Hakyung found himself momentarily dazed by the CEO’s handsome face, which loomed so close it practically filled his entire field of vision.
The sharp, piercing blue of Muheon’s eyes seemed almost too intense, like twin beacons cutting through the salty sea breeze.
They held a depth that Hakyung often found himself lost in, a silent promise of strength and unwavering support.
But the lingering salty sting at the very tip of his nose, a phantom sensation from the ocean air, jolted Hakyung back to reality, and his shoulders shivered again involuntarily, as if the chill had reached his very bones, bypassing all physical barriers.
Muheon—no, Muheon—silently clicked his tongue at Hakyung’s overly dramatic reaction, a soft, almost imperceptible sound of mild exasperation, as if gently scolding a beloved pet for making an unnecessary fuss.
It was a familiar dynamic between them, Hakyung’s theatricality often met with Muheon’s calm, amused tolerance.
“Let’s start by letting go of the handle,” Muheon said softly, his voice a gentle murmur, placing his fingers gently yet firmly over Hakyung’s white-knuckled grip on the car door handle.
He began to coax Hakyung’s fingers open with an easy patience that was at once soothing and utterly firm, an undeniable command hidden beneath the gentle touch.
“B-but…! What if I fall into the sea and die during the walk?” Hakyung’s voice cracked just slightly, betraying the flutter of raw panic still swirling in his chest like a trapped bird.
Despite the logical fact that, unless the tide was surging in with unusual force, it was actually quite hard to drown in the shallow, calm waters of the West Sea, his mind refused to settle.
His deeply ingrained fear had hijacked his rational thought process, making the waves seem to roar louder in his imagination than they actually were, a monstrous echo of past trauma.
Muheon let out a low chuckle at Hakyung’s silly worry, a warm, resonant sound that vibrates slightly through Hakyung’s hand.
He shook his head with amused disbelief, finding Hakyung’s vivid imagination both exasperating and incredibly endearing.
His laughter, clear and warm, was the kind that could thaw even the most stubbornly frozen fears, a soft melody against the cacophony of Hakyung’s anxiety.
But Hakyung scowled, visibly offended by the clearly mocking tone in Muheon’s voice, a flicker of wounded pride flashing across his face.
Seeing the indignant expression, Muheon clicked his tongue again, a quick, light sound, and tapped lightly between Hakyung’s furrowed eyebrows, a playful gesture meant to lighten the mood and banish the fleeting irritation.
“You’re not gonna die. Did you forget I was born in the sea?” Muheon said with quiet certainty, his voice imbued with a confidence that left no room for doubt.
It was a statement that held both a literal truth and a deeper, metaphorical one about his profound connection to the ocean.
“Sure, you were, but…” Hakyung’s doubt lingered, a stubborn residue of his phobia, even as his white-knuckled grip on the door handle loosened a little, a tiny victory against his fear.
“If it comes to that, I’ll save you before I die,” Muheon added, his voice lowering into a steady, protective promise, an unshakeable vow that resonated with absolute devotion.
It was a statement that would, in any other context, sound dramatic, but here, it was simply Muheon’s truth.
“No! You can’t die, sir!” Hakyung protested instantly, his worry shifting abruptly from his own safety to Muheon’s, his voice laced with desperation.
The idea of Muheon—his steadfast anchor, his unwavering support, the very foundation of his current happiness—being vulnerable, being less than invincible, was simply unbearable.
He couldn’t fathom a world without Muheon’s strength.
“I’m telling you, I won’t,” Muheon reassured him, a small but confident smile playing on his lips, his eyes conveying a deeper certainty than his words alone.
Finally, with a deep breath that hitched slightly in his throat, Hakyung let go of the handle completely.
Before he could second-guess himself, before the fear could reassert its grip, Muheon scooped him up effortlessly into his arms.
Hakyung was light, almost unnaturally so, like hugging a treasured stuffed toy rather than a grown man.
The surprising lightness caused a flicker of concern in Muheon’s mind, a subtle worry that immediately translated into a new goal for the day: once this ordeal was over, he’d treat
Hakyung to some proper nourishing food, something substantial and delicious, to bulk him up a little.
The thought, mundane yet deeply caring, brought a gentle warmth to his heart.
As Muheon silently fretted over how light Hakyung was, the younger man—now out of the confines of the car and exposed to the open air—instinctively grabbed onto
Muheon’s jacket, clinging to his side like his feet, might betray him if they touched the ground.
Hakyung wrapped his legs tightly around Muheon’s waist, holding on for dear life, his grip surprisingly strong given his fear.
He looked less like a grown man and more like a baby monkey clinging to its caretaker in a moment of profound uncertainty, utterly dependent and vulnerable.
Unable to resist the adorable sight, Muheon lightly nibble on Hakyung’s soft cheek, a tender, playful bite.
Instead of pulling away in protest, Hakyung giggled quietly, a small, delightful sound that eased the remaining tension between them, dissolving the last vestiges of fear in a wave of affectionate laughter.
After teasing those plush cheeks for a few more moments, savoring the soft skin and the gentle warmth, Muheon slowly lowered his arms, gently letting Hakyung’s feet touch the ground once again.
He supported him for a moment, ensuring Hakyung was steady before fully releasing him.
“Alright, take my hand,” Muheon instructed softly, his voice a calm anchor in the vastness of Hakyung’s fear.
“You won’t let go of my hand, right?” Hakyung asked, his eyes wide with lingering fear, searching Muheon’s face for absolute reassurance.
His voice was a thin thread of sound, barely above a whisper.
“Got it,” Muheon promised firmly, his grip strong and unwavering, leaving no room for doubt.
It was a simple phrase, but the conviction behind it was absolute.
Hakyung slipped his fingers tightly between Muheon’s thick ones, feeling the warmth and strength of his hand, and began to move his feet cautiously, as though testing the ground beneath him for the very first time.
Each step was tentative, a delicate exploration.
Watching him was like witnessing a child’s first steps—fragile, uncertain, yet filled with a burgeoning determination.
Considering Muheon’s actual, ancient age, Hakyung’s level of development in this particular aspect made that comparison strangely fitting, adding a layer of ironic sweetness to the scene.
With one hand holding Hakyung’s tightly and the other carrying the lunch bag, its contents a comforting weight, Muheon began walking slowly toward the sea.
Though hesitant, Hakyung kept pace, sticking close like a shadow, his body almost pressing against Muheon’s side.
His breaths were uneven, short and shallow, his steps unsure, but he moved forward all the same, propelled by Muheon’s steady presence and his own growing resolve.
After about fifteen minutes of walking leisurely along the shoreline, the soft crunch of sand beneath their feet accompanying the gentle lapping of waves, they arrived at a place Hakyung had completely forgotten about—but Muheon hadn’t.
This was the very spot, etched into Muheon’s ancient memory, where he had once rescued Hakyung.
A sudden wave of nostalgia, sweet and melancholic, washed over Muheon, and he paused, taking a moment to simply take in the surroundings, to connect with the echoes of the past.
Meanwhile, Hakyung let out a faint, distressed groan beside him, his gaze fixed on the water.
“Th-the waves…! Aaaah! Sir!” Hakyung’s panic returned in full force, a sudden, overwhelming surge, despite the waves breaking at least two meters away, their foamy whitecaps appearing benign to any other observer.
His overreaction was honestly award-worthy, a theatrical display that Muheon had grown accustomed to.
Muheon, gently but firmly dragging the clinging Hakyung along, stepped a little closer to the water’s edge.
In truth, he was practically carrying him again, Hakyung’s weight pressing against him as he tried to recoil.
Hakyung’s breath was fast and shallow—“hik, hik”—a desperate gasp for air, and while Muheon felt a pang of concern for him, he knew he couldn’t let Hakyung remain afraid of the ocean forever.
It was an essential part of who he was, and he yearned for Hakyung to share it without fear.
They were going to live together for the rest of their lives, a future Muheon envisioned with a deep sense of certainty, and surely the sea would be a place they visited often, a source of peace and wonder.
Determined to apply a bit of Spartan-style training where the ocean was concerned, a gentle yet firm immersion, Muheon ignored Hakyung’s dramatics and spoke calmly, his voice a steadying presence.
“Open your eyes.”
“Ugh… okay, just a second…!” Hakyung squeezed his eyes shut, then slowly reopened them, taking a deep breath in and exhaling slowly, a conscious effort to calm his racing heart.
He had actually tried various methods to overcome his fear of the sea over the years, desperate attempts born of his phobia.
He’d listened to ocean ASMR on YouTube, hoping for a soothing effect; he’d watched snorkeling videos, trying to desensitize himself; and he’d read articles about marine life, attempting to understand what he feared.
But instead of easing his phobia, those efforts had only made it worse, solidifying his aversion.
Still, now he had the CEO—his lover, a man born of the sea, who radiated an aura of calm strength—by his side.
Hakyung forced himself to ignore the frantic pounding of his anxious heart and took one small, agonizing step closer to the waves, his courage a fragile but determined flame.
He wanted to prove, if only to himself, that he was scared of the sea, yes, but not that he hated it.
He wanted to conquer this fear for them.
His tightly held hand grew damp with nervous sweat, a tangible manifestation of his inner struggle.
For Hakyung, this was a monumental challenge, a true test of courage, far more daunting than any physical feat.
Even though he moved at a snail’s pace, each step a hesitant crawl, Muheon never sighed, frowned, or looked frustrated.
Instead, he gently patted Hakyung’s clammy hand, a soothing gesture that conveyed understanding and encouragement, and silently cheered on his “little river dolphin,” as he affectionately thought of him, a tender nickname that spoke volumes of his affection.
“Uh, uh…! I touched it! D-did you see? Sir, I touched the sea!”
Hakyung’s voice trembled with a mixture of excitement and disbelief, a childlike wonder at his own accomplishment.
The very tip of Hakyung’s sneaker barely brushed the ocean’s edge—a movement so slight it would have gone unnoticed if you weren’t paying close attention, a microscopic victory.
Still, Muheon nodded in approval at Hakyung’s words, a proud, encouraging gesture, and gave his tense shoulder a reassuring squeeze, a silent affirmation of his courage.
“How was it?” Muheon asked, his voice was soft, inviting Hakyung to share his experience.
“I-it’s not that bad actually… aaaaah! It’s wet!”
Hakyung exclaimed, his voice suddenly sharp with renewed alarm, just as a wave that had been gently lapping at his toes suddenly splashed up to his ankles, soaking his shoe.
He looked utterly devastated as he stared down at his soaked sneakers, the water seeping in and the coarse sand sticking stubbornly to the wet fabric.
Seeing the dramatic shift in his expression, from tentative triumph to comical despair, Muheon couldn’t help but burst out laughing, a deep, joyful sound that echoed across the shore.
He wondered if anything could be more adorable, helpless, and precious than this man before him, his unique blend of fear and bravery, his dramatic reactions and genuine innocence.
Lifting the now drenched Hakyung back into his arms, his lightness still a slight concern, Muheon decided that was enough for today.
They’d go buy some cute new shoes instead—something fresh and dry to replace the ruined pair, a tangible reward for Hakyung’s bravery.
But then—
“Wait a second, sir.” Hakyung’s voice was soft, thoughtful.
“…?” Muheon paused, curiosity piqued by the unexpected request.
Hakyung tilted his head and pressed his cheek tightly against Muheon’s neck.
For some reason, the posture felt strangely familiar, a sense of déjà vu washing over him.
Since he was the type who loved clinging to his partner, Hakyung often stayed attached to Muheon when they were alone—but this felt different, almost like a memory stirring deep inside him, a forgotten echo from the distant past.
He couldn’t quite explain how it was different… it just was.
A warm sensation and a profound sense of absolute safety filled his mind, a feeling so strong it was almost overwhelming.
“As long as I’m being held like this, I feel like nothing bad could ever happen to me. It’s like… like I’ve been in this exact spot before. It’s so warm, and I feel incredibly safe.”
“You feel like this happened before too?” Muheon asked gently, his voice low and curious, a thrill of anticipation running through him.
This was it, the moment he had been waiting for.
“Yes, really!” Hakyung answered brightly, his eyes wide with a dawning realization, and once again rubbed his cheek against Muheon’s nape like a cicada clinging to an old tree, seeking comfort and connection.
“Yeah, you caught on well.”
Muheon’s voice was soft, laced with a gentle pride.
“Huh…? Caught on to what?”
Hakyung blinked at the sentence that lacked a subject, clearly confused by the cryptic statement.
His brows furrowed in renewed puzzlement.
Just as he was about to ask for a hint about what Muheon meant, Muheon spoke first, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone, ready to reveal the truth.
“Was it eighteen years ago? I came up to the surface of the sea for the first time in a long while.”
“If it was then…”
Hakyung whispered, his mind racing, connecting the dots in a sudden, exhilarating flash of understanding.
The pieces of a forgotten puzzle were finally clicking into place.
“Yeah. Right here, where I found a small finless porpoise struggling in the shallow water.”
Muheon’s gaze met Hakyung’s, a knowing look passing between them.
Hakyung’s eyes grew as big as saucers at Muheon’s words, their blue depths wide with shock and revelation.
His breath caught in his throat, a silent gasp.
Unbelievable statements continued to follow, each one a hammer blow to his long-held beliefs.
The point of the long, intertwined story was that it wasn’t that bastard Kim Taeyoung who had saved him when he almost drowned as a child—but this very man, Muheon, standing in front of him, holding him gently.
Hakyung stood there dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open, utterly speechless.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis, his past re-written in an instant.
“T-That makes no sense! How could you have saved me, sir… and how did you even know it was me?” he stammered, disbelief warring with the dawning truth.
“You think I wouldn’t recognize a porpoise that looked like you? It’s not even been twenty years,” Muheon replied with a small smirk, a hint of playful arrogance in his tone.
It wasn’t a short time like “not even twenty years”—it had been well over fifteen long years.
At that time, Muheon must’ve still been a teenager himself, a young man undertaking a heroic act.
Volunteering to save a child couldn’t have been easy, yet here he was, quietly proud of his past kindness, a silent guardian all those years.
Regardless, Hakyung didn’t fully believe everything Muheon said, a lingering skepticism born of years of believing a different narrative.
Still, he didn’t want to deflate his lover’s pride, a delicate balance between truth and affection.
“Wow, then you’re the benefactor who saved my life, sir.”
Hakyung offered a forced smile on his face, trying to match Muheon’s tone.
“Exactly.” Muheon’s shoulders seemed to rise a little in a modest shrug, his expression radiating a quiet satisfaction.
Hakyung chuckled softly at the adorable reaction, forgetting entirely that they were still standing at the ocean’s edge, the waves a gentle presence beside them.
Even the sound of the gentle waves didn’t bother him anymore.
The sea, once a terrifying place where he’d almost died, a source of profound fear and trauma, was slowly transforming into a place of fond memories—one where he shared warm conversations, intimate revelations, and playful banter with Muheon.
The ocean, once a symbol of dread, was now a backdrop for love.
“I guess the reason I can stay calm in the ocean like this… is because you’re a sea eel, sir.”
Hakyung said, his voice laced with a teasing affection, a subtle jab at Muheon’s earlier exasperation.
“Wait a minute, Kang Hakyung.”
Muheon’s voice was edged with amusement and mock indignation, a clear sign that he was about to engage in their playful sparring.
“Yes?” Hakyung replied, tilting his head innocently.
At Muheon’s question, Hakyung whispered into his ear, a conspiratorial secret.
“You’re an eel, sir. Oh, right. Brother Geunrim told me not to mention it… Is it not okay to say it directly to you?”
He held back a giggle, enjoying the moment.
“Haah… Fine, sea eel. Sure.”
Muheon looked oddly defeated, like he’d just been bested in a playful argument, his shoulders slumping in mock surrender.
A small, exasperated smile played on his lips.
Hakyung’s voice grew even smaller, brimming with teasing affection, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
“And I heard that, um… that part of yours is special, sir…? I’m fine with anything I see, so please don’t hold back and just pounce on me.”
His words, bold and suggestive, were a testament to his burgeoning confidence in their relationship.
“I’m seriously going crazy here.”
Muheon shook his head in disbelief, though his lips twitched into a fond smile, unable to hide his amusement and affection.
He leaned into Hakyung’s touch.
Blushing as he leaned into the man who was feigning exasperation, Hakyung smiled too, a radiant, genuine smile that lit up his face.
Considering how firm his trust was, even if Muheon were to reveal his true identity here and now, Hakyung likely wouldn’t believe it anyway, convinced it was just another one of Muheon’s elaborate jokes.
But the truth was, Muheon’s fighting spirit had taken a serious hit after being caught off guard by the finless porpoise’s sass.
Finally, Muheon took Hakyung—who now seemed more adapted to the sea than before, his fear significantly diminished—back up to the safety of the beach.
The shoes he had lost in the water were soaked through and covered in clinging sand.
No matter how much he shook his feet, the stubborn grains refused to come off, clinging resolutely to the wet fabric.
“Here, wear these.”
Muheon pulled out a clean, dry towel and a fresh pair of sneakers from a shopping bag—who knew when he had prepared them, a testament to his foresight—and handed them over.
Looking confused but immensely grateful, Hakyung slipped on the new sneakers and jogged in place a little, testing their comfort.
They were comfy and fit perfectly, a small symbol of the comfort and new beginnings Muheon offered.
A good new memory of the ocean had just been made, replacing a lifetime of fear with a moment of tender connection.