[ In a night where he was supposed to tidily sweep under the rug whatever it was their team relationship was transforming into, he's kissed them both now. With every single browbeating from the agent, the temperature of his face rises into a full-on burning, a scene at odds with his utterly blank expression. So he thinks of him as a smooth-talking fraud. A liar. He's not wrong, but it's another thing to know that his supervisor, a character he's followed from conception, the person whose stories always lifted his spirits — that he knows.
It's just as the hollow in chest erodes into a cave that Agent Choi gets in close, and with any domino effect, Soleum winces. Breaks, just a little, because it's not as if he's been given any other choice. If this were an interrogation room, he'd stand little chance against him. And he hates that. He hates the insufferable stinging that's punctured his throat, how that same stinging is starting to hit his eyes. Hates that on the outskirts of all this absurdity Agent Bronze is watching them, seeing how his nerves are brimming over, hates how he's spent so long hiding only to be so completely seen through —
After what he says beneath his breath, Soleum's thoughts stop. It's impossible to keep himself from staring. He could challenge him on that point, but he won't. He wants to believe in it, that no matter what he chooses or who he turns out to be, they can still…
They can still go back to that waiting room.
His gaze quivers. His hands would, too, if he weren't desperately clutching his own wrist. Without looking away, he tells him: ] It's not about hating it. [ He works his jaw, clenching it tight. Releasing the tension only when he's ready. ] I don't hate it. Or dislike it, even a bit — I like you, and I like Bronze-nim. It's just not easy for me to… to kiss someone. Or have sex. [ The fingers of his free hand flex. ] I also understand that's not an acceptable explanation for either of you… I'm sorry, I wish I knew how to handle this better.
[ … ]
And you don't have to make those kinds of promises. Or at least I'll never hold you to something like that…
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It's just as the hollow in chest erodes into a cave that Agent Choi gets in close, and with any domino effect, Soleum winces. Breaks, just a little, because it's not as if he's been given any other choice. If this were an interrogation room, he'd stand little chance against him. And he hates that. He hates the insufferable stinging that's punctured his throat, how that same stinging is starting to hit his eyes. Hates that on the outskirts of all this absurdity Agent Bronze is watching them, seeing how his nerves are brimming over, hates how he's spent so long hiding only to be so completely seen through —
After what he says beneath his breath, Soleum's thoughts stop. It's impossible to keep himself from staring. He could challenge him on that point, but he won't. He wants to believe in it, that no matter what he chooses or who he turns out to be, they can still…
They can still go back to that waiting room.
His gaze quivers. His hands would, too, if he weren't desperately clutching his own wrist. Without looking away, he tells him: ] It's not about hating it. [ He works his jaw, clenching it tight. Releasing the tension only when he's ready. ] I don't hate it. Or dislike it, even a bit — I like you, and I like Bronze-nim. It's just not easy for me to… to kiss someone. Or have sex. [ The fingers of his free hand flex. ] I also understand that's not an acceptable explanation for either of you… I'm sorry, I wish I knew how to handle this better.
[ … ]
And you don't have to make those kinds of promises. Or at least I'll never hold you to something like that…