Seojun did not say anything when they got into the cab. He just watched the side of Yeonjun's face. Shadows and streetlights passed over the architecture student's features, and a quiet thought took shape in his mind.

If I asked him to come home with me, would he?

Yeonjun rested his head against the window. His breath left faint marks on the glass. He kept his eyes open and tracked the neon signs outside. The silence in the taxi felt easy. It stayed between them, and neither of them tried to break it.

The cab rolled past late-night convenience stores, closed clinics, and old hanoks¹ that sat between newer buildings. A bus stop light flashed on and off. A delivery bike sped down the empty road.

Neither of them spoke while the driver pulled over outside a small alleyway. A single streetlamp lit the narrow path, and it was only a short walk from Seojun's neighborhood. One of the last bars in the area still had a glowing sign, but the inside was pitch dark.

Yeonjun tilted his head and stared at the dark windows.

"Is this the place?" he asked.

Seojun stepped closer to the door. He leaned in and read the handwritten sign that was taped to the inside of the glass.

WE ARE CLOSED TODAY FOR A FAMILY OCCASION

THANK YOU FOR YOUR KIND UNDERSTANDING

"Tch… today of all days," Seojun said. He turned around. Yeonjun stood just behind him and kept his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Ya… Can I invite you to my place instead?"

"I don't wanna be a bother," Yeonjun said.

"You wouldn't be. My parents aren't home tonight, and they won't be back until tomorrow."

Yeonjun looked at the dark bar, and then he looked back at his companion. He did not want to go back to the hotel at all. If Seojun had asked to just stay out on the street, he would have agreed. 

The quiet between them felt easy, and they did not need to explain anything.

"Okay then," Yeonjun said.

They turned around and began walking toward Seojun's place. The streets were calm and a bit dark. Neon signs glowed softly in the distance. A cat darted across the road. A pojangmacha² down the street was closing up for the night, and its metal shutters slammed down loudly.

They did not hurry. They walked down the street together, and their footsteps echoed along the pavement. The streetlights stretched their shadows ahead.

Yeonjun broke the silence first.

"It must be nice being able to stay home alone like that."

"You can't be alone?" Seojun asked.

"I can't." Yeonjun said. "Even this past week at the hotel… I almost went crazy every night before falling asleep."

Then he laughed a little. He rubbed the back of his neck, but his tone stayed serious.

Seojun looked over at him.

"Your family must be from out of town, huh?"

"No… My dad actually lives in Jongno-gu." Yeonjun paused for a second before he continued. "I used to live with my girlfriend. We broke up, so now I'm staying at a hotel because I don't really wanna go back to my dad's place."

Seojun raised his eyebrows. "Ah." But he did not push for more details. The sudden openness surprised him.

"You're more open than usual," he said. He waited a moment and then asked, "Are you drunk right now?"

Yeonjun chuckled.

"Just a little. I'm okay." He looked back at him. "Are you?"

"I'm fine," Seojun said. "Not too much." Then he paused, and his expression dropped slightly.

"Actually… I used to hate not being able to be alone. Up until university, there was always someone around me. Always. I didn't even know what silence felt like."

His voice dropped low. He sounded completely drained when he talked about the past.

Yeonjun looked at him for a moment, and then he faced forward again.

"That's… interesting," Yeonjun said.

They stayed close as they kept walking but there was a comfortable space between them, and neither of them tried to rush the pace.

—

The streets were mostly empty, and old street lamps cast scattered pools of light on the ground. A few early cherry buds had started to bloom on the branches.

The night air was getting colder.

Yeonjun crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed his elbows. His expensive but thin shirt was not enough for the chill that settled in after midnight.

Seojun noticed it right away. "You cold?" he asked.

Yeonjun stopped rubbing his arms. "Just a little chill, that's all," he said.

Before he could say anything else, Seojun was already taking off his coat. It was a long, light trench made of soft fabric.

"Here," Seojun said.

He stepped in close and draped the coat over Yeonjun's shoulders. He pulled it into place, straightened the collar, and smoothed the front. He made sure the fabric wrapped around him fully. While he adjusted the neckline, his fingers touched against the side of Yeonjun's neck. The skin was warm. Seojun moved his hands slowly and carefully. He kept them there for an extra second before pulling back. He did not rush the movement.

Third time I've touched you tonight, he thought. It still did not feel like enough.

"There's not much distance left, but I don't want you catching cold," Seojun said as he stood up straight.

Yeonjun opened his eyes a little wider.

"You didn't have to…" he said.

Seojun looked straight into his eyes.

"No. I did."

Neither of them moved for a brief moment, then Seojun turned his head and looked ahead.

"Let's go," he said.

Yeonjun stayed still for a second longer. He felt the remaining body heat inside the coat, and he pulled the collar a little closer to his neck. He could not remember the last time someone had paid that much attention to his comfort. 

He slipped his arms into the sleeves and followed his new companion down the quiet street. 

They both seemed at peace until a loud ringtone broke the silence. 

Seojun pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. His expression dropped and his shoulders lost their relaxed slope. 

—

¹ hanok (한옥) refers to a traditional Korean house characterized by natural materials (like wood, stone, and clay), curved tiled roofs, and a layout that reflects harmony with nature. Hanoks often include features like ondol (underfloor heating) and a maru (wooden veranda), and are designed according to Confucian principles and seasonal airflow. They are iconic symbols of Korean architectural heritage. 

² pojangmacha (포장마차) refers to a small, tented street stall or cart in Korea that typically sells affordable street food, snacks, and alcoholic drinks like soju or beer. These stalls are often seen at night and offer a cozy, casual atmosphere where people gather to eat, drink, and unwind. The word literally means "covered wagon", and pojangmachas are considered a nostalgic part of Korean urban nightlife culture.