LA0S | Chapter 33

“Is there more than one reason to come to a bar? One bottle of soju, one bottle of cider, and a serving of mentaiko egg roll.”

“Didn’t you say you had work to do? Cut the crap and just get a beer.”

Jinha still didn’t know Chayoung’s exact drinking capacity, but since he had already mentioned needing to work, letting him get drunk wasn’t an option. He grabbed a chilled bottle of beer, set it down on the table along with a glass, and turned away.

“Excuse me, could you open the cap for me?”

You’ve got to be kidding me. The words burned at the tip of his tongue. But a customer was still a customer, so he forced an artificial smile and popped the cap off.

“Drink up and get lo— I mean, head home.”

“I’ll take my time.”

Chayoung beamed.

And he really did take his time—sticking around all the way until closing. He never ordered another beer beyond the first bottle, but he did keep ordering snacks: mussel soup, sweet and spicy fried chicken, dried side dishes…

“I’m heading out first.”

“Alright. Thanks for the hard work, hyung. Have a good weekend, see you next week.”

Jinha headed into the staff room and untied his apron. He only planned to take the essentials from the pile of stuff he had left here over the past week. No need to move everything—he’d be out the moment he saved enough for a goshiwon.

After packing up some clothes and books into a paper bag, he stepped out. Chayoung was nowhere in sight. He glanced at the nearly untouched beer bottle on the table before finally exiting the bar.

“You’re out early.”

Jinha turned to see the very person he assumed had gone home—waiting for him outside.

“What are you doing here?”

“Is that all your stuff? Bring more. I’m heading to the studio anyway.”

“I don’t—”

“Should I just carry it in myself?”

The streetlamp behind him cast his face in shadow, making his expression unreadable. His voice, though, sounded as casual as ever.

Jinha exhaled sharply, setting down his shopping bag before heading back inside.

“Oh? Did you forget something?”

Jung Woochae blinked at him in surprise. Jinha gave a vague nod and made his way to the staff room. This time, he grabbed an entire box.

“That everything?”

“I’m not entrusting my precious belongings to a guy who’s been drinking.”

Chayoung simply shrugged before taking the box out of his hands. If Jinha argued, they’d just waste time bickering, so he let it go. Besides, if someone else was willing to haul his heavy stuff, all the better.

“Seriously, why did you come?”

“Came for a drink. And people said the food there was good, so I wanted to try it.”

“Then why not just eat and leave? Why time it to when I get off?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was outside before you.”

Might as well stop talking.

The weather was perfect—neither too hot nor too cold, hovering on the edge of late spring. Normally, at this hour, he’d be sprinting full speed to catch the last bus. Strolling along at a relaxed pace like this felt oddly unfamiliar.

“This park’s always crowded, even late at night. There’s a 24-hour supermarket nearby, too.”

It was nothing like the pitch-dark alleyways where not even a single streetlamp lit the way after 10 p.m.

By the time they arrived at the studio, the lights inside were already on. He was sure he had turned them off when he left—Chayoung must have stopped by earlier.

Watching him struggle to punch in the door code with one occupied hand, Jinha nudged him aside with his shoulder and entered the code himself. Warm air rushed out as the door swung open.

“Did you turn the heater on?”

“Yeah.”

Chayoung nodded as if it were no big deal.

The thing was, the guy naturally ran hot. Even in the dead of winter, he wore short sleeves under his puffer jacket. And now, in May, he had the heater on?

“If it’s because of me, don’t bother. It’s unnecessary and uncomfortable.”

“I was wondering when the old Lee Jinha would show himself.”

Chayoung snorted, unzipping his hoodie. As expected, he had a short-sleeved T-shirt on underneath.

“Why do you automatically assume it’s because of you? I always turn the heater on in winter and wear short sleeves. And in summer, I blast the AC and wear a jacket.”

He said it so casually that Jinha felt embarrassed for assuming otherwise. Lips pressed together, he picked up his paper bags and carried them to the study, which was now doubling as his room.

Chayoung placed the box onto the desk.

“That’s all your stuff?”

“I’ve got one more box, but it’s just random junk. I’ll bring it next week.”

“Got it.”

Chayoung gave a short nod and left the room.

Jinha peeled off the packing tape and pulled out his clothes. The musty smell of the paper box clung to them. If he were still living in his mold-infested apartment, he wouldn’t care, but here… not a chance.

Maybe his tracksuit from yesterday was lying around somewhere. He scanned the room but didn’t see it.

“Hey, have you seen the clothes I wore yesterday?”

“I tossed them into the wash along with my own laundry. They were lying around when I went to grab my stuff.”

“Oh.”

Jinha had nothing to say about the fact that Chayoung had gone to grab his own stuff. Besides, the clothes in question were technically his anyway.

“Want me to give you something comfortable to wear? Just until the laundry’s done.”

Chayoung disappeared into the closet and returned with a tracksuit, holding it out. It looked strangely familiar. Tilting his head in thought, Jinha grabbed it and began pulling off his sweater.

“Lee Jinha!”

Chayoung’s voice rang out sharply. Startled, Jinha froze, arms crossed and gripping the hem of his knitwear.

“Why the hell are you stripping in the living room?”

He wasn’t even naked, just taking off his top. The way Chayoung reacted like he had committed some grave offense was honestly weirder.

“Do you undress like this at work too?”

“Yeah. Just like this.”

He answered nonchalantly. Because, well, it wasn’t a big deal.

“Are you insane?”

If anything, Jinha thought Chayoung was the one acting crazy.

“There’s no one here to see, so what’s the issue?”

“No one to see? What about that guy you work with?”

“Jung Woochae? He comes in earlier and leaves later than me. Obviously, he changes into his uniform beforehand.”

“Oh. That so?”

Chayoung’s stiff expression visibly relaxed.

“Anyway, just change in the room. Now.”

Practically shoved in that direction, Jinha let himself be pushed into the room. Is he really that bothered by this? Back in high school, they used to change into their gym clothes right in the classroom.

Wait a minute. A thought suddenly struck him. He unfolded the tracksuit Chayoung had given him—and his face heated up.

“What the hell, you crazy bastard.”

It was none other than their old Seonyu High School gym uniform. The one he had worn to death back in the day. It was freshly laundered and smelled clean, even pleasant, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it.

Jinha considered asking if there was anything else to wear, but it felt too shameless to complain when he was already borrowing clothes.

“Just for today, I guess.”

He changed into the pants, then the top. It wasn’t too big or too small—still a decent fit. The fabric had stretched slightly over time, making it easy to move in.

Didn’t think I’d be wearing this again… especially here, in Chayoung’s workspace.

He gave the gym shirt a couple of idle pats before stepping out. In the living room, Chayoung was lounging on the couch. The moment he spotted Jinha, he spoke up.

“You didn’t eat yet, did you? You hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of saying that? Let’s order some chicken.”

Without waiting for a response, Chayoung grabbed his phone. A few taps later, he tossed it onto the sofa.

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“I’ll start after eating. I’m too hungry to focus.”

”…….”

Jinha did a quick mental tally of everything Chayoung had eaten earlier at the bar. Even counting conservatively, it was well over three dishes.

Then again, come to think of it, those weren’t proper meals, just snacks. He couldn’t imagine someone like Chayoung, who used to eat as much as a full-on athlete in high school, being satisfied with just bar food. He suddenly remembered the time Chayoung had challenged the baseball team to a burger-eating contest. The guy had stuffed himself with nearly ten burgers and spent the entire next morning regretting it.

“What’s with that pathetic look in your eyes?”

“Nothing.”

Jinha clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Man, that gym uniform suits you. Looks like mine.”

”……? It is yours.”

The hell was he on about? Of course it was his.

Jinha answered curtly, but Chayoung only stared at him. Sitting on the couch, his gaze naturally tilted upward toward Jinha, who was standing. Under the bright fluorescent light, his eyes gleamed—almost unnervingly sharp.

His stare roamed over Jinha’s face, then down his neck, before finally stopping at his chest. Following his line of sight, Jinha looked down as well—and froze.

Right there, stitched onto the dark blue fabric, was a name.

“Kim Chayoung”

Seonyu High didn’t have detachable name tags. Too many students lost them while running around, kicking up dust in the hallways. So instead, the school embroidered names directly onto the uniforms. This gym shirt was no exception.

“Yeah. It’s mine.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Chayoung’s lips. His voice was teasing, his tone playful—but for some reason, it felt… oddly unsettling. Jinha’s throat suddenly felt dry.

He turned away and headed toward the kitchen.

“Can I use a cup?”

There was only one sitting in the sink. It made sense, since this was a one-person workspace. Annoyingly, he had forgotten to bring one with his belongings. He’d have to grab one from the bar tomorrow.

“Go ahead.”

With permission given, Jinha poured himself a glass of water. For some reason, he was craving something cold, so he added ice and gulped down the entire cup in one go. Only then did he feel a little clearer.

“Didn’t you just have a fever the other day? Why are you drinking ice water?”

“Mind your own business.”

Instead of replying, Chayoung stood up. The shift in position made their eye level match for a moment—then tilt slightly.

Did the height gap get bigger since high school?

Jinha didn’t like that.

“Can you stop saying that? It pisses me off.”

“What?”

”‘Mind your own business.’ Just curse at me instead.”

Was he joking? If so, his expression was far too serious. The faint smirk he had worn earlier was long gone. He meant it.