Best Friend X Swap

Time spent as friends: twenty-nine years.
The number of years they’d known each other was exactly the same as [N O V E L I G H T] their age. Just hearing that sounded daunting, but for Seo Sa-heon and Lee Seo-eul, it was a perfectly natural label. They’d been together since before they were born, went to the same kindergarten, the same elementary, middle, and high school. After becoming adults, they immediately started living together—so it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say they’d spent practically their entire lives side by side.
Of course, they both knew that this sort of case was rare. No matter how close childhood friends are, there always comes a time when they graduate from each other. Growing older, changing environments, shifting values—it’s natural to drift apart. But even in their twenty-ninth year, Sa-heon and Seo-eul were still right next to each other.
From the outside, their friendship might have looked unusually persistent—unyielding to a bizarre degree. People say you’ve succeeded in life if you’ve made even one true friend; in that sense, the two of them could be considered successful.
Unfortunately, the reality was far from that.
“…Who said I was throwing you away? I just said we should try living separately for once. We can still see each other, Sa-heon. It’s not like I’m moving abroad.”
“Yeah. But that is throwing me away, Seo-eul.”
That had been over a week ago. It was an unexpected topic, and Seo-eul had to steady a voice that almost trembled as he carefully explained again—but it didn’t work. Sa-heon might have acted like he was just mildly sulking, but Seo-eul could see it—the way that gaze of his cooled in real time. Ah, so that’s why he’d seemed to accept it so easily at first.
Maybe he should have suspected something from the moment Sa-heon didn’t react much to the idea of living apart.
He never dreamed Sa-heon would actually go this far. Clenching his fist on top of the sofa, Seo-eul reminded himself he couldn’t back down.
“You’re not some object I’m throwing away. Don’t twist this, okay? You know as well as I do that it’s weird for us to still be living together at this age. We’re turning thirty next year—it’s about time we became independent.”
“So when we turn thirty, the world’s going to collapse? I’m living with you even when I’m forty.”
“Say something that actually makes sense.”
“I am saying something that makes sense.”
“No, you’re not. Who the hell lives with their friend past forty?”
“Me.”
“…Ha.”
Completely unbothered, Sa-heon kept his tone calm and steady—as if he didn’t realize this was supposed to be for his sake too. They’d been living together for nine years now. Back then it had been unavoidable, but now it wasn’t.
Nine years was more than enough.
If anything, it was too long.
So Seo-eul wanted to start fixing things now—slowly, properly. And that started with their living apart.
“I’ve made up my mind. No matter what you say, it won’t work this time. And stop bothering the CEO about that variety show thing. You took the job—take responsibility for it.”
He couldn’t waver anymore. To keep that resolve, he had to be firmer than usual. Tightening his mouth, Seo-eul deliberately enunciated each word. He knew he was softer when it came to Sa-heon, and that awareness made him more rigid now.
If that effort had any effect at all, it was microscopic.
Sa-heon, who had been staring directly at Seo-eul's tightly pressed lips, suddenly went quiet. He was normally like some AI that spat out replies the instant you hit Enter, so the silence felt strange. The quiet stretched, and Seo-eul's sharp eyes narrowed slightly—maybe he finally understood. He relaxed a fraction.

“Then if I take responsibility, will you keep living with me?”
“……”
Yeah, no, he hadn’t understood a thing.
The total lack of comprehension—no, the refusal to even try—made Seo-eul's mind go blank for a moment. Like a lagging computer, he froze for a few seconds before snapping back. No. He couldn’t cave here. Too many times he’d ended up giving in that way. Tightening his fist again, he drew strength from the motion.
“No. I won’t. Why are you putting conditions on something that’s just common sense?”
“Because I was hoping Lee Seo-eul would pretend to lose and agree.”
“…I won’t agree.”
“Why not?”
“What do you mean why not? Are you really going to act like a kid?”
“Hey, guys… maybe don’t fight….”
“Lee Seo-eul. If I really were a kid, you’d have already run away.”
“Why would I run away? If you really were a kid, I’d discipline you first. Pin you down and spank you until you listen.”
“What?”
“What. …Why are you looking at me like that?”
“CEO.”
The bickering—rapid-fire, leaving no gaps between retorts—came to an abrupt halt when Seo Sa-heon froze mid-expression. Caught off guard, Seo-eul tried to ask what was wrong, but Sa-heon had already turned his head sharply toward Yeom Gang-sik.
The sudden call of “CEO” made Yeom’s neck creak as he turned. He’d already given up trying to stop this childish nonsense, but now… something about this felt ominous.
“Lee Seo-eul is sexually harassing me. Can I sue him for that?”
“……”
…Seriously?
Yeom didn’t even find it worth responding to. But a stunned Seo-eul still sputtered out an objection.
“Hey, when did I ever—”
“Why not? You said you’d pin me down with my pants off and spank me. Are you a pervert now, Seo-eul? Since when did you have those kinds of kinks?”
Kinks? It was just a figure of speech, for God’s sake! Completely deadpan, Sa-heon took it even further. In an instant, Seo-eul had been branded some kind of freak with an unusual fetish, and his lips trembled. When the hell did I ever say anything about pants?!
“Are you insane? Don’t twist my words like that!”
“Yeah, I’m on medication, Seo-eul. So just tell me—since when did you get those kinks? You should explain so I can—”
That was it. Seo-eul had reached his limit.
To stop the stream of ridiculousness, he decided to take drastic measures.
Grabbing Sa-heon's solid shoulders, he yanked him forward. Sa-heon followed more easily than expected, and when their eye level matched, Seo-eul reached out and clapped a hand over that troublesome mouth. Finally—silence. He could feel the sharp gaze burning into his cheek, but he ignored it.
Sure, Sa-heon was mischievous and liked to tease, but that was only when it was just the two of them. Usually, when others were around, he kept quiet. So why was he like this today?
With a throbbing headache, Seo-eul frowned slightly—and then met Yeom Gang-sik’s eyes.
Ah.
“……”
“……”
“……”
“…I’m sorry, CEO. I’ll apologize on his behalf.”
“No, no, Seo-eul, why are you apologizing?”
As always, the one to offer the apology was Seo-eul. His white earlobes were flushed red, the color of someone painfully aware of how childish the argument had been. Yeom, pretending not to notice, waved his hands. After all, Seo-eul hadn’t done anything to apologize for.
If anyone should, it was that damned brat.
He bit back the rest of the thought and shot Sa-heon a glare—but it was pointless. The man had already leaned his cheek halfway against Seo-eul's shoulder, looking perfectly content. Apparently, he found having his mouth covered quite pleasing.
Well…, pointing that out wouldn’t change a thing.
Yeom clicked his tongue. He’d seen this kind of scene too many times to count. As he sighed, Seo-eul spoke up again, cautiously.
“And thank you for the offer, but… variety shows really aren’t for me. You know I can only read from a script. I’m not witty or funny enough to be any help to the show.”
“Oh, for crying out loud…”
What are you even saying, kid? Yeom ground his teeth in frustration. You’re entertaining even when you’re silent. Your fans would thank the heavens for a five-hour video of you reading a book without saying a word!
But no matter how loudly he screamed that in his head, Seo-eul would never get it.
He exhaled and nodded. Only then did Seo-eul's expression relax. He’d raised his voice earlier because of Sa-heon, but at heart, Lee Seo-eul was a calm person.
“I’ll talk to Sa-heon properly. Sorry for the trouble. If you’ve already been in touch with the production team… please tell them I’m sorry too.”
“Hey, hey, don’t worry about that. I’m the one who let that idiot talk me into it. You don’t need to apologize. Really, enough with the sorrys, okay?”
“Still.”
…Would a “talk” really fix anything, though? Yeom couldn’t help glancing sideways at the man now openly leaning against Seo-eul. Head tilted, eyes fixed solely on him—just looking at Sa-heon gave him a headache. Sure, he’d improved a lot compared to before, but with Seo-eul bringing up “living separately,” who knew what would happen now?
Ah, hell. This bad feeling.
A shiver crept down his back as he turned away. Hoping his premonition was wrong, Yeom left Seo-eul with a final word.
“Well… if you change your mind, let me know, okay? If you ever decide you want to do it, I’ll personally make sure you’re on the show, even if I have to beg on my knees. And if anything gets hard, call me. Got it?”
“Yes. I will, CEO.”
He smiled, eyes curling at the corners—but everyone in the room knew he wouldn’t. Watching a boy who drew invisible lines even between himself and his own boss, Yeom Gang-sik barely held back another sigh.
And exactly four days later, after one phone call, he had to admit—his premonition had been right.