Chapter 41: The Range of What’s Allowed

As he put the used pots from the stove into the cabinet, Woo-joo deliberately shut the door loudly.

He was heading to the refrigerator to check what ingredients were missing when he flinched.

“…What are you doing?”

Won Ji-tae, who had stormed into his room earlier in anger, was now plastered to the back of the refrigerator like a puppy that needed to poop, staring at him.

Only half his face was peeking out.

“Do you know when a person looks the most pathetic?”

“What, when they drink someone else’s beverage without permission?”

Woo-joo let out a scoff and put his hands on his hips crookedly.

“It’s when they express their emotions exactly as they feel them. Something an adult shouldn’t do.”

“If you’ve got something to say, stop beating around the bush and just say it.”

“I could hear all your stomping from inside the room.”

Was that why he was standing there behind the fridge, glaring like that?

Like a pet dog waiting for its owner to notice?

Seriously, what was this.

How could someone over 190 centimeters fold himself up like that.

“Ah, sorry. I was just annoyed because of someone.”

Woo-joo tilted his lips sarcastically.

“Sorry for being such a pathetic person who can’t control his emotions and drinks other people’s beverages without asking.”

It was clearly mocking.

Even as he said it, Woo-joo knew how childish he sounded.

He was aware they were filming, yet once his mouth opened, it was hard to stop.

Was it because Ji-tae had gotten angry over one drink?

Or because he had heard something unexpected come from his mouth?

Surprisingly, Ji-tae didn’t snap back.

He just kept staring at Woo-joo.

“Ha… what are we even doing. Let’s stop and just go grocery shopping.”

If they stayed here any longer, they would only fight childishly again.

Just as Woo-joo sighed and turned toward his room—

“…….”

“Why are you grabbing me?”

Ji-tae slowly caught his wrist and stopped him.

“Kang Woo-joo… are you really angry?”

Woo-joo blinked blankly.

Why ask something so obvious?

And wasn’t he the one who caused it?

It was like hitting someone on the back of the head and then asking, “Did that hurt?”

Ji-tae’s brows were tightly furrowed as he held onto Woo-joo’s wrist.

At first, Woo-joo assumed he was just annoyed.

But looking closer, it felt slightly different.

It almost seemed like Ji-tae was gauging his reaction.

‘Won Ji-tae, reading the room?’

The Ji-tae Woo-joo knew never cared about others’ reactions.

Whether it was confidence or indifference, at least back in school, he had never been the type to look at others’ moods.

“Are you sorry to me?”

Woo-joo asked suddenly, testing the ridiculous thought.

Ji-tae released his wrist at once, his shoulders twitching ever so slightly.

Some habits never changed.

Like that subtle shoulder tremor whenever he was caught off guard.

Woo-joo let out a soft laugh.

“If you want to apologize, then do it.”

Ji-tae turned his head aside and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Sorry. I kind of snapped earlier without thinking.”

It was rough, vague, and half-hearted.

But among the countless days they had fought, it was rare for Ji-tae to apologize first.

Strangely, even that was enough to melt something inside Woo-joo.

“Yeah. I’m sorry too for drinking it without asking.”

If someone apologized first, it was only fair to respond in kind.

Ji-tae gave a short nod, accepting it.

Yet he still couldn’t meet Woo-joo’s eyes, which was oddly funny.

Like a big dog pretending nothing happened after causing trouble.

Without thinking, Woo-joo reached out and ruffled his fluffy hair.

The gesture he couldn’t bring himself to do earlier came naturally now.

“…….”

At the touch of his palm, Ji-tae’s body stiffened automatically.

He stayed completely still, like a stone.

Woo-joo quickly withdrew his hand.

“Sorry. You said not to touch you casually, right? My hand moved on its own.”

He awkwardly brushed his palm off.

Hadn’t he gotten scolded just for poking that dimple while helping clean his room before?

To be fair, Woo-joo wasn’t particularly sensitive about physical contact.

Growing up playing sports that required constant contact with others had made him used to it.

That was probably why his hands kept reaching out to Ji-tae without thinking.

“…It’s fine.”

“What?”

“That much is fine….”

His voice was as small as a mosquito’s buzz.

It was so quiet it might not have even been picked up by the mic.

“What exactly counts as ‘that much’?”

Woo-joo stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“If you tell me the range that’s allowed, I’ll keep it in mind. Since we’re talking about it, let’s clarify.”

“What? No, you….”

Ji-tae let out a long sigh and pressed his forehead.

“For smoother filming in the future, it’s better to know.”

“What are you even saying. Why is that necessary?”

“Think about it. It’s a habit for me, so I might do it again. If you tell me what’s acceptable, then you won’t feel bad when I touch you.”

Ji-tae’s mouth fell open at the absurd logic.

He didn’t even seem aware that he had just declared he would keep touching him regardless.

“So patting your head is okay. What else?”

“Stop being weirdly studious about this.”

Ji-tae ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

If he were honest, he wanted to say everything was fine.

Touch him however he liked.

But he knew those feelings had to stay buried deep inside.

“Kang Woo-joo, if you’d used this passion to study, you could’ve gotten a top grade and gone to Hanguk University.”

“Why are you suddenly attacking my grades? You weren’t exactly a genius either.”

“That’s not true. I was better than you.”

“Yeah right. Is a 6th-grade ranking considered good?”

“Hey, our school had a lot of smart kids. It couldn’t be helped. And in mock exams, Kang Woo-joo, I scored higher than you.”

They had apologized just one minute ago.

“Don’t distort history.”

“It’s not distortion. It’s fact. You got that infamous 9th grade rank and cried after your mom scolded you.”

That memory was etched clearly in Woo-joo’s mind.

First-year high school mock exam.

His parents had said even if he played sports, he should at least maintain decent grades.

He had tried desperately, yet he got a 9.

After being scolded harshly by his mother, he had run out like a typical adolescent and cried at the playground.

He had checked thoroughly to make sure no one was there before crying.

Had Ji-tae really seen all of that?

“Hey, how do you even—”

Woo-joo’s ears flushed with embarrassment.

Ji-tae grinned triumphantly.

“And you skipped practice multiple times because of summer remedial classes. I never got assigned to remedial.”

Woo-joo emphasized the word “remedial” dramatically.

Ji-tae’s eyebrows twitched.

The spark between them reignited instantly.

If not for the cameraman and writer, who had been waiting outside because they were supposed to go grocery shopping, they would have continued arguing endlessly right there.

“We need to fight less.”

Woo-joo spoke seriously inside the car.

Ji-tae was focused on driving, eyes on the navigation.

About thirty minutes remained to their destination.

“You don’t want only our fights airing on broadcast either.”

Today was the day they were fulfilling their mission of sharing each other’s hobbies twice a week.

They were heading out for a drive nearby.

Ji-tae had casually mentioned liking drives before when he wanted to take Woo-joo somewhere.

Woo-joo had remembered that perfectly.

Ji-tae didn’t particularly love outdoor activities, but he had no choice.

He needed to keep his word and also create footage for the show.

Their destination was a campsite less than an hour from the filming house.

They had discussed it with the staff beforehand, and the production team had prepared camping equipment in advance.

Naturally, the location and activity were decided.

“Are you listening?”

“Yeah.”

Since they needed space for gear, they had decided to take Woo-joo’s larger car.

But Ji-tae had insisted on driving.

Woo-joo had questioned why Ji-tae was driving his car, but Ji-tae ignored him and sat in the driver’s seat.

Woo-joo had trained late the night before.

Ji-tae didn’t want him to drive while tired.