The Taste of Lies Chapter 12

After venting his anger, Sangtae hunched his shoulders. He was clearly trying to hold back the vomit even as his throat heaved. He was watching Youngmin’s reactions. Like a cat that scratches a hand and then, startled, quickly runs away.

Rubbing his tired eyes with his fingers, Youngmin thought. What would I have wanted to hear in a situation like this?

“My face looks like this because I just woke up. And it’s been a really long time since I woke up in the middle of sleep. I think you’re a handful, sure, but I’m not angry because of that.”

“A handful?”

“Kids your age are always a handful. I was too. So I don’t care if you throw a tantrum.”

“Are you Buddha? Or is it love for humanity? If it’s not pity, then do you actually want to sleep with me?”

“No! …It’s not that.”

Youngmin denied it strongly. It wasn’t a lie that he had brought Sangtae out of a sense of duty. But it wasn’t the complete truth, either.

“I had no choice but to bring you.”

“Just because? Is it really just because? For no reason at all?”

“Because you’re like me. Because you reminded me of my old self. I had no choice but to bring you.”

“Old…?”

Sangtae narrowed his eyes. He seemed unable to believe that Youngmin had ever had a childhood.

“I had a rough time growing up. I wandered a lot too. I wished there had been an adult to hold onto me. But there wasn’t anyone.”

“Rough?”

Long, deep-set eyes with an air of refinement looked at Sangtae. Judging by his household, he was certainly not rich, but Youngmin had… yes, the image of a ‘eldest son’ who had been raised properly by good parents and turned out well. Even when eating samgyeopsal wrapped in lettuce, his mouth was neat. Unlike himself, who devoured food messily with grains of rice stuck to his mouth and nose.

“You’re lying…”

“You know, my biological mother is the mistress of the police chief here.”

But the next words were shocking. Sangtae forgot to argue and pressed his lips into a straight line.

“If you can call the person who had an unwanted child and abandoned it to relatives right after birth ‘mother,’ that is. My parents on paper are my maternal uncle and aunt, who are fifth-degree relatives by blood. I lived without ever looking at Gangwon Province, but by chance my registered domicile was here, so I ended up coming.”

Patting Sangtae’s back, Youngmin confessed the truth. Sangtae immediately understood the meaning of “because you’re like me.” Youngmin fell silent after those words, but what was omitted afterward was an admission that he too had experienced being abandoned in life.

Of course, it wasn’t exactly the same.

Sangtae had been abandoned in the middle of his life. At an age old enough to understand the dynamics of relationships, it hurt him all the more.

“Hurrk!”

“Throw it up.”

His stomach lurched violently.

A large mass surged up from his chest, pressing as if to tear his esophagus, and burst out of his mouth. Splash—the sound of water in the toilet bowl echoed unusually loud.

“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Though it had been a tiring day, Youngmin didn’t grimace as he stroked Sangtae’s back. His thick hands were delicate and gentle. Feeling as if he had vomited something larger than a fist, Sangtae gasped for air. His stomach felt much lighter.

“Wash up and come out. I’ll make you some barley tea.”

Just before his large hand withdrew, he lightly kneaded Sangtae’s nape. As Sangtae hesitated, reluctant to let go of the fading warmth, a soft towel settled over his shoulders. His goosebumped skin trembled.

Water sounded from the kitchen. Youngmin, having tossed him the towel and left, seemed to be washing his hands at the kitchen sink.

Sangtae buried his face in the towel.

It smelled of sunlight.

Would he ever smell like that someday? He hugged the towel tightly.

After finishing his shower, Sangtae looked for the shirt he had hung on the towel rack, but his hand only swept through empty air.

“When did you come in?”

He stuck his head out the door, blushing for no reason. Folded neatly beneath the bathroom light switch was a set of clothes. Just as he was about to grab them and retreat back into the bathroom, Youngmin’s voice came through.

“Wear them comfortably. No need for formality between men, right?”

Youngmin was standing at the counter, washing rice. Sangtae pouted and glared at the back of his head, which was still a messy bird’s nest, then stomped back into the room.

The track pants, apparently lent from his own clothes, had a waist that was too big. Even after tightening the elastic, they were loose, so Sangtae clutched the waistband and came out to the kitchen-living room.

White steam rose gently from the mug on the table.

Youngmin picked up the mug placed in front of him and said.

“Drink. It’ll settle your stomach.”

Looking closely, his eyes were bloodshot. The clock on the wall had just passed 3:40 AM. Sangtae sipped the barley tea as Youngmin had told him to.

It was slightly salty, as if salt had been added.

His frozen insides thawed at once, and a long belch escaped. Youngmin quickly turned his head and brought his mug to his lips, but couldn’t hide the snicker that slipped out.

“I don’t like meat.”

To stay at Youngmin’s place, he should be on his best behavior, not going against his mood—so why did complaints keep spilling out? Sangtae didn’t know. Youngmin raised both eyebrows in surprise and responded with “I see.” It was so bland, almost dull, that Sangtae deflated.

“You ate it pretty ravenously for someone who doesn’t like it. Weren’t you saying you wanted beef?”

“When someone offers to buy, you can’t just pick and choose. In my situation, meat is a blessing. I won’t refuse what’s given, but if I were buying for myself, I’d get something else. Same with beef.”

This time, too, he replied, “I see.” And then asked.

“So what do you like?”

Sangtae was momentarily flustered. No one had ever asked him what he liked or disliked before. Others either unilaterally imposed what they thought was best for him, or, when something good came along, were too busy taking it away, so much so that indifference was welcome. The words didn’t come easily. In a casual tone, Youngmin continued.

“I’m giving you a place to lie down now. When you can stretch out, stretch your limbs as much as you want.”

“…I like fish. White-fleshed fish. Boiled potatoes too.”

“I see. And?”

“I can’t eat kimchi well. It’s too spicy. …I have to wash it before eating. I can’t eat garlic well either.”

Encouraged to speak freely, Sangtae confessed secrets he had never told anyone. His grandmother used to wash the kimchi white for him to eat, all the while criticizing him for not being a worthy citizen of the Republic of Korea. He could eat unwashed kimchi and garlic, and he could force himself to swallow them, but that didn’t make the discomfort disappear.

“I put garlic and kimchi in the wrap… That must have been hard. I’m sorry. I’ll keep that in mind from now on.”

But Youngmin didn’t criticize. He simply accepted Sangtae’s confession as if accepting the equation that 1 plus 1 equals 2.

Taking the opportunity, Sangtae added one more thing.

“The room is too hot. I can’t sleep.”

“I feel the same way.”

Youngmin immediately got up. He turned down the boiler temperature and opened the window. Cold air swept through the entire house.

“From now on, let’s adjust things one by one. Since we’re living together.”

“Yeah, since we’re living together.”

At the word “together,” Sangtae’s heart trembled. He nodded and drank the barley tea. The slightly cooled tea paradoxically tasted sweet.

∞ ∞ ∞

It had been a month and a half since the two had been together. It was both a short and long time, and many things had happened. They were just two people living in one house in a relationship of protector and protected, yet the incidents and accidents that occurred were more numerous than at a small police station, and each day passed in a blur.

Youngmin leaned against the bathroom doorframe and watched Sangtae. Sangtae was in the middle of brushing his teeth, and Youngmin’s gaze was fixed on the back of his head.

How should I cut that hair?

The brown hair that had grown long to his shoulders had been Youngmin’s biggest dilemma for the past few days.

The reason Sangtae was ostracized in Mukhyeon was because of his striking appearance. In particular, his blue eyes, which revealed that his father was not from this land. Thinking about that, Youngmin could understand why Sangtae kept his hair long. Of course, he probably hadn’t had the money to get it cut either.

In Youngmin’s view, Sangtae’s long hair was a mark. Most people in Mukhyeon knew the color of his eyes, and in that situation, hiding them only symbolized that he too considered them a weakness.