Dirty Switch

Bracing himself and reassuring his trembling self, Joo Taehyun slowly lifted his head. He could only hope that his expression was as indifferent as his body, which no longer reacted to the other’s pheromones. “I want to stop.” Seo Baekhan usually wore hanbok instead of coats. Sometimes it was a durumagi, sometimes a cheollik, and today, like now, it was a dopo. It had been the same when they first met. Back then, Seo Baekhan had casually draped the robe over his jacket, and Joo Taehyun had found it fascinating. Even though he was seven years older, it wasn’t as if he was that old, yet the traditional attire suited him so well. The unusual sight had inevitably drawn Joo Taehyun’s gaze again and again, and by the time he realized it, his heart was already completely stolen. But now, it was truly over. Lingering over moments the other wouldn’t even remember, wallowing in loneliness all by himself. Assigning unnecessary significance to something as simple as natural breathing. All of it. “…Hyung, I want a divorce.”