* * *

Cleaning wasn’t much of a challenge for Beom Sinje, who was used to handling household chores.

He started by gathering the scattered clothes around the bed and tossing them into the laundry basket.

When he turned to change the sheets, he found Doyoung lying on his side, sound asleep.

“Doyoung hyung.”

Standing at the edge of the bed, he quietly gazed at the exhausted face before him.

“…”

A few damp strands of hair had fallen onto Doyoung’s forehead.

Carefully, Beom Sinje brushed them aside, revealing the sharp curve of his eyebrows.

Without realizing it, his fingertips lightly traced along them.

“Mm…”

When Doyoung’s thin eyelids trembled slightly, Beom Sinje quickly pulled his hand back.

Yet, his gaze remained fixed, as if unable to look away.

Doyoung’s first impression had been that of a cold, intellectual actor—meticulously composed and flawless in appearance.

But everything he said was always unexpected.

At first, he’d asked if Beom Sinje had noticed any strange physical changes in himself.

Then, he’d lied about being a distant relative of his father, claiming he wanted to help.

Beom Sinje, who had already tasted enough of life’s harsh realities, wasn’t naive enough to believe such stories outright.

“Your father’s cousin’s son’s cousin, huh?”

With claims like that, he’d even suspected at one point that Doyoung might be a con artist.

Not that he’d seemed particularly invested in gaining Beom Sinje’s trust.

‘What’s your deal, really?’

He’d been curious about why Doyoung had sought him out.

That curiosity had been a large part of why he’d let a complete stranger into his home.

And then, the man had said something utterly absurd.

“Look at the state of this place. This won’t do. Pack your things.”

There’s a saying that extreme absurdity can leave a person speechless, and it proved true.

Beom Sinje had been swept along by Doyoung’s forcefulness, finding himself bewilderedly following him to a sleek, well-organized apartment.

Not only that, but he’d even received a call informing him that his mother had been transferred to a better hospital.

‘If he’s not a con artist, is he just a fool?’

It was only natural to think so.

What kind of scammer suddenly appeared, claimed to be a distant relative, and then started doing all this?

He’d kept an eye on Doyoung, wary of whatever tricks he might be up to.

But as time went on, the man’s actions only became harder to understand.

He provided food, shelter, companionship, and even enrolled Beom Sinje in a special training academy after his awakening.

As if that weren’t enough, he’d even handed over an expensive weapon.

Eventually, Beom Sinje found himself tilting his head in confusion.

‘Could he actually be related to my father?’

He knew better, of course.

But at some point, this enigmatic man had become a constant presence in his life, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Trusting him felt inevitable.

How could he not, when Doyoung was always there, taking care of him, looking out for him, and offering unwavering support?

But how had things reached this point?

When had he started letting this person into the deepest parts of his heart?

“Hyung, do you know?”

That you’ve taken a piece of me with you?

That earlier, I looked at you with such a gaze?

If he knew, he wouldn’t have been so provocative, stirring him up like that.

“Don’t keep doing this. Otherwise…”

Beom Sinje hesitated, gently tracing a fingertip along Doyoung’s closed eyelids before pulling his hand away.

The damp towel he’d been using to clean him up had already gone cold.

Clenching the towel, Beom Sinje slowly leaned down.

His lips brushed against Doyoung’s lightly, lingering for just a few seconds before pulling away.

The fleeting contact ended as quickly as it began.

Without another glance, Beom Sinje headed toward the bathroom.

His hurried steps betrayed his usual composure.

His ears and the nape of his neck burned with a vivid, sunset-like glow.

Doyoung blinked blankly.

His body felt unusually refreshed, perhaps because he had slept soundly without any bizarre dreams.

But deep down, he knew there was another reason.

He just didn’t want to think about it and chose to ignore it instead.

“Ugh…”

The pleasant feeling only deepened his sense of self-loathing.

Grabbing his head, Doyoung groaned and abruptly sat upright in bed.

He vaguely remembered Beom Sinje saying before he fell asleep, “I’ll take care of it myself.”

“I thought I misheard him, but I guess not.”

The soft bedding, the neatly arranged space around the bed, the calm atmosphere—it was all taken care of. Sure, that was good and all, but…

“Oh, come on. It wasn’t a dream?”

As the realization hit, memories of last night came rushing back.

Beom Sinje touching himself, and Doyoung, his hands on that terrifying thing of his.

“Ugh! No, stop it. Don’t think about it. That’s not it.”

He tousled his hair, grimacing, then decided he needed to get out of bed.

Though he hesitated briefly when he reached for the doorknob, he swung the door open with determination.

The lights were off, but the sunlight streaming through the large window illuminated the room.

“Out for work already, huh?”

Feeling oddly relieved, Doyoung ran a hand through his disheveled hair and headed toward the kitchen.

That’s when he noticed the food laid out on the table.

“No way…”

He walked over, drawn to it.

Toast and salad were neatly arranged on a plate, covered with a transparent lid.

“Why would he…? This isn’t like him.”

Grumbling, but feeling his hunger, Doyoung gulped down some water to soothe his parched throat and sat at the table.

He didn’t forget to pour himself a glass of juice either, even while muttering complaints.

The French toast was just the right amount of fluffy, sweet, and seasoned.

As he polished off two pieces, he occasionally speared some salad with his fork, finishing the meal in no time.

When he got up to leave, his eyes caught sight of a small medicine packet on the side of the table.

“Ah…”

For a moment, he instinctively looked around.

The silence in the house confirmed no one else was there.

“Sigh… how did it come to this, where I even have to be mindful about this?”

With a frustrated sigh, he rubbed his face and hesitantly picked up the medicine packet.

A sticky note was attached.

[Just in case you forgot, I left this here. Take it right after your meal.]

The neatly pressed handwriting was an exact reflection of Beom Sinje’s meticulous personality.

Doyoung pouted slightly but took the medicine without a word.

“As if I wouldn’t have taken it on my own.”

He muttered to himself, but his sigh deepened. The mishap from last night weighed heavily on his mind.

After all, it had happened because he carelessly forgot to take his medicine.

“Sigh…”

He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t understand how things had escalated to that point.

‘How could he… just so casually do that to me?’

Doyoung was so flustered that he didn’t even realize he’d repeated the word “that” twice in his thoughts.

And who wouldn’t be?

How could someone younger than him, like Beom Sinje, seize the upper hand so effortlessly?

More baffling was how unfazed Beom Sinje had been while touching his thing.

‘Most people wouldn’t be able to do that so easily, would they?’

It wasn’t like he could just ask directly, though.

“Ugh… Forget it.”

There was no point in overthinking it.

* * *