RAT Chapter 5 (Part 1)

5. I hate you, I love you

It was sometime when the regression count still had only three digits—on Jin Yoorim’s twentieth birthday.

“A wish?”

“Yeah, something like that. As long as it’s something I can do.”

When I casually said I’d do anything he wanted for the day, Jin Yoorim took it far too seriously and thought about it for a long while.

And it wasn’t until we were in the car heading back after finishing the schedule—when I had already forgotten I’d even said such a thing—that he grabbed my hand.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah.”

“Will you really… do anything I ask?”

“Well… I guess.”

At my vague answer, Jin Yoorim gave a faint smile. As if he hadn’t expected much from the start.

The truth was, I’d been awake since three-thirty in the morning for the music show schedule and had even forgotten to bring a birthday gift. It wasn’t until the shop staff started congratulating him that I remembered, so I just said that line to smooth things over.

…If someone brought that up again after seven in the evening, of course I wouldn’t remember.

Instead of making excuses, I let out a small sigh and clasped both hands around Jin Yoorim’s. Whatever he was trying to say, his trembling fingers were still far too cold.

“Yoorim. What were you planning to ask me for? Why are you so nervous?”

“……”

“I’ll say this now, but I can’t buy you a house.”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“But if it’s your wish, maybe… I can manage a car or something.”

At my joking tone, Jin Yoorim stayed frozen, while the others started laughing and chatting excitedly. It was hard to believe they’d been half-dead just minutes ago after finishing their final broadcast.

“Wow… Moontae, did you hear that? This is what they call leadership.”

“No, that’s the power of copyright royalties.”

“Oh, right. By the way, Park Yeoul-nim, can I use my wish ticket on my birthday too?”

After throwing a cushion at Kim Dojun, who was now shouting domestic car brands while saying he was too humble to ask for a foreign one, I called to our manager.

“Jaeyoung hyung.”

“Yeah, Yeoul. What’s up?”

“Yoorim and I will get off separately. Drop us off at my officetel.”

“Well… since today’s the last music show, there’s no schedule until tomorrow anyway. But what about Yoorim’s birthday livestream?”

“We already did one in the waiting room earlier. We can just do another quick one at the officetel.”

“You sure? I mean… doing it there—is that really okay?”

Knowing how sensitive I was about sasaengs, the manager asked carefully, but I just smiled.

“That’s why I’ll make sure only Yoorim’s face shows. If his face fills the frame, no one will notice anything else.”

And of course, I wasn’t stupid enough to show the windows or the apartment layout that could give away the location. Sitting on the couch would show nothing but a white wall. And about seventy-five percent of Korean households have white walls in their living rooms anyway.

Still, since I rarely visited the officetel unless I was working on songs for an album, Kim Dojun and Moon Taeyoung started teasing again.

“Wow… our leader really plays favorites. So this officetel is actually livable after all.”

“I’d call that privilege, not favoritism.”

“Moontae, privilege is a kind of benefit. Personally, I’m not into that kind of—”

“Oh, then me neither.”

After proudly declaring that they didn’t need my favoritism, they immediately turned around and apologized to Jin Yoorim.

“Yoorim, we didn’t mean that it’s sad that you’re Yeoul’s favorite, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, we just meant we’re not jealous—ow! Why’d you throw that at me again?”

Because you started it?

Instead of replying, I just waved the remaining cushion at the grumbling Kim Dojun, and the two finally went quiet.

Maybe he still hadn’t relaxed, because even though I’d been holding his hand the entire time, Jin Yoorim’s fingers were still cold. I gently pressed and rubbed them a few times, then realized someone was being unusually quiet.

Knowing that particular person didn’t exactly have a gentle personality, I quickly looked back—thankfully, Eden was sound asleep. I pulled the blanket that had slipped down and tucked it neatly up to his neck, then called to the manager again.

“Hyung, please stop here.”

It was inevitable that idols would have sasaengs, but things changed when you got stabbed multiple times by one. That wasn’t something you could just shrug off.

That’s why, whenever I went to the officetel, I’d go out of my way to switch taxis two or three times. But even for me, today would be pushing it.

After the pre-recording and the live show, there’d been a radio appearance and then Yoorim’s birthday livestream. Physically, it hadn’t been a hard schedule, but mentally, I was already at my limit.

D.I.Y. was only in its second year, still too green to be called broadcast-savvy, and appearing on a live radio show that couldn’t be edited was nerve-racking.

Even though radio wasn’t as influential as TV, it was easy to record and edit even for amateurs, and it could always be replayed later. In other words, it was the perfect medium for people with bad intentions.

On top of that, with D.I.Y. teetering between B-list and A-list, we had to watch even how we breathed on air. To everyone except our fans, we were practically the public enemy of K-pop.

And knowing full well we had a music show today, Kim Dojun—who had a huge pimple under his chin from something he ate yesterday—just joked about how lucky it was that the radio wasn’t a visual one.

Meanwhile, Jin Yoorim had barely said a word all day, aside from when he sang during the pre-recording.

Even Eden, who was usually reliable, had visibly deflated, and I’d had to keep the conversation going for the entire hour we were guests just to keep the show from falling silent.

And now, they expected me to dodge sasaengs by changing taxis twice and go all the way to the officetel? Yeah, no. I’d rather just restart.

…Honestly, I even wondered why I was bothering to go through all this trouble for a birthday celebration.

Smiling at the worried-looking manager, I unbuckled the seat belt for Jin Yoorim, who still seemed dazed and unresponsive.

“Yeoul, are you sure it’s okay to get off here?”

“They won’t know we’re getting off here… If we run, they won’t be able to follow, right?”

“Well… I guess that’s true.”

“It’s more dangerous to hesitate before getting out. Yoorim, you heard me? The moment the car stops, we run.”

Without waiting for Jin Yoorim’s reply, I practically jumped out the second the car came to a stop. And as soon as his feet touched the ground behind me, I grabbed his hand and ran.

A few taxis that had been tailing our car stopped abruptly. Some couldn’t change lanes or pull over because the light had turned, so they just drove on.

Seeing that made me feel strangely good, and I completely forgot how Jin Yoorim hadn’t said a single proper word during the radio show. The moment we reached the officetel, I turned to him and asked again.

“That was fun. Yoorim, so did you think about it?”

“Let’s sleep together.”

And with that, Jin Yoorim threw a straight, fast pitch right at me.

It was true that I’d been trying different ways to end the regressions—and part of that involved gently coaxing Jin Yoorim along.

But faced with something so unexpected, I froze, unable to answer.

To be honest, it wasn’t like I’d never considered the possibility… but I hadn’t expected him to say it so bluntly. Especially on a day like this.

When I stayed silent, Jin Yoorim, still looking straight at me, clenched his teeth.

“I’m kidding.”

“Yoorim.”

“I just… I know you don’t like sleeping with other people, hyung…”

“Jin Yoorim.”

“I told you… it was just a joke.”

“If you were going to call it a joke, you shouldn’t have made that face.”

“……”

I quietly looked at Jin Yoorim’s face, pale enough to faint at any moment, then took his hand and led him inside.

“Let’s talk inside first. We’re standing right in front of the door.”

“……”

His hand was so cold and slightly damp that it was hard to believe we were indoors. The trace of tension somehow felt a little endearing.

It reminded me of when he was younger—how he always took a deep breath before calling my name.

…Well, it was something that had to be dealt with sooner or later anyway. Since it came up, maybe it was better to just get it over with. More than anything, it meant he’d been thinking about this since early this morning—no, before dawn. So much that he couldn’t say a single word during the broadcast.

“So, Yoorim.”

“……”

“Do you want to be held, or do you want to hold me?”

The question had barely left my mouth when Jin Yoorim pulled at my arm.

“…Don’t say it like that so lightly.”

He looked genuinely angry, but the fact that he said it sounded light actually came as a relief. What kind of nightmare would it be if he reacted with heavy seriousness in a situation like this?

Before the small warmth I’d felt earlier could disappear completely, I spoke again in the same teasing tone, pretending nothing was wrong.

“But, you know—weren’t you the one who just said it was a joke?”

“Hyung. I…”

“Yoorim, you know… your hyung’s never even kissed anyone before?”

“…Fuck, seriously.”

It seemed like Jin Yoorim was trying his best to stay calm, but my comment about it being my “first” must’ve snapped something in him. Maybe it was the word “hyung” that did it.

Either way, I’d heard Eden curse plenty of times before, but it had been so long since I’d heard Yoorim swear that I couldn’t help but laugh—until my mouth was suddenly silenced.

His hand gripped my arm, and even the trembling of his lips as he pressed them against mine looked clumsy and unsure. Instead of saying it hurt, I cupped his cheek in my hand.

Even after quite some time, when he finally came to his senses, his flushed face and uneven breathing made my conscience sting a little… but it wasn’t a lie when I said it was my first.

It was the first time in this body, so technically, it still counted, didn’t it?

…And anything beyond a kiss—that really was a first in every sense.

For a moment, I wondered if it truly needed to go this far. But I forced my voice to stay calm, making sure he wouldn’t hear the hesitation behind it.

After failing to die completely even on the hundredth attempt, and after choosing death with my own hands so many times already, there was nothing left that I couldn’t do.

I’d once driven a fountain pen into my own throat—so putting something into my body was hardly worth flinching over.

“So, Yoorim… what do you want to do?”

“…I want to hold you. Please, let me hold you.”

“…Alright. Then let’s do that.”

When I leaned in first to kiss him—just a light touch, so he wouldn’t notice how my hands were trembling—Jin Yoorim closed his eyes and endured it. I don’t know if “endured” is the right word, but there was no other way to describe it.

He closed his eyes, took deep breaths, and bore it, quietly, patiently.

After a few fleeting kisses, light enough to pass for teasing, I began slowly taking off my clothes. Through all of it, Jin Yoorim stayed still—just breathing, enduring.

And when I finally stripped away the last layer of defense—my underwear—and lifted my head, he was silently crying.

“I know… this isn’t right…”

“What isn’t?”

“I… I’m doing this to you, hyung… to Park Yeoul…”

He was probably trying to say something soft—something about wanting my heart, not just my body.

…When I think about it, he’s still only twenty. Too old to be called a kid, but still—too young.

Even now, at twenty, there was still a trace of the seventeen-year-old I’d first met. His rounded cheeks and warm, small frame were long gone, replaced by the body of a grown man—but the way he silently cried, the way his lips trembled and bit down—those hadn’t changed.

“Even though I gave permission?”

“……”

The problem was that my mind, worn down and used up by too many regressions, couldn’t feel moved or sorry anymore.

No matter what his body looked like, the old and tired part of me automatically compared this crying Yoorim to the one from previous loops—and probably felt relieved that he hadn’t changed.

…Just like I was doing now.

I tapped his lower lip lightly with my finger and smiled.

“If you need time to prepare yourself, I could be the one to hold you instead?”

“…No. I don’t want that.”

“Ha. You’re pretty firm about that.”

I laughed, and before I knew it, I was half pulled, half guided by Yoorim’s arms onto the bed.

He kept crying the whole time, tears spilling endlessly, and between those tears, he kissed me again and again. When I started to feel my lips swell, I gently pushed him away.

“Yoorim, didn’t I tell you?”

“…Tell me what?”

“I said I’d do anything you wanted today.”

“……”

“Tick-tock—tick-tock. What time do you think it is right now?”

“…You’re really saying that, in this situation?”

Instead of answering, I lightly bit Jin Yoorim’s cheek and turned my back to him.

“Even I’d be scared to do this on my own… Aren’t you going to help me?”

“……”

“You have to loosen up if we’re going to do anything, don’t you think?”

“…Hyung, you’re seriously, seriously too much.”

“—Are you really the same person who asked me to hold you as a birthday present?”

“…Haha. Yeah, I guess that’s true. The one being the most unfair here is me.”

Jin Yoorim let out a breath like a sigh, then climbed on top of me. As if to get revenge for the earlier bite, he nipped my shoulder gently, then licked the same spot over and over again.

“…What are you— ugh…!”

“—Truthfully, I want to do it on your neck, but I’m holding back. So be nice to me, okay…?”

…Saying that while he’s got his fingers up my ass doesn’t really feel like the time to play innocent.

I was the one who tempted him first, but now that it’s actually happening, I was overwhelmed with discomfort. I thought I was used to pain, but this wasn’t exactly pain—it felt more like someone had a grip on a vital point.

A foreign, unfamiliar sensation I’d never experienced before, like the end of a noose around my neck was now in someone else’s hands—chilling, and utterly unsettling.

Barely managing to lift my slipping body, I reached for the nightstand drawer, grabbed whatever I could find, and threw it behind me.

“…Unless you’re trying to kill me, could you at least do something?”

“Ah…”

It was tube-shaped, so I figured it had to be some kind of cream, but the moment Jin Yoorim opened the cap, a familiar scent hit me hard.

It was the hand cream I used to really like… Not that it mattered now, because I clearly wouldn’t be able to use it again. But that thought was short-lived.

Even now, Jin Yoorim hadn’t taken his fingers out—he added another one.

And between those stiff fingers, I could feel something cold sliding in.

I clenched my teeth and focused on breathing slowly, but the sensation was so awful it sent chills through my entire body—closer to terror than pain.

“Hngh…”

“……”

And in that silence, the slick, wet sound of something moving through a tight space filled the room.

Gripped by a fear that felt like something was eating away at my insides, I reached back blindly with my head still buried in the pillow. Jin Yoorim brought his face close to mine.

I didn’t even think about whether I might scratch his face—I just grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

I was probably a pathetic mess, completely consumed by fear—but Jin Yoorim simply accepted it, giving himself to me without hesitation.

Even as I kissed him again and again—like I was trying to steal every last breath from his lungs—Jin Yoorim’s hand didn’t stop moving.

And then, just as I was fully swept up in the terror of the unknown, forced to lie prone beneath him, I turned my body forward again, grasped Jin Yoorim’s face in both hands, and kissed him.

That was the moment he entered me.

If his tongue hadn’t already filled my mouth, I might have gagged on the spot.

I dug my nails into the smooth fabric of the bed sheets—ones the members had given me as a birthday gift, saying I’d like the texture—doing everything I could not to thrash.

The warm droplets falling onto my face told me Jin Yoorim was still crying, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop.

At the same time, I didn’t want him to notice how scared I was.

So unless I was so short of breath I truly couldn’t take it anymore, I clung to his shoulders and begged for kisses.

Only in the moments when our lips met and our bodies were pressed tightly together could I forget—even slightly—the sensation of him splitting me open.

That cruelly drawn-out time finally passed, and when Jin Yoorim pulled out of me, he simply grabbed onto my shoulder and started crying again, silently.

“…At this rate, you’re gonna… ahem, pass out.”

“…I’m sorry… I’m sorry, hyung… Please, don’t throw me away…”

Following Jin Yoorim’s gaze, I looked down—and couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh.

Unlike him, who had finished twice inside me and even had to change the condom, my body was perfectly clean.

Of course it was. I hadn’t been aroused even once. The strange sensations I’d felt were closer to discomfort… or fear.

“Why would I ever throw you away?”

“…I’ll do anything. Please. I’m your dog, hyung. Please…”

“—Yoorim, then can you grant me one favor too?”

I cupped Jin Yoorim’s tear-streaked face in both hands and whispered softly.

“Sleep with Eden.”

“…What?”

“Go sleep with Eden.”

“…Hyung?”

“Yeah? You’ll do it, right?”

You said you’re my dog, didn’t you.

Only then did Jin Yoorim’s crying finally stop. Despite crying for hours, not a single part of his face was swollen—only the skin under his eyes had turned faintly red, making him look heartbreakingly beautiful.

With a face like that, even Eden—who used to fight him like they’d kill each other—might give in if he asked to spend the night together.

That thought barely formed when Jin Yoorim, still with that tear-streaked face, smiled with his eyes curved.

“Ah. Right. You were this kind of person.”

—And then he wrapped his hands around my neck.

“…Hyung, let’s start over. Next time, I’ll do better. It was my first time—”

…It wasn’t a knife?

The moment I woke up, I instinctively touched my neck and checked the phone under my pillow.

December 2, 2027.

So it wasn’t a restart—just a dream after all. I let out a small sigh and rubbed my face with dry hands.

I hadn’t been in great shape around that time, but the timing had been awful. Strangling instead of stabbing—yeah, that could’ve easily happened.

…I’ll put off seducing Jin Yoorim and sending him to sleep with Eden for now.

Still, just because a small plan fell through doesn’t mean this round is over. I should do what I can. I staggered out of bed and stretched. It wasn’t the dream keeping me tired—it was the schedule lately.

Every idol’s prime season for recruiting new fans had begun.

It was December—the year-end award show season.

Not that D.I.Y. was aiming to win any awards. We’d debuted in that awkward month of October, so we weren’t even eligible for Rookie of the Year, and we were too small to compete for a main award.

So what we were really targeting were those three-hour “music festivals” disguised as award shows—Music Grand Battle, Music Festival, Music Great Festival.

Calling them music shows felt wrong; they were massive events, with networks more focused on ticket sales than trophies.

Rumors spread again this year that some shows would be held overseas, leading to boycott posts flooding social media—but fortunately, every one of them decided to stay domestic.

I heard that Music Grand Battle really wanted to be held in Taiwan this year, but the important thing was that D.I.Y. was listed among the performing artists for all the year-end events, which happened about a week apart.

We might not have the stature to win a major award—but still, we’re under END, one of the Big Four.

…Honestly, I couldn’t be more grateful that Music Grand Battle was being held in Korea.

Because of that, or rather because of me, I was twice as busy as usual. Now that I was back, there was no way I’d let anyone else handle D.I.Y.’s stage.

The first show, Music Festival, was on the third Friday of December. We had a six-minute solo stage and a special stage featuring Eden, our rapper. Well… “solo stage” included a cover segment, but still.

Next was Music Grand Battle on Christmas, with a four-minute-thirty-second solo stage and a special stage featuring Jin Yoorim, our vocalist.

And finally, Music Great Festival on December 31—seven minutes and thirty seconds of solo stage time.

I also heard that our manager, who looked utterly miserable about it, had been exiled to Imjingak for a remote broadcast—the first there in twelve years.

Anyway, the special stages were the network’s problem. What I had to handle were: one cover song, one D.I.Y. track reworked to flow into the cover, one verse of a year-end rearrangement, one full version following that, and two full D.I.Y. songs in year-end arrangements.