Free Web NovelIt didn’t end with just buying a single flower pot. A watering °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° can, plant nutrients, soil, trays—after going around the market, his hands were loaded with stuff.
He’d tried to hold back, telling himself there was no point piling things up when he’d be leaving anyway, but failed. The vendors’ aggressive sales pitches—and Yang Seokho constantly egging him on to buy more—were to blame.
Every time Haejun tried to pay, Yang Seokho would block him and shove his own card forward. Even when Haejun insisted on paying himself, the guy was stubborn as hell.
“Forget it. That card isn’t even from the boss anyway.”
“But still... I’m the one raising them...”
“That guy’s got money rotting away. Even if he went bankrupt tomorrow, his family would live off it for five generations. So stop worrying and just spend.”
“The boss is that rich?”
“At least rich enough not to bother with pocket change.”
“I’m an adult, you know.”
“Yeah, sure. You better be. Otherwise we’d have a problem.”
After carrying everything inside, Yang Seokho grinned, looking satisfied. Haejun felt bad for using him like a pack mule and tried to at least offer him coffee, but got a firm refusal in return. He said he’d only stepped inside because of the luggage, but the boss’s house felt too empty and cold—he didn’t want to stick around.
Left alone, Haejun sat down in the empty space and started assembling a small rack. Following the instructions, attaching this and connecting that, it came together quickly. When he lined the pots up on top, it actually looked pretty decent.
“Not bad.”
The three little succulents lined up neatly caught his eye the most. He’d bought them just so it wouldn’t look like he’d only gotten edible plants, but he ended up liking them quite a bit.
By the time he finished tidying up, it was past 8 p.m. Normally the housekeeper would come around this time, but he’d heard she couldn’t make it today due to personal matters.
The burger he’d eaten at lunch had finally digested, and his stomach growled, empty. Yang Seokho had already told him Lee Kangjoo would be late because of work, so he was just about to look for his phone to order something light.
Then the intercom lit up—notification that a car had arrived.
Haejun shot up from where he was sitting on the floor.
Even accounting for parking and the elevator ride up, it would take at least five more minutes, but he couldn’t sit still. His ass kept twitching with restless energy.
Perching on the sofa, Haejun stared at the front door, waiting—now? not yet?—eyes glued to it. His cheeks were already flushed before it even opened. He was ready to chatter at Lee Kangjoo about everything—what happened today, what he talked about with Yang Seokho.
“Boss!”
The door finally opened. Haejun hurried to stand, nearly tripping before catching himself, then rushed over as fast as he could.
“You’re back!”
Lee Kangjoo looked at Haejun once, then glanced past his shoulder at the changed living room. His eyes swept over the neatly lined pots of succulents, the cherry tomato seedlings, the basil. A faint smile flickered at the corner of his lips.
Haejun’s gaze wandered all over Lee Kangjoo’s face, unable to settle. The thirst that hadn’t been satisfied by photos was finally quenched. He wanted to throw himself into his arms, to turn the lingering hallucination he’d been carrying under his nose into something real—but the voice of reason screaming not to stopped him.
“Do you like sushi?”
“Sushi?”
Caught off guard, Haejun lowered his head. In Lee Kangjoo’s hand was a paper bag with a logo on it.
He’d taken care of breakfast—and now dinner too...
Haejun’s dream had always been to end up in a rich household, living like a spoiled pet stuffed full of food. It looked like, at least for now, Lee Kangjoo was making that dream come true.
But strangely, right now he couldn’t even focus on the food. All he could see was Lee Kangjoo. All he could hear was his voice.
Don’t do it. You’ll regret it. His head warned him clearly—but the brakes weren’t working.
“I love it.”
The truth slipped out and reached him. Hoping it would just sound like an answer to the question, Haejun threw his arms open and hugged Lee Kangjoo tightly.
Burying his face in the man’s shirt, he rubbed his cheek against it like he was shaking his head, breathing in deeply. The scent of his body melted him, his whole body going soft. Did he know how badly Haejun wanted to stay like this forever, frozen in this moment?
“....”
Lee Kangjoo paused for a moment, but didn’t push him away. Instead, he lifted his free hand and gently stroked Haejun’s now-short hair.
* * *
The housekeeper came four days a week, but sitting around doing nothing all day still made Haejun feel awkward as hell. Limping slightly, he did what he could to help. He ran the washing machine, took dry towels out of the dryer, and whenever there was something on a high shelf the housekeeper couldn’t reach, he’d quickly go grab it.
He got close with the housekeeper pretty quickly. She was sociable and told him to call her Mrs. Jeong.
She handled all the household chores efficiently, but what really stood out was her cooking. Calling her a master wouldn’t even be an exaggeration. At least, it matched Haejun’s taste perfectly.
“Auntie, can I pack a little of this? I want to give it to a friend. He really likes soy-braised beef.”
Living alone in a place like this, eating well while Yohan struggled—it left a bad taste in his mouth. At Haejun’s request, Mrs. Jeong nodded readily.
“Of course. I’ll pack more than just that, so wait a bit.”
“Come on, you can speak casually to me.”
Maybe because he’d dealt with older women while working as a host, Haejun kept calling her auntie this, auntie that, chatting nonstop. Since she didn’t seem to mind, he leaned into it even more.
“Still... how can I speak casually to my employer?”
“My employer isn’t you—it’s the boss. I’m just... freeloading, I guess?”
“Is that so?”
Mrs. Jeong chuckled and brought out empty containers. She packed them generously with food, sealed them carefully, and handed him a paper bag. When Haejun tried to help, she waved him off.
“Sitting still is helping. I was told very clearly before I came—make sure the young man doesn’t do anything.”
“The boss said that?”
“Yes. I was wondering just how much he treasured you, not even letting water touch your hands... I thought he must be some devoted husband.”
Laughing at her own misunderstanding, Mrs. Jeong covered her mouth. Haejun’s cheeks flushed red. A devoted husband—ridiculous, obviously, but just hearing the word made something warm stir in his chest.
“What’s your relationship with the boss? Family?”
“Just... someone I know. I hurt my leg, so I’m staying here for a bit.”
“If he’s just someone you know, why do you call him ‘boss’ instead of ‘hyung’?”
Sharp.
The only time he’d ever called him “Kangjoo hyung” was quietly, to himself, like some pathetic form of self-comfort. He wanted to get used to that name someday—but whether that day would ever come was uncertain.
“I just got used to calling him boss.”
“I see. You’re lucky. Having a close older guy who takes care of you just because you hurt your leg. And he’s insanely handsome too... I swear, I’ve never seen a man that good-looking in my life.”
Haejun nodded hard in agreement. Even the first time, when he’d been terrified by the smell of blood, he’d still thought the guy was handsome. Now that he’d fallen for him, it was even worse. A face you could stare at forever and never get tired of.
“Not that you’re bad-looking or anything... you’re handsome too!”
“Our auntie’s got a sharp eye. I know. I’m pretty good-looking myself.”
He’d made a living off his face before. Maybe not on Lee Kangjoo’s level, but he knew he wasn’t lacking. Resting his chin in his hands like a flower pose, Haejun accepted the compliment coyly, making Mrs. Jeong burst out laughing.
After she left, Haejun texted Yohan. Around this time, Yohan would be wrapping up deliveries and getting ready to head to the bar. Haejun asked to meet for coffee—he wanted to give him the food too—and got a quick reply that he’d come right away.
He waited at a café near the house. Not long after, a sleek black bike pulled up beside the building. Yohan took off his helmet, spotted Haejun through the café’s glass windows, and walked in with long strides.
The first thing Yohan looked at was Haejun’s leg. Seeing the cast, he let out a short laugh.
“Nice job. Real nice.”
That definitely wasn’t praise. Haejun shrugged.
“This wasn’t even my fault. The other guy was speeding and caused the accident.”
“What about insurance?”
“The boss said he’d handle it. Told me to send the hospital receipts.”
“Tch. You should’ve just checked yourself into the hospital and stayed there.”
Lee Kangjoo hadn’t given him the chance. After treatment, Haejun had basically been hauled straight into his house and was now living there. When he’d said he needed to go back to his officetel to grab his things, everything—down to his underwear—had shown up at the front door the next afternoon.
“I’ve taken care of the officetel.”
Did that mean he was supposed to stay here permanently now?
His heart had pounded with excitement—then sank just as quickly. It could just as easily mean that once the contract period ended, there’d be nothing left between them.
