Chapter 9: The Kiss

Study, he said. Taehyuk stroked his chin, recalling how Jinho had seemed reluctant to accept Yeryeong’s help. He’d come up with a plausible excuse, but he couldn’t fully explain the 180-degree shift in attitude over just a few days.

Taehyuk didn’t want to show his weakened state to Yeryeong—that was one thing. But the moment he thought that Jinho, who already spent so little time at home, would be out even more, irritation flared up. Normally, Jinho would have backed down by now, but this time he clamped his mouth shut stubbornly, as if refusing to lose.

Taehyuk didn’t like the situation no matter how he thought about it, but this time he decided to yield. It wasn’t that he completely disliked spending time with Yeryeong, and Jinho really was at an age where he should be worrying about employment. Still, he didn’t like the idea of Jinho being out all day, so he insisted on giving up the study café. When Jinho readily nodded, Taehyuk found it endearing—how quickly he stopped being stubborn and listened to him.

Dawn, while Jinho was asleep. Leaning against the bed, Taehyuk looked down at Jinho, who was clutching his leg tightly as he lay there, lost in thought.

Thanks to regular treatment from his doctor during the hours Jinho was away, his wound had almost completely healed, and the paralysis was nearly gone. He’d also gathered evidence against the treacherous elders and captured the men who’d tried to kill him. In other words, he no longer had any reason to stay here.

Normally, that fact should have brought him relief. But instead, Taehyuk found himself deep in thought. For the first time in his life—aside from matters involving Yeryeong—he was feeling reluctant to let something end. As he tried to analyze these incomprehensible feelings, Jinho, who’d been sleeping soundly, hoisted his thigh up onto Taehyuk’s leg and pressed even closer.

“So carefree.”

Taehyuk felt a sudden irritation at Jinho, who slept so peacefully unlike himself. So he did something he hadn’t done in a while—he lifted Jinho’s body off his leg and pushed him away. The kid, who’d been still, began to whimper softly.

“No, no… please… save me… I also…”

His faint sobs and flailing arms desperately searching for the lost warmth were pitiful. The slurred, muffled pronunciation clearly showed it was just sleep-talk—saying the same things as always: don’t abandon me, please let me live. Despite having been the one to tease him, Taehyuk felt sorry for him. After watching for a moment, he raised his hand, stroked Jinho’s head, and lay down beside him.

“Shh… don’t cry, stray mutt.”

He lifted Jinho’s round head and slipped his arm underneath, pulling the warmth-seeking creature into an embrace. Though Jinho was a grown adult male, he fit perfectly into Taehyuk’s arms without any trouble, since Taehyuk’s build far exceeded the average. Cradled securely, Jinho stopped crying as if by magic and started sniffling. Taehyuk stroked his waist and chuckled quietly. What an adorable creature.

As he murmured and closed his eyes, just about to fall asleep, Jinho’s lips uttered his name.

“Taehyuk…”

Taehyuk opened his eyes and looked down at Jinho.

Their foreheads touched—Jinho, who was using his arm as a pillow. Close. Taehyuk thought that, but made no move to pull his head away. And he felt a new impulse toward Jinho that he’d never experienced before.

It was strange. Even though Taehyuk himself was bisexual, he’d always been drawn to more delicate types like Yeryeong, rather than sturdy men like Jinho.

Was it because he was a stray mutt? Jinho was the only person who’d ever made Taehyuk feel like keeping someone by his side like a pet. That charm seemed to transcend his usual preferences. Yet even as he thought that, Taehyuk couldn’t quite define his feelings for Jinho. He clearly liked him—but it was ambiguous, not quite romantic affection.

Just as Taehyuk was about to fall into confusion, Jinho called him again.

“Hyeong… I also…”

As Jinho clung to him, muttering, his soft body pressing close—Taehyuk felt his brain freeze in that moment. As if bewitched, he captured Jinho’s lips with his own. Jinho’s lips, still murmuring, were parted slightly, so Taehyuk could feel not only the slightly rough lips but also the soft flesh inside all at once.

“Mmm… ngh…”

Taehyuk slipped his tongue into the defenselessly open mouth. Carefully sweeping the roof of the mouth, teasing the gums, he dove deeper the moment he touched Jinho’s still tongue. Then, pulling closer, he sucked on the soft tongue. He knew he should stop—but he couldn’t.

Jinho’s mouth was soft and warm. Even in his sleep, he occasionally let out small moans, and as Taehyuk pressed in, Jinho seemed to struggle for breath—his weak hands pushing against Taehyuk’s chest only stimulated him further.

The wet sounds filling the room continued for a long while, only ending when Jinho, unable to bear the relentless stimulation, turned his head away. Taehyuk then pulled Jinho back into his arms, patted his whimpering hip, and smirked. Because he was already looking forward to the evenings ahead.

It had already been three days since Taehyuk started having dinner with Yeryeong. Strangely, he couldn’t relax as easily as he did with Jinho. On top of that, the quiet mealtimes—so unfamiliar after all this time—didn’t sit well with him. What were those few weeks, really? The clinking of utensils felt unusually loud, and eventually, Taehyuk set down his chopsticks and turned his gaze to Yeryeong sitting across from him.

Unlike Jinho, who never stopped talking, Yeryeong was considerate—speaking only occasionally, mostly eating in silence. After the meal, he’d flash a bright smile and start chatting about various topics. Before they knew it, it would be time for Yeryeong to leave.

This pattern wasn’t bad. But it wasn’t good either. Rather…

Taehyuk, continuing his thoughts, noticed Yeryeong’s gaze and smiled back at him when their eyes met, shaking off the absurd thought that had just crossed his mind.

That he preferred the noisy dinners with Jinho. It must have been just a thought born from the awkwardness and tension of this silence. There was no way that was true. Choi Taehyuk shook his head and picked up his chopsticks again. Yeryeong, noticing he’d stopped eating, asked in a worried tone if the food wasn’t to his taste.

After Yeryeong left, Taehyuk worked out while waiting for Jinho. But only his body was moving—his mind was completely filled with that kiss with Jinho. It had been like that every night since the kiss. Taehyuk himself found it ridiculous that he was acting like a lovesick teenager who’d just had his first kiss, but the more he tried to shake it off, the more persistently the memory came back.

His palate seemed sensitive—today I’ll torment him a bit more. If he’s like this in his sleep, his reaction when awake must be even cuter. Taking him along when I return to the organization wouldn’t be bad. I won’t make him work—I’ll just keep him by my side. And I’ll keep kissing him until he begs me to stop… Taehyuk continued these thoughts as he did push-up after push-up, losing count.

This is strange. Lately, when I wake up in the morning, my lips are tingly and red. Did I develop a habit of mashing them in my sleep? Just in case, I asked Choi Taehyuk if I talk in my sleep badly at night, and he shook his head.

What is it? After shaking his head, the subtle upward curl at the corner of his mouth made me feel uneasy. But since I don’t like worrying about too many things, I just told myself—he even shook his head, so it must be nothing—and brushed it off. That was the problem.

“Uh… what do I do?”

Big trouble. It’s already embarrassing enough that I had a wet dream at this age—but when I woke up… I was standing at attention. It’s not an everyday morning thing—this is a real erection.

If I were alone, I’d have cursed and headed to the bathroom, but right now, that bastard Choi Taehyuk was sound asleep right next to me. To get to the bathroom, I’d have to climb over him. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem, but right now my body was way too sensitive.

If I accidentally brushed against him while climbing over and let out a moan… I might get beaten to death for making weird noises. If I woke up to find a grown man with soaked underwear, one leg draped over me, making strange sounds—even I’d want to beat him senseless.

First, stay calm, Kim Jinho. No matter how much I rack my brain, the only option is to cross over while Choi Taehyuk is asleep and dash to the bathroom. So before he wakes up, I need to quickly—

“You awake?”

…f*ck. I was curled up with my back to him, and I froze in that position. That bastard, who’d been strangely talkative lately, was using that honey-sweet voice to acknowledge me. Aaah! Don’t whisper in my ear! It tickles and feels weird!

“Ah… yes. But I’m going back to sleep!”

“Hm?”

“Mmm, so sleepy. Mmm-hmm…”

I’d racked my brain and come up with that response to try and salvage the situation, but even I had to admit—the acting was so clumsy it was laughable. Thank god they don’t test social skills on the CSAT. If they did, I wouldn’t have gotten into college… No, this isn’t the time for escapism.

I barely held onto my sanity, which was about to flee from sheer embarrassment. Clumsy or not, I’m saying I’m sleepy and going back to sleep—what can he do about it? If I just lie here for a while, it’ll go down. Thinking that, I started mentally reciting the national anthem to calm myself down—when I felt warmth at my back, behind my curled-up body.

A siren went off in my head. I barely stopped myself from opening my eyes in panic and curled up even tighter, trying to move away from that warmth. I’m asleep. I’m asleep, okay. This is just sleep-talking, so don’t pay attention and just go away, please!

“Are you feeling unwell?”

“Huh?”

Despite pretending to be asleep, I answered reflexively the moment he spoke. I’m an idiot. A completely hopeless idiot.

“No, your posture—”

“Ah… Ah, yes! My stomach hurts right now. I’m fine, so go do what you need to do, hyung!”

The pretense of sleep seemed lost, so I changed tactics. I racked my brain again. If he just drops it, that’s thank-you-very-much. If he keeps showing concern, I’ll ask him to get me some medicine and send him out, then escape to the bathroom in the meantime. Okay, perfect!

“Stomach… Lie down straight.”

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