Chapter 67 – Indirect

“Cr—Wh-who, who cried?”

“Should I start by reciting your date of birth?” Sehun asked sarcastically.

“Just what did you see?”

“I don’t know—my associate, crouching in the corner of the street at night eating ramen?”

“How did you…?” Yoonshin attempted to retort without thinking but stopped himself.

Sehun must have seen through his shabby lie in the first place.
Inputting the fact that Sehun saw him crying into the equation, what happened the following day made sense.
Sehun returned to the parking garage because he was concerned about Yoonshin, who had cried.

Yoonshin assumed that Sehun might suspect that something upset him and that he cried based on his swollen eyelids and bloodshot eyes, but knowing the truth felt different.
He wondered if Sehun Kang was truly capable of being thoughtful of others.

“You were bawling your eyes out, crumpled in a corner just like when your father passed away.
Do you know how annoyed I was that day because of you? I was sleepless all night.” What came out of those red lips was not about the present but the past.
Yoonshin, who was confused as to what Sehun was talking about, widened his eyes upon realization.

Not only was it so long ago, but it was such a short moment that he wasn’t sure if the older man remembered.
“You remembered that?”

“You keep catching my eyes.
No, I keep glancing at you secretly because I’m bothered if you’d hole yourself up somewhere and cry.”

“…”

“The thought that something other than work is in my head bothers me greatly.
It’s driving me crazy.”

Yoonshin could finally fit the last few pieces of the puzzle together.
Sehun also remembered everything, so when he came to watch his trial with Mihee, they kept meeting eyes.
Sehun had recognized Yoonshin.

The two men exchanged looks fiercely with each other.
Sehun stared at the other’s pale face for a while, then unable to bear it any longer, he bit his lip and messed up the knot of his necktie.
His breathing was a bit rougher and his face a bit rosier.
He grabbed the end of his tie made of soft material and held it out to Yoonshin.

“Kiss this.”

Yoonshin’s eyes grew round.
Redness spread on his face like ink in water.
“Wh-what now, all of a sudden?”

“Kiss the tie.”

“Why in the world on your tie… and not even on lips? Isn’t that a bit cowardly?”

“Shut up and do it.
It’s an order.”

Yoonshin felt irked for some reason, but that was all.
Sehun said he didn’t want to, so Yoonshin couldn’t keep asking why Sehun wasn’t expressing his emotions clearly.
Moreover, Yoonshin didn’t know how he felt about the older man, although he was sure it was more unclear and indefinite than Sehun’s feelings for Yoonshin—he had no right to press on.

After some hesitation, Yoonshin made up his mind and exhaled deeply.
His reddened cheeks twitched because of the older man’s persistent gaze that lingered on his lips.
Then, Yoonshin grabbed the end of the tie and rubbed his lips like he was wiping his mouth.

Sehun watched from start to finish, then once Yoonshin lifted his lips off, Sehun rubbed his red lips over the fabric.
As if that wasn’t enough, he stuck out his tongue and traced over the fabric.
Held captive, Yoonshin watched helplessly, unable to resist or react.

Sehun had tilted his head slightly as he kissed his tie.
He looked back up at Yoonshin.
The moment their eyes met, Yoonshin felt dizzy, and his chin quivered.

Their sensitive skin didn’t even touch, yet both sighed at the same time.

Yoonshin had never felt this embarrassed in his life.
He couldn’t come up with anything to say.
While Yoonshin was collecting his breath, Sehun said in his deep voice, “Yoonshin Do.”

Sehun called Yoonshin by his full name for the first time.

Yoonshin didn’t know why.
He heard and saw his name every day, but for the sole reason that Sehun said it, he felt a strong, strange jolt.
It sent chills up his spine.
He couldn’t pinpoint the reason exactly, so he could only gape, dumbfounded.