Page 157 of Scarbound

Noeul brought his face closer to his. Duri’s heart pounded.

For one dangerous second, Duri forgot how much Noeul had drunk.

Then he remembered.

He steadied him by the arms and put a little distance between them.

Noeul noticed immediately. The playfulness disappeared from his face, a wave of anxiety poisoning the moment as his mind turned against itself.

“You don’t want me at your place?”

Duri frowned.

Noeul lowered his gaze. “Do you think I’m dirty too?”

The words erased every trace of desire from Duri’s thoughts.

“Hyung.” Duri tightened his hold and turned Noeul to face him fully. “How can you say something like that?”

Noeul said nothing.

“Come on,” Duri said more gently. “I’ll take you to my place.”

The walk to Duri’s car was difficult. Noeul stumbled every few steps, mumbling nonsense, while Duri kept an arm around him to stop him from falling. By the time they reached the apartment building, Noeul had become unusually quiet.

Duri fumbled with his keys before finally unlocking the door. Noeul looked around as he stepped inside, taking in the neatly arranged vinyl records, the soft glow of a single floor lamp, and the collection of synthesizers, drum kits, and guitars. He didn’t miss the expensive gaming setup across from the couch either.

He smiled, slightly surprised. Somehow, he hadn’t imagined Duri’s place would be so luxurious, and yet so… welcoming.

“It’s nice. Truly,” he said softly.

Their eyes met. Duri held his gaze for a moment, long enough for Noeul to become aware of how close they were standing. Noeul dropped his eyes, warmth creeping up his neck.

“I’m glad you approve.” Duri’s voice was gentle, almost teasing, as he carefully guided him toward the couch and helped him sit. “Stay here for a bit. I’ll get you some water, painkillers, and something to eat. Did you have anything today?”

Noeul sank into the cushions, his eyes half-closed. “I was anxious. I met Kija today. I wanted to ask him for advice about Ji-Woo’s portfolio.”

Duri paused for the briefest moment at Kija’s name but said nothing.

“Skipping meals has become a habit,” he said instead. “You need to take better care of yourself, hyung.”

He watched him for a moment. The sadness was still there. Duri could see it even through the alcohol, clinging to Noeul in a way that made his chest ache. Something had happened during that meeting with the artist. Something more than Noeul was willing to tell him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Not tonight.”

Noeul slipped off his jacket and dropped it beside him, leaving only the shirt underneath. Duri’s gaze lingered a moment longer than it should have.

Then he looked away.

Duri returned with a glass of water and two painkillers, placing a soft pretzel on the table in front of him. He sat beside him, so close their knees brushed. The contact was brief, accidental, but it lingered in Noeul’s mind, charging the air between them.

Duri tilted his head slightly, studying him. It felt strange seeing Noeul here, in his own space, surrounded by things that belonged entirely to him.

“So…” Duri asked quietly. “What do you think? I mean… the place.”

“It’s wonderful. Really.” Noeul set the glass down and turned toward him. This time, their knees pressed fully together. “It feels like… you,” he murmured, so softly it was almost inaudible.