GBH 117

“…..”

Se-kyung’s eyes, which were staring at the message on the screen for a long time, were so dark that it was impossible to know what he was thinking. Droplets of water fell onto the screen, which seemed to be etched into his dark eyes. It was moisture that had flowed from the ends of his clumped wet hair.

Se-kyung pushed his wet hair back. He had also gotten wet from going in and out of the bathtub. Yet, busy taking care of Song Yi-heon, he neglected himself, roughly drying off with a towel before coming out.

While he had carefully dressed Song Yi-heon from top to bottom in the bed and dried his short hair with warm air, Se-kyung himself had barely pulled on a pair of training pants over his hips and carelessly shaken out his long wet hair.

Even now, Se-kyung left the streams of water running down the curves of his bare upper body, only wiping his hand on the towel around his neck to check if Song Yi-heon’s body temperature was normal.

The temperature of his gaunt cheeks and nape was normal for now. But not knowing when a fever might come on, he planned to watch over him all night.

As Se-kyung felt Song Yi-heon’s breath while turning his hand back and forth, he pondered why his father had called for him. It would have been strange if he hadn’t called. Having been caught kissing a male classmate at the front gate, there was no way his father, who wanted to keep his son under his direct supervision, would let it slide.

Se-kyung had no intention of ever letting Song Yi-heon go, so it was something that would have to be faced eventually, but he thought the timing was unfortunate and suddenly laughed with a deflating sound.

Even if it wasn’t today, the timing would never be good when it involved Choi Myung-hyun. Se-kyung was self-deprecating. To his father, he was always inadequate, a son who needed to be directly monitored and controlled. Being caught kissing Song Yi-heon was just another incident to be monitored, following what happened when he was 6 years old.

Although Se-kyung had never heard his father’s values, he was certain that if he was an upright and strict father with old-fashioned principles, he would not tolerate homosexuality. He thought he’d probably get slapped tonight.

If it couldn’t be avoided after being caught, it was better to get it over with tonight. It had been a night of many events, so one more unpleasant memory could be buried among the others.

“Mmm…..”

Song Yi-heon, who had fallen asleep as if exhausted, groaned and tossed. Judging it would be okay to leave him alone for a moment, Se-kyung pulled on the sweatshirt hanging on the desk chair over his wet body. The sweatshirt quickly became damp from the remaining moisture and his wet hair, but Se-kyung didn’t mind and dried his hair. He dried it just enough so water wouldn’t drip, turned off the lights leaving only the night light on so Song Yi-heon could sleep comfortably, and left.

As Se-kyung was going downstairs, he stopped at the railing when he heard voices.

“What’s all this fuss in the middle of the night? Shouldn’t we go to the hospital?”

The housekeeper, who had just come out of the kitchen, was making a fuss while setting down a tray with cooling pads, fever reducers, and a glass of water on the table. These items prepared for when a fever might come were for Song Yi-heon.

“We’ll have to see. If we need anything, I’ll call you, so go rest.”

“Oh, yes, yes. Call me anytime.”

Even after the live-in housekeeper returned to her room, Se-kyung didn’t come down, holding onto the railing. He watched his father’s back as he hunched over with his face buried in his hands.

His back, with the white shirt pulled taut, swelled and deflated greatly. If not for the distance, one might have heard the deep sigh that came from within him.

Se-kyung, not wanting to see Choi Myung-hyun so despondent as if the world was crumbling, went down the stairs. Sensing his presence, Choi Myung-hyun composed his expression and turned to look at Se-kyung, but unlike muscles, the wrinkles he couldn’t control at will couldn’t erase the frustration that made him look so gloomy. Se-kyung consciously smoothed his lips that were about to harden.

“How’s your friend?”

“He’s asleep.”

“How is he feeling?”

“I’m planning to contact his doctor when day breaks.”

Choi Myung-hyun nodded without saying much. Though he seemed to be maintaining his composure at a glance, in reality it was the opposite; Choi Myung-hyun put down the empty glass, realizing he had finished the water only after bringing the glass he had been fiddling with to his lips.

“Shall I bring you some water?”

“It’s fine. I’ve had plenty.”

While it was true that he had drunk a lot since the tall glass was empty, Choi Myung-hyun’s lips were dried white. It was understandable, having seen his son kissing the face of a male classmate.

The fact that they were particularly close was odd considering Se-kyung’s behavior up to now, never having had a friend he could call a best friend, but he hadn’t suspected it was that kind of emotion. His son had briefly dated a girl before, and he maintained an appropriate distance with other boys, showing no tendency towards homosexuality.

Then had there ever been someone with whom his son had formed a genuine relationship?

Not being kind or nice to everyone, but a relationship where he could open up and rely on when things were tough. Even if not specifically a friend, a teacher or parent… There was no one. No one at all.

Recalling his son’s relationships that he had monitored, Choi Myung-hyun’s brow furrowed painfully at the newly realized fact. He realized that in his desire for his son to live normally, he had missed something important. An even greater shock than witnessing his son kissing a boy weighed heavily on Choi Myung-hyun.

Meanwhile, despite Choi Myung-hyun’s refusal, Se-kyung went to the kitchen and brought water. Bringing a tall glass full of water for his father was also because he wanted water splashed on his own face.

Se-kyung wanted to ruin his relationship with his father. Even if it meant getting water thrown at him or being slapped, he wanted to visibly distort his relationship with the father who had oppressed him. When it came to Song Yi-heon, Se-kyung felt a rebelliousness he had never experienced before.

As he set down the water glass in front of Choi Myung-hyun, Se-kyung, sitting across from him, threw out the main point like a fastball, intending to finish the conversation before Choi Myung-hyun finished drinking the water.

“I liked him first. I chased after him asking to date. The commotion at the festival was also because I was clinging to Song Yi-heon, begging him to like me.”

Se-kyung spoke only the truth, solely to grate on his father’s nerves. He put away the artificial mask that had been hiding things appropriately and packaging them with smiles.

“I like him a lot. To the point where it has to be Song Yi-heon.”

Se-kyung didn’t think of himself as homosexual. Though he hadn’t lived long, in his 19 years, Se-kyung had never liked anyone or felt sexual urges towards anyone except Song Yi-heon. He had no feelings for the girls he had dated due to external pressure, and even his late wet dreams compared to his peers weren’t about people; Se-kyung had lived close to being asexual.

His criteria for falling in love was different from others. Gender wasn’t an issue in his criteria. Someone appeared who quenched a thirst he had never satisfied before, and that person happened to be male. If Song Yi-heon had been female, Choi Myung-hyun would have lived mistaking Se-kyung for heterosexual.

“… Se-kyung.” Whatever he wanted to say, Choi Myung-hyun called his son’s name in a trembling voice like a sigh, then drew in a sharp breath. He chose his words carefully, trying not to provoke his son’s unfamiliar appearance, “It’s not too late to think seriously and decide. You’re still young, and when you go out into society-“

“I’ve thought about it a lot.” Se-kyung cut off Choi Myung-hyun’s words. “Song Yi-heon accepts me as I am. You know too, Father. That I’m not normal. At 6 years old, killing someone because they were annoying, a kid who thinks about killing people isn’t normal, right?”

“Se-kyung. I didn’t mean-“

“Even out in society, it would be hard to meet someone like Song Yi-heon. No, it’s impossible. That’s why it has to be him.”

Choi Myung-hyun licked his parched lips. As if their roles had reversed, he couldn’t easily say anything. Perhaps from hearing his son’s honest feelings, Choi Myung-hyun pressed his palm against his trembling eyes, like his tangled thoughts.

The hands of the pendulum clock ticked. Even after the chimes announcing midnight rang out, Choi Myung-hyun maintained his silence. A long time passed. During that time, Choi Myung-hyun opened his mouth several times, but only inhaled or exhaled, unable to speak rashly as he organized his thoughts.

“… Well, liking someone isn’t a crime.”

Se-kyung, who had been patiently drinking the water he had brought for himself for a long time, paused. Choi Myung-hyun, whom he had expected to issue a stern rebuke, seemed somehow broken. Se-kyung felt that something like a thick wick that he thought could never be bent had been bent by Choi Myung-hyun, who had his face buried in both hands.

There was something Se-kyung had misunderstood. Choi Myung-hyun was neither incorruptible nor old-fashioned. Although his strict monitoring of his son to prevent him from committing murder might have appeared that way to Se-kyung, Choi Myung-hyun looked after his own interests. It’s just that he had nothing more important than his wife and son, so he had no selfish desires to pursue separately, but judging from his acceptance of Song Yi-heon’s proposed deal, he wasn’t incorruptible.

While he was somewhat old-fashioned due to his expertise in law, he was sensitive to equality like a double-edged sword. The legal standards that apply to all people should be the same. The criteria for applying the law don’t change just because the object of love is different from ordinary people.

At least by Choi Myung-hyun’s standards, homosexuality was neither something that would change the yardstick of the law, nor was it a crime.

“It’s not like it’s hurting anyone.”

What Choi Myung-hyun had been wary of was solely Se-kyung committing crimes. One wrongly buttoned button affects all the buttons that follow. One thing going wrong tends to ruin everything that happens afterwards in a chain reaction.

Homosexuality wasn’t in the category of wrongly buttoned buttons.

“It’s impossible to say anything with complete accuracy. But Se-kyung, there’s one thing I can say with certainty.” Choi Myung-hyun, who had rubbed his face dry and removed his hands, suddenly looked much older. “What I fear most is losing you.”