No Moral

eady cold drink.

The transparent window reflected the two men’s images.
Yoonshin was in a neat suit while Sehun was in a thick cable-knit sweater—they contrasted each other.
Another silence flowed between them before Yoonshin once again interrupted it.
“You dressed so thinly for it being winter.
You should have put on a coat.”

“Why should I when I’m in my neighborhood?”

“It would be nice if I just—bam!—took off my jacket for you all coolly.”

“That’s nice.
Strip.”

“I didn’t bring a coat because I came by car, so I’m cold.”

“There it is—your superficial respect for me.”

“Is it that obvious?”

Sehun scoffed, and Yoonshin smiled along.
Then, the younger man asked, “What were you doing?”

“Work.”

“At home? Today’s an off-day.”

“I work in my car, I work in my dreams, and naturally, I work at home.”

“Since you’re sitting here having coffee with me, that means you made time for me.”

Instead of denying it, the older man spun the facts slightly.
“I’m doing pro bono work of sorts.”

“Can’t you be a bit more sincere about my matter then? Why aren’t you asking about the details? I met with a prospective marriage partner.”

“I’m not curious about a story with a defined ending.
You said so yourself that unless there is some unforeseen event, you’d just go with the flow until marriage.
I’m not interested in a rally where I can’t shift your paradigm.”

“Strictly speaking, you’re just afraid to cause the shift, or you’re just not interested enough to put up with the hassle,” Yoonshin retorted.

Sehun turned his head at that.
He made such an irritated face, as if all his nerves were inflamed, and glowered at Yoonshin.
Despite the glare, Yoonshin had no reason not to look back, so he locked eyes with the older man.
The other’s pupils, deep as the bottom of the ocean, were filled with Yoonshin.