Chapter 120: Jealousy Turns Into Something Real

“Wow, must be so many you can’t even count. I’m jealous.”

Wooju let out an irritated laugh and dropped onto the sofa with a thud.

Honestly, he knew—Won Jitae had the looks, the physique, and the career that would naturally attract people.

So of course people would be drawn to him.

But then why did this childish feeling keep creeping up?

“No, but obviously I rejected them all. Why would I accept any of them?”

Jitae sat beside him, explaining desperately.

But Wooju didn’t even react, just grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

“Gang Wooju, I’m telling you.”

Jitae frowned, clearly annoyed at being ignored.

“I’m listening.”

“Does that look like listening? You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“You cut people off and only say what you want.”

Wooju’s eyebrow twitched.

Who started this, exactly?

“You’ve got some nerve flipping this on me.”

“I was trying to explain, but you—do you really think I accepted everyone’s feelings?”

“As if.”

By now, the TV sound had completely faded under their voices.

“Then what is it?”

“Because I’m jealous, okay!”

Wooju finally exploded, his voice echoing through the living room and spreading across the entire house.

Only after saying it did he realize—and immediately covered his face.

But the redness in his ears didn’t escape Jitae.

“Wow… this is really nice……”

Jitae muttered quietly, his own face turning just as red.

“Hey, enough. Go wash up. I’ll get you some clothes.”

It was already nearing midnight.

They couldn’t keep going like this forever.

“Give me a kiss, then I’ll go.”

He should’ve known the moment Jitae’s eyes lit up earlier.

“Are you crazy?”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

Didn’t he say before that just being by his side was enough?

That he wouldn’t get greedy?

Yet now, only hours after confirming their feelings,

Jitae had become completely bold.

“Just go.”

“Do it.”

The problem was—

every small action from Jitae hit Wooju way too hard.

That Won Jitae… asking for a kiss?

The same guy he used to fight with?

It was insanely awkward.

And yet—

before he knew it, Wooju was stepping closer.

Their distance closed instantly, his vision filled with nothing but Jitae.

And ironically, at that moment—his rationality returned.

“Don’t mess around—”

Just as Wooju was about to stop and tell him to go shower—

Jitae leaned in and lightly pressed his lips against Wooju’s.

“Hey!”

“I’m going to shower.”

Before Wooju could grab him, Jitae dashed into the bathroom.

“That idiot really changed as he got older……”

He used to not be like this.

Now he was shameless.

“Give me a kiss and I’ll shower”?

Where did he even learn that?

Using his face like that was completely unfair.

Still, with flushed ears, Wooju quietly took out clothes for him.

Thankfully, their builds were similar, so everything fit—

except the sweatpants being slightly short, which made Wooju feel the unfairness of the universe.

After that, Wooju rolled up his sleeves and cooked a late-night snack for Jitae, who hadn’t eaten properly.

Something light, slightly sweet, not spicy—just the way Jitae liked.

But when Jitae started making a fuss about it being his lover’s first meal for him,

they ended up arguing again.

While eating, they watched a movie Jitae liked.

It was a noir film—fast-paced, intense, gripping.

Wooju was completely absorbed.

“Is it good?”

“Yeah. Movies you recommend are always good.”

Even as he answered, his eyes stayed glued to the screen.

Jitae watched him for a moment—

then slowly took in the situation.

Past midnight.

Empty plates.

The glow of the screen filling the dark room.

And himself—

sitting right next to Wooju.

Close enough to reach out and touch.

Jitae leaned his head gently on Wooju’s shoulder.

“Tired?”

“No. Just…”

“If you’re tired, go sleep first.”

Resting on his solid shoulder,

Jitae naturally placed his hand over Wooju’s.

Wooju flinched—but slowly tightened his grip in return.

Everything had changed.

There was a time he couldn’t even hold his hand.

But now—

Wooju held it back.

It might seem small,

but for Jitae,

this was the biggest change in his life.

He even tried to hug his waist,

but got scolded for disturbing the movie.

Still—he was happy.

Truly happy.

For the first time in his life.

Around 2 a.m.,

the end credits rolled across the screen.

As Wooju got up to clean up,

he felt Jitae’s head suddenly grow heavy on his shoulder.

“Won Jitae?”

“……”

Soft breathing followed.

He had fallen asleep mid-movie.

Come to think of it, he came right after work.

If he was tired, he could’ve just said so.

“Jitae, wake up. Go sleep inside.”

Wooju gently shook him awake and led him to the bedroom, letting him take the bed.

“You’re not sleeping?”

Jitae grabbed his wrist.

“I’ll clean up and come in.”

“You’ll come in, right?”

“Yeah. My back hurts—I can’t sleep on the floor.”

Hearing that, Jitae finally let go and slowly closed his eyes.

Wooju quietly shut the door.

Back in the living room,

he cleaned the table under the TV light.

Even at this hour,

his habit of cleaning up immediately didn’t change.

As he washed the dishes quietly,

he kept glancing toward the bedroom.

It felt strange—

someone else was sleeping there.

And that someone was Won Jitae.

Life really was unpredictable.

After turning off the TV,

he noticed Jitae’s phone on the sofa.

Probably slipped out during the movie.

He picked it up to place it by the bed—

when suddenly, it vibrated.

Startled, Wooju looked at the screen.

His expression shifted slightly.

[Mom]

There was nothing strange about that.

Parents call their children all the time.

But—

Jitae’s situation was different.

He had heard about the family conflict.

About the pain both Jitae and his mother had gone through.

Jitae had moved on from volleyball.

From rivalry.

But what about his family?

What kind of relationship did he have with his mother now?

As Wooju stared at the screen,

the call ended.

The phone went dark—

like the quiet night outside.

Jitae suffered from insomnia.

Not since birth—

but since the end of high school,

after everything that happened.

Whenever he lay alone in the dark,

it felt like shards of glass might fly at him from nowhere.

And memories—

of soaring high on the court—

would return as dreams,

disturbing his sleep again and again.

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