The restaurant Joo-won chose was near his university, on the second floor of an old building. He was waiting outside when Yo-han arrived, dressed in a dark hoodie and padded jacket, with a veterinary textbook tucked under one arm.

Yo-han stopped in front of him. "You came straight from class?"

Joo-won looked over the suit and tie. "And you came straight from work."

"This isn't a date. I didn't think I needed to change."

"Good. Neither did I."

They went inside before the conversation could turn into something more.

The restaurant was warm and crowded, filled mostly with students sharing grilled meat and cheap drinks. Joo-won led Yo-han to a table near the back, placed his book against the wall, and ordered without spending much time on the menu. Pork, rice, stew, dumplings, cold noodles. Enough food that Yo-han wondered whether Joo-won had eaten at all that day.

Once the first tray arrived, Joo-won took control of the grill. He arranged the meat across the hot surface and watched it cook while Yo-han poured water for both of them.

For a few minutes, they did not talk. Yo-han had expected the silence to feel awkward now that they were both sober and sitting across from each other with nowhere else to look. 

Instead, Joo-won appeared comfortable letting the sounds of the restaurant fill the silence.

Yo-han waited until the server had walked away. "About yesterday," he said. "I remember trying to get into my car and I know what could've happened if you hadn't."

Joo-won kept the tongs over the grill but stopped turning the meat. "You probably would've hit one of the parked cars before you even made it out of the parking garage. "

"There isn't an excuse for it," Yo-han continued. "I was drunk, but I was still the one who decided to drive. I could've hurt someone."

Joo-won placed the tongs beside the plate. "Yeah, someone who had nothing to do with your problems."

Yo-han did not ask him to downplay what had happened. He had spent the morning thinking about the parking garage, the keys in his hand, and how easily the night could have ended somewhere other than his bedroom. "It won't happen again," he said.

The conversation ended there. Joo-won did not tell him everything was fine, and Yo-han did not repeat the apology and make it meaningless.

They began eating. Joo-won had clearly been hungry, though he made no complaint about it. He finished most of his rice before Yo-han had eaten much and filled both their bowls with stew as naturally as though they had eaten together before.

Yo-han noticed the colored notes sticking out from the textbook beside him. "Exams?"

"Two next week. I've been studying between classes and shifts."

"Isn't it hard juggling that much?"

"I'm good at managing my time," Joo-won said. "Besides, I like exams. If one falls on a clinic day, they give me the day off, and I can go out that night."

Joo-won returned to the grill, moving the cooked meat aside before adding more. He wasn't looking for praise. This was simply how he lived, with every available hour assigned to school, the clinic, the bar, or sleep.

Yo-han picked up one of the dumplings. "You missed your clinic shift because of me. I'm sorry."

"I chose to stay." Joo-won placed more meat on Yo-han's plate. "What you did was your responsibility. Staying was mine."

Yo-han had no answer ready for that. He ate instead, thinking about how full he felt at this strange table and how hungry he had been at his family's. 

Joo-won had not excused what happened, nor had he turned his own choice into a debt Yo-han could never repay. He had drawn a line between them and left each man on the right side of it.

"How old are you?" Yo-han asked.

"Twenty-one."

"What?"

Joo-won looked at him and laughed. "What? Do I look that old?"

"No. Your attitude..."

By the time the cold noodles arrived, the tension from the beginning of the meal had eased. They talked a little about Joo-won's classes and the Tokyo presentation, but neither of them tried to turn dinner into an exchange of personal histories. Joo-won did not mention anything he had seen in the apartment, and Yo-han did not ask about Joo-won's parents.

They ate until the plates were nearly empty.

When the bill came, Joo-won checked the items before handing it over.

"I'm paying, Joo-won-ssi," Yo-han said.

"That doesn't mean you should pay for something we didn't order."

Yo-han took the bill and went to the counter.

—

Outside, it had gotten even colder. Students kept passing them on their way to the subway while Joo-won stood there with his textbook against his chest and his hood pulled up.

Yo-han took out his phone. "Thanks for tonight. I'll get you a taxi. I'm paying."

Joo-won stayed by the curb. "I'm not going home."

Yo-han lowered his phone and looked at him. Whatever chemical or biological reaction was happening inside his body right then, he was pretty sure he had never felt anything like it before.

"Where do you wanna go?" he asked, trying his absolute best to sound normal.

Joo-won didn't answer. He just looked him straight in the eyes and waited.

Yo-han put his phone away. "The car's this way." He took Joo-won's hand and pulled him closer before leading him toward the parking lot. "Pull your hood up properly. I don't wanna have to let go of your hand."