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"Rain?" Yeonjun looked up from his book, glancing at Beomgyu, who had settled into the chair by the window. "What about it?"
"I asked, do you like the rain?"
Beomgyu watched the droplets unblinkingly, tracing watery paths down the glass. His long-forgotten book lay open on his lap. He flipped it pages-down again, using it as a makeshift bookmark—something Yeonjun had begged him not to do, as it ruined the spine. The soft gurgle of water through the drainpipe and the patter of drops against the pane broke the evening hush of the room.
Yeonjun shifted his gaze from the window to Beomgyu.
"I don't like it," Yeonjun said, returning his eyes to the line he'd already lost.
From the younger one's side came a quiet sound of confusion mixed with surprise.
"But why?"
"Because," Yeonjun sighed, abandoning the line he'd just found, "first off, it gives me a headache, and second, what's so great about it forcing me to carry a heavy umbrella that just gets in the way when the wind picks up?"
"But what about the fresh scent of plants and earth afterward? I love that smell so much..." Beomgyu carefully lifted the book from his lap and closed it. "Or, hyung, don't you find it pleasant to stay indoors during rain? You know it's cold and wet out there, so the bedroom feels so much cozier and warmer. It makes you appreciate what you have."
The book went to rest on the side table by the chair. Beomgyu had grown bored during their usual evening reading time.
"I already appreciate what I have," Yeonjun replied, not hurrying to close his book but reaching for a candy wrap to use as a bookmark. "I don't need external factors for that. By the same logic, I could say I love the sun because the house is cool and shady. But what's the point of loving the sun if I can't feel it?"
"What about the soothing rhythm of the rain? The drops hitting the glass, the leaves, the asphalt? Isn't it amazing how nature creates music?"
Beomgyu pulled out his sketchbook to occupy his hands, pages crumpled and mostly blank.
Yeonjun hummed thoughtfully, listening to the drops outside. Chaotic, sometimes too loud, even unsettling, as if they wanted to shatter the window into his room. The wind's drawn-out howl didn't help.
"I doubt I'd add that melody to my playlist, that's for sure. Maybe if the drops were softer, following a steady beat, it could be an interesting tune. But as it is, I don't hear anything soothing in the rain."
The sound of pencil strokes on paper from Yeonjun's left indicated Beomgyu had immersed himself in drawing. After watching the younger one's focused face and careless brush movements for a few moments, the older returned to his book. It seemed the conversation had come to an end.
"Hyung," Beomgyu pulled him from his reading again. "If I asked you to go on a walk with me in the rain, would you agree?"
"Do you want to go outside right now?" Yeonjun raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Beomgyu shook his head.
"Just answer yes or no."
"If that's your idea for a date, we should think ahead about where to go. Surely, we won't be spending much time wandering in the rain," Yeonjun pulled out his phone. "Want to check which cafes are open?"
"No, hyung," Beomgyu started scribbling with his pencil again. "It was a hypothetical question."
"Then can I go back to reading, or do you need to talk more about the rain?" Yeonjun tapped his fingers on the book cover to draw the younger one's attention.
Beomgyu paused for a few seconds, pondering the question. Then he turned his gaze to Yeonjun. His eyes held genuine confusion.
"How can one not like the rain? It's so innocent and pure; there's something in it that seems to revive the heart. Or, in moments when you're down, it rains as if trying to offer support, making you feel like you're not alone and the rain is right there with you."
Yeonjun wearily rubbed his nose bridge, tired from his reading glasses.
"Beomgyu, I just don't like the rain. It's ruined so many plans for friends meetings, and cars have splashed me with puddle water more times than I can count. Not to mention how many times my feet have gotten soaked and my jeans turned muddy. By the time I reach work, that rain will have wrecked my hairstyle and probably flooded my sneakers. At best, I'll feel disheveled; at worst, I'll look like a wet dog in front of clients. I don't have time to think about some music, scent, or—especially," Yeonjun chuckled, averting his gaze, "support during tough times. More like rain is the one causing those tough times."
Beomgyu left him without a reply, lost in thought and forgetting the pencil in his hands. Yeonjun softly called him back to reality.
"Well, did you get your answer? Are you satisfied?"
"And yet, I still don't understand how someone –" Beomgyu thoughtfully closed his sketchbook and set it beside the book, still drifting in his own musings. "I love the rain so much..."
Yeonjun shrugged, sighing deeply, as Beomgyu began to rise from the chair, untangling himself from a pile of blankets.
"I'll make coffee," Beomgyu said, leaving the room. "Want some?"
The conversation about the rain was over.