* * *
Junhee kept his gaze lowered and muttered under his breath.
“…I’m sorry for causing you trouble in so many ways.”
“That’s not what I wanted to hear.”
In a voice barely above a whisper, Junhee responded.
“…Thank you.”
The sudden touch against his cheek made his body flinch.
“I’m not going to hit you.”
Without another word, the man gently stroked Junhee’s swollen cheek.
“It’s going to bruise. Want me to put some medicine on it?”
“Medicine?”
“A cream to reduce the swelling.”
Would it help?
He wasn’t sure.
But it was probably better than doing nothing, so Junhee gave a small nod.
The first thing that crossed his mind was that he had to go to work once the weekend was over.
The reality of being a working adult was inescapable.
“If you give it to me, I’ll apply it myse—”
Before he could finish his sentence, warm lips pressed against his cheek.
His face, already burning, felt like it might catch fire.
“…What are you doing?”
“I’m putting medicine on you.”
“…And that counts as medicine?”
Something damp slipped between the parted lips and wet his cheek.
‘Medicine, my ass.’
If anything, he’d be lucky if he didn’t end up with a rash.
He didn’t even have the energy to push him away.
Instead, he slumped against the pillow, letting the man do as he pleased—smearing saliva all over his cheek before finally pulling away on his own.
He should’ve done that from the start.
A brief silence followed.
Even with his eyes closed, Junhee could feel the man’s gaze blatantly scanning his face.
From the stray strands of hair on his forehead, to the corners of his eyes, down to his swollen cheek, and finally lingering on his closed lips.
His stare was as light as a feather, yet it made Junhee itch all over.
For some reason, it made it even harder to open his eyes.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“I can’t tell if my stomach hurts or if I’m hungry.”
“Probably both.”
That sounded about right.
Junhee heard footsteps fading as the man momentarily left the room.
Only after he was gone did Junhee sit up, propping himself against the headboard.
Before long, the man returned, carrying a tray with clinking plates.
Floating in a pale, watery broth were finely chopped vegetables and small cubes of bread. Vegetable soup.
Junhee hesitated, then asked warily, “…Did you make this yourself?”
“I ordered it. Why? Would you prefer something homemade?”
“No. If you had made it yourself, I wouldn’t have eaten it.”
He wasn’t about to risk his already fragile stomach on food made by someone who looked like they’d never touched a kitchen in their life.
The man gave him an unreadable look, glancing between Junhee and the soup, as if debating whether to dump it in the toilet or hand it over.
The smell of warm soup made his stomach growl.
“…Give it to me.”
With an air of reluctant generosity, the man passed the bowl to Junhee, who proceeded to scrape it clean until the bottom of the dish was visible.
The warmth settled in his stomach, soothing the discomfort.
The man patiently waited until he finished eating before pushing the empty plate aside.
“Want dessert?”
“…I’m full.”
Truthfully, he could still eat a little more, but he had already devoured the soup so quickly that accepting dessert felt embarrassing.
Avoiding the man’s gaze, Junhee lowered his head slightly—only for a basket to be unceremoniously placed on his lap.
“Eat.”
The packaging looked familiar. It was the pineapple pastries the man had brought back from Taiwan.
“…Do you think I’m a pig?”
“Put on some weight before you start talking like that.”
The way he said it made him look like some kind of ruthless farm owner, fattening up livestock for slaughter.
Junhee absentmindedly ran a hand down his face.
It was true that he had lost some weight over the past week.
Work had been hectic, and eating felt like a hassle.
…Not to mention, he had been going through a bit of emotional turmoil.
Despite his words, Junhee reached out, tore open a packet, and popped a piece into his mouth.
The ones he had at home had run out long ago.
He had eaten almost the entire box himself, even though it had seemed like an endless supply.
He never got sick of them.
Whenever he realized it, the pile of empty wrappers in front of him would already be stacked high.
If he had a scale at home, he probably would’ve seen his weight hit its highest point back then.
Letting his mind wander, Junhee continued eating, savoring the pineapple-flavored treat.
And that was when he realized—
This was what he had been craving all along.
“You eat well.”
It hit him then.
He had wanted the man to show up one day, just like this.
To casually drop by his place and—
“We should go on a business trip together, Junhee.”
—bring him these pastries that were so sweet they stung his tongue.
Thunk.
The half-eaten pastry slipped from Junhee’s fingers.
The man absentmindedly brushed away the crumbs that had landed on the white sheets.
“…Don’t say things like that.”
Junhee clenched his teeth, glaring up at him.
“Don’t say things like that so carelessly.”
Dark, unreadable eyes met Junhee’s heated gaze.
His lips twisted slightly, as if to ask, ‘Why?’
“…Aren’t you getting engaged?”
“Oh, that.”
His response was so nonchalant that Junhee wanted to punch himself in the chest.
“To catch a big fish, you need the right bait.”
“…What do you mean?”
Junhee knew exactly who would throw a fit over the man’s engagement.
“You mean… you only did it to get something out of your mother?”
The man’s lips curled, as if suppressing a laugh.
Something about that expression made Junhee feel sick.
“I caught a big one.”
His eyes glinted with a cruel amusement as they shamelessly swept over Junhee’s flushed cheek.
Junhee almost asked why he was looking at him like that.
Then it dawned on him.
“…No way.”
It was absurd to think he would go so far—wrecking his entire household—just to lure Junhee in.
Stunned, Junhee could only blink as the man suddenly closed the distance and captured his lips.
A large hand cupped his cheek, carefully sucking at his lips.
It seemed he was at least aware that Junhee was in pain, but given how his tongue pried its way in, his conscience was only half intact.
Junhee tried to resist, sealing his lips shut—only to wince when sharp pain shot through them.
“…Nngh.”
The man pulled back briefly, his voice thick with restrained desire.
“I won’t eat you up until you’ve put on some weight. So just take what I give you.”
Then his tongue slipped back inside, his breath melting into Junhee’s.
It was warm and sweet, like a sedative that spread through his body.
His stomach was full, his back was cushioned in warmth—yet his breaths still came out hot.
Without needing to pinpoint a single spot, his entire body ached.
Large hands swept over him, soothingly, as if calming the storm that had crashed over Junhee throughout the day.
The lingering sweetness in his mouth made him feel like he might surrender to it.
If, right now, that man were to ask him the same question as before—
“Did you wait for me?”
…He might just be able to nod.
Junhee drifted in and out of sleep multiple times.
What he remembered was that every time he woke up, their lips would meet again.
Even when he turned over to pull the blanket over himself, their lips stuck together.
When he reached out, feeling thirsty, their tongues intertwined once more.
Even when the IV bag emptied and he reached to clamp the tube, lips pressed against his, like a fish drawn to bait scattered on water.
He pushed the other away in his sleep, only to drift off again.
As if making up for countless sleepless nights, he fell into a deep cycle of rest and waking.
“…What time is it?”
Ki Taeryu glanced at the bedside table and answered in a husky voice.
“Four.”
A soft kiss landed on Junhee’s cheek.
“Dawn?”
“Afternoon.”
Just as another kiss aimed for the opposite cheek, Junhee barely dodged it and sat up.
His head felt hazy, and he started counting the hours on his fingers.
‘I went to the hospital in the evening, and when I woke up here, it was around midnight…’
And now, sixteen hours had passed.
Sixteen hours of this.
“I think it’s time to get up.”
As Junhee reached for the bedside lamp, his hand missed its target—not due to dizziness or poor depth perception.
It was because a firm hand had seized his ankle and yanked him downward.
His body slid smoothly along the sheets, and before he could react, a large frame loomed over him.
“…What—”
He quickly placed both hands on the other’s face, pushing him away as their lips aimed for his again.
“Did you die from lack of kisses in your past life or something?”
Ki Taeryu pressed a kiss onto Junhee’s hand and murmured in response.
“If you didn’t like it, you shouldn’t have been born looking like this.”
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
“Just a little more.”
Despite having spent the night biting, sucking, and licking, he now pretended to be pitiful, whispering with desperate longing.
His dark, glossy eyes swirled with barely restrained desire.
…As if that would work on him.
Junhee, trying to check if his lips were still intact, ran his tongue lightly over his swollen lower lip.
That was his mistake.
“Shit, Junhee… licking like that is cheating.”
“Mm—!”
Before he could react, a face descended abruptly, devouring his lips once more.
He flailed in protest, but strong hands pinned his shoulders, gradually easing their grip as soft licks trailed over his lips.
His tension started to melt, but the positioning was unbearably uncomfortable.
Especially since the thighs bracketing his own were pressing too intimately against his navel.
The heat and hardness radiating from that spot made Junhee’s breath hitch.
“Want me to take it out?”
As if reading his mind, the man’s fingers teasingly toyed with his waistband.
“Are… Are you crazy?”
“You were staring so intently. Thought you might be curious.”
Junhee immediately averted his gaze and squeezed his eyes shut, earning a breathy chuckle against his eyelids.
“If you ever get curious, just say the word.”
* * *
