HMT Chapter 3 (Part 3)

While they ate, hunger had numbed other thoughts. But now that they were somewhere safe, the memories of everything that had happened today kept rising, darkening their expressions. Dohoon, the only one who looked somewhat collected, spoke for everyone. Then he noticed the clothes in Yoon’s hands.

“You’re going to wash? Seriously impressive. The rest of us can’t even move. We’ve just been lying here.”

None of them had clothes to change into, which made it worse. Even Kim Min and Han Min, who did have clothes, had lost them to the girls and were in the same situation as Dohoon and Minsu.

“You can ignore the dirt, but you should at least clean off the bloodstains. So Jiwoo and I will wash first. When we’re done, you guys can go in. Okay?”

“Both of you together?”

“Yeah.”

Dohoon scratched the side of his head as if he couldn’t be bothered arguing anymore.

“Fine. Yeah, go ahead. We’ll go after.”

Yoon’s special treatment toward Jiwoo irritated Dohoon, but he waved a hand tiredly. His shoulder still throbbed from when the bus had braked suddenly, making him even more irritable.

Yoon finished speaking and headed toward the bathroom, then stopped when he noticed Jiwoo still standing inside the room. He knew Jiwoo liked him, but that wasn’t important. What mattered was checking whether Jiwoo had any suspicious wounds.

He couldn’t say that outright, so convincing Jiwoo wasn’t an option. Yoon wanted to wash up and collapse onto the warm floor as soon as possible.

“Hey, they said it’s fine.”

He grabbed Jiwoo’s arm, his face somehow even redder than before, and pulled him out of the room. Half dazed, Jiwoo let himself be led all the way into the bathroom.

Yoon locked the door from the inside and walked to the shower booth. The small bathroom only had the essentials: a sink in the middle, with the toilet and shower booth on either side. There wasn’t even space for a bathtub.

When he turned the faucet to hot, cold water burst out first. Leaving it running, Yoon walked back toward the door. Jiwoo startled and backed up toward the sink like a child caught in a game of freeze tag.

Yoon glanced at him briefly, then shrugged off his varsity jacket and tossed it aside. He pulled off his beige knit sweater, hopelessly stained, and dropped it on top. He peeled off the white T-shirt underneath without hesitation, revealing a torso fit enough to rival a professional athlete.

Steam began to rise as the water hit the floor. Fingers on his belt buckle, Yoon watched Jiwoo, who kept his head bowed. The nape of his neck was flushed bright pink beneath his black hair.

“They asked us to wash quickly since we’re going first.”

Yoon lied without blinking. He knew Jiwoo wouldn’t move unless nudged. When he finished stripping, throwing his pants and underwear over the pile, he stepped under the showerhead.

The water, icy just moments before, warmed to a pleasant temperature. He pushed his wet hair back from his forehead, feeling tension finally drain from his body. Clean water felt like a blessing. The muscles in his body relaxed.

A rustling sound made him turn his head. Jiwoo was hesitantly undressing. Unlike Yoon, who stripped and tossed things wherever, they folded each item neatly like a caterpillar shedding its skin.

Even though the clothes would just be washed anyway, Jiwoo carefully folded them with perfect edges. Yoon’s lips curled slightly.

‘He really does have a strange personality.’

It made him curious what Jiwoo’s room looked like. Probably untouched for an entire month, everything perfectly in place. The fridge stocked with cans lined up by label.

Unlike Yoon, completely naked, Jiwoo couldn’t bring himself to remove his underwear. Yoon’s eyes narrowed, not in annoyance but something closer to interest. Seeing Jiwoo in plain white cotton underwear he himself would never wear made his mouth go dry.

Running his tongue along the inside of his lips, Yoon squeezed a generous amount of shampoo into his palm. Even as he lathered his hair, his gaze traveled leisurely over Jiwoo’s body.

‘His frame is slimmer than I thought.’

Not in a feminine way, just a clean, neat line to his torso. The dip of his navel and the long stretch of his legs would suit a model. His face always seemed small, though the thick glasses covering half of it didn’t help. His bangs came down past his eyebrows, leaving only his nose bridge and reddish lips exposed.

Whenever Yoon looked at him, he found himself staring at those lips and the dark eyes behind the lenses.

Jiwoo’s skin was pale like untouched snow, though here and there faint blotches of discoloration broke the uniform tone. Yoon’s sharp gaze checked every inch of him. As he’d hoped, there were no bites or scratches.

Still, even at a glance, Jiwoo had bruises that looked like they would deepen into more vivid colors if only a little more time passed. His calves were particularly blue, as if marked by someone’s hand. Yoon’s gaze eventually landed on Jiwoo’s chest, faintly pink like a petal brushed with color.

‘He looks like he’d taste sweet if I bit him.’

Yoon let out a long sigh at himself for feeling even momentarily interested in another man’s body. Jiwoo flinched hard, shoulders snapping up like a startled turtle. Today must have been too much stress for him.

Yoon lowered his gaze and saw that he’d hardened even more since earlier. He tipped his head back.

His Adam’s apple bobbed sharply. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten excited over a guy with the same thing hanging between his legs. Even if Jiwoo’s body caught the eye, his chest was flat and down below hung the same equipment.

Yoon closed his eyes and let the water pour over him. Still, the image of Jiwoo he had just seen clung to his mind stubbornly. He sighed a second time, and Jiwoo jumped at the sound, hurriedly turning the faucet at the sink.

“II’ll wash over here.”

He touched the water without thinking, only to yank his hand back at the bone-deep chill. Realizing the faucet was turned toward the blue mark, he quickly twisted it toward the red one.

Jiwoo had been fighting not to look at Yoon since the moment Yoon began undressing.

Sometimes he had imagined it. Jiwoo was a man too, and whenever he had erotic dreams, Yoon was always the one in them. Back in high school, Yoon would spend entire summer afternoons playing soccer or running around the basketball court with friends.

During those times, the thin white T-shirt he wore instead of a gym uniform would stick to his sweaty body, showing every curve of muscle. Jiwoo used to blush quietly while standing beside girls who screamed and giggled over him.

Yoon wasn’t just tall, his shoulders were broad enough to make his small face seem even smaller, and both his chest and arm muscles were leagues above the boys their age.

Once, the girls joked that Yoon’s body was better than a pro volleyball player’s, and Jiwoo had agreed silently.

But now, seeing him up close, even just in passing, Yoon looked better built than most athletes Jiwoo had ever seen. And when Jiwoo caught sight of what hung between Yoon’s legs, his eyelids trembled, unsure he’d really seen correctly.

Despite hovering around Yoon for years, Jiwoo had never gone to the bathroom with him even once. He had avoided the situation deliberately.

How had it come to this, both he and Yoon half-naked in the same space? No matter how he tried to think, his mind felt bleached blank.

The sound of water and Yoon’s movements in the shower made it impossible to stay focused. Jiwoo cupped warm water in his hands and splashed his face loudly. He was trying to snap himself out of it, but the sensation of being watched made his heart race wildly.

“How are you planning to wash over there? The shampoo and body wash are all over here.”

Seeing Jiwoo soaked to the chest from just washing his face, Yoon squeezed body wash into his palm. There was no shower puff here; he simply rubbed his hands together to make foam before washing himself.

His gaze was indifferent as he looked down at his own enlarged length, yet every glance he stole toward Jiwoo carried an odd heat. His eyes kept returning to the one place on Jiwoo’s thin body that held any softness.

‘You’re insane, Yoon.’

Yoon laughed under his breath and wiped a hand down his face. When he moved, the last of the suds around his ankles washed away. He turned around without hesitation. The reason he brought Jiwoo into the bathroom was simple: to check if Jiwoo had any bites or scratches.

He’d accomplished that. Now, like a predator that had satisfied its curiosity, he stepped aside for the trembling rabbit in front of him.

“Go ahead and wash comfortably. I’m done.”

Jiwoo finally lifted his head from the sink. He’d been so out of it he had washed his face with his glasses still on. Water dripped from the lenses like rain. Yoon picked up a towel.

“Or… do you want me to help wash you? You’ve been spaced out this whole time. I mean, after everything that happened today, it makes sense for your body to freeze up. And you were crying while eating earlier, so…”

Yoon softened his expression into one of gentle worry. Jiwoo flailed his head side to side so violently that droplets scattered everywhere from his hair and glasses.

“Can you wash by yourself?”

“O-of course!”

Jiwoo’s voice cracked sharply. Yoon smirked and slipped into the training clothes he’d brought. He hadn’t brought underwear, so the thick outline beneath the pants was faintly visible.

“Then wash up and come out. I’ll go tell the others it might take a while.”

“…Thank you.”

Even after Yoon left with the clothes he’d taken off, Jiwoo stood in place for a long time, struggling to catch his breath as his chest rose and fell uncontrollably.