PS | Chapter 2.14

Sihoo’s expression was languid at first but flickered with surprise when he saw Jehyuk freshly showered. The lethargic look quickly transformed as he raised his eyebrows and twisted his lips into a smile.

“Hyuk-ah.”

Rubbing his wet hair, Jehyuk obediently responded,

“Yeah.”

Sihoo’s gaze landed on Jehyuk’s upper body, sweeping across his straight, firm collarbones once. Then it moved to his clearly defined chest and the slightly shadowed abs below. As his eyes returned to Jehyuk’s chest, Sihoo made a meaningful remark.

“Coming out like that puts me in a tough spot.”

Jehyuk was startled. Wondering what he had done wrong, he hastily checked his appearance. Apparently, coming out in just a towel wasn’t exactly a good look.

“Sorry, I forgot to ask for clothes to change into… I thought it was okay since we’re both guys.”

Sihoo shook his head and stood up. He walked slowly towards Jehyuk, who had frozen in place.

“It’s not that I don’t like looking.”

Puzzled by what that meant, Jehyuk looked up at Sihoo, who was now within arm’s reach. Sihoo’s gaze traced over Jehyuk’s body as if touching him; from the straight neck to the collarbones, and down the curves to the towel around his waist.

The gaze felt tangible, even though it was just a look. It brought back the secretive touches they had shared in the car—the soft and smooth feeling of a hand on his genitals, the warmth, and the tingling pleasure that seemed to shoot through his spine.

Feeling the stir of excitement again, despite having climaxed earlier, Jehyuk took a step back. Sihoo matched his movement, closing the distance almost immediately. He leaned in and whispered in Jehyuk’s ear.

“I like guys, you know.”

His brown eyes curved invitingly.

“What do you think I’m thinking when you’re almost naked like this?”

Jehyuk tensed up in Sihoo’s embrace-like stance. They were about the same height, but up close, Sihoo always seemed bigger, more imposing. Jehyuk, who was taller than average and rarely felt physically overpowered by anyone, found this situation unfamiliar and his heart began to race.

The room fell silent. Instead of giving an answer, Sihoo gently placed a hand on Jehyuk’s lower back. His fingers touched the sculpted muscles and the nicely indented waist.

The fingers that touched his back seemed to feel every bit of his skin as they swept across his waist. The excitement Jehyuk had felt in the car resurfaced. And then, Jehyuk realized what Sihoo meant.

…Was he excited like me?

That thought unexpectedly pleased Jehyuk. His sharp eyes softened with embarrassment, and he looked up at Sihoo with a brighter face, almost without realizing.

“Do you… wanna do it?”

Jehyuk’s question was about the act they had engaged in in the car—handling and stroking each other’s genitals. The idea might have been repulsive with someone else, but with Sihoo, it seemed possible, even something he was eager to do. And he was curious to see Sihoo’s reaction.

Instead of replying right away, Sihoo continued to rub Jehyuk’s lower back. A shiver ran down Jehyuk’s spine, and Sihoo’s hand slowly moved lower, stopping only when it reached the base of his spine connecting to his hips.

“I’m okay with it.”

Jehyuk responded with a mix of hesitation and firmness. He was sincere. Although inexperienced, he was known to learn quickly. Recalling what Sihoo had done in the car, he felt he could manage to reciprocate.

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

Sihoo asked with a look that seemed to find the situation somewhat amusing, as if watching someone confident yet clueless.

“The stuff we did… in the car…?”

Sihoo finally burst out laughing. What was so funny? He chuckled deeply and then whispered low in Jehyuk’s ear.

“Remember when I talked about being a bottom?”

Of course, he remembered, though he still didn’t quite understand what it meant.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll show you what it means.”

The promise to teach him made Jehyuk listen intently. Swallowing dryly, he waited for what would come next as Sihoo drew closer. Sihoo almost touched his earlobe with his lips, then looked down, his voice dropping unusually low.

“Here.”

The hand that had stopped just above his hips slowly slid under the towel. If it had been his waist, maybe he wouldn’t have reacted as much, but the area near his hips was a place where he rarely touched himself. Ji Jehyuk gasped and froze on the spot.

Seeing him go stiff like a board, Yoon Sihoo swallowed a chuckle, his laughter stuck in his throat.

“This hole down here is where you take in a dick. Inside, there’s a spot you’d really like, Hyuk-ah.”

Sihoo’s voice deepened.

“What I want to do is, shove my dick into your hole and just fuck that spot.”

Just hearing those words was so lewd that Jehyuk felt his mind go numb. Dirty talk, something he had never heard before, had this strange power to arouse a person just by making them understand the act itself. He couldn’t picture it at all, but the words “hole” and “dick” were enough for him to grasp the context. And the fact that Sihoo had applied those words to him gave him a feeling he couldn’t quite name.

“Even if you cry that you can’t take it anymore, I won’t stop. I’ll just keep fucking you.”

His mind boiled over, to the point that it wouldn’t have been strange if he lost it completely. The muscles around his heart clenched so tight that it hurt. Without realizing it, his body began to tremble.

“That’s what I want to do. Is that okay?”

The words were so explicit, so far past any reasonable limit, that Jehyuk ended up squeezing his eyes shut. He had no idea how to respond to something this obscene. He should say something—anything—but his mouth wouldn’t open.

Maybe Sihoo noticed his trembling eyelashes, because he soon withdrew the fingers he had slipped under the towel and leaned back.

At the sudden loss of warmth, Jehyuk cracked his eyes open. Sihoo was looking down at him with the same expression as before. When their eyes met, he smirked.

“I don’t have a habit of messing with drunk people. It was a joke.”

Sihoo sounded so nonchalant that Jehyuk had no choice but to believe him. But something about the way he brushed it off as a lighthearted joke left him feeling strangely suffocated.

What kind of expression was he supposed to make?

It wasn’t the kind of conversation friends were supposed to have, so maybe he should feel relieved. Maybe he should be glad that it was just a joke.

Maybe it was because he was sobering up, but only now did he remember the fact that they were friends.

“And I’m not into people without experience.”

Sihoo’s tone was casual as he listed his preferences, his expression calm and composed—so unlike Jehyuk, who was caught in a whirlwind of confusion.

Nothing had actually happened, and yet, it still felt like he had been rejected.

Jehyuk let those words sink in before he asked,

“Why not?”

He hadn’t needed to ask, but the question slipped out anyway.

Sihoo raised an eyebrow and looked him over, as if trying to gauge his intentions. Under that scrutinizing gaze, Jehyuk quickly came up with an excuse.

We’re friends, so it’s natural to be curious about something like this.

“People put too much meaning into their first time. That’s why I don’t like it.”

His voice was soft, but there was a hint of cynicism underneath.

“The ending is more important than the beginning.”

It wasn’t just Jehyuk’s imagination—there really was a trace of bitterness in Sihoo’s voice. The same cold expression he had worn at the bar the other night flickered across his face.

“The word ‘first’ makes it too easy for people to shove all the responsibility onto someone else.”

With that, Sihoo took a step back. As if to clear the air, he swiftly wrapped up the conversation.

“Sorry. I talked too much. Let’s change and get some sleep. We don’t want to be late for practice again.”

“…Yeah.”

Jehyuk backed off, reading the mood. But doubt lingered in his chest.

As silence fell, he found himself wondering what kind of experiences Sihoo had that led him to think this way. What had happened to him to make him believe that? He felt an almost desperate need to know.

There was so much he didn’t know about Sihoo.

And it hit him then—just how little he really knew. It was almost absurd how they had managed to stay friends all these years despite that.

He had always thought that keeping a certain distance was normal in friendships, that this was just the way things were between them. But the more he saw how other people connected with each other, the more he realized something was missing between them.

He knew nothing about Sihoo’s past. The childhood stories Kim Ijun casually mentioned, the unpleasant incident that had happened just a few days ago—Sihoo had never told him any of it.

That wasn’t all.

He didn’t know Sihoo’s birthday, his hobbies, or even that he could drive. He hadn’t known he owned a car, or that he lived alone in that big house.

The only thing Jehyuk knew for certain about Sihoo was this—he hated when people pried too much.

That was it.

That was the one and only thing he had learned, simply by spending enough time by his side.

Jehyuk changed into the clothes Sihoo had given him and lay down on the bed. Even after the lights went out, his thoughts wouldn’t stop.

Lying there, he stared at Sihoo’s profile in the dark. He always slept on his back, keeping a bit of distance between them.

Something had changed.

Had he ever been this curious about what Sihoo was thinking?

Maybe it was because their years of friendship had dulled his emotions, but Jehyuk couldn’t remember ever wanting to know this badly before.

It felt almost instinctual—like he had to understand Sihoo in order to stay by his side.

And he understood that fact all too well.

But even so, he wanted to know.

What kind of food do you like?

When is your birthday?

What’s your blood type?

What kind of movies and music do you enjoy?

What do you do when you’re not with me?

What are your parents like?

And what kind of person are you, to have lived alone in such a big house from such a young age, always keeping people at arm’s length?

And most of all… what do you think of me?

Jehyuk stayed up, turning those thoughts over in his mind until exhaustion finally caught up with him.

By the time he fell asleep, dawn was just about to break.

Right before closing his eyes, he took one last look at Sihoo’s face.

The bluish light that settled over him was neither morning nor night—it was a color caught between purple and silver, like a boundary. And for some reason, it reminded him of Sihoo.

It was a color he had seen countless times before, yet tonight, it felt unfamiliar.

Lying there on the bed, watching the curtain’s shadow shift over the sheets, Jehyuk slowly reached out.

He wanted to touch the light that lay over Sihoo’s face.

But as his large hand covered his features, the light disappeared.

Only a dark shadow, molded in the shape of his fingers, took its place.

Seeing how quickly the light vanished beneath his touch, Jehyuk let out a quiet breath.

For some reason, this fleeting moment—this small, unreachable thing—felt inexplicably sad.