By Zephyria Without minding that his knit was stretching, he pulled up the soft sleeve to grasp higher on his arm. The man, still with a troubled expression, hunched his upper body forward, and Choi Hong-seo wrapped his arms around his neck. Though the pulling force was weak, he willingly bent to Choi Hong-seo’s pull. As he hugged his neck tightly, he finally felt like a person living as a person. He finally felt like he was breathing, like blood was circulating through his veins.
“The members will come back late, around dawn, after practice anyway.”
“……”
“Please don’t go.”
He slowly raised his head. Warm eyes filled with pity and affection looked down at Choi Hong-seo. Was this the same look he gave that dog he used to hug, wrapped in his sweater?
A premonition that he might never meet this gaze again tightened his chest, making him anxious and breathless. They say that when you’re sick, your heart also weakens, so it must be that. This unusual anxiety, this feeling that he shouldn’t be separated from him…
“You’re not going, are you?”
While the direct request of ‘Please don’t go’ was surprising, the subtlety of ‘You’re not going, are you?’ and the fact that he was acting like a fox, as people often say, surprised him even more. Before or after this, he had never acted so spoiled towards Lee Hae-sung.
Finally, the trace of worry vanished from his face, replaced by a soft, warm, cream-like smile.
“How could I go? My baby likes me this much.”
He finally climbed onto the bed completely and lay down beside him. As soon as he slid under the covers and lay next to him, Choi Hong-seo snuggled close to his body. He chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around Choi Hong-seo’s neck and pulling him into a hug. Kisses landed multiple times on his forehead, temples, and hair.
“If I could, I’d take you to my place and let you rest for a few days… but since I can’t do that.”
His large hand, holding Choi Hong-seo, moved up and down, stroking his shoulder. Then, kissing his forehead, he moved his lips to speak.
“I’ll sneak out when everyone’s asleep in the morning, so sleep well and get better soon. Okay?”
Nodding, he burrowed deeper into his neck. He wrapped his arms around his thick, solid torso and squeezed his side tightly.
He didn’t want to fall asleep. He wanted to engrave this precious time with him fully into his memory. Yet, the exhaustion of his body separated Choi Hong-seo from him, pushing him into a hazy dream. Outside, the rain was turning into a thunderstorm. Flashes of light, like the heavens punishing the sins of humans on earth, flickered, followed by the sound of thunder, like divine wrath. Then, for a moment, raindrops hammered against the window as if tons of sand were being thrown at once. This repeated several times.
His breathing. The comfortable rise and fall of his chest with each breath. His strong pulse. The unique scent of Lee Hae-sung, a blend of the cleanser, aftershave, lotion, and perfume he used.
He was so close. He could touch, hold, and be held. At this moment, it felt like there couldn’t be a more definite existence, yet the fact that such certainty could be destroyed was unbelievable. Unbelievable, and he didn’t want to believe it, so he pretended to be asleep and rubbed his face against his neck. Tears, as hot as his body temperature, flowed and seeped between his skin and cheek. He hoped he wouldn’t notice, and indeed, he merely pressed his lips to his forehead, not shaking his shoulder to ask the meaning of his tears.
The sound of the rain seemed to recede, and he was pulled into a sleep close to unconsciousness.
He jolted awake, as if from a dream of falling off a cliff, and Choi Hong-seo looked for Lee Hae-sung first.
“……”
He saw a back hunched over, lying close to the edge of the bed. The last memory before falling asleep was them holding each other tightly, as if they had become one, but he was lying separately, without even a blanket.
Choi Hong-seo reached out towards his back, only to find his clothes had been changed. He must have wiped him down once more in the meantime and changed his sweat-soaked clothes. Yet, had he been suffering from such a fever that he didn’t wake up…
He couldn’t stand it. He wanted to hug him. He wanted to be held by him. He wanted to be deeply connected with him and confirm each other’s existence in the ‘ordinary way’ he had never experienced with anyone else.
He gently touched his back with his fingertips. Are you sleeping? and a question mark.
By the time he finished the dot of the question mark, his broad back trembled lightly, and a chuckle was heard.
“Why are you already awake and fidgeting? Sleep more.”
“Why… hmm, hmm, why are you lying facing away from me?”
Choi Hong-seo’s voice was hoarse and cracked from the fever. The voice created vibrations, tremors, in the calm, quiet air. Tension instantly filled the space between them.
After a moment of silence, he replied.
“…I kept having other thoughts.”
“……”
“I felt like I was falling into self-loathing.”
Choi Hong-seo continued to draw meaningless shapes on his back. Other thoughts… self-loathing… He knew what those words meant.
“I’m not joking. You’re so sick you can’t even think straight… sigh… I’m ashamed that my self-control is only this much. I’m not the me from back when Hong-seo slept over in our guest room for the first time.”
“……”
“Looking at you… I can’t guarantee I won’t do anything perverted, so please accept this much, just lying here.”
There was someone who, while suppressing his desires for Choi Hong-seo, whom countless people treated like a piece of meat, suffered from guilt. This must be love. He was happy to be able to learn it now. He would never regret this happiness. No matter what came his way.
It was still raining heavily. The thunder and lightning seemed to have stopped, but he could see the shadows of the rain streaks through the window, which had not had its blinds drawn.
Even curled up on his side, his broad back was like a generous sheet of paper, permitted for anything to be written upon.
I… am… looking… at… you.
“I told you I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t be tempted by looking at you.”
This time, slowly, without lifting his finger, he drew a large heart.
“Don’t provoke me, I warned you?”
His stern voice, as if he were angry, made him laugh instead.
Kiss, kiss… please.
=3=
After that, he drew an emoticon he sometimes used for aegyo in messages. It was a shape of lips kissing, one of his favorite emoticons.
“Are you sleeping well, Mister? Oh, yes, my baby, sleep well too. You need to sleep to get better quickly.”
Choi Hong-seo’s laughter grew slightly louder than before at his deliberate misinterpretation.
His slender, long fingers once again tiptoed across Lee Hae-sung’s back.
I… want… to… sleep… with… you…
“Ah… this is too easy too.”
He jumped in to guess the answer before the sentence was even finished.
“Mister, I love you. Please marry me.”
It was another incorrect, nonsensical answer, but Choi Hong-seo couldn’t laugh this time. Hearing no laughter and seeing his hand, which had been tickling his back, stop moving, he finally looked back over his shoulder at Choi Hong-seo.
“Why? Is it wrong? Did I get it wrong?”
He gazed at his profile, its sharp angles illuminated by the faint light reflecting from the window.
“You can’t… get married.”
“……”
He let out a sulky voice, like a complaint he hadn’t intended, and turned his head away in regret. The moment he did, he sat up.
“Why can’t I? You said it yourself. I can do anything.”
His voice was not calm either. It sounded like suppressed anger, but it wasn’t anger directed at Choi Hong-seo, of course.
Feeling like he had said something foolish, Choi Hong-seo, looking elsewhere, cautiously turned his gaze back to him.
He didn’t know any other way to tempt him, a more sophisticated or purer method. He gently stroked his arm, which was resting on the sheets, his sleeve rolled up below the elbow, and pulled it loosely. He pulled back the covers, revealing his body, which he had wiped down, to him.
“I won’t be greedy for marriage, or anything like that…”
“You really…”
Frowning, he lunged onto Choi Hong-seo’s body like a sleek beast attacking its prey. Pinning both his wrists on the pillow, his eyes gleamed as he looked down. Though he looked as if he would devour the person beneath him as he pleased, he was still fighting his conscience. The conscience, which he called ‘self-loathing,’ that he couldn’t touch the person he loved while they were sick.
Choi Hong-seo turned his head and kissed the inside of his wrist, where his hands were pinning his own. He rubbed his nose against it and then his cheek.
“I know you’re sick. But even though you’re sick… I… when you’re next to me, I think of those things too. I get hotter… than from the fever. I do too.”
Sigh…
With a deep sigh, his head drooped. He, who had been hovering above Choi Hong-seo without pressing down, slowly leaned his upper body down. He kissed his forehead, then his nose, and then his lips, staying there for a while as if taking his temperature. Choi Hong-seo was the one who first extended his hot tongue to lick his lips.
“If you have to go on stage sick like this… how will I deal with that self-loathing?”
“I’ve been on stage sick many times.”
Even as he spoke, he continued to lick his lips. Perhaps from nursing him through his light sleep, his lips were rough and dry. He gazed at Choi Hong-seo from under his lowered eyelids.
“It’s different when it’s because of me.”
“I… think it would be good.”
“……”
“To be sick on stage because of you, and for people to see me like that…”
His lips slowly parted. His tongue emerged, licking behind Choi Hong-seo’s tongue, whispering deeply and sweetly.
“Whose boyfriend is Choi Hong-seo.”
“Mmm…”
“Who he sleeps with.”
“Hee, yes.”
“Everyone will see.”
Rubbing his tongue against his, and slightly taking his thicker tongue into his mouth, Choi Hong-seo’s breathing became hurried.
“Will you show them… I want people to see that I’m sick after sleeping with you.”
Hmm… He groaned heavily, his face contorted as if feeling pain from a deep wound. Finally, his penis, pressing down on Choi Hong-seo’s lower abdomen, was also bulging and heavy.