PEN Vol 5 Ch. 7

Sejin still had many things to deal with.

Over a week had passed since the funeral. Kim Hyunkyung’s remains were still at home, nowhere to rest. It wasn’t a huge issue, but he couldn’t leave them like that forever, so he had to decide what to do with them. And there was still the death certificate, the insurance claim… and many more moments where Sejin would have to confront his grief.

At Cheon Sejoo’s question, Sejin looked down. His long eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as his gaze rested on his feet. He thought quietly for a moment, then looked up at Cheon Sejoo and replied. He spoke about the placement of the urn first.

“I don’t want a charnel house…”

“There’s also tree burial. And sea burial. We can do whatever you want.”

“…….”

Sejin fell silent. He didn’t seem to know what a tree burial was, so Cheon Sejoo explained as he looked at him.

“It’s called a memorial tree. You plant a tree over the urn. You can bury it with a biodegradable urn, or mix the ashes with the soil and…”

He didn’t know how to explain it properly. Burying his mother’s ashes under a tree, a week after her death, felt somewhat harsh, and he couldn’t find a way to explain it without upsetting Sejin. Cheon Sejoo shrugged his shoulders, trailing off.

Fortunately, Sejin didn’t seem surprised or shocked. He simply rested his cheek on his knees, lost in thought, staring blankly at Cheon Sejoo.

Meanwhile, Cheon Sejoo took the opportunity to look Sejin over. Had he been eating properly while he was gone? Were there any injuries he’d missed yesterday? He checked him over belatedly. Then Sejin, who had been thinking quietly, asked as if curious, 

“What about scattering the ashes at sea?”

“I think… that’s only possible in Incheon and Busan.”

Sejin considered this for a moment, then shook his head. “Mom didn’t like the West Sea or Busan,” he muttered, then continued,

“Is tree burial… expensive?”

“…It’s not expensive. Don’t worry about that and just choose what you want.”

Nothing was more heartbreaking than worrying about money in the face of a loved one’s death. He desperately wished Sejin wouldn’t have to worry about such things.

At his words, Sejin looked up and stared at Cheon Sejoo. Then, with an unreadable expression, he bit his lip and asked,

“How… do you know so much about this?”

His clear eyes were filled with questions. Have you also lost someone, like me? he seemed to be asking silently. Cheon Sejoo avoided his gaze and shrugged, replying casually, “I looked it up online.” Then he told Sejin,

“It’s okay, so don’t rush into a decision. Choose what you want.”

“Okay…”

Sejin nodded silently. 

Silence settled between them again, and then Cheon Sejoo heard his name.

“Cheon Sejoo.”

His gaze, fixed on the TV, shifted toward Sejin. Sejin stared at him intently, his face flushed, then climbed down from the sofa and came over to where he was sitting. He sat down on the floor, rested his chin on the left armrest, and looked up at Cheon Sejoo. Sejin was staring at Cheon Sejoo with an expression that was a little softer than usual. Cheon Sejoo momentarily forgot to breathe.

Sejin’s eyes, usually framed by thin double eyelids, were gently relaxed. Beneath his right eye was a red spot that hadn’t been there before, resembling a droplet of blood, vividly crimson. It seemed to be the mark left by a burst capillary, likely from wiping away tears.

Cheon Sejoo gaze down at him, finding himself wanting to brush away that mark, which strangely resembled a teardrop with his fingertips. Sejin’s transparent eyes shone between his long eyelashes, and his plump lips were pressed together. With his cheeks tinged faintly red, as if flushed, he was so beautiful it was impossible to look away.

Meeting his intense gaze, Sejin eventually parted his lips to speak.

“You told me I had to leave the house when I turned twenty.”

“…….”

Long, slender fingers moved cautiously. Sejin placed his hand over the back of Cheon Sejoo’s, which rested on the armrest. Then, he leaned his face against their clasped hands, the soft leather of the armrest cushioning his cheek. In that position, he began to caress the rough fingertips right in front of him.

“I’m an adult now…”

His soft breath grazed Cheon Sejoo’s hand. Cheon Sejoo curled his fingers, dampened by Sejin’s warm exhalation.

As Cheon Sejoo took his hand away, leaving Sejin empty-handed, Sejin shifted and pressed his palm against Cheon Sejoo’s knee instead. Slowly tracing the outline of his kneecap visible beneath the thin fabric of his pants. He glanced up and asked,

“…Can I stay with you?”

It was a question so vulnerable, so impossible to refuse. Before Cheon Sejoo realized it, his hand, which he had retreated moments earlier, was now placed on top of Sejin’s head. Soft hair wrapped around his fingers. A feeling of fullness spread somewhere deep in his chest, as though something was brimming and about to overflow. Struggling to keep himself from being consumed by that vivid sensation, he gently stroked Sejin’s hair.

“…….”

Sejin waited quietly for Cheon Sejoo’s answer, accepting his touch. Sejin had no intention of pressuring him. The glimpse of vulnerability he’d let him see had made Cheon Sejoo slightly more cautious.

. “…Your mother asked me. She asked me to take care of you.”

That was the answer Cheon Sejoo finally gave. Sejin’s eyes narrowed, and he bit his lip at the unexpected mention of his mother.

Kim Hyunkyung had known about his feelings for Cheon Sejoo. Her request, despite knowing that, meant she truly trusted and relied on him.

“If you want, you can stay.”

His voice, granting permission, was sweet, his words brushing against Sejin’s ear with a gentleness that made his heart race.

Cheon Sejoo’s hands were always rough and calloused, bearing the marks of his work, yet his touch felt infinitely soft and tender to Sejin. Every time he brushed through Sejin’s hair, goosebumps erupted across his skin, and his mouth went dry.

What would it feel like if he caressed my entire body? 

Sejin bit his lip, imagining a scenario too vague to even fully picture. Suddenly, a voice, as if drawing a line, cut through his thoughts.

“I need someone to do the housework anyway, and you’re good at it. I’ll hire you as a housekeeper.”

“…….”

Sejin furrowed then smoothed his right eyebrow, unseen by Cheon Sejoo, and lifted his head.

A housekeeper?

Now he wants to treat me like a housekeeper?

He felt a sudden urge to argue. Sejin’s patience was never particularly deep. However, he managed to stop himself, seeing a flicker of the same fear he’d seen yesterday in Cheon Sejoo’s eyes.

Yesterday, confronted with the emotions Sejin had unknowingly revealed in his sleep, Cheon Sejoo had run. Left alone in the empty apartment, Sejin had felt a profound sense of despair. He had believed Cheon Sejoo was different from the others, and the image of him turning his back on him and disappearing at that moment had deeply wounded him.

But as he traced Cheon Sejoo’s presence in the empty apartment, a strong conviction arose once more in his heart. The more he thought about what Cheon Sejoo had done for him, the more certain he became that he wouldn’t leave him alone, now that he had lost his mother.

As he waited for Cheon Sejoo to return, clinging to that desperate hope, replaying yesterday’s events in his mind, Sejin had realized something was amiss. Cheon Sejoo’s reaction simply didn’t make sense.

If he didn’t like it, he would say so. If he liked it, he would say that too. He was a man of clarity, expressing his likes and dislikes clearly. Sejin had always believed that if he ever confessed to Cheon Sejoo, he would receive a straightforward answer.

So it was strange—very strange—that he had reacted so flusteredly, retreating as he did.

Sejin knew there were sides of Cheon Sejoo he didn’t know. But only now did he realize that those parts might run far deeper and darker than he had imagined.

For some reason, a reason Sejin couldn’t fathom, Cheon Sejoo was now trying to treat him as nothing more than a housekeeper. After caressing his cheek so tenderly, after holding him so warmly, after kissing his forehead so softly, now this.

He had once thought that once he became an adult, he could pursue a relationship with Cheon Sejoo without any complications. But now he realized how naïve that belief had been.

Still, he couldn’t help feeling aggrieved. Deep down, he couldn’t help but think that Cheon Sejoo had tempted him only to feign ignorance afterward like a thief denying his actions. Not wanting to resent him, Sejin chose to suppress those thoughts.

Regardless of what Cheon Sejoo was thinking, Sejin had no intention of remaining merely a housekeeper on the 41st floor.

If he didn’t know something, he would learn it. If there was a problem, he would solve it. He didn’t know why Cheon Sejoo was drawing a line, so he didn’t have a solution yet, but he remained optimistic.

Kwon Sejin was always that kind of person. He might lacked planning skills but had plenty of drive. Even when he was homeless, sleeping in the Shinsa Capital building pleading to meet Kim Hyunkyung, he had endured, believing things would work out somehow. And as a result, that led him back to receiving Cheon Sejoo’s help.

His current situation was much better than they were back then. Unlike before, when he was helpless, he could now confront the problem head-on. And his opponent was none other than Cheon Sejoo, who was endlessly soft when it came to him. Sejin didn’t believe Sejoo could reject him forever.

“I’d like that.” 

Having come to his conclusion, Sejin replied.

His fingertips rested lightly on Cheon Sejoo’s knee. Shifting his position, Sejin placed both hands on Cheon Sejoo’s thighs and looked up at him, speaking with firm resolve,

“I want to stay with you.”

“…….”

Cheon Sejoo looked down at him silently, his dark eyes scanning Sejin’s face.

Sejin had never been good at lying, but since his mother’s illness, he had become much better at hiding his true feelings. 

I have no ulterior motives. I really don’t. 

Facing Sejin’s innocent gaze, even Cheon Sejoo couldn’t help but be deceived.

“Work hard. Or I’ll fire you.”

At his words, drawing another line, Sejin simply smiled. He chuckled inwardly, as if scoffing at the absurdity, and rested his chin on Cheon Sejoo’s knee. Then, he suddenly brought up a conversation they had a year ago.

“Do you remember when we first met? You asked me what I was going to do, and I said I’d ask my mom.”

“Yes.”

It was an unexpected topic. 

What is he trying to say? Cheon Sejoo wondered, meeting Sejin’s eyes.

“Do you know why I said that?”

It wasn’t a question that required an answer. Cheon Sejoo waited patiently for him to continue. Sejin lowered his gaze, blinked, and then sat up and looked at Cheon Sejoo. His voice was calm.

“Back then, the only decent adult around me was my mom. I didn’t know anything, and she was the only one who could give me answers.”

“…….”

“I haven’t changed much, even now. I really don’t know what to do or how to move forward.”

But despite saying he felt lost, Sejin’s voice wasn’t gloomy. He took Cheon Sejoo’s hand and pressed his cheek against his rough palm. The cool touch sent shivers down his skin. Rubbing his cheek against Cheon Sejoo’s hand, sharing his warmth, Sejin continued,

“Now, the only adult I have is you. You’re the only one who can give me answers. So I’ll keep asking you, Cheon Sejoo. What should I do? What do I need to do?”

“…Okay.”

“And now, it’s your turn to answer.”

Sejin was resolute. He had no doubts about his decision. You’re the only one I have left, he was saying with his whole heart.

“You have to tell me what to do. Okay?”

Just as Cheon Sejoo had done to him once, Sejin wrapped his arms around Cheon Sejoo’s waist, his large frame pressing close. A warm embrace enveloped Cheon Sejoo, filling him with a deep sense of comfort.

It wasn’t difficult. Guiding Sejin, and leading him toward happiness, was something even a pathetic person like him could do. It was no different from what he had been doing all along. He just had to continue cherishing, teaching, and protecting Sejin. He was confident he could do that better than anyone else.

He nodded and hugged Sejin back. A quiet whisper reached his ears.

“I’m glad… you’re here…”

Cheon Sejoo bit his lip, swallowing the words he wanted to say. 

Me too. 

Instead of answering, he held Sejin’s head close and kissed his hair.

He wished this moment could last forever.

This moment, where Sejin didn’t try to understand him, where he could remain a good person in his eyes, protecting him in this comforting embrace…