* * *

Wonbeom, who had taken off his shirt and was waiting for the doctor, looked a bit surprised when Jingyeom showed up.

He had only asked for a break to call the doctor, but he hadn’t expected to be found out so quickly.

“…”

Jingyeom didn’t care about Wonbeom’s surprise and began to examine his body.

There were numerous dark bruises, and a red stain on the white gauze stuck to his side showed that blood had seeped through.

Just looking at the state of Wonbeom’s body made Jingyeom’s face harden.

The doctor felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles. It wasn’t just that he was stuck between the two, seemingly forgotten.

The awkward atmosphere between them made him feel uncomfortable too, and he wanted to leave as soon as possible.

But as a doctor, he had a job to do, so he approached Wonbeom.

Given the amount of blood that had seeped through, the pain must have been quite intense, but Wonbeom didn’t show it, continuing to watch Jingyeom instead.

Jingyeom couldn’t take his eyes off the blood-stained gauze on Wonbeom’s side. Just looking at it made him wince as if he could feel the pain himself.

The doctor, after placing his bag on the floor, looked for the right moment to start treating him.

Jingyeom quietly spoke up.

“You should get treated quickly. I’ll step outside. Let me know when you’re done.”

Without waiting for a response, Jingyeom left the room.

“…Ha.”

As the door fully closed, Wonbeom let out a low sigh.

His injuries weren’t exactly a secret, but he hadn’t planned on showing them off either.

He hadn’t expected Jingyeom to see his battered body the moment he walked in.

The doctor scratched his head, looking apologetic, as he explained himself.

“I didn’t mean to bring him along… I just bumped into him in the living room, and when he asked where I was going, I sort of… slipped.”

“It’s fine. Let’s just get on with the treatment.”

Wonbeom said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

He had made sure Jingyeom was in his room before calling for the doctor, but apparently, he had gone back out to the living room.

Neither of them spoke while the doctor treated him.

Once he finished, the doctor advised Wonbeom to move carefully and, if possible, avoid leaving the bed until his wound fully healed.

After all, it had only been a short time since his surgery, and resting would ensure the wound healed properly.

When the doctor left the room, Jingyeom, who had been leaning against the wall, looking down at the floor, lifted his head.

His eyes were moist, as if he were on the verge of tears.

“…Is my brother really not doing well?”

“As long as the sutures heal properly, he’ll be fine.”

“But his body had so many bruises and cuts…”

“Those will heal over time. He just needs to be careful with his side. Ideally, he should rest in bed for a few days.”

Jingyeom nodded slowly in understanding.

“Alright.”

After the doctor left, Jingyeom hesitated at the door, unsure whether to go inside or just let Wonbeom rest, as the doctor had advised.

But his hesitation didn’t last long.

Before he could make a decision, Wonbeom opened the door.

“Why are you just standing there? Aren’t you coming in?”

“…I thought I’d be in the way if I stayed.”

“Not at all. Come in.”

Wonbeom stepped aside, giving him room to enter.

Jingyeom took a deep breath and stepped inside the room.

“Aren’t you going to put on some clothes?”

“I will, but it hurts when I stretch my side. Can you grab some clothes from that bag for me?”

Since he’d been caught anyway, Wonbeom figured it was better to ask Jingyeom for help than risk straining his newly stitched wound, so he pointed at his bag.

Jingyeom retrieved a shirt from the bag and handed it to him.

As Wonbeom put on the shirt, Jingyeom looked away, giving him some privacy.

When the rustling sounds stopped, Jingyeom cautiously spoke.

“Earlier, you said you got into a fight… Is that why you got hurt?”

“Yeah.”

“…Were you stabbed?”

The fact that his wound needed suturing meant it must have been a cut, and knowing what kind of person Wonbeom was, a knife naturally came to mind.

Wonbeom raised an eyebrow, and Jingyeom’s mouth fell open as he realized.

“You really were stabbed?”

Jingyeom asked cautiously, but when it turned out to be true, he was so surprised that he grabbed both of Wonbeom’s hands tightly.

Hearing that someone he knew had been stabbed was a big shock, far more intense than reading about it or seeing it on screen.

Wonbeom, with a slight smirk, pulled Jingyeom by the arm and sat him down beside him on the bed.

Jingyeom still looked wide-eyed, seemingly unable to shake off the shock.

It was understandable for an ordinary person to be so startled, but Wonbeom had long since grown numb to such things, making Jingyeom’s reaction seem fresh and even a little endearing.

“You noticed right away, probably because you’ve seen so many movies,” Wonbeom said playfully, placing a hand on his side. Jingyeom’s face instantly scrunched up.

“Then you shouldn’t be here; you should be in the hospital!”

“What I need right now is rest. If I go to the hospital, too many people will come to visit, and I won’t be able to rest properly.”

“…I suppose that’s true,” Jingyeom conceded.

He could imagine how relentless the flow of visitors would be if Wonbeom stayed in the hospital, unlike his own experience.

“So why did you get stabbed? Was it some sort of real gang fight? Like, a corporate turf war?”

“Do you think companies fight turf wars like that?” Wonbeom chuckled in disbelief at Jingyeom’s wild guess.

He couldn’t fathom what went through his friend’s mind to arrive at such an idea.

Unlike his cautious first question, curiosity now seemed to pour out of Jingyeom, his mouth going nonstop.

“Did you do something bad enough to get stabbed?”

“From someone else’s perspective, maybe.”

“Don’t say that. Even if you can’t live perfectly, you shouldn’t do anything bad enough to get stabbed,” Jingyeom lectured earnestly, his expression serious.

Wonbeom felt a strange sensation; Jingyeom was constantly scolding him for various things.

First, it was about his posture at the hospital, and now it was about getting into fights.

Not that it bothered him—it was just unfamiliar having someone who talked to him this way.

“I’ve done so much already that a little more won’t even show.”

“Of course it will! A lot, probably!”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. So from now on, don’t do it anymore!”

“…If that’s even possible.”

“It is possible! …Right?”

Jingyeom, who had been confidently asserting himself, suddenly trailed off.

He knew that despite Wonbeom’s corporate persona, he still had one foot in the underworld.

He couldn’t quite bring himself to say with certainty that it could stop.

“Your answer’s not very convincing,” Wonbeom teased.

“Does my answer even matter? You’re the one who needs to stop!”

Wonbeom was about to push further, but seeing Jingyeom’s awkward attempt to evade the conversation, he decided to drop it.

He preferred seeing Jingyeom’s bright smile to his troubled expression.

“So how do you shower? I couldn’t shower for a while after my surgery.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“You don’t wash at all?”

Wonbeom meant that he would figure out a way to shower, but Jingyeom misunderstood and thought he wasn’t going to wash at all.

Startled, Jingyeom scooted a little further away from him.

Jingyeom frowned deeply as if grappling with a serious dilemma.

His lips were tightly sealed, and his brows furrowed in concentration.

Then, as if reaching a major decision, he puffed out a strong breath and turned to Wonbeom with a determined look.

“I’ll do it for you!”

“…What?”

“I’ll wash you! After surgery, you’re supposed to rest and avoid moving until the wounds heal.”

“And?”

“You’re not supposed to get wet either!”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’ll wash you myself. There’s no one else around to help, right?”

Wonbeom blinked in surprise.

He’d been stabbed and cut many times before, using waterproof bandages or just ignoring the wounds when showering.

No one had ever offered to wash him before, and the thought made him pause.

After a brief hesitation, he nodded since there wasn’t really a reason to refuse.

“Should I start now?” Jingyeom asked, full of enthusiasm, seemingly forgetting that Wonbeom had feelings for him.

Before Wonbeom could respond, Jingyeom rushed into the bathroom and came back with two towels soaked in water.

He had tried to wring them out, but water still dripped from the ends.

Wonbeom glanced at his bandages.

Without waterproof coverings, they were bound to get wet if Jingyeom used the towels.

But seeing Jingyeom so eager to help, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

Jingyeom, noticing the water dripping from the towel, mumbled to himself, “…I’m pretty sure it was drier than this.”

Realizing the towels were too wet, he returned to the bathroom to wring them out properly.

Meanwhile, Wonbeom began to unbutton his shirt but suddenly stopped.

He wondered if it was okay to show Jingyeom his body.

Although Jingyeom had seen his wounds before, this was different—he would be looking at them up close while washing him.

When Wonbeom paused, Jingyeom, holding the damp towel, asked, “Are you hurt? Should I do it for you?”

“…No.”

Wonbeom finished unbuttoning his shirt, feeling an inexplicable confidence that it would be okay for Jingyeom to see his body.

When his shirt came off, Jingyeom tightly pressed his lips together.

He had thought Wonbeom’s injuries looked bad at a glance, but up close, it was much worse.

Not only were there bruises, but also scabs from abrasions, and old scars that hadn’t fully healed.

Jingyeom’s face twisted in discomfort, as if he were in pain.

He had boldly offered to wash Wonbeom, but now, seeing his injuries up close, he was hesitant to even touch him, afraid he might cause more pain.

“You said you’d wash me.”

Jingyeom finally put some strength into his hands, carefully avoiding the wounds as he gently wiped over them.

His expression, however, remained deeply troubled.

“…It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“A little.”

“It doesn’t look like it’s just a little…”

Hearing the sadness in Jingyeom’s voice, Wonbeom tilted his head.

“I’m the one in pain, so why are you the one who looks like you’re about to cry?”

“…Good question.”

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to do it.”

As Wonbeom moved to pull his arm away, Jingyeom hurriedly grabbed it.

Realizing he’d touched a bruise, he quickly let go again.

“Did that hurt?”

“Not really. You’re not strong enough to—ugh.”

Before Wonbeom could finish saying it wouldn’t hurt, Jingyeom pressed on an arm injury from a car accident, making him groan.

“Not strong enough to what?” Jingyeom asked.

“…It hurt.”

“Be careful. Give me the other arm.”

Not wanting another mishap, Wonbeom quickly offered his other arm.

* * *