* * *
Even though Haebom had told him to hurry up and finish, Wonho had meticulously washed every inch of his body.
Frustrated beyond words, Haebom bit down on Wonho’s hand—hard enough to make an audible crunch.
Even if Wonho was an Esper, his fingers weren’t as tough as stone.
But Wonho, seemingly satisfied with how clean Haebom was, quickly rinsed himself off and then wrapped Haebom tightly in a large towel, cocooning him like a silkworm before carrying him out.
Haebom, utterly spent, didn’t complain or resist.
Even speaking required energy at this point.
“…Water.”
Wrapped snugly in the oversized towel, Haebom mumbled weakly.
It was such a tiny murmur, but somehow, Wonho heard it.
Without a word, he carried Haebom downstairs.
He had originally intended to set him down on the bed, but the sight of the sheets—still damp from everything Haebom had spilled earlier—made him change his mind.
He couldn’t lay him down there, not after finally getting him clean.
So he carried him downstairs instead.
Haebom, having asked for water, started dozing off on the way down.
Once they reached the kitchen, Wonho pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, poured it into a glass, and paused for a moment in thought.
Then, instead of placing Haebom on a chair, he sat down himself and pulled Haebom onto his lap.
Despite the numerous chairs available, he had chosen to seat Haebom on himself.
Supporting his head against his shoulder, he gently roused the drowsy Haebom.
Letting him sleep might have been the kinder choice, but he had asked for water, and Wonho figured he should at least drink some before passing out.
“You said you wanted water.”
“…Mmh, yeah. I wanna drink…”
Obediently, Haebom parted his lips, letting Wonho feed him the water.
Or at least, that was the plan.
But for some reason, the water kept dribbling out, spilling past his lips and trailing down his chin.
“Haa… you can’t even drink properly. Open your mouth.”
Because he couldn’t fully open his eyes, he seemed to spill more than he drank.
In the end, Wonho pulled the cup away from Haebom’s lips.
Haebom frowned, frustrated that he couldn’t properly quench his thirst.
But just as Wonho instructed, he obediently opened his mouth.
Something soft brushed against his lips.
Before he could question what it was, lukewarm water flowed into his mouth.
He swallowed it down immediately.
It wasn’t a large amount, but it was much better than drinking clumsily and spilling everywhere.
The temperature was comforting, too.
His eyes fluttered shut as he parted his lips again, making a small “ah” sound.
A chuckle followed.
He was about to ask why he was being laughed at, but before he could speak, his lips were sealed again.
After about five rounds of this, he finally had enough.
Instead of asking for more, Haebom buried his face against Wonho’s shoulder and, as if surrendering to exhaustion, fell into a deep sleep.
“…Ah…”
Before he even opened his eyes, a groan escaped his lips.
The moment he stirred from sleep, his entire body screamed in protest.
He really didn’t want to feel this pain, yet there it was.
Damn it, Wonho…
No, actually, this wasn’t Wonho’s fault.
The biggest problem here was himself.
Why the hell did he have to confirm it like that…?
“Ah…! The wound…!”
His voice came out cracked and dry, but that wasn’t what mattered.
Wonho had distracted him so thoroughly that he never got the chance to check.
The moment his eyes snapped open, the first thing he saw was, unsurprisingly, Wonho’s chest.
The man was still fast asleep, holding him tightly.
Without hesitation, Haebom started running his hands over Wonho’s body.
Normally, he would never do something like this, but right now, he had to.
The wound… Where was the wound…?
“It’s gone…!”
“What the hell are you doing first thing in the morning, Yoon Haebom? You feeling me up because you want to go another round?”
“H-Hic! Hiccup…!”
Startled, Haebom hiccupped. If he was awake, he should’ve said something!
Why did he have to scare him like that?
He glared at Wonho, but something felt different.
Wonho, who had always seemed somewhat pitiful, was starting to feel more like… a real person.
And without even realizing it, Haebom himself was treating him that way.
Wonho chuckled and pulled Haebom’s wandering hands away.
“Hey…!”
“…Wonho.”
Wonho tilted his head at the sudden call of his name.
He was looking at Haebom with an unimpressed expression.
Oh.
Haebom let out a small noise of realization.
Wonho didn’t like being called “hey.”
It was funny because the first person to call Haebom that when he came here was none other than Wonho himself.
But now that Haebom was doing it, he was making that face?
That wasn’t fair.
“Yeah, yeah, I know you’re Wonho. That’s not the point. Let go of me. Now.”
Haebom tried to sound firm, but his expression betrayed him.
He was anything but.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t aware of that himself.
Wonho barely held back a laugh.
If he laughed now, Haebom would definitely escape from his arms.
“You weren’t gonna do anything, so why were you feeling me up? Are you some kind of pervert?”
Wonho’s tone was gruff, but he didn’t actually mind.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t thinking about doing something, but he was holding back—for Haebom’s sake.
And now, after being the one to touch him first, Haebom had the audacity to act like Wonho was the pervert?
The absurdity was almost amusing.
If anything, this might just be an excuse to push things further…
“I-I was just checking your wound! I only touched you to make sure it was healed, so let go already.”
“Oh, the wound? Yeah, it’s all healed. Thanks to you, Yoon Haebom. You guided me, remember?”
Wonho already knew that was why Haebom had touched him.
He had been awake long before Haebom, listening to every little mumble in his sleep.
But teasing Haebom was too much fun—especially when he got all flustered like this.
“Did you confirm everything?”
Haebom quickly withdrew his hand, and Wonho clicked his tongue in disappointment, watching him.
Haebom muttered under his breath about how he had already checked and there was nothing there.
Wonho let out an amused huff before finally sitting up.
“…Where are you going?”
“Why? You gonna follow me? Don’t bother. Just stay put. If you try to get out of bed, I’ll hook you up to an IV again. Keep you from moving.”
The moment Wonho stood up, Haebom instinctively tried to sit up as well.
But before he could, Wonho pressed a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
He applied just enough pressure to keep him down without hurting him.
Wonho always adjusted his strength when dealing with regular people, but he was especially careful with Haebom.
Though, up until now, there hadn’t been much reason to touch him in the first place.
“Stay still.”
Haebom frowned in frustration, but Wonho only reinforced his warning before leaving the room.
Left alone, Haebom grumbled under his breath.
“‘Stay still,’ my ass. What am I, a dog? If anything, Wonho’s the dog, not me…! Ugh…”
He muttered complaints to himself until, suddenly, a memory from last night surfaced—Wonho biting his chest.
His face burned.
Of all the things to randomly remember, why that?
Now embarrassed for no reason, he turned over in bed, only to let out a groan.
Lying still, he hadn’t noticed, but the moment he moved, his whole body ached.
This was worse than the day he had the IV.
That day, things ended quickly because he was in too much pain.
But last night…
Last night, Wonho didn’t stop, no matter how many times Haebom told him to.
And on top of that, the guiding was cut off partway through.
This wasn’t guiding—it was practically…!
“S-Stop thinking about it, Yoon Haebom! Are you insane? You’re not a pervert…!”
Haebom groaned as he pulled the blanket over his head, slapping his own cheeks.
The stinging pain helped ground him a little.
Come to think of it, this wasn’t Wonho’s room. It was his own.
* * *
