly pressed against Seokju’s side.
“Because you can do things like this.”

“……”

“And if we’re sitting in the very back, we can do even more.”

Seokju’s voice came from so close that it felt as if it were scratching Ajin’s ear. The deep tone made Ajin’s neck reflexively shrink. Though Seokju usually acted reserved, this sudden assertiveness was both unfamiliar and welcome. Ajin had grown used to this version of Seokju—forward and bold—even if he didn’t necessarily prefer it. Familiarity brought comfort.

After freezing for a moment, Ajin leaned against Seokju’s chest.
“This is nice. Let’s go on movie dates more often. Always in the back row, if possible.”
“…Alright.”

Seokju brushed Ajin’s cheek with his thumb, enjoying the softness of his skin. The texture was so appealing that he wanted to keep touching it throughout the movie. However, fearing Ajin might look at him like a madman, he stopped after two more strokes.

Ajin continued stealing glances at Seokju. Whenever the movie scenes shifted, illuminating Seokju’s face in different colors, Ajin couldn’t look away. When their eyes met, Seokju would subtly lower his gaze, his glance filled with a quiet intensity that Ajin found… incredibly alluring.

The movie naturally lost Ajin’s interest. Even a film made with billions of won paled in comparison to Seokju’s beauty.

Ajin’s entire focus was on Seokju. Sitting close like this wasn’t extraordinary—they had kissed, shared intimate moments, and even slept together in the same bed. Compared to their past lives, where they had done things too indecent to speak of, this should have felt ordinary. Yet Ajin couldn’t understand why it felt so thrilling and heart-fluttering.

While admiring Seokju’s face, Ajin noticed his hand resting near his chest. Seokju’s arm was so long that it wrapped around Ajin’s shoulder with room to spare. Unlike his scarred hands from their past life, Seokju’s hand now was clean and fair.

Ajin gently brushed the back of Seokju’s hand. It was cold, unlike his own warm hands. Not just the back, but his fingers and palms were cold, too.

After touching his hand a few times, Ajin glanced at Seokju, who continued staring ahead without reacting. Encouraged by his lack of response, Ajin boldly grabbed Seokju’s hand, squeezing and playing with it. He stroked his fingers, pressed the back of his hand, and tickled his firm palm. The cool sensation was soothing.

Suddenly, Ajin became concerned. Was Seokju cold? With such cold hands, his fingertips must be freezing. Remembering how miserable cold hands could feel, Ajin wrapped both his hands around Seokju’s and brought them to his lips.

He blew warm breath onto them, “Hoo…”

Seokju flinched. Still holding his hand near his mouth, Ajin glanced at him. Seokju’s face remained impassive. Ajin blew on his hand again, “Hoo…” This time, Seokju twitched again.

Since their bodies were pressed together, Ajin couldn’t miss the slight tremble. He even felt Seokju hold his breath each time Ajin’s lips brushed against his fingers. Yet Seokju’s gaze stayed fixed ahead, pretending nothing was happening. This feigned indifference was oddly endearing, making Ajin want to break that stoic expression.

A playful smile spread across Ajin’s face as he continued blowing warm air onto Seokju’s hand.

But then, an old memory resurfaced.

Ajin stared blankly at the screen as a scene from the past replayed in his mind.

After Miss Flower’s death, there was a time when Ajin stayed in Seokju’s room. Unable to endure the passage of time, he had started cleaning without being told. After scrubbing the floor with a rag, he went to the water tap to wring it out. That was when Seokju, dressed in a long coat, came home.

“You’re early again today.”
“Yes, again.”
“……”
“I’ll come home early tomorrow, too.”

While chatting with him, Ajin had been wriggling his fingers, numbed by the cold water. Seokju had noticed and taken Ajin’s hands in his own. Then, lowering his head, he blew warm air onto them.

Startled, Ajin tried to pull his hand away, but as always, he couldn’t escape Seokju’s grip.
“These hands were just cleaning rags…”
“You washed them with soap, didn’t you?”
“Even so…”

For a while, Seokju held Ajin’s hands. He even rubbed his lips against the back of Ajin’s hand and fingers, warming them quickly. The sudden heat seemed to seep into Ajin’s shattered heart. Just as he tried to pull his hand away, Seokju had called his name in a heartfelt tone.

Eventually, right before the movie started, the popcorn bucket was emptied. There was a bit left, but since no one reached for more, it seemed they’d had enough. Seokju picked up the bucket and placed it beneath his seat. Just then, the lights dimmed, and the movie began.

Ajin straightened his back and tried to focus on the movie. Or at least, he tried to. But without realizing it, he kept stealing glances at Seokju. Seokju was sitting more relaxed than usual, staring at the screen.

Ajin had watched plenty of movies since he awoke in this world, but it was his first time watching one with Seokju. It was a novel experience, but it didn’t feel like enough to be called a “date.” They weren’t chatting, they weren’t looking at each other. How could this be a date?

With a twitch of his nose, Ajin leaned toward Seokju.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

Seokju lowered one shoulder and tilted his ear toward Ajin. Ajin whispered softly.

“Why do people call watching movies a date?”

“……”

Seokju’s gaze shifted from the screen to Ajin. Blinking, Ajin looked up at him. Even in the dim theater, his large eyes gleamed brightly. Seokju, staring intently at those eyes, responded in a low voice.

“Because it’s dark, and it’s close.”

“Close, sure, but what’s the deal with the dark part?”

Seokju paused, seemingly contemplating something, then smirked. His gaze, for a moment, held a mischievous glint, something rare for him.

He raised the armrest between them, wrapped an arm around Ajin’s shoulder, and pulled him close. Ajin found himself suddenly pressed against Seokju’s side.

“Because you can do things like this.”

“……”

“If you’re in the very back row, you can do even more.”

Seokju’s voice came from startlingly close, almost as if it brushed against Ajin’s ear. That distinctively deep tone sent a shiver through Ajin, who reflexively shrank his neck.

The sudden boldness from Seokju, who had been acting reserved all this time, felt both unfamiliar and welcome. Ajin was more used to this assertive Seokju than the quiet, restrained version of him. Whether he liked it or not, familiarity brought comfort.

After a moment of stiff hesitation, Ajin rested against Seokju’s chest.

“……This is nice. Let’s go on more movie dates from now on. Always in the back row, if possible.”

“……Sure.”

Seokju ran his thumb over Ajin’s cheek, the one his hand was resting on. The softness and warmth of Ajin’s skin were enticing. He wanted to keep touching him throughout the movie, but fearing Ajin would think he was crazy, he stopped after doing it twice more.

Even after that, Ajin kept sneaking glances at Seokju. As the movie scenes changed, lighting Seokju’s face in various colors, Ajin couldn’t take his eyes off him. Whenever their gazes accidentally met, Seokju would glance back, his stare unintentionally seductive.

The movie itself started to fade from Ajin’s interest. No matter how much money had gone into its production, it couldn’t compete with Seokju’s beauty.

Ajin’s attention was wholly absorbed by Seokju. Pressing their bodies together wasn’t anything unusual—they’d kissed, he’d gone down on him, they’d slept in the same bed. In his past life, they’d done even more scandalous things that were embarrassing to even think about. So why did his heart race and flutter like this now?

As Ajin stared at Seokju’s hand, which had slid down near his chest, he noticed how long his arms were. The hand, unlike in their past life, was unblemished and neat.

Ajin quietly reached out to stroke the back of Seokju’s hand. It was cold, in contrast to the warmth of his own. Not just the back of his hand but his fingers and palm were also icy.

Ajin glanced at Seokju’s face to gauge his reaction, but Seokju simply stared ahead, showing no response. Emboldened, Ajin grabbed Seokju’s hand and began playing with it, tracing his fingers, pressing against the back of his hand, and gently tickling his firm palm. The coolness felt oddly pleasant.

Suddenly, a thought crossed Ajin’s mind: was Seokju cold? His hands were so cold that they must be freezing. Ajin, having experienced cold hands himself in his past life, knew how miserable it could be.

Clasping Seokju’s hand in both of his, Ajin brought it to his lips and softly blew warm air onto it.

Seokju flinched. Without moving his lips away, Ajin glanced at him sideways. Seokju remained expressionless. Ajin blew on his hand again. Seokju trembled once more.

Being so close, Ajin could feel his shiver. Every time Ajin’s lips brushed against Seokju’s fingers, he could sense Seokju holding his breath. Yet, his gaze remained steady on the screen, as if pretending nothing was happening.

His effort to maintain composure was endearing, and Ajin felt a mischievous urge to break that calm expression. A playful glint sparkled in Ajin’s eyes as he continued blowing air onto Seokju’s hand.

But at that moment, a memory suddenly resurfaced.

Ajin stared blankly at the screen, though it was no longer the movie playing in his mind. Instead, scenes from the past unfolded.

There was a time, after Miss Flower had died, when Ajin had stayed in Seokju’s room. Struggling to cope with the passing time, he had begun cleaning on his own. After scrubbing the floor with a rag, he was washing it at the sink when Seokju returned, wearing his usual robes.

“You’re home early again today.”

“Yes, again.”

“……”

“I’ll come back early tomorrow, too.”

They had exchanged such words. Ajin, wringing the rag with freezing hands, had been startled when Seokju suddenly grasped his hand and blew warm air onto it.

He had tried to pull away, shocked. But, as always, Seokju’s grip was firm.

“It’s just the hand I was cleaning with…”

“You washed it with soap.”

“Still…”

For a while, Seokju held his hand, rubbing his lips against the back of it and his fingers. The warmth spread, quickly banishing the cold. It felt as if the heat melted even his broken heart. Ajin had tried to pull away, but then Seokju had spoken to him, his voice filled with longing.

“Ajin…”