LS 78

7. Poking the Handsome Guy I Can’t Have

“Kimchi stew…”

What was he, some kind of Pavlov’s dog?

Did just stepping into Dohee’s place automatically make him crave kimchi stew?

Sure, that was how Dohee had first lured him in. But still, the feeling was… weird.

“How about we skip the kimchi stew today and do spicy pork instead? I just remembered we have some pork left.”

“Yeah, yeah!”

He even answered twice. God, he was too damn cute.

Smiling, Dohee headed for the kitchen.

While he pulled out the pork and kimchi and lined up the sauces without much thought, Moonhyuk stayed planted somewhere between the kitchen and living room, following Dohee with his eyes.

Their gazes met when Dohee turned around. Moonhyuk smiled.

His blank expression melted into a bashful grin so fast it made Dohee speechless.

They say cuteness is a trap.

He’d heard that somewhere, how being handsome or cool can lose its luster over time, but if someone feels cute to you… then you’re already hopeless.

Ah. So this is what hopeless looks like. Dohee accepted his own state coolly.

“Why’re you standing there, hyung?”

“Huh?”

“Go do that hidden quest. You can watch the story cutscene without me, right?”

“Oh! Yeah, I can!”

“I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“Should I… help with anything–”

“Nope.”

“But I’m actually good at cooking…”

Moonhyuk’s voice faded like a guilty whisper, and Dohee burst out laughing again.

Most people who say they’re good at cooking aren’t, but now that he said it… Dohee was a little curious.

Moonhyuk’s cooking, huh?

“Then cook for me next time. Right now it’s my place, I picked the menu, and I’m more comfortable cooking myself.”

“Ah, o-okay… then next time I’ll…”

“Sure. Think about what you want to make. We can go grocery shopping together.”

“Huh? Yeah!”

“Now go turn on the computer.”

He was such a good listener.

After nodding enthusiastically, Moonhyuk carefully opened the game room door and stepped inside.

Even from the gap of the half-open door, Dohee could hear him rustling around inside.

He couldn’t stop smiling.

Just like that, the mess in his head cleared, and peace settled in.

It felt like magic.

💎

He sliced some onions.

Added diagonally-cut green onions, diced cabbage, and thinly-sliced carrots.

Tossed in a few frozen cheongyang peppers too.

Judging from how Moonhyuk handled the kimchi stew, he didn’t seem like someone who could take intense heat, so Dohee only added a little.

He drizzled a bit of oil, stir-fried the pork, added the sauce he’d prepared and a splash of water, and stirred it again.

Once the meat was cooked, he tossed in the vegetables and gave everything a nice sear.

The savory scent quickly filled the whole house.

He scooped up freshly cooked rice and laid the table.

With a few store-bought side dishes added, it looked like a proper meal.

By now Moonhyuk should’ve come out, but he was still quiet.

Maybe he was really into the hidden quest cutscene.

Curious, Dohee peeked into the game room.

“Hyung.”

“W-whoa!?”

Instead of being seated at the desk watching the monitor like Dohee expected, Moonhyuk was standing in front of the desk, staring into the box Dohee had pulled out earlier.

He’d meant to put it away but had forgotten in the rush to greet him.

“Dinner’s ready. What are you doing?”

“Oh, uh… I was just leaving the room and saw this box. I-I’m sorry for looking without asking…”

“No, it’s fine. I left it open. It’s nothing special.”

“This is, um… a camcorder and mic and stuff, right?”

“Yeah. Stuff I used when I streamed.”

Dohee leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Moonhyuk’s eyes didn’t leave the box.

He clearly wanted a closer look, so Dohee spoke up.

“You can take it out if you want.”

“Wait, really!?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow… this is what GoingSupporter used when he streamed, right?”

“Yup. Inside there’s the camera, mic, audio interface, all that. Lighting’s probably still in the utility room.”

“That’s so cool…”

Moonhyuk began carefully lifting things out and examining them.

Was it really that fascinating? Well, to a regular person, maybe it would be. Most people never saw this kind of gear.

Dohee watched him with a smile. Moonhyuk liked GoingSupporter.

And when he first started liking Dohee, the streams had already stopped.

So maybe that made it even more intriguing.

While looking over the equipment, Moonhyuk glanced back at Dohee. Their eyes met. He hesitantly opened his mouth.

“Um… th-this might be rude, I hope it’s not–”

“What is it? Whatever it is, I won’t get mad. It’s you.”

“O-oh…”

A faint blush colored Moonhyuk’s cheeks. Dohee hadn’t seen it many times, but now he knew, when Moonhyuk made that face, it meant he was happy.

Dohee had always thought he wasn’t very attuned to others’ emotions.

But in front of Moonhyuk, that wasn’t the case.

Maybe it was because he liked him. He was starting to memorize Moonhyuk’s every reaction, every little gesture.

“I, uh… I was just wondering. Why did you stop streaming?”

He was fidgeting so much it was obvious how nervous he was to ask.

He turned the mic in his hands, fiddling like he didn’t know what to do. He clearly didn’t want to upset Dohee, but he’d been curious.

Dohee shrugged.

“Do you want to see me stream?”

“Yeah! I mean – yes, but I figured you had your reasons, so… I just thought it was a shame. I never got to see you live, even once.”

“But you said you watched a bunch of my videos.”

“I did, I did. There were a lot, and honestly, I didn’t always understand what you were saying… but I rewatched them anyway.”

Moonhyuk gave a sheepish smile. Dohee quietly watched him. His mouth moved on impulse.

“It’s not like there’s some big reason.”

“Huh?”

“I’m just a coward, that’s all. I got scared of streaming. Scared of being hated, of being judged by strangers. I just… couldn’t handle it. That’s why.”

“Oh… was it because of that video, the one with the fight in the Xeno raid team…?”

“Yeah. Back then, it was.”

“…?”

Dohee had answered in the past tense, and confusion washed over Moonhyuk’s face.

Dohee smiled faintly. He didn’t really know anymore. His feelings were a mess, and he didn’t know what he wanted.

It wasn’t even that huge a decision, and yet he was treating it like the world would collapse.

Things might not even change that much. He knew the situation was different now, he knew most of the haters were gone, and more people were waiting for him.

Even so, the words “I’ll start streaming again” just wouldn’t come out.

Even though he was emotional enough to open the box and look inside.

“Hyung.”

Dohee continued, slowly.

“Did you enjoy watching my videos?”

He knew the spicy pork was probably getting cold in the kitchen, but he still wanted to hear Moonhyuk’s answer.

Moonhyuk blinked.

He looked surprised, like, Why would you even ask that?

Then he nodded quickly.

“Yes!”

“What part? You said you didn’t even understand half of it.”

Moonhyuk gently set the mic back down on the desk and turned toward Dohee.

“That didn’t really matter.”

It was the most serious expression Dohee had ever seen on him.

Moonhyuk spoke softly.

“I didn’t get the raid pattern explanations or the skill builds or the PvP setups, but… I still liked it. Once I thought, I like this person, then every video felt fun. I’d watch while eating dinner alone. I’d put on your dyeing videos, or just your random daily quest ramble videos. Even if I didn’t know what was going on, it was just nice to hear you talk.

Your voice was nice, and even though you didn’t say much, the occasional jokes were fun. Watching the chat scroll by, and seeing you laugh at some awful dad joke.

I liked that. One by one, I just kept watching. And… I know it sounds kinda weird, but you started to feel like a friend. At some point, I stopped feeling lonely.”

Dohee’s heart clenched. He didn’t say a word, just listened.

“When I ate alone, when I rode the bus to my part-time job. I’d watch one of your uploads, listen to you chat about nothing, and it just… made me feel better. I didn’t know a thing about the game. I’d never even played games on my phone. But I was curious. What’s the game this person’s playing? And before I knew it, I’d hit the subscribe button.”

“….”

“So yeah, I was always kind of sad. Because I couldn’t tell you that I liked your videos, or that today’s stream was fun. GoingSupporter doesn’t stream anymore, so… I couldn’t do anything.

I left likes, left comments saying great video, but I always thought…It’d be better if I could tell you in real time. Because I really did have such a good time.”

Moonhyuk gave a goofy smile at the end. It was Dohee’s favorite kind, the kind that shattered his usual cold face.

“Thinking about it now, I feel so dumb…”

“What?”

“I mean… I watched your videos so much, and yet I didn’t recognize your voice?”

He raised a hand and scratched the back of his head. Dohee laughed out loud.

“I must be an idiot… I should be disqualified as a GoingSupporter fan…”

His voice immediately turned sulky.

He mumbled about how he should’ve noticed sooner, how maybe he was just clueless, even though his hearing test results had always been fine.

Dohee pressed a hand to his chest. Something strange and overwhelming spread inside.

He’d heard plenty of nice words from subscribers before, but the things Moonhyuk said stirred up a different kind of feeling entirely.

It must be because Moonhyuk was special. Because he was special to Dohee.

Dohee had been praised and hated in equal measure, but nothing had ever felt this real.

He’d always felt like he was floating, adrift with no direction, pushed around by waves he couldn’t see. But right now, in this moment, it felt like he’d been pulled up to dry land.

Kwon Moonhyuk’s words had pulled Baek Dohee out of that vast, endless sea.

“…Hyung.”

“Y-yeah?”

“…Do you think I should stream again?”