The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low

Chapter 169

Uijae froze in place, still holding the gas mask. He had only meant to tease Sa-young a little, but this reaction was entirely unexpected.

Was this really something to be so embarrassed about? Or was Sa-young even embarrassed at all? For some reason, Uijae’s fingers tingled, and he instinctively flinched.

“….”

Sa-young breathed heavily for a moment before snatching the gas mask away. Just as his flushed face was about to disappear behind the mask again, Uijae hurriedly grabbed his hand. Gritting his teeth, Sa-young spoke in a low voice.

“Let go.”

“Wait, hold still for a second.”

“Get your hand off me.”

“Why are you putting it back on?”

“What does it matter? I… want to wear it.”

Underneath his coat, Sa-young’s chest rose and fell rapidly. His frustration boiled over, and his face, now partially hidden behind the gas mask, turned even redder.

The man standing before him was nothing like the younger Sa-young from the screen. His sharp cheekbones, defined jawline, and deep-set eyes were unmistakably those of a grown man.

Meanwhile, on the screen, the interview between the young Sa-young and the reporters continued.

—Are you announcing that you plan to establish your own independent force?

—Yes.

—Why didn’t you choose the Samra Guild?

—Just because.

—Do you have any special determination for the future?

—Do I need something like that?

A collective gasp rose from the reporters. Uijae couldn’t help but let out a small, “Oh,” in surprise. His grip on the gas mask tightened as Sa-young muttered a low curse.

“Damn it….”

“…Heh.”

“Is this really entertaining to you?”

“…Not really?”

“I don’t get it, seriously.”

Sa-young’s voice was sharp. The young Sa-young on the screen continued to make increasingly brazen statements. His confidence and lack of respect were almost unbelievable for someone so young.

Uijae stopped bickering with Sa-young and became mesmerized by the screen. It was impossible not to be, as Sa-young had a knack for drawing people’s attention—whether in a good or bad way.

—Sigh….

He rested his elbow on the podium, propping his chin on his hand, blatantly sighing for everyone to hear. It was almost amusing how each of his actions, no matter how rude, seemed to look like scenes from a movie.

Was it because of his neatly combed hair? The perfectly tailored suit? Or maybe it was his long lashes, sleepy violet eyes, or those slightly parted, plump lips….

‘Wait, why am I staring so intently?’

Uijae snapped back to reality, realizing something strange.

From the time Sa-young had been lying in bandages until now, he had been consistently rude! Surely others must know this about him as well—his real personality.

Unable to hold back any longer, Uijae asked the question that had been nagging him.

“Did you ever get in trouble for your attitude?”

Sa-young’s grip on the gas mask loosened. Uijae took the opportunity to snatch it and toss it into the corner of the room. Sa-young didn’t even get mad; he just stared at him, incredulous. His face was still flushed, though.

“…Really, is *that* what you're curious about right now?”

“I mean… doesn’t behavior like that usually get criticized? Were you okay?”

“What’s *your* problem?”

“I’m curious.”

“Drop that damned curiosity.”

“You’re dropping formal speech again.”

“Ugh, that damn formal speech.”

Sa-young gritted his teeth, and Uijae heard the familiar sound of his knuckles cracking. Judging by his stubborn expression and tense posture, Sa-young seemed ready to crawl over and retrieve the gas mask if he had to. Uijae decided to change the subject.

“Didn’t you wear the gas mask back then?”

“….”

“Come on, you can answer that, right?”

“…I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“They thought it’d be better not to use it when I was first stepping out.”

That made sense. First impressions matter a lot. The gas mask, while striking, isn’t exactly something that makes people feel comfortable. If he had shown up wearing that back then, people probably would have thought he was crazy—much like Uijae did when he first encountered Sa-young in the alleyway.

“You made the right call.”

“….”

Uijae glanced at the screen. The young Sa-young, straddling the line between boyhood and adulthood, continued answering questions with an air of indifference. Although he wasn’t being particularly sincere, he did seem to be making an effort to respond.

It would have been fun to witness that in person.

“I wish I could have seen that for myself.”

Maybe it was inevitable, but Uijae’s voice carried a sense of regret. Perhaps, deep down, Uijae wanted to witness the hardships that Sa-young endured while Uijae was lost in the West Sea Rift.

He was curious. What had happened to him? What had he experienced? What had been going through his mind? Uijae wanted to know everything, not just these fragmented glimpses.

“It’s a shame….”

For some reason, it really felt like a loss. That he wasn’t there for Sa-young’s journey.

Maybe that’s why he loosened his grip on Sa-young’s hands, allowing him to act freely again.

“Huh?”

Suddenly, Uijae felt a strong grip on his arm, and before he knew it, his world spun around. He instinctively relaxed his body, prepared to fall, but he didn’t have to. A large hand was already supporting the back of his neck.

That hand gently lowered his head onto the soft beanbag. In the blink of an eye, Uijae found himself lying back with Sa-young on top of him. He felt the weight of Sa-young’s body pressing down on him. Uijae blinked in surprise. Sa-young’s shadowed face was still flushed.

“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden…?”

Instead of answering, Sa-young reached for the remote and turned off the projector. Beep. The light gradually faded, and Sa-young’s red face disappeared into the darkness. The room was plunged into complete blackness.

“….”

The sound of soft breathing grew closer. The rustling of Sa-young’s coat and the swishing of fabric filled the silence. Sa-young’s hand settled on Uijae’s stomach. Reflexively, Uijae tensed his muscles.

Sa-young’s hand pressed down on his abdomen before moving up to unbutton Uijae’s suit jacket. Then, his hand reached for the knot of Uijae’s tie.

His fingers slid into the knot, loosening it. Uijae’s hands instinctively gripped the beanbag above his head. The fabric crinkled under his fingers.

“Sa-young….”

“…Stay still.”

Swoosh. The tie slipped free, brushing against Uijae’s throat in a teasing, ticklish way. What is he doing? Before Uijae could regain his composure, gloved fingers trailed along the collar of his shirt. Then they began undoing the buttons, one by one.

By the time the top two buttons were undone, Uijae finally snapped out of his daze and grabbed Sa-young’s hand.

“Hey, why are you unbuttoning my shirt? What’s gotten into you?”

“I told you to stay still….”

Sa-young muttered irritably. Who’s the one supposed to be annoyed right now? Uijae thought, baffled.

Then, all of a sudden, Uijae felt a warm sensation, followed by a sharp sting. He froze. Sa-young was biting his fingers, gnawing on them.

‘Are you a dog?’

Uijae swallowed back the words rising in his throat. In fairness, Uijae had bitten Sa-young’s fingers once before, so he couldn’t really complain.

But then, a soft, wet sensation grazed his fingers, and Uijae nearly jumped. Sa-young was licking his fingers now. His joints bent involuntarily as Sa-young’s tongue slid over them. Uijae stammered.

“W-why are you doing this?”

One day, Uijae would have to dissect Sa-young’s brain to understand how it worked. Right now, he had no clue. Each time Sa-young’s tongue flicked over his fingers, Uijae’s body twitched involuntarily. After one last strong bite, Sa-young finally let go of his hand. Uijae hastily withdrew his fingers.

“Turn the projector back on.”

“…You really are something else.”

Sa-young’s face loomed closer. Uijae was about to push himself up, but he stopped.

Sa-young’s lips pressed down on the black mask, right over the area where Uijae’s mouth was.

His lips gradually moved downward until they hovered over Uijae’s mouth. Uijae held his breath. He couldn’t feel the touch through the mask, but he knew that Sa-young was kissing him.

“You talk too much….”

“…….”

A gloved hand slipped between Uijae’s chin and the mask, nudging it upward. The mask, offering no resistance, shifted slightly. Black fingers gently caressed the bare skin of Uijae’s chin and lips. Sa-young’s voice, softer than before, asked:

“Do you remember that time? When you lifted the mask just a little and let me touch your face?”

Uijae swallowed hard, unable to answer. Sa-young’s thumb pressed against his lower lip.

“That night, I couldn’t sleep. You have no idea how badly I wanted to see the face under that mask….”

The hand touching his face now was nothing like the one from back then.

“I….”

The mask, which had been lifted slightly, was now completely removed. Clatter. The sound of it falling to the floor was unmistakable.

“I like us, because we’re special.”

That hand was much larger and stronger than the one in Uijae’s memories, but above all….

“We’re better than any other version of Cha Uijae and Lee Sa-young.”

It was gentle.

If the time apart had brought them to this moment, if their losses had shaped them into who they were now, then the warmth of Sa-young’s lips, washing over Uijae like a wave, was something Uijae welcomed with his whole heart.