Hit by a Pitched Ball Chapter 16

This was something he’d never experienced before, and he had no one to ask for advice. A decision made without a firm definition was bound to carry risks. He didn’t know what kind of relationships Taebeom had had, but the type of behavior he was currently showing, by the standards of Yunjae’s own life, clearly fell under “dating” or “talking.”

Did he even have the ability to discern this ambiguity? As he continued mulling it over, Taebeom’s face suddenly came to mind. When he tried to consider Taebeom’s position, a sudden wave of self-disgust hit him.

Was it really because he was a man? He couldn’t think of any other reason why Taebeom could approach him so freely even in this kind of arrangement. Even while thinking that might be the case, arriving at the conclusion that it probably was, he couldn’t help feeling offended.

…Should I just cut this off? His head felt foggy from his own endless chain of conclusions. He felt he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything in this state. Yunjae, staring at his phone with a troubled mind, only broke free from his gloomy thoughts when the screen suddenly changed.

Min Geonho

It was the first call since the gathering Taebeom had attended a week ago. His already low mood plunged even further down to the basement floor.

At the uncomfortable feeling of his throat tightening, Yunjae cleared his throat a couple of times for no reason and picked up the phone.

“Yes, sunbae.”

—Oh. How come you’re answering right away?

“I was looking at my phone. What’s up?”

—No. Just. I said I’d contact you and I’m only doing it now. I was away on a business trip. Sorry, man.

At the sudden apology, Yunjae’s brow furrowed slightly. What was there to be sorry about? He couldn’t quite understand the apology.

—Taebeom said he saw you home safely, so I wasn’t worried, though. Nothing happened, right?

“Ah…”

At the follow-up answer, Yunjae finally realized what he was worried and sorry about. It had been the same when they first met, but recently at the drinking party, Ha Taebeom had clung to him in an unusually persistent way, so Geonho must have been concerned about that too.

There were a few people at that gathering who knew about his sexual orientation. People who remembered that time, which had been the biggest incident since coming out to his parents.

Among them, Geonho was also someone directly connected to a past relationship. Sighing, Yunjae sifted through the fragmented memories of the past. In the end, feeling bitter, Yunjae habitually fiddled with the sweatpants bunched up beside his thigh. Even though it was a soft texture with no irregularities, he couldn’t understand why the tips of his fingers tingled.

He rested his arm holding the phone on the desk and covered half his face with his free hand. His chest felt cold and heavy.

—I was pretty surprised. He’s usually friendly with anyone, but you’re not like that. I was wondering if he might have made you uncomfortable. He can be a bit of a joker. That guy.

“He didn’t. Nothing like that.”

—Ah… Really?

A sigh naturally escaped at the lengthening conversation. Cutting off Geonho, who had been beating around the bush, Yunjae opened his mouth instead.

“Stop beating around the bush and just say it. What is it?”

Since Geonho was always particularly sensitive about his mood, even when he tried not to notice, the sound of those frequent sighs was hard to ignore. He had a hunch, and these kinds of premonitions were never wrong.

—No, I’m just saying this in case you misunderstand. I didn’t say anything to him.

“What do you mean?”

—The way he was all over you. It was probably just a joke. I didn’t tell him… about your side. I didn’t tell anyone.

“Ah…”

Finally barely grasping the context, Yunjae let out a sigh that was almost a groan. The other person seemed quite tense too, as the sound of him swallowing saliva reached Yunjae’s ears. Had he wanted to say something like that because I’m different? But that had become meaningless to Yunjae long ago. As usual, Yunjae turned on the monitor and moved the mouse.

Yunjae rubbed his tired eyes and let out a hollow laugh.

—Yunjae?

“Ah, sorry.”

—Did he say anything weird?

“No. He didn’t. And there’s nothing for sunbae to worry about. Who would easily think something like that?”

Honestly, it was surprising. That Ha Taebeom did it easily. Just thinking of him, his sharply prickled nerves strangely began to settle down gradually. Though he’d practically shaken off his suspicions after meeting a few times, this finally allowed him to clear away even the lingering remnants.

—Okay. Then that’s a relief.

Yunjae was genuinely relieved. At the same time, Geonho’s words made him chuckle. Relief? What exactly was Geonho thinking of when he said “relief”?

“Let’s have a meal together sometime.”

—Oh, yeah. Sure. Let’s do that. Get to work. Pick a day when you have time.

“Okay. Get going.”

The conversation, which had floated around like dust without touching anything substantial, ended bleakly. This time without any lingering attachment, Yunjae put down his phone and checked his emails first.

Two emails requesting revisions. One inquiry about scheduling. After skimming through them, Yunjae opened the inquiry about scheduling first. The autobiography for which a ghostwriting request had come in bore the name of a famous entrepreneur.

He set a date within negotiable limits, sent a reply, and opened the revision requests in order, starting with the earliest. Tsk, Yunjae clicked his tongue without thinking and picked up the glasses sitting in front of the speaker. After wiping the slightly dusty lenses, he put them on loosely, and his gaze fixed on the monitor.

The voice grumbling that setting a fixed day for the weekend was unreasonable briefly brushed past his ear. Since he didn’t particularly need to distinguish Saturday and Sunday as weekends either, he thought it would be fine to accept that much. Since starting pitchers usually go every five or six days, if he thought of it as about once a week, the burden would be small.

When were the away games again? Yunjae scrolled down the program he’d opened and brought up a portal site. “Professional baseball schedule”—a search he did habitually every day, so why did his fingertips keep stumbling?

Yunjae tried to hide his expression, making an effort not to remind himself that this was an act with impure intentions. And so, he began carefully examining the schedule of Taebeom’s team, not the one he supported.

“For this much, I guess…”

Having already tilted his heart to one side, he murmured to himself, feeling immensely embarrassed, and glanced around the empty room. At times like this, he often had the ridiculous and eerie delusion that someone was secretly listening, or that there was a camera somewhere in the corner filming him.

Feeling utterly mortified, Yunjae rested his arms on the desk and buried his face in them. He hadn’t known he was this vulnerable to sexual desire.

A sexual partner. And with someone like Ha Taebeom. Realizing that he was the bold person who could make such a decision with someone much younger who had no experience with men, he couldn’t stop his face from flushing uncontrollably.

Anyway, for the time being—no, maybe for a long time—I have no intention of getting a lover, so let’s just take it lightly.

The other side probably feels the same. As he said, if either finds someone good, they can just end it. A light relationship where you end it if feelings develop, cut it off if it gets tiring.

Let’s do what we talked about yesterday. Just do it.

Life had been too boring, and Ha Taebeom wouldn’t get clingy. It was only natural that the other side would be the first to balk at a serious relationship like dating, and if it became public, the more dangerous side was also his, so that was reassuring too.

For someone who’d never slept with a man, he was good at sex, and no disease issues. His personality seemed more easygoing than expected too.

Once he felt this relationship had no downside for him, it didn’t take long to decide.

Of course, half was impulse, and the remaining half was rebellion with nowhere to direct itself. Yunjae sent the message carrying that impurity without hesitation.

Ha Taebeom

I’ll call you after I’m done. Can I come over today?

The reply came an hour later, but to Yunjae, it felt like an eternity, and in that short time, he was deeply engrossed in thoughts of backing out.

As if sensing Yunjae’s hesitation, Taebeom was quick to act. Perceptively reading Yunjae’s wavering will, which was like a spore ready to fly away at any gap, Taebeom sealed the relationship with a swift reply.

It might have been a reaction to Yunjae’s own lukewarm attitude, but every time he faced Taebeom’s relentlessly bold approach, he couldn’t help the exclamations that escaped.