* * *
As he closed his eyes to dispel the lingering hallucination, only the sensation of water lapping against his skin remained.
Yet despite the warmth, it felt strangely cold.
Enduring things alone was always painful.
But being truly alone—that was worse.
He had become too unaccustomed to it.
Just the thought of being alone again chilled his heart, like it was his first time feeling loneliness.
But being alone was always his default.
No special talents, but always fulfilling his duties.
Maintaining distance with others, never crossing boundaries.
That was the pattern Ben had learned from her.
But then came a man who crossed that line without hesitation.
At first, Ben had drawn that boundary clearly.
But somewhere along the way, the line blurred.
So faint now, it almost didn’t exist.
And before he knew it, that man had become someone he thought of naturally.
Somehow, his touches no longer made Ben flinch.
The occasional playful kisses felt casual, unforced.
Even a bed shared between two men no longer felt out of place.
The conversations, the gestures, though ordinary—had become something familiar.
That must have been when things started to change.
He never imagined there would come a day when not being alone didn’t feel strange anymore.
Caught off guard by how naturally he sought the other man out, Ben curled into himself further.
In the darkness behind his closed eyelids, her last image clung to him like old film that wouldn’t peel away.
She had always made him feel small.
Like the helpless child he once was—exposed and weak.
“…You’ve been in the tub for a while. I wondered what you were doing.”
At that moment, a voice unlike the one that had tormented Ben all along echoed through the bathroom—familiar, languid, and soft.
Despite it being the voice he had longed for, Ben tilted his head slightly in confusion.
Something about it felt off, as if it, too, was just another hallucination haunting him.
A part of him wondered if it really was Haimar’s voice, yet even then, he couldn’t quite get a grip on what to do.
He was torn between wanting to lean on him and not wanting to show how weak he’d become.
“Ben.”
With the sound of splashing water, his face was gently lifted.
Cool skin pressed against his, and Haimar’s face, gazing down at him, tugged Ben’s mind back from its endless spiral.
But as his unfocused eyes continued to wander, still hazy with confusion, Haimar came even closer, hands cupping Ben’s face.
“…Haimar?”
Only then did Ben finally register Haimar, fully filling his field of vision.
Like a glitched computer, Ben blinked slowly, vacant, until he gradually shed his dazed expression and an obvious look of panic appeared.
“I’m sorry. I was just… lost in thought.”
Ben avoided his eyes and trailed off—uncharacteristically suspicious.
It was times like this that his inability to lie became painfully inconvenient.
His green eyes trembled slightly, and his heartbeat thudded unevenly, betraying him. It was more than enough to rattle Haimar’s mood.
Yet Haimar did nothing but stare steadily at him.
Ben, still held in place, could only dart his eyes around anxiously.
Every time he glanced at Haimar, their eyes met dead-on.
His lips moved as if to say something, but he bit down on his lower lip instead.
With a soft sigh, Haimar released Ben’s face.
Then, slipping his arms beneath Ben’s back and the crook of his knees, he effortlessly lifted him out of the tub.
“W-wait, what are you—!”
Splash—
Water flew everywhere from Ben’s lifted body, soaking Haimar’s thin T-shirt in an instant.
As the chill of the air touched his skin, Ben shivered slightly, and Haimar, holding him close, sat down just beyond the glass wall separating the tub from the rest of the bathroom.
Though a towel covered the most private parts, being naked—and seated on Haimar’s lap, no less—was mortifying.
Ben instinctively tried to get up, but after soaking too long in the tub, the sudden dizziness made him slump right back into Haimar’s arms.
“I swear, I wish I could just crack open your head and take a look.”
The voice came from right beside his bowed head, making Ben flinch.
He knew Haimar couldn’t read his mind, but still, he didn’t want to be prodded or questioned.
If Haimar decided to press, Ben knew he wouldn’t be able to dodge forever—and spilling his painful memories so willingly didn’t appeal to him either.
But to his surprise, Haimar said nothing at all.
He simply held Ben in silence, as if he somehow knew Ben didn’t want to talk.
Of course that couldn’t be, yet for a brief moment, Ben wondered if he had read his mind.
All Haimar did was pull Ben tightly into his arms as the younger man continued to fidget, unable to even look up.
Time passed quietly in his embrace.
At first, Ben was too overwhelmed to hear anything, but gradually, the soft dripping of water and Haimar’s calm breathing filled his ears.
The familiar sounds relaxed his tense body.
Through the damp fabric, Haimar’s warmth seeped in. His fingertips were cold, but the skin where they touched felt slightly warmer than usual—subtle and unmistakably his.
There was nothing awkward or strange about sitting there together in silence.
In fact, it was comforting.
The hallucinations that had weighed so heavily on him began to fade after Haimar appeared, now barely clinging to him like wisps of smoke.
The steady, low heartbeat pulsing beneath Ben’s cheek, where he’d unknowingly begun to lean more comfortably, gradually calmed him.
‘Ah… he’s waiting for me.’
That was when Ben realized—Haimar was giving him time until he could return to himself.
The gentle patience, clumsy yet somehow familiar, made the tips of Ben’s ears blush red.
The desperate desire not to show weakness had already retreated somewhere far away.
“You thinking of finally looking at me now?”
Haimar’s green eyes caught Ben’s the moment he lifted his gaze, his expression softening sweetly as if he’d been waiting all along.
The directness of it, hitting Ben without warning, left him speechless.
‘Seriously… why does he have to be so unfairly good-looking?’
At the same time, a dull thud echoed inside his chest.
A simmering, ticklish feeling, like something he hadn’t even known was there—sealed tightly inside—had begun to stir.
Ben pushed the sensation down and finally managed to speak.
“…Yes. But I keep feeling like I’m being a burden today.”
Today, he felt like he was barely functional—near zero.
Why did he keep making Haimar wait?
He had no excuse, even with all the words in the world.
But even so, Haimar showed no sign of irritation.
His steady silence, if anything, soothed Ben’s fraying nerves, though it also brought back that dreadful thought—he didn’t want to be a burden.
Especially not to him.
“And who came up with that? Was it you? Or the hallucination?”
Ben faltered and averted his gaze, revealing a sliver of vulnerability.
But Haimar wouldn’t let him off that easily—he reached out and held Ben’s chin, steadying it so he couldn’t look away.
In those faintly trembling eyes, Haimar saw clearly—Ben was still caught in the grip of the hallucinations.
Even though Ben hadn’t said a word, Haimar recalled the offhand comment he’d made earlier at Central: “I think I might be affected by hallucinations too.”
That alone told him everything he needed to know.
“So you’ve been dragging yourself around like this just because of some hallucination?”
If only Ben also thought it was “just” a hallucination—how much easier it would be.
“…That would’ve been nice.”
Ben murmured, voice so quiet it was almost to himself.
His forced smile barely hid the weariness behind it.
“Ben—”
Haimar’s voice sounded softly in his ear, not expecting a reply.
Then his lips gently caught Ben’s pink earlobe, biting down lightly.
He traced the rim and inner shell of Ben’s ear with a wet, warm tongue, then grazed the soft cartilage as if to swallow his ear whole.
At the squelching sound so close by, Ben instinctively raised his hand to cover his ear, but Haimar caught it and held it, lips still pressed close as he whispered low.
“Remind me, who was it that said people can’t know unless you say it?”
“Ugh—!”
A completely unexpected counterattack.
Ben hadn’t imagined his own words would be thrown right back at him like that.
“What good is talking about the past? It’s not even interesting.”
“That just makes me want to hear it more.”
“You’re not even the type to be curious about other people.”
‘You don’t even talk about yourself,’ Ben thought, mentally accusing Haimar of being unfair.
Still, he knew full well he was just making excuses—and that only made him more desperate to keep making them.
“You really don’t know why I’m curious?”
“It’d be nice if you didn’t whisper that so close—”
“If I had to pick a reason—”
As Ben squirmed, looking for an escape route in conversation, Haimar cut him off with calm precision, not letting him go.
Every time his breath brushed Ben’s skin, it made him uncomfortably aware of how close their lips were.
He tried to push him away, but Haimar only leaned in further, blocking all retreat and delivering his answer.
“You’re the only man I trust, Ben Flaskun.”
…Defeat.
How was he supposed to win when he said something like that?
He shouldn’t have picked a fight he was bound to lose.
The pink flush that had barely touched his ears now spread down his neck like wildfire.
His heart beat so fast it felt like it might burst out of his chest.
The fluttering warmth from earlier returned, soft and maddening.
* * *
