Extra 19

The quick, uneven breaths and the devastated expression he failed to hide made it painfully clear just how shaken Go Igyeol was. His mind—still not fully recovered—was swallowed by a fear that everything might repeat itself, swelling like a snowball until he could no longer think straight.

“Igyeol-ssi.”

“I—I swear, this time I really… I wasn’t trying to hide anything. I wasn’t—truly, I wasn’t.”

Letting go of the hand he had been clinging to, Igyeol wiped his face roughly with trembling fingers, stumbling backward as if burned. Uncontrolled pheromones spilled out of him. His arms pressed around his lower belly, his hand over his mouth trembling as violently as an aspen leaf.

“Igyeol.”

“Then why—why… hic… the baby, the baby is Seo Dohyeon-ssi’s baby. It’s real. It’s real, I swear—!”

“Of course…! If you were pregnant, of course it would be our child. Of course it would be mine. Of course….”

His tear-filled eyes slowly lifted toward Dohyeon. One look at those soft, water-blurred eyes, and the question—Did you want a child?—wouldn’t come out.

What am I supposed to do with you? What am I supposed to do with myself? With us…?

Feeling utterly at a loss, Dohyeon pulled him tightly into his arms.

“…Dohyeon-ssi.”

“If there’s something you want—whatever it is… anything at all—I can give it to you. I’ll give you anything.”

“……”

“But… a child is impossible, Igyeol. A child… we can’t.”

The doctor’s words echoed sharply in his mind: even if conception occurred, the pregnancy would not hold. Even at the time of birth, they had warned it would be difficult for him ever to conceive again. The thought of Igyeol risking his body for another child horrified him. And the idea of him being hurt because of an unwanted pregnancy was unbearable.

“…So I’m… not pregnant?”

“……”

“Then why… why am I like this…?”

So I’m not pregnant?

Igyeol pushed against Dohyeon’s chest, lifting his head. As he blinked at the pain twisting Dohyeon’s expression, tears that had pooled spilled down the corner of his eyes.

“If I’m not pregnant… then why…?”

Confirming that the vague, half-imagined child did not exist, Igyeol stared emptily at the air. A tangled surge of emotion—neither clearly sorrow nor relief—began to thrash within him. Hic, hff… stifled sobs seeped through clenched teeth.

“Someone like me… being allowed to live with you again sometimes feels so unreal I wonder if I’m dreaming. And you… want to have my child?”

His dark eyes glittered as if wet. Though he wasn’t crying, the rims reddened as though he might. With trembling fingers, Igyeol cupped Dohyeon’s cheek.

“With everything you’ve suffered… you want my child…?”

“…I just… thought about it. Only thought.”

“……”

“I wondered if… maybe someday… we could be like everyone else. If that day might come for us too.”

Each blink sent another tear rolling down. With a low breath, Dohyeon embraced him again. Even if it were only a passing thought, it hurt—hurt as if something inside him were tearing. But realizing that Igyeol unconsciously longed for a child strongly enough to imagine pregnancy—it was agonizing.

Because he knew that such an ordinary day would never come.

And when Igyeol learned that truth, how deeply would it wound him?

So he had said they wouldn’t have another child because he didn’t want to. He told him he didn’t want it. That one child, the one who already carried his features, was enough—he didn’t want a second.

“I…”

“…hic… hff… ngh…”

“You’re the only one that matters to me, Igyeol-ssi. Only you. As long as I have you, that’s all I need. So—there won’t ever be a second. Even if it sounds selfish, even if you wanted it… I can’t. I won’t. Igyeol.”

Pressed against his shoulder, Igyeol let out tiny, suppressed sobs. Even as he whispered apology after apology, Dohyeon repeated firmly that it would never happen. He promised he would do better—for both Ihyeon and for Igyeol—so please, please don’t think about such things. He pleaded again and again.

After that day, the distance between them was strangely close yet distant. They shared the same bed, fell asleep and woke side by side, but a faint awkwardness lingered. Dohyeon acted as usual, except whenever an intimate mood arose—he would brush it off jokingly or avoid it entirely.

Igyeol knew this couldn’t continue. They hadn’t been able to talk properly that day because emotions were too raw, but after several days of collecting himself, he resolved that tonight—no matter what—they would talk honestly.

So on his way home, he stopped at a convenience store to buy beer. He placed ten cans on the counter, hesitated, then grabbed two more. He also picked up several cups of famously spicy instant noodles, crab sticks, sausages, and multiple snacks. The fridge always had fruit, so that would work too.

He prepared everything and waited—waited and waited—for Dohyeon to come home.

At exactly 5:50 p.m., he arrived. Igyeol immediately trailed behind him into the dressing room.

“What about dinner?”

“Not yet. I waited so we could eat together.”

“How’s your stomach?”

Even though his symptoms had eased, Igyeol still suffered occasional waves of nausea. Some days his mind was clear all day; other days, he felt dull and sluggish from morning to night. But curiously, the constant daytime sleepiness had vanished entirely.

“I’m fine. I ate lunch well today.”

“Good.”

Dohyeon stroked his cheek affectionately, undressing piece by piece. When their eyes met, he would occasionally walk over to press a light kiss to Igyeol’s lips as if unable to restrain himself.

They ate an early dinner together and spent time with Ihyeon. Dohyeon expertly held the growing baby as he practiced speaking—no longer babbling, but producing half-formed, indecipherable words. Sometimes he joked that maybe the child was a genius.

“We should change the furniture.”

“……”

“Igyeol-ssi.”

“…Yes? Ah, what did you say?”

Lost in thought about how to begin their conversation, Igyeol flinched in surprise when he heard his name.

“I said we should change the furniture. Ihyeon is starting to pull himself up on the table and crawl everywhere—so it’s better to get things with rounder edges. Did something happen? Is there something I should know but don’t?”

“…Ah… no? Nothing happened.”

“Really?”

“Yes, of course. What… would’ve happened? But it’s… almost time for Ihyeon to sleep.”

Dohyeon glanced at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t even 7 p.m. yet. Putting Ihyeon to bed this early and passing him to Kwon Seunggyu seemed odd. Is nothing really wrong?

Holding Ihyeon—who waved “bye-bye” from Seunggyu’s shoulder—Dohyeon watched the round backs of the two as they left, deep in thought.

Had something happened?

Had the grandfather shown up again?

Or someone else?

The young classmate with overlapping lectures—had he said something to unsettle Igyeol…?

Just as that thought passed, Igyeol’s fingertips lightly grasped his shoulder.

“If… if it’s okay… would you like to drink some beer with me?”

“……”

“I bought some on the way home. That… classmate said drinking a cold beer after work tastes amazing. You don’t know what it’s like, right?”

His flustered movements and anxious eyes made even Dohyeon tense. Igyeol rarely drank alcohol at home—if ever—so the request itself was startling.

“I bought everything. Snacks too.”

Dohyeon sat at the dining table, guided there by Igyeol’s small hands, watching him move about in quick little steps as he set things down. When Igyeol placed six large cans of beer on the table, Dohyeon’s eyes widened.

“Ah—wait. I cut some fruit too.”

“Igyeol-ssi.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll take things out. Sit down.”

He gently seated Igyeol and went to the fridge. He pulled out a neatly arranged plate of apples, oranges, and kiwis. Then he asked if Igyeol wanted anything else.

“That’s enough. Sit, hurry.”

As Dohyeon placed the plate on the table and moved to sit across from him, Igyeol grabbed his sleeve.

“Would you… sit next to me? It feels… too far.”

“…All right.”

Abandoning the seat across from him, Dohyeon sat at his side and drew the beer cans closer. Opening one, he placed it in front of Igyeol first, then opened his own.

“Dohyeon-ssi… was anything unusual at work today?”

“Nothing unusual.”

His hand—naturally reaching to touch him—slipped into Igyeol’s soft hair, then down to cradle the back of his neck.

Had something happened?

What was weighing on Igyeol’s mind?

What did he want to say?

That was all Dohyeon thought about.

Igyeol’s ears turned pink. He drank the beer quickly, and soon a faint flush spread across his pale skin.

“Drinking after work with you tastes great.”

“…Wow. Good. Drink a lot. Please. There’s more—there’s more in the fridge.”

Dohyeon remembered the stash he had seen earlier and smiled faintly.

He’s not even good with alcohol—what could he possibly want to talk about so badly?

After Dohyeon finished his first can and opened the second, Igyeol’s eyes sparkled instantly.

Apparently, “drink a lot” had not been an empty invitation.