Chapter 86: After The Longest Night

‘Han-geon….’

He opened his eyes reflexively.

His surroundings were still dark, hazy like a dream, but the moment he heard the thin sound of sobbing near his ear, all sleep vanished.

Han-geon bolted upright and, even in the darkness, instinctively searched the child’s face.

Tears were pouring nonstop from between Eun-gyeol’s tightly shut eyelids.

His flushed cheeks were soaked through as he cried, miserable and heartbroken.

Without thinking, Han-geon pulled the small body into his arms.

The little, tear-smeared face immediately rubbed against his chest.

Pitifully, Eun-gyeol’s hair was drenched with sweat.

‘…Eun-gyeol, it’s okay.

It’s okay.’

With the clumsy tenderness of a child, Han-geon’s thick, small hand awkwardly patted him.

‘Did you have a nightmare?’

Eun-gyeol didn’t answer.

He only buried his face in Han-geon’s chest and cried.

Even though the body supporting him was nothing more than an immature thirteen-year-old’s, Eun-gyeol clung to Han-geon desperately, as though he were his protector.

‘Han-geon, don’t leave me….’

A plea mixed into the sorrowing sobs.

‘Never… never leave me.’

What kind of terrible dream had he had?

Or perhaps, without Han-geon knowing, a reality worse than a nightmare had tormented him.

Had his mother come by again…?

Stray thoughts drifted chaotically through his mind, but Han-geon didn’t ask anything.

He only continued to pat Eun-gyeol’s damp back and gently stroke his hair.

‘Okay.

Don’t worry.’

‘You can’t… you absolutely can’t.

We’re going to stay friends until we die… okay?’

Facing Eun-gyeol, who was trying to wring a promise from him through sobs, Han-geon answered without hesitation.

‘Yeah.

Don’t worry.

I told you I’d protect you, didn’t I?

You know I’ve been going to taekwondo class really seriously lately, right?’

At those words, Eun-gyeol seemed to stop crying almost immediately.

After crying his heart out, maybe he felt embarrassed by his behavior, because he couldn’t even look Han-geon in the face.

So Han-geon deliberately poked at him playfully.

Even with his swollen face, Eun-gyeol didn’t back down and fought back.

When he was ten, it seemed like a light tap would knock him over, but at thirteen, Eun-gyeol had grown noticeably stronger.

If Han-geon wasn’t careful, he could even get pushed back a little.

‘Not a chance.’

Still, once Han-geon grabbed his waist and toppled him onto the bed, victory was his.

If he climbed onto Eun-gyeol’s thighs and tickled his side, Eun-gyeol surrendered one hundred percent of the time.

“Hahaha, I surrender, I surrender,” he said, laughing.

The wrestling match that had started out of nowhere at dawn only ended when both boys were utterly exhausted, their hair completely soaked with sweat.

‘Haa… haa… ha….’

‘Did we make too much noise…?

What if Auntie and Uncle wake up?’

‘Don’t worry.

Can’t you hear them snoring?’

Han-geon said that with a giggle, jerking his chin toward the closed door.

Eun-gyeol went quiet and listened, then smiled faintly.

‘You’re right.

They’re both snoring really loudly.’

‘I told you.

You could carry them out on your back and they wouldn’t notice.’

The two boys looked at each other and burst into stifled laughter again.

When Han-geon said, “Let’s sleep again now,” Eun-gyeol smiled prettily and answered, “Okay.”

They turned the fan up to the highest setting and lay sprawled out side by side.

Then sleep came drifting back to them.

‘You can hear the snoring, right?

You hear it?’

That was something Han-geon always said to reassure Eun-gyeol.

But this time, the voice saying it didn’t belong to the young Han-geon of those memories.

It belonged to the fully grown Eun-gyeol.

Startled, Han-geon tried to turn his head.

No—he tried to.

But then…

‘f*ck, Han-geon, haa… yeah.

I love f*cking you.

I love it so much I’m going crazy.’

His body went rigid, unable to turn around.

Eun-gyeol’s voice, raw and feral, slithered unpleasantly against his ear.

At the same time, his chest churned with unease.

The edges of the heart that had softened in nostalgic warmth stiffened all at once.

‘Is this not enough?

Huh?

Do we really have to complicate things, f*ck, worry about all that shit?

I like it too, don’t I…?’

His once steady heartbeat began to race madly.

His lips trembled like a dying butterfly.

The body pressing him down mercilessly with pheromones settled heavily onto his back.

The weight with which Eun-gyeol had not just used his body, but his entire being, to overwhelm him resurfaced vividly, and his breath caught hard.

How had it ended again?

The end of that memory sagged like the pages of a soaked book.

Strangely, he couldn’t recall that moment clearly.

But the sensation of his chest hurting so badly he thought he might die—that alone was breathing vividly inside him.

He didn’t want to repeat a pain he already knew.

He tried to escape.

He struggled desperately to get away from Eun-gyeol, who was pressing him down with all his strength.

Mustering every ounce of power, he tore himself free and crawled forward.

Behind him, Cha Eun-gyeol let out a cold, mocking laugh.

A hand like a shackle clamped hot around his ankle.

The force with which Eun-gyeol dragged him back couldn’t even be compared to the strength he’d had when they’d wrestled as kids.

‘I like that you’re a Beta.

No matter how much I come inside you, there’s no worry about you getting pregnant.’

That sweet, poisonous voice whispered the words into his ear.

The last sentence flew at him like a noose and slipped around his neck.

In that instant, his airway closed.

Panting raggedly, Han-geon shook his head.

The words clung to his ears like leeches, burrowing relentlessly inward.

No matter how hard he shook his head to throw them off, it was useless.

Like insects that had penetrated deep inside, those words reached his mind in an instant and began to gnaw at it.

I like that you’re a Beta.

No worry about getting pregnant.

No worry about getting pregnant.

No worry about getting pregnant.

No worry about getting pregnant….

“…Geon-ah.”

“Hh—uhh…!”

“Geon-ah.

Han-geon!”

The voice calling his name wasn’t Eun-gyeol’s.

The moment he realized that, Han-geon snapped his eyes open.

“Hhk—hk—haah…!”

“Choi Han-geon!”

The liquid-blurred world, as if he’d been submerged in water, gradually came into focus.

The arms that had been flailing through the air were caught in a firm grip.

His chest, heaving with ragged breaths, was still trembling violently.

Only after several seconds did Han-geon register where he was, what he was doing, and who it was that had woken him.

“…Hyung… haah, hk….”

“Hey, you—seriously.

Look at all this sweat.”

Jinwoo hurriedly pulled out tissues and handed them to him.

Only then did Han-geon realize he was lying in bed facing him and tried to sit up.

But Jinwoo quickly pressed him back down.

“Don’t get up.

You look like you’re about to die.”

“Hyung….”

“Han-geon, are you really not sick or something?”

Jinwoo’s face, looking down at him, was full of worry.

“Your face is ghost-white, you suddenly show up and sleep for two days straight, and you won’t tell me properly what’s going on even if I die trying to ask…

What, am I supposed to not worry?”

“…I’m sorry.”

“You little—forget it.

That’s not why I’m saying all this anyway.”

Even though he grumbled, the hand wiping Han-geon’s forehead with the tissues he’d pulled out was gentle.

Jinwoo-hyung had been a teammate from Han-geon’s previous company.

Among a tightly knit team, he’d been the one closest to Han-geon, and when Han-geon quit, he’d been especially regretful.

It was from him that Han-geon had recently received contact.

It had been around the time Han-geon had decided he needed to end his life with Eun-gyeol, about a month ago.

Jinwoo had brought unexpected news.

‘Right after you left, the boss and our team lead had a huge fight.

Over salary issues—hyung took the hit for all of us.

In the end, we all scattered.

Hyung took Youngchan and moved to another company, and you know how I’d always said I wanted to go back to my hometown and start my own business?

I just did it a bit earlier.

I just opened not long ago, man.

If you’ve got time, come visit.’

Jinwoo had opened a surf shop.

Born and raised by the sea, he’d always loved surfing, and at his invitation, Han-geon had gone to his hometown several times to learn from him.

That was when Han-geon had carefully asked if there were any decent guesthouses or inns nearby for long-term stays.

When Jinwoo asked in surprise what was going on, Han-geon had only replied that he was exhausted and wanted to rest for a few months.

Jinwoo had readily made a suggestion.

‘What guesthouse?

Just stay at my place.’

‘No, hyung.

That’s too much—’

‘I’m lonely too.

My parents moved up near my sister in Seoul because of my dad’s hospital visits, so I’m living alone right now.

Honestly, I think I’d be more grateful if you came.

Yeah?

Han-geon, don’t feel pressured.

Just think about it.’

He’d said that since he’d just started his business and all his friends had moved to Seoul, he was pretty lonely by himself, so they should live together for a while.

After being urged several times, Han-geon had decided to stay with Jinwoo, even if only for a few days.

Jinwoo had welcomed him warmly when he arrived a day earlier than planned.

But upon seeing how deathly pale Han-geon looked, he’d quickly grown serious and started asking what was wrong, whether he was sick.

‘Hyung, I’m really sorry.

I hate to ask, but… I feel so bad physically right now.

Could I sleep a little and tell you later?’

He’d pleaded like that with a face that looked half-dead.

Though startled, Jinwoo had readily given him a neatly kept, cozy room.

After barely managing to wash up, Han-geon had collapsed onto the bed and fallen straight into a deep sleep, unable to think about anything.

Sometime in the morning, Jinwoo had gently woken him and told him to eat.

He couldn’t even remember what he’d replied.

Without eating, he’d fallen asleep again.

Like someone who hadn’t slept in a long time.

His completely depleted body demanded sleep endlessly.

That was how he slept for two days straight.

Eun-gyeol had appeared in his dreams here and there.

But this was the first time the dream had felt so vivid, as if Eun-gyeol were right in front of him.

After finally steadying his breathing, Han-geon wiped his forehead and opened the eyes he’d been squeezing shut.

“Let’s eat.”

Jinwoo, who had patiently waited by his side until he calmed down, spoke.

As if he’d decided not to ask anything more, Jinwoo’s tone was light and clear.

Facing his grin, Han-geon returned a very faint smile.

“…Yes, hyung.”

He got up and went downstairs.

The comforting smell of kimchi stew drifted through the air.

When he sat at the table, the sea with crashing waves and the blue sky spread out beyond the open window.

The distant, gentle sound of waves and the salty scent brushing his nose.

An involuntary sigh of admiration escaped him.

It was a view he hadn’t been able to hear or see when he’d arrived here late at night like a fugitive just days ago.

“The view… it’s amazing, hyung.”

“Right?”

The side dishes and stew Jinwoo served were delicious.

Maybe because he hadn’t eaten for two days, but as Han-geon wolfed down his food, Jinwoo scooped him another bowl of rice.

Sitting across from him, eating and chatting quietly, Han-geon felt a warm heat slowly, little by little, seep back into his hollowed-out body.