Destruction — Chapter 31

“Eat a lot, okay?”

“…What are you doing.”

“Here, ahh.”

Seeing him struggle to eat properly with one hand, Saejin scooped up a big spoonful of rice, topped it with ham, and held it up to Woobeom’s mouth. His nagging sounded like he was trying to feed a toddler, which was ridiculous enough to make Woobeom stare.

“Yoon Saejin.”

“Yes?”

“Do I look like a kid to you.”

“Come on, of course not. If I thought you were a kid, I’d be putting a bib on you.”

He flicked the spoon in his hand as if telling him to stop talking nonsense and just eat already. Saejin’s tone was oddly bold, and funnier still, he was copying Woobeom’s way of speaking. People said you shouldn’t curse around kids, and apparently that was true. A dull throb hit Woobeom’s head, and after briefly pulling his brows together, he let out a dissatisfied breath.

“Enough.”

He couldn’t smack him, and he didn’t feel like arguing. When Woobeom waved him off and went back to eating, Saejin puffed his cheeks in annoyance and shoved the spoonful into his own mouth instead. Watching him grumble and chew like he was trying to prove a point, Woobeom felt the corner of his mouth rise without meaning to. Realizing he was smiling like an idiot, he forced it back down and kept his face blank. That strange, hard-to-define feeling crept up on him whenever he was in front of Saejin, leaving him unable to let his guard down.

Since there was only one side dish, he finished his food quickly. Scooping up the last grains of rice, Saejin stood up to do the dishes. Off to one side, the fish Woobeom had caught earlier were wriggling energetically in their container. Passing by, Saejin noticed they looked a lot like minnows. When he’d lived at the orphanage, the director used to empty traps full of similar freshwater fish, so he recognized them at a glance.

“Hey, should we put these in ramyeon tomorrow?”

“Do whatever.”

Clearing the dishes from in front of Woobeom, Saejin remembered the taste of the minnows he’d had before. They didn’t have much meat, so they were annoying to eat, but maybe they’d give the broth a spicy stew vibe. By the time he finished watching the minnows dart around in their cramped plastic tub, the dishes were already done.

Saejin headed to the food storage room and rubbed his arms against the chilly air. The boiler didn’t reach this space, and cold leaked in easily, so he didn’t want to stay long. He quickly grabbed a few packs of ramyeon and hurried back to the living room. It was still amazing how a place inside the same villa could feel that much colder. Still, thanks to it, they could leave food out without worrying about spoilage.

Since ramyeon didn’t last as long as canned goods, he didn’t feel guilty about cooking it freely. After setting aside tomorrow’s ramyeon in the kitchen storage, Saejin rubbed his arms again, trying to shake off the chill.

While he moved around the kitchen, Woobeom was putting out the fire in the stove. Luckily, it hadn’t been used in a long time, so there wasn’t much ash and cleanup was quick. He pushed the stove aside when he noticed Saejin creeping toward him. Woobeom shot him a look that basically said, What now.

“I’m actually really good at massages.”

“And?”

“You worked hard today. And you can’t use your hand, so if anything hurts you won’t even be able to rub it. I’ll give you a massage before bed.”

“A massage?”

His tone said he wasn’t exactly against it, but he wasn’t convinced either. Saejin seized that tiny hesitation and shoved him lightly in the back. Before Woobeom could refuse, he was already being herded toward the bedroom. Acting like some overinvested caretaker, Saejin urged him along, telling him to be careful of the lower lip of the doorframe as they walked through. He’d only hurt his shoulder, not gone blind, yet Saejin hovered over him like he needed full-time supervision. It was absurd enough to make him speechless.

Was he trying to play house or something? Woobeom’s lips twitched, but he didn’t bother saying anything. The peaceful atmosphere wasn’t bad. He’d lived his whole life walking on thin ice. After decades in a world where betrayal or death could come any day, he’d lost any sense of ease; his emotions had dried up. He chose to hole up in this villa because once he’d carried out his revenge for his brother, there was nothing left in his life. Time felt wasted, lethargy dragged at him, and that emptiness had swallowed him whole. But then an unexpected pitch came his way.

For Woobeom, that pitch wasn’t the new virus that created the monsters, it was Saejin. This bright, clueless kid poking around trying to “help,” sneaking glances, acting cheeky, it was oddly refreshing. Maybe that was why those unfamiliar feelings kept rising only when it came to Saejin. The thought crossed his mind.

Damn. I sound like some adolescent brat.

Wiping a hand down his dry face to keep his cool, Woobeom sat on the bed just as Saejin wanted. The kid’s chatter filled the emptiness of villa life. Even when he rambled endlessly, Saejin’s voice wasn’t grating, so there was no urge to shut him up.

Once he sat, Saejin slipped behind him with an unexpectedly serious expression and flexed his hands. He avoided the left shoulder, where the bullet wound was, and focused only on the right side. He rested his hands on the broad, flat shoulder and started kneading. After a while, Saejin tilted his head, sneaking a look at Woobeom. He couldn’t tell if he was doing it right. When he’d massaged the orphanage director, it had felt nothing like this. Woobeom’s muscles were so hard it felt like squeezing a rock for a grip-strength test.

“…Does it feel good?”

Saejin asked carefully, not convinced he was making any difference. Getting no immediate answer, he figured it wasn’t. For some reason, his pride was hurt. Determined to show what he could really do, he told Woobeom to lie down this time. He expected rejection as usual, but Woobeom obediently lay on his stomach. Maybe even a mediocre massage helped him relax.

Looking at Woobeom’s back, Saejin got into position, crawling determinedly up toward his waist. Finding the right spot, he climbed onto him in one smooth motion. The muscles in Woobeom’s lower back jolted tight, the tension traveling straight into Saejin’s thighs. He must’ve expected Saejin to sit beside him, not on top of him, his surprise was obvious.

“Is this uncomfortable?”

Uncomfortable didn’t even begin to cover it. What the hell was he thinking, climbing onto another man’s body? Woobeom felt a headache coming on and just shut his eyes. Taking the silence as a yes, Saejin completely missed what was going on in his head and started kneading his back again. Careful not to touch the wounded area, he pressed slowly along tense muscles, and they did start to loosen. It was definitely more effective than trying to massage from the side; using his body weight made a difference.

Woobeom’s breathing evened out slightly. His lower back, stiff from the sudden contact, gradually relaxed, only to tense back up whenever Saejin’s thighs brushed him. Meanwhile, Saejin’s hands drifted lower and lower as he worked. From the ribs down to the line of the spine, he pressed every knot he could find. It seemed exhausting, and he let out a breathy puff from the effort. Too much enthusiasm for his own good.

“I’ll massage your legs too.”

Saejin wriggled down from his waist and immediately moved to his thighs. But the moment he touched him, the world spun, and suddenly he was staring up at the ceiling. Woobeom had rolled them in one swift move and was pinning him down.

“Yoon Saejin.”

His voice rumbled, low and heavy, drilling straight into Saejin’s ears. Woobeom’s body blocked the light, casting a deep shadow over Saejin’s torso. While Saejin blinked in confusion, Woobeom’s face drew closer and closer. Close enough their breaths mingled, Saejin sucked in a sharp breath and froze. Heat flared from his scalp to his throat, his heart pounding hard enough to burst. His trembling eyelashes betrayed just how thrown off he was.

The shadow made Woobeom’s features look even sharper. Stern eyes, a straight nose, Saejin drank in his face and felt his own burning hotter and hotter. At this rate, Woobeom was going to see him turn into a tomato.

“Who told you to climb on me like that.”

“…I just… wanted to give you a proper massage.”

“Then should I give you one too.”

Woobeom’s hand reached for his shoulder. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared about a bit of physical contact. They’d touched casually before. But this felt different. Maybe because Woobeom was holding him down, whatever the reason, the closeness hit differently.

“…No, it’s fine.”

He only meant to teach him that you don’t just climb onto someone’s body, but with Saejin looking up at him with flushed cheeks, the mood was turning weird. Woobeom pulled his hand back and pushed himself away. Still, he could almost feel the faint trembling from where Saejin had been wedged between his thighs.

“Hyung…”

“What.”

“My heart’s acting weird. It was beating like crazy just now… like I’d sprinted full speed or something.”

“What the…

“Is that normal?”

The ridiculous question made Woobeom’s lips twitch. What kind of answer was he expecting? His pink cheeks and fidgeting fingers made the atmosphere skew even stranger. Woobeom curled his fingers tightly, refusing to get pulled into it.

“Hyung?”

Right as Saejin opened his mouth to ask why he wasn’t answering, he flinched violently and rolled over clutching his forehead. Woobeom had flicked him hard.

He’d flicked him so sharply a clean crack echoed, and a bright red mark bloomed instantly.

“How should I know?”

“God… you could’ve just said it.”

Rubbing his aching forehead hard, Saejin barely held back the tears that tried to spill. The moment the strange mood evaporated, he snorted and bolted into his room.

Sliding down behind the closed door, he sat on the floor. His face burned so badly his legs went weak. That stupid question he’d thrown out pretending to be clueless had completely backfired.

Why did I even bring up sprinting…

When Woobeom had come up over him, Saejin had realized something faintly, he wasn’t just grateful to him. He genuinely liked him. More than liked him. Even the smallest touch made every cell in his body fire up; what else could that be but attraction?

Saejin panicked. He’d never felt this fluttering for anyone before, but it always appeared the moment he faced Woobeom, like magic. After sitting there for a long time trying to calm himself, he walked to the window. Outside was pitch black, nothing visible at all. He shut the curtains to block the cold and collapsed onto his bed with a defeated sigh. Staring blankly at the ceiling, he kept replaying the humiliating conversation until he kicked the blanket in frustration.

He must think I’m some dumb kid.

Given Woobeom’s personality, it was a reasonable suspicion. He shouldn’t have said anything. Getting flicked on the forehead for saying something stupid only added to the humiliation. Furious, Saejin eventually buried his face deep into the pillow and smacked the mattress with both hands.

He had fallen into a deep sleep when it happened. He’d been dreaming about suddenly becoming rich, only to wake at the sound of something shattering. Forcing his heavy eyelids open, he staggered to the door and stepped out, only to see Woobeom standing in the dark. Or more precisely, Woobeom stopped in front of a broken cup.

“What are you doing out here?”

Still half-asleep, he rubbed his eyes hard and blinked against the fatigue, searching for the light switch to brighten the dark living room.

“Why were you standing here with all the lights off?”

Unlike the city, once the sun went down, you couldn’t see anything without lamps. Thanks to the TV that had been left on, he could barely make out the silhouettes of furniture. When the lights suddenly flashed on, Woobeom winced and pressed his fingers to his forehead. Saejin hurried toward him in alarm, he might step on glass.

“Are you hurt?”

Grabbing Woobeom’s wrist, he meant to move his hand to see his face better, but the heat radiating from his wrist made him jump. This wasn’t a mild fever. Standing on tiptoe, Saejin placed his palm on Woobeom’s forehead to check again.

“What kind of fever is this…”

His gaze flicked to the medicine box lying on the side table. So he’d been trying to take fever reducers. Seeing the cold sweat on him made Saejin’s chest ache. He had been too careless. No matter how tough someone was, getting shot and acting fine just wasn’t realistic. The broken glass could wait. The fever couldn’t.

“You don’t have to worry.”

“That’s what you’re saying right now?”

Woobeom tried to insist he’d be fine after taking the medicine and turned to go back to bed. That made something snap in Saejin, he grabbed Woobeom’s wrist sharply. He wasn’t a doctor. He couldn’t diagnose or properly treat him. But just like Woobeom had taken care of him when he’d been stabbed, Saejin could do the same now.

“Do you realize you’re drenched in cold sweat? You’re barely even thinking straight, you broke a cup! If you sleep alone like this, something bad is going to happen.”

“…Yoon Saejin.”

“If I bother you, then kick me out.”

Sniffing, Saejin jerked his head away and dragged Woobeom toward the bedroom. Looking down at Saejin’s round head as he obediently followed, Woobeom watched him rummage through the wardrobe before sitting on the bed. The cold sweat sticking to his shirt felt gross anyway, so he stripped it off.

“Good timing.”

With two dry towels and a clean T-shirt in hand, Saejin sat behind him.

“I’ll wipe your back, so you do the front.”

With his arm in bad shape, wiping his own back wasn’t possible. When Saejin gently wiped down his skin, the clammy discomfort eased. After Woobeom wiped his chest, neck, and forehead, he carefully put his arms through the clean shirt Saejin had brought.

The pain in his shoulder only grew worse with time, deep, burning pain tearing through muscle, so he couldn’t even try lifting that arm. Just changing a shirt left his breathing ragged. His tightened brow pulsed painfully.

Bruising had spread past the bandage covering the wound, the sight alone enough to make someone flinch. Seeing it while wiping his back, Saejin worried whether Woobeom would deal with long-term aftereffects even after healing.

I have to get his fever down first.

If a high fever dragged on, the patient would only weaken. Recovery depended on strength. Determined to help, Saejin rushed around to prepare a cool cloth.

“Lie down for now.”

Woobeom watched his blurry figure leave for the living room. Even breathing felt exhausting. Normally, someone offering to “take care” of him would have irritated him, but Saejin was different. His backtalk wasn’t annoying, and his touch didn’t bother him. Yoon Saejin somehow made him comfortable, he didn’t want to push him away.

Saejin returned with a wide basin full of ice water and wrung out a soaked towel. Woobeom closed his eyes, dizzy from the swaying sight around him. Seeing his pale, drained face made Saejin even more frantic.

“It’s not too cold, right?”

“No.”

Laying the cool cloth over his forehead, Saejin prayed the fever would finally break. If a bullet wound came with a prolonged fever, something inside was definitely wrong. And if it was caused by inflammation, it could be life-threatening. Knowing that, Saejin held Woobeom’s limp hand with worried eyes.

Normally, Woobeom woke at even the tiniest sound, but now he didn’t react even when Saejin changed the towel. Watching a sleeping person felt frightening for the first time in his life. He checked constantly to make sure Woobeom was breathing. Whenever his chest didn’t rise right away, Saejin’s heart dropped.

Through the whole night, Saejin changed the towels, wiped him down, and monitored his temperature. It finally came down, but then a new problem appeared. After the fever broke, Woobeom started shivering uncontrollably, likely from blood loss lowering his body temperature.

…This isn’t good.

Nervous, chewing on his nails, Saejin decided he needed to warm him quickly. He remembered hearing that in emergencies, sharing body heat by touching skin-to-skin helped hypothermia patients. Hoping it would work, he stripped off his shirt, crawled under the covers, and pulled Woobeom into his arms. If their combined warmth could bring his temperature back up, it would be a blessing. Hugging his waist tightly, Saejin closed his eyes. This was all he could do. Pressed against him, he felt Woobeom’s forearm lift and fall with each slow breath, and that alone gave him some relief.

The moment he lay down, the muscles of his own legs and arms, finally allowed to rest, throbbed painfully. Even his abdomen pulsed with sharp aches. But knowing he was in much better shape than Woobeom, he didn’t complain. Not that he had anyone to complain to in the first place.