MIM 86

Shin-woo glanced down at the lingering hand and carefully observed Ma Jae-seung. It was puzzling how intently he was examining scars he’d seen many times before. When Ma Jae-seung suddenly lifted his shirt, Shin-woo had expected sex, but somehow the touch seemed to carry a different meaning. Why did he ask if Shin-woo was okay and then suddenly examine the burn marks? Had his memories perhaps returned?

While wondering vaguely, he felt the hardening member against his thigh growing firmer. It was no wonder his temperature was high—just from this brief contact, beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and trickling down his temples. Pinned under the feverish body, Shin-woo deliberately took slow breaths. Whenever he faced Ma Jae-seung suffering from rut, his first thought used to be about how to cool the fever, but at some point, the heat between his legs had started rising before any sense of duty.

Shit. Shin-woo swallowed a curse and waited quietly with his palms flat against the sheets. He didn’t want to enjoy himself while the other was suffering, unable to control his urges. While he tried to direct his attention elsewhere, the sweat-soaked hand slowly pulled away. When that burning body heat moved away, the scarred area felt cold.

“How did this happen?”

While Shin-woo was staring at the bead of sweat on his round nose tip, Ma Jae-seung suddenly asked. He meant the burn marks covering his back. Shin-woo shrugged his shoulders and gave the most obvious answer he could come up with.

“Got burned.”

“The day your father died?”

“Yeah.”

Shin-woo agreed after a beat. He knew there was no point in hesitating. Though he thought it better to bury these sorts of unpleasant old stories, Ma Jae-seung was persistent. As if he had left behind things in the past that he absolutely needed to remember.

Ma Jae-seung’s persistent gaze lingered on Shin-woo for a long while. After staring blankly, he slowly sat up. He must have sweated so much—his silver hair sparkled with every movement. His smooth skin glistened with sweat too. Even his long eyelashes and eyes were damp, making him look like a rain-soaked puppy. Perhaps not wanting to show that mess of a face, Ma Jae-seung sat half-turned away from Shin-woo.

The suppressants that had killed so many test subjects couldn’t possibly be harmless. Shin-woo furrowed his brow and got up to pull Ma Jae-seung’s shoulder. Though he tried to make him lie back down, Ma Jae-seung stubbornly remained seated. He pulled the blanket to wipe his wet face, then picked up the wet towel from the nightstand and fidgeted with it. Just as Shin-woo was starting to worry, Ma Jae-seung spoke.

“I take back saying it was disgusting.”

“What?”

Though he questioned the sudden statement, Shin-woo immediately understood what Ma Jae-seung meant. Disgusting. That word Ma Jae-seung had spat out seemed to have remained intact deep in his heart. When Shin-woo looked at him with raised eyebrows, Ma Jae-seung avoided his gaze and looked down at the blanket.

“Oh? Thanks.”

Shin-woo answered playfully with a small laugh. There was nothing else to say. Even to him, they were horrible scars. He had lived thinking it fortunate they were on his back where he wouldn’t see them unless he tried. If anything, Ma Jae-seung had probably seen them more often, forced to look at them whenever trying to suppress his excitement—perhaps his reaction had been quite human.

Ma Jae-seung set aside the wet towel he’d been fidgeting with and sighed. As he let out a large, irritated breath, his entire large frame shuddered and heat poured off him. He twisted his lips and let out a low groan of pain.

“I was angry. I couldn’t remember anything and was dying from the rut, while you kept talking about money and trying to use me.”

Regret could be read in his sullen tone. Why is he suddenly like this? Shin-woo observed Ma Jae-seung’s profile through narrowed eyes.

“Do you remember everything now?”

“No.”

Ma Jae-seung shook his head at the hopeful question. Their glances met briefly. This time, Ma Jae-seung didn’t avoid his gaze.

His fever-bright eyes rippled deeply. He looked straight at Shin-woo as he spoke.

“I just decided to trust you.”

Shin-woo blinked blankly and parted his lips. The one suddenly bringing up trust wore an even calmer expression. He might have even looked relieved.

“You want me to graduate from university safely and inherit the company, and I want to take the chairman’s seat. Whatever your reasons, that’s why you went through all that trouble.”

“We want the same thing,” Ma Jae-seung leaned in and whispered quietly, as if plotting something.

“I don’t care if what you want is money. Once I inherit the company, I can give you as much money as you want.”

Though his focus was blurred with heat and desire, his gaze remained resolute. After struggling with uncertainty and confusion due to his fractured memories, he seemed to have finally found his center. While it was understandable that he’d set aside his doubts after Shin-woo had even disposed of the corpse for him, there was something oddly familiar about his relieved smile.

Shin-woo could see his own reflection in those eyes that had grown shadowed from countless betrayals of trust—from his mother and father, from those he thought would be friends, from Kim Ye-wook.

Just as trampled mud hardens, a heart desperately craving affection can turn to stone, incapable of blooming even a single flower, when repeatedly crushed. Shin-woo faced Ma Jae-seung, who wore the same expression as himself, as if looking in a mirror.

One can escape anxiety. Be free, however imperfectly.

If one completely gives up on being loved.

The one who had kept offering his heart again and again, never losing hope despite being repeatedly trampled, had finally broken down. As soon as Shin-woo realized this, turmoil rose within him.

He wanted to crack Ma Jae-seung’s hardened expression. Wanted to throw a stone hard into that calm lake. He wanted Ma Jae-seung to burn with anger, smile like sunshine, and cry until his eyes swelled. An indescribable emotion rose up, making his chest swell.

“You’re still such a naive young master, now as before.”

At this deliberate taunt, Ma Jae-seung sharply furrowed his brows. That frown looked much cuter and better. Shin-woo narrowed his eyes, tilting his head deliberately askew.

“You decided to trust me? What if I change my mind?”

“…Are you being difficult even when I say I trust you?”

“I might get sick of all this and just take everything and run.”

Ma Jae-seung’s face grew redder as he flared up in anger. His eyebrows twitched momentarily, seemingly hurt by the words “sick of this.” His cheeks trembled as he pulled up the blanket to hide his agitation. Cold sweat trickled down, dripping onto the sheets.

“At least until I inherit the company, that seems unlikely. Why would you, after going through the trouble of fixing the will?”

Even in this state, Ma Jae-seung responded logically, word by word. Once his calm facade was stripped away, the familiar person beneath emerged. Seeing those familiar expressions—hurt, suppressing anger—melted Shin-woo’s heart. As he leaned forward and pulled back the blanket, he saw how swollen the lower half had become. The fresh underwear was soaked dark, rendered useless.

“Fuck, don’t touch me.”

Ma Jae-seung slapped Shin-woo’s hand away with a sharp sound and turned sharply toward the edge of the bed. Jaw clenched tight, he grabbed the robe Butler Hwang had brought brand-new. He hurriedly slipped his arms in, tied the waist string, and stood up forcefully. Though he stumbled for a moment, he managed to take a couple steps and brace himself against the wall.

Shin-woo got up easily from the bed and caught up to Ma Jae-seung at the wall in one move. This time, he grabbed his shoulder instead of his wrist to prevent him from shaking free.

“Get out, please.”

Please. The final word was mixed with heavy breathing. A warning that soon his rationality would snap and that “sickening act” would begin again. Various emotions began to stain his face as the resignation cleared away. It looked much better than that seemingly relieved expression of having given up everything. Shin-woo grabbed and pulled at Ma Jae-seung’s loosely worn robe.

“You—”

Shin-woo’s murmured words cut off. With his forehead pressed against Ma Jae-seung’s fevered one, he swallowed the rest of the words.

You’re destined to receive more love than you deserve.

When he grabbed the stubbornly resistant Ma Jae-seung’s collar and pushed him against the wall with a bang, his red lips parted. If he could return hope that he could be loved, if he could completely clear away that light of resignation, Shin-woo was willing to show his own shameless feelings. It didn’t matter if he was immediately rejected, if he would eventually be abandoned and trampled.

Shinwoo roughly kissed those panting lips.

As their soft skin touched, breaths and scents mingled, creating a tingling sensation that ran up his spine, starting from his toes. His whole body seemed to itch, and he quickly became breathless. His stream of consciousness broke off, and his mind went blank. When their tongues met, his stomach tightened, and he felt a shiver. The space between his legs grew hot, and his vision blurred. Shin-woo held Ma Jae-seung’s cheeks with both hands and clumsily licked inside his mouth.

“Ugh.”

Their teeth clashed when the angle of their heads didn’t align properly. When he pulled back reflexively from the painful collision, their lips separated slightly. In the widened field of vision, he could see Ma Jae-seung looking down at him, flushed red to his forehead. Shin-woo hesitated momentarily, unsure whether Ma Jae-seung was out of his mind from the rut or just surprised.

Ma Jae-seung’s bare foot crossed between Shin-woo’s shoes. Just as he realized the distance had closed again, a shadow fell over his face. The moment he drew breath, Ma Jae-seung grabbed the back of his head with his large hand. As Shin-woo lifted his eyelids, unable to move, his trembling breath settled heavily on his lips.