* * *
Around the time I hit puberty, I found myself looking at Jehee’s body with more attention.
There were plenty of chances.
I spent almost every evening with Jehee, and every spare moment.
There were many times I helped change him or wipe him down.
Jehee preferred to be taken care of by a professional caregiver over someone his age, but I was the opposite.
So whenever the chance came, I’d step in like it was nothing.
Eventually, he got used to my hands.
Anyway, while changing his diaper, I quietly examined Jehee’s body.
Especially his lower half.
“…Hmm.”
His most private area was exposed beneath the half-pulled-down pants.
Pale skin overall.
A dainty belly button, protruding pelvic bones, thin legs stripped of muscle—touching him felt like handling a warm wax figure.
To be honest, that “private part” didn’t really seem special to me.
Even before we ended up in the hospital, we’d gone swimming, to the valley, to bathhouses together so many times.
I’d seen Jehee’s body countless times.
Him sleeping over at my place was practically routine.
I’ve scrubbed his back more times than I can count.
So I expected it, but still, how should I put this…
‘I’m really just… not feeling anything.’
There was a reason I took a closer look at Jehee’s body.
During break at school, I overheard someone in the bathroom say, “If you see the person you like naked and don’t get hard, you’re not a real man.”
The thing is, I couldn’t remember ever getting “hard” while looking at Jehee.
Maybe I just hadn’t looked properly before.
So this time, I really focused… but I still don’t get it.
Not even the slightest spark of that so-called “urge.”
But that doesn’t mean I don’t like Jehee.
That much, I’m sure of.
If I didn’t, why the hell would I be stuck to him like glue?
I’m not exactly someone with a lot of free time.
Out of all the things I can do and can’t do, there are way more I can.
I’ve already awakened at my age, and though it’s not public knowledge due to some circumstances, my rank is nothing to scoff at.
I don’t stick around because I’ve got nothing better to do—I stay by Jehee’s side because the thought of him not being there makes me feel worse than any joy I’d get from doing something else.
I don’t want anyone else touching him while I’m gone.
I don’t want him feeling lonely when I’m not there.
That’s why I’m always by his side.
You can’t do that for someone you don’t like.
But still… what the hell?
Why is it that even when I see him naked, I feel nothing?
“Taehwan, what are you doing?”
“Huh?”
“You’re not done yet? Or are you?”
“Not yet. Sorry.”
Maybe I was staring too long.
Jehee glanced around nervously, probably feeling my presence.
I quickly put him on a new diaper and pulled his pants up.
After gently tapping his forehead, he realized I was done and adjusted the backrest of his chair.
I washed my hands at the sink in the hospital room and came back to grab Jehee’s face in both hands—splat.
“Eek, that’s cold!”
Unlike his legs, which don’t respond no matter how much I touch them, his cheeks twitch the moment my hands make contact.
Jehee burst out laughing.
I couldn’t help but smile along.
On a whim, I kept squishing his cheeks.
“This is your fault, so warm them up for me.”
“You’re the one who washed in cold water! Let me do it too.”
He reached up, fumbling along my arm, and pressed his palm to my cheek, but I ignored him and kept poking at his face.
For someone so skinny, his cheeks were nice and chubby.
Maybe his baby fat never went away.
They didn’t quite fill my hand, but the squishiness was oddly satisfying.
Jehee’s expressions, his warmth, his touch, his voice—every little thing about him tickled something inside me.
It made me want to do something reckless.
“Ah. Wait—could this be the feeling they were talking about?”
Except… this version of “desire” felt a bit different from what they meant.
I wanted to kiss him.
To cover those plump cheeks with kisses until they were all wet.
I even wanted to bite him.
Sink my teeth in until there were marks.
Make everyone ask what happened to his cheek, and have him answer, “Taehwan did it.”
I want people to think of me every time they see him.
It’d be nice if no one else even thought of touching him.
‘…I’m seriously a lost cause.’
I couldn’t deny it.
If I’m having these kinds of thoughts, I’m definitely not someone who doesn’t like him.
But the problem was something else entirely.
I know I like Jung Jehee.
That’s a fact.
And yet… all I want to do is kiss him.
It’s not like I’ve ever gotten turned on by someone else, either.
Out of curiosity, I tried exploring different stuff, but nothing really hit me.
Jehee’s the one who brings out the most in me.
Which means… my maximum desire is just kissing.
…At this point, the only logical conclusion is that I’m impotent.
“I’m impotent. Wow.”
That’s… honestly kind of a shock.
If anyone found out about this, I’d be teased for the rest of my life.
I’ve never really been the type to get mocked before, so this is a fresh experience.
“…Well, whatever.”
Jung Jehee, the person I love, doesn’t have a functioning lower half anyway.
It’s not just a spinal injury—the poison from inside the Gate corroded the nerves, rendering him completely nonfunctional.
There were even theories the poison could spread and kill him, or that the affected parts wouldn’t grow, or that he might never even go through puberty.
Most of that turned out to be just speculation, but the fact remains: Jehee can’t function sexually.
So what kind of joke would it be if I sat here getting off by myself when the person I love is like this?
There’s no room for erotic fantasies, and I can’t imagine myself loving anyone else, so it doesn’t feel all that serious.
I won’t pretend it doesn’t hurt my pride, but come on—
Isn’t it better to have someone I can connect with emotionally than to be fully functional but utterly alone?
“Taehwan.”
“…Yeah?”
Maybe he caught the serious mood I was in.
Jehee’s previously cheerful face had gone solemn.
Then he slowly lowered the backrest and pulled off the blanket.
Like he was inviting me in.
“Want to sleep with me tonight?”
“What’s with that? Out of nowhere?”
“Just ‘cause.”
…As if.
If Jehee were the type to act all needy for “just ‘cause,” I wouldn’t be this worried all the time.
He’s hypersensitive about other people but totally clueless about himself.
Which means it’s always on me to look after him.
Still, this was a great opportunity.
No reason to say no.
“Yeah. I won’t go home tonight. Let’s sleep together.”
I quickly turned off the light and slid under the blanket.
Jehee broke into a bright smile and laughed, then stretched out his bony arms to hug me.
As I gently pulled him in, he fit perfectly into my arms.
It hit me all over again.
“Jehee… you’ve gotten smaller again.”
Technically, I’ve gotten bigger.
Maybe it’s the poison, or just his constitution, but Jehee’s growth has always been slow.
We had a height difference to begin with, but now even our body types were miles apart.
Lately, my bones ache from growing so fast.
If this keeps up, Jehee might end up no bigger than a puppy.
“Maybe it’s a good thing I’m impotent.”
At the rate I’m growing, I’ll be towering over him as an adult. What could I even do with him, physically?
If I were the kind of person who got hard, sleeping like this together would be a nightmare.
Jehee can’t see, so he tends to grope my face or body to figure out where I am—things could get real awkward, real fast.
But this? This is enough.
Just holding him close, breathing in his scent, stroking his soft hair, cradling his fragile shoulders and patting his back—
It fills me to the brim.
Makes me feel happy. Whole.
“So this is it? Platonic love?”
Plato said that “true love” wasn’t about the physical or material—it was about something mental, emotional.
That might just be what this is.
Sometimes, Jehee’s lips look so red and pretty that I want to bite or lick them, but it’s never to the point that I can’t hold back.
I don’t wish for more than that, either.
So I guess this means I really do love him—emotionally, sincerely.
I’m in “true love.” I feel proud of that.
“Taehwan.”
“Yeah, I’m listening.”
“You don’t have to come anymore. Don’t come again.”
“…What?”
The buoyant feeling I had, like I was floating, crashed to the ground.
My body felt like it had gone cold.
* * *
